The Day I Became A Kelvington A.K.A. Elby's Big Boy, root beer and 6 months and counting.....

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. I was officially, legally made a member of the Kelvington family on February 14th, 1968. My parents brought me home that day and that was that. When I got older, every Valentine's Day my family and I would go to the Elby's Big Boy restaurant out on 12th Street in my hometown of Erie, Pa and I would have the same thing; spaghetti and garlic bread followed by a slice of strawberry pie, all washed down by copious amounts of root beer served in one of those ubiquitous red chain-restaurant beverage cups. Every year the same ritual from probably age 7 until age 15, I had that meal at that restaurant. A fond memory that on today's date, February 14th, 2015, made me go to the store and buy a root beer to drink. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. I have met my birth-mother and my half-sister and brother. I have been in contact with the family of the gentleman who was my father. He passed away before I had the chance to meet him. However, I know these truths. He is African-American. He loved rock-and-roll. He was athletic. He and his friend Henry, who was the lead singer in a popular Dunkirk-area band called "Malcolm and the Rising Tides" left his home one day to hitchhike to a concert. When they returned home two days later they told all their friends about having been at Woodstock. He moved to Oakland, Ca. where he worked with the homeless population. He battled with substance abuse. He has a nephew named William who is my twin. I wish I could have met him before he passed away, I have so many questions I'd have loved to ask him about his life. One day soon I'm going to visit Dunkirk, NY and meet his extended family. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. My son is me in more ways than one. They say that males who are alcoholic and come from alcoholic genetics have children with a 1 in 2 chance of becoming alcoholics. This has been proven by YEARS of longitudinal studies. Statistics don't lie. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. here's one for you though. I have two sisters. They were adopted as well, but they're really SISTERS! This is what happened. My parents had been talking about adopting a child. They had a friend who was a priest who did missionary work. He had gone to a town in Honduras called Tegucigalpa on a mission, and out of the blue he called my parents and asked if they were ready to adopt. He had two young girls who needed to leave the country immediately. My parents said yes with no hesitation. The two girls had a father who was a politician who was trying to effect change in a VERY corrupt part of his government. When Father Gracien was visiting Tegucigalpa he had met their father. He called my parents after finding out that while the family was eating dinner the night before, a group of men came into the family home and shot the father, his wife and one son. My sisters and their other brother were unharmed. The brother was taken by an uncle. 72 hours later, two girls aged 10 and 8, and who spoke ZERO english, were sitting in a living room in a suburb of Pittsburgh, Pa. called Bethel Park, at my grandmother and grandfather's house. 55 Ruthfred Drive to be exact. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

And, here's the later. I share all this because I am asking myself what my limits are. How far am I capable of going in order to achieve a daily modicum of sobriety, gratitude and joy for the smallest blessings? How far am I capable of going in finding out every single thing I can about who I am and where my genes came from? How far am I capable of going to live the ABSOLUTE healthiest lifestyle I can? To become above and beyond in that regard, which requires the utmost in discipline. How far am I capable of going in reviving my relationships with my sisters? They're as close as they can be, but I want to re-add myself to the equation. How far am I capable of going in cementing ideals and examples within my son's mindset? And ESPECIALLY as a sober adult? How far am I capable of going in becoming a musician again? These are all questions that I am going to ponder for the next six months.

Why the next six months? Today, on the yearly anniversary of my legally becoming a Kelvington, I found out that my mother's tumors have all grown, and there's many more new ones. She cannot have any more chemotherapy. The pills they could give her have horrifying and painful side-effects. She is 91 pounds and growing weaker every day. The doctors looked her straight in the face and told her she will not last longer than six months. I am pissed off. I am terrified. I am sad beyond belief. I am grateful I am sober. I am inspired.

I ask you, what can YOU commit to for six months? You read what I am committing to, tell me what YOU'RE willing to give for six months. Do it privately. If you wish to share what that may be with me you can email me @ slowdownyourday@yahoo.com.

Six months. I will live every day as though I am never going to die.............

This Day Was Dog Years. A.K.A. "The Feline Foreign Obstruction Saga......

 Many of you who read this may have known my two original kitties, Vertigo and HoneyCat!, and you know they were true characters. Suffice to say I miss them very much. Vertigo was the first pet I ever had, bought the day after the most dangerous cat in the world, Bowie, whom I was house-sitting, was hit by a car. (He was allowed outside by his owner, so don't get uppity...) Vertigo was named as such because as a VERY young kitten she could climb WAY high, but would not get down on her own. Next was my roommate Travis saying "Dude, your kitten has vertigo" and presto (!) a name was given.. Honeycat! was something else. Went to pick a friend for Vertigo and had the kitten chosen when I heard a gigantic crash and splash, followed immediately by a tug on my shoulder. There, with one teensy claw hooked in my sweater, was a miserable looking, soaked to the skin, caterwauling ball of calico anger that was NOT going to let me take any other kitten home but her. So I did. And especially after she ran through her water bowl to get to me. The exclamation point has always worked really well, because she NEVER went anywhere without raising a racket. Needless to say, when they each went up the path I was devastated..

Fast forward to now. On Monday night Tinley started throwing up her food. I've seen THIS one before plenty of times, so no real concern. I mean, it happens, right? But she did it again on Tuesday, and Wednesday night as well. Today I noticed she was extremely lethargic, and at one point I walked into the bedroom and literally thought she was dead. Next stop VCA to get her looked at. The doctor and I start to discuss things, and I see $$$$ piling up in front of me. But the doc was nice. She broke down the possibilities for me, what we might need to do, and what was the best first option. That option was x-rays, although she said, "Usually they're pretty inconclusive, with the exception of something being in the cat that's not supposed to be there." Off the cat goes, and 10 minutes later I'm looking at some kind of something inside the cat that for SURE should not have been there. Here's what happened next, and I'm going to give it to you in a way that I hope will express how it went for me emotionally and physically. READY?

Got really angry at the cat for five minutes, realized it's just the type of thing a cat would do, figured out the best financial and physiological options for human/cat health and peace, did a verbal okay and handed off a deposit for immediate administration of I.V. fluids followed by surgery for removal of "a foreign obstruction", ran out the door and went to pick up Willzzzo from after-school, a 15 minute across town count-down, Willzzzo wanting to play for a while, Daddy having to explain about Tinley,  FINALLY got home with Willzzzo and settled in, got a call 20 minutes later to come back and pick up Tinley to go to 24-hour post-op facility for monitoring for any possible complications, pick her up with Willzzzo and find out it was an earplug(!) and go to OTHER facility, fill out all the paperwork there, get her settled in, say goodnight, Willzzzo starving so against my better wishes McCrapola it is, home, fed, hot fudge sundae, late-night Xtra reading time and to sleep for him. Me having a pity party, even though I know I'm just doing what should be expected of me.

BUT THEN, right before I started to write this, I noticed I had a text from my Mom. Who had gotten scan results on the tumors that are shrinking her body down. Turns out that the new chemo cocktail is shrinking the TUMORS, not her. Turns out the doctors told her they were "pleasantly surprised with these results". Turns out my Mom is actually feeling a bit more upbeat, and I quote, "Although I know I'll never be "cured", it's nice to know the tumors are shrinking and I can feel better". That quote explains why her nickname in certain circles is "The Eternal Pessimist", always needing a Plan B, even when there isn't one. Turns out she's feeling MUCH BETTER physically. I am overwhelmed with gratitude as I write this, because on the back-end of a fucked-up day that has been a part of a fucked-up week that has been part of a fucked-up last several YEARS, the only thing that matters to me right now is that my Mom feels better.
And THAT, my friends, is good enough....
I love you all,
xo-pk

Music, my Mother, and watching those two Italians.......

The other night I went to see Il Sogno Del Marinaio, the new band/project that involves Mike Watt and two wonderful gentlemen from Italy by the name of Andrea Belfi (Drums) and Stefano Pilia (Guitar). You can go to www.hootpage.com to get the rest of the story on the backdrop, but here's my say. Leading up to this show, I have been stagnant. I have been complacent.  I have been uninspired. There's MANY things that can account for all of these emotions and adjectives, and I'll get to them in a moment. I was also very excited to finally meet Hiyori H.M., she's REALLY good people, and I ran around a bunch before the gig getting a welcome basket together for the band. Some  sweets, some booze, a couple of funny "mind puzzle" things as time-wasters, and I loaded up my Kindle for them as well, which I'll hopefully pick up in Pedro this Spring.
I made it in to say hello to Hiyori and got myself set up right as they came on. I had purposely not listened to any of the music, as there are times when you want to get surprised by a first time, and this was no exception. As they played their way through their set, Watt stayed back by the drums, and I had my whole focus on Andrea and Stefano. I watched how they kept their eyes locked on each other as they played, as if their lives depended on it, just to make sure those notes landed right. In the first third of the set, I had one of those rare "first-timer musical moments" that I'm betting a LOT of my peers know about and have had themselves. You're in the middle of a show, and you take a mental (and perhaps physical) step back and go "Holy SHIT, I am experiencing something amazing and wonderful, and I choose to let myself be taken by this at all costs." I've had it happen before, with Slovenly, when they opened for fIREHOSE in Columbus, Ohio, and with bands from my hometown like The Generic Beat, The X-Whites, Tripod Jimmie and The Wiggling Judys.
As I watched and listened, I got to thinking about some things, kind of heavy-duty stuff, and here's some of that to tell....
 I was thinking about my friend John, one of my two best friends since 15 years old. He would be hosting the band in a couple of days in Columbus after I reached out on their behalf. He was an incredible hardcore drummer who has now become a GENIUS of a bass player. We hadn't talked much for a LONG spell, supposedly over some perceived bad blood, but I realized I would kill ANYONE who ever harmed him, if for nothing more than the fact that the night I met him and the OTHER member of the Unholy Trinity, one Dave Pruyn, some crazy things happened. First words I said to those two? "Man, this band SUCKS!" (Friction, a local metal cover band) Second thing was a few slugs of Jack Daniels by my car, and at 16 with a brand-new license, I should have had neither of those things, but I did. Third thing was a room full of gear I had, cause I was trying to start my first band, but no luck. I invited them over the very next day, and in less than 24 hours, we had written our first song and were officially a band! I realized that whatever petty bullshit went down had to have not been worth fucking off on the last 10+ years of friendship, and resolved to cement it again by actions.

Watching the Italians play reminded me of that.

I was thinking about my son, and how I would want him to know me when he grows into adulthood. I'm not going to go into it, but a therapist once asked me to ask my Pop a question, "What kind of husband, father, man did you raise me to be?" He couldn't give me an answer, which was a REAL disappointment. (We've since cleared this up. I think...) I realized that I wanted Will to know most about the traits of respect, love, trust, and MOST importantly the ability to live with complete and utter regard for artistic freedom in all of its guises, be it art, music, writing, photography, WHATEVER! To know that he will always be pushed to go out and have at it, LIVE and LOVE and to pursue anything he wishes, as long as he does not hurt himself or others makes me happy.

Watching the Italians play reminded me of that.

Finally, I was thinking about my Mom. She's got Stage 4 cancer, and she's watching the calendar mighty close these days. She's getting ready to go see her Doc and get scans to see if all the chemo they've pumped into her will have prolonged her stay on the plane or not. If yes, then a possible future of pain, exhaustion and no taste, but living, which I will never begrudge her. If no, then she gets to decide on surgery/more chemo/experimental things, etc. My Mom and I have disagreed on SO MUCH during my lifetime, and once, recently, when I needed her the most, she didn't side with me, choosing to agree with someone who wasn't family. I was devastated. BUT, as I listened to "Auslander", which just had an AMAZING video by Hiyori HM debuted, I realized how selfish I was being, the circumstances of her bloodline coming to America, and even though I was adopted, how I was ALWAYS her own. The allegory to the song and to the two men I was watching was amazing. Adopted by the fans of the U.S., having musical disagreements and fighting through them in real time on stage, and most importantly the smiles when it went down correctly. I thought about my Mom not being on this plane in the middle of this song and burst into tears. Hard to hide in the middle of a music venue, but thank God for stage lighting.

Watching the Italians play reminded me of my Mom, and all the things I am grateful to her for.

So here I am. Complacent, unaware of my own position, unable to sleep, eat right, all of it. Thinking about Il Sogno Del Marinaio's performance and the emotions said performance brought out in me finally brought me HERE.

1-Running the Chicago Marathon on 10/12/14, shooting for 5:30. I literally have not trained ONE MILE for it due to apathy and stupidity and wondering what a few select people were thinking about me. Muscle memory, like that of a musician, will take me through safely. And those people, FUCK THEM! And, any pain involved in this marathon will be immediately numbed by the reminder that there's a nice old lady in Erie, Pa. who TRULY knows what pain feels like, and I will then continue to put one foot right in front of the other.
2-Running the Columbus Marathon on 10/19/14, shooting for 5:00. I literally have not trained ONE MILE for this. Just see above. I can't wait to see John, and I can't wait to see my amazing, powerful ultra marathon running, Clif Bar Pace team coaching sister Star. We didn't even know we had each other until 2001, but that's a story for another time. Any pain involved in this marathon will be to burn off all the crapola with John and forge a tighter bond with my sister. I will continue to put one foot in front of the other.
3-I haven't worked in a LONG time. I got fired from my gig, (long story) and have wallowed in depression and apathy. NO MORE. I want to start my own practice, and despite what others might have to say about that, that's EXACTLY what I'm going to do. I no longer will stand for not being supported in making this happen. Starting this process tomorrow by calling BCross/BShield.

All of this from one show, one gig, one experience. I love music, I love what it gives, and I love that it always reminds me of what and who I really am, not what I might necessarily be trying to make myself out to BE. It motivates in many ways, be it anger, fear, disgust, outrage, or simply the desire to stand up and go "HEY! I have something to say, and HERE it is! In the key of "A" for anger, motherfuckers!" I am happy to have had this experience, and happy to share it with you..

To Andrea, Steano and Watt? Graze Mille!
And to all of you? I Love You...
xo-pk

The Five Promises For Willzzzo

Promise : a statement telling someone that you will definitely do something or that something will definitely happen in the future

In my time I have made literally thousands of promises, and I would be willing to say that at least 90% of them were not kept. Am I unhappy about this? Maybe, but I have made amends for the repercussions that stemmed from not keeping a few of them, and so I'm all good with that. I got to thinking this evening about how all things in my life are shifting and moving, and how much differently my life could look within one year's time, perhaps even six months or three, all depending on how willing I am to listen and to do the hard work that precedes life-changing events. I also thought about how, in doing this work, that there would be commitments to be met to many people, and that I should not overstretch my boundaries, both physical and mental. With that said, I made a decision to not promise anything to anyone ever again. Sound selfish? It might, but let me give you the context and then ask yourself the question again. 

Three years ago my son went to the U.K. for Christmas with his mother. I chose not to go. Two years ago my son went to Seattle with his mother in the Fall and then to the Wisconsin Dells with his mother and Grandpa (from the U.K.) in the Summer. I chose not to go. I won't address my reasons for not going, but it is safe to say that in the end I was glad I didn't go each and every time. However, after my son returned from that trip to the Wisconsin Dells he said that he wanted me to make him a promise. When I asked what that promise might be, he said "Daddy, I want you to promise you won't EVER not come with me on a family trip ever again, no matter where it is, okay?" I made that promise, and after doing so began to try to reflect on exactly what that promise meant for my son. I am still reflecting, and the outcome changes every time I keep any promise to him. It's easy to forget how important promises are, especially when it's our own flesh and blood. 

Now I'll tell you this. I realized that in order to commit myself 100% to my son, I had to become serious about how,when or why I promised things to him, and so I came up with our bond, the Five Promises, and here they are.

1) I will always come on every family trip with you, no matter when, where or how long.
2) If you're hungry, you can have something to eat. I"ll give you my food if you're still hungry.
3) If you're thirsty, you can have something to drink. I'll give you my drink if you're still thirsty when you're done. (Within reason of course...)
4) If you're cold, I'll warm you up by giving you what I'm wearing.
5) If you're tired, truly tired, I will carry you, no matter how far I have to go.
I haven't broken one of these since the first time I shared them with Willzzzo, and I never will. I spent 3 weeks in the U.K. being one-upped by a father-in-law who said vicious things to me during the last week of the trip, causing me to decide to cut off all contact with him when possible. I've given Will my pizza, shared Cokes, Gatorade, H2O, and all sorts of liquids. I've been in freezing weather without a coat to cover his shivery little body. Last Friday I carried a sleepy little 7 1/2 year-old boy on my shoulder from California Avenue to Hoyne Avenue because he could hardly stay awake. I will never, ever in my life begrudge him any of this, and I will do it again and again, forever. I know, I know, some may say that this is "just what being a parent is about", but it's more than that for me personally. It's about longevity and commitment and pride in myself and of and for my son. It's about knowing I can stay the course in all the things I aspire to do, and especially in the midst of those things that are difficult. It's about my son being able to look me in the eye and believe that these five things I've promised will always come true, no matter what the circumstance. I'm good with all of that today. I am proud of telling him I would do these things and proud of never having failed him. I am making a small promise to myself as a test now, to see if I can keep one to me. I am going to go see my mother sometime in the next two weeks, and my Mom #2 as well....
xo-pk

"Here Comes The Sun........" (Or how I stayed up the whole night WITHOUT chemicals and figured out how to beat the jet-lag and reset my clock....)

One of the last times I stayed awake through the night in a chemical-free zone was when my son entered the sphere. He was SO quiet that I kept checking to make sure he was still breathing. I think I can count on my hands the # of times I've stayed awake without chemical assistance of some sort, be it "you know", L.S.D., mushrooms or even good-old garden variety caffeine. This one is different though. I'm doing it to reset my clock and re-adjust so I can enjoy the days. After all, that's why I'm here, right? I slept through most of the day yesterday, almost until 2:00, and it sucked. Highlight of the day though? Walking down High Street in Hadfield with my boy and him remarking he was hungry. THEN stepping into the chippy and getting an ENORMOUS cone of fresh chips and a bottle of Lucozade and throwing down with my son. He is my life, my reason to live, and it was fucking awesome! With no sleep under my belt today I will remember to be kind, courteous and above all PATIENT to everyone around me. I will run my miles, eat HEALTHY and then FINALLY get to an A.A. meeting tonight. After that meeting I will bathe my son, read with him, and get all involved into bed nice and early. And one more thing? No matter how much he complains about it not being fair, I'm a mean Daddy, etc... He will not consume even one DROP of soda today of any kind. Milk or water, more on that later. Talk to you all very soon....

xo-pk

The "Rules For Engagement" whilst across the pond........

After longer than I care to think, along with the usual frantic last-minute dash to the airport created by moi', it's bedtime in England, as late as ever due to the long nap after the flight. Jet-lag to say hello tomorrow for sure. Here's some things I've been pondering on the plane trip and since arriving here in Glossop (look it up...)
1 - I still haven't seen my Mom in person since she announced that she had cancer again. She's not doing as half as good as she thought she would, and if anything happens to her while I'm gone it will be devastating. The SECOND I get home, I'm going to clear the decks and get back to Erie, Pa to see her for a quick two days or so.
2 - There are travels that will be happening whilst in the U.K., and I must remember to be gracious and open to (just about) anything. Just because my Mom is ill, doesn't mean I can't or won't be grateful to have this opportunity to be here, and I plan to make the most of it.
3 - I have been for shit about training for the Columbus Marathon. I'm stopping that in the morning. I'm going out onto the close, looking up at a hill and going exactly right there and back, all depending on how far I have to run that day. That said, I plan to not gorge myself on vacation and actually come back lighter than I was when I left.
4 - Being here is a good opportunity to actually take the time to wrap up some loose ends, get some plans fully realized and ready to be committed to, and be mindful and in the present.
5 - It's kind of funny that you can't just go get something to eat when yr hungry and it's late here in Glossop. Every.single.thing.is.closed.but.Tesco's. And I've never driven here. (Yet!) Not TOO bad of a thing (see #3 above.), I just have to remember that this IS a village after all.
6 - I am going to forget about all the bad people in my life once and for all. Some snuck up on me, some were there waiting, some I created by my own actions. Extending a hand in kindness and seeing that you were a bridge for someone to get somewhere else in some way is blaaaahhhhhh.

That is all. I'l write more every day, but I have to get in bed. I think it's only three miles tomorrow, but it's three miles I HAVE to do! xo-pk

I will become an anchor, AKA becoming a "Super Man", NOT "Superman".........

Anchor:

: a heavy device that is attached to a boat or ship by a rope or chain and that is thrown into the water to hold the boat or ship in place (Via metaphor I am that device. I usually am used with four strings and two hands.)

: a person or thing that provides strength and support (See above metaphor.)

So, it's just this. I found out this week that the cancer my Mom was told is "in her system" (and possibly could be treated) is in fact much further along than that. It's not like she didn't want to tell anyone, but wanted to wait until she knew all the facts. Well, the facts turned out to be stage 4 cancer in her liver, pancreas, and hip bone for sure, with no hope of treatment for remission and survival. She was given two options; One, surgery to remove tumors from organs and bone PLUS removal of major portions of other organs to try and lessen how quickly the cancer spreads. I was told that this type of surgery is a minimum of 10 hours under anesthesia, she's guaranteed a minimum hospital stay of 10-14 days and THEN she gets to go home for an up-to THREE MONTH "recovery period". If that goes well then she might get to eat normally again. Then there was her number Two option, no surgery, no nothing, just going for it as best she could, with pain management, palliative care, etc. Option One could afford her a small chance of continuing some kind of longer-term existence, Option Two would offer a 100% guarantee of not being able to see in 2015. She has decided to have the surgery.

I've known for almost five months now that the cancer had come back, and I thank my Mom for keeping the family in the loop how she has, not giving anyone anything until she and her team of doctors were positive of what was happening and then what would be expected next. But, now that I know, I am saddened beyond belief. All my life my Mom has been called (by her own admission) the "Eternal Pessimist" and I have tried with all my might to run away from that as hard as I can. No Plan B's, escape routes or better options needed here for THIS fella thank you very much. I gladly take the long walk off the short pier, for better or for worse. 

You see, what's bothering me the MOST right now about this cancer bullshit is that I've realized that for the first time in my Mom's whole LIFE, she has no "Plan B", and THAT'S the thing that is causing her (and I'm sure will continue to cause) the most pain. There have been off-handed comments about "wishing that this wouldn't have to happen all over again", based on the fact that she is a two-time breast cancer survivor, and on occasion that pragmatic pessimist has shown up, but there's just NOTHING she can do about what the ending to this will be, which is her death. I had much of my adolescent life governed by her need for options, and now I will sit back and watch how she manages not having one. This is not a mean-spirited comment, nor is it an attitude of payback, etc. This is not only an amazing opportunity for me to watch how an adult deals with the realization that their life is about to come to a finite end, but an opportunity to clear the books with my Mom that has never had a place or time until now. The thing that has made me feel pain the most right now was when she said 'You know, it's hard, but I might like to feel a little bit sorry for myself right now", as if that wasn't even an OPTION! Another reason for gratitude about A.A. is that I've learned to talk about ALL of it, all the feelings. I might tell her that I learned from my first A.A. sponsor that it's okay to have feelings of pity, anger, etc, but you just can't STAY that way.

So, my Mom is going to find out here in the next week or so when the surgery is, and, in an ironic twist, I am making some plans right now that have to be made. I'm headed to England in three weeks and staying there for three weeks, so I'm going home to Erie, Pa. very soon, and just for a couple of days so I can see my Mom in person prior to her surgery. It was horrifying enough for me not to be able to see "Dad #2", Greg Pruyn prior to his recent passing, and if my Mom were to pass away during or after without me seeing her I could never forgive myself. I'm also going to see "Mom #2", Karen Pruyn, who recently lost her husband to cancer as well. In addition, I'm going to look into how to get home quickly if there are any difficulties with her during or post-surgery. Being home, even just for that tiny window of time will be good for me. I can hear the trains through the bedroom windows, get a piece of beach glass, and hug my folks really hard. I hopefully will be able to see my sister and brother-in-law as well, presuming they're not on vacation.

At the end of the day I am positive it comes down to these facts right here:

1-My Mom and I haven't always gotten along, but, just like every OTHER kid out there, not only can I not fathom or imagine my life without her in it, I'm absolutely TERRIFIED of her dying.

2-I need to tell her what I just typed, and say a couple of things to Pops while I'm at it. The books need to be cleared, 9th-step style, which is the only way to go for me.

3-Meetings, meetings, and MORE MEETINGS. I have to have them, especially for three weeks in England.

4-I need to be a Super Man" right now, showing my boy Willzzzo how it's done to be a good Daddy and a good adult. Living life largely with him and allowing him to become who he will be with as much guidance and structure as I can provide.

5-I crave intimacy, I know that now. And NOT just THAT kind of "intimacy". I want to tell people my secret plans and have them say "THAT sounds exciting, how are you going to do it?", and NOT "Well, how will that affect THIS?". I want the intimacy that says "You want to stay up all night? Because you work better / think better at night? FUCKING COOL! I want the intimacy of having people in my life whom I can trust and who will trust me back, and who know my love for them is 100% unconditional, no matter what life has brought us. I want I want the intimacy with people that allows for trust even if you've broken it before. I want that intimacy to be solid and scary in its might and full of laughter and creativity with no limit on artistic truths no matter WHAT the costs might be. This is what I sought out with my Mom during the course of my entire adolescence, and I found several people who fulfilled this in my life and STILL DO! Dave Pruyn, John Zuck and Joe Funderburk, in case you wanted to know.

6-I must become an anchor. No more shitty sleep habits, because these habits are causing me great physical and mental harm, I KNOW it! No more crappy food, I must show my son the way, and it's NOT McDonalds, it's cooking together at home. I am going to play my bass EVERY DAY, because something's in the works right now that will need every molecule of my ability to pull off.

I love my Mom, and I get to look her in the eyes and tell her so in a couple of weeks. I will see my Dad and I will see Presque Isle as well. It's 3:56 a.m. Chicago-time right now, and I believe I'm just going to stay the fuck up, hit the six miles I need to run as soon as it gets light out, and make it through the day with espresso roast and green juice! Thanks for reading this, it means the world to me.
I love you all and please be well, Paul

p.s.-I think I need an anchor tattoo as a reminder....