chaptal

It's been a year since my son has been in the ICF. Not a day goes by in which I feel grief, guilt, failure, parts of all three at once. Failure to thrive is what's happened. If there is any progress with him, it's extremely slow. One good thing is that his weight is at an all time high.

He had a dental appointment yesterday, a cleaning. An aide from the ICF provided transport and I met them there.

His dentist is a gem, absolutely wonderful with him during the whole crown process. There was a new hygienist yesterday, though, and they infantalized him. He's 23, will be 24 on Monday. I really cannot stand when medical personnel talk to him in baby talk. It's not a lone instance. So much training is still required. So much is unknown.

I remain retired and have been since mid June. Went to Scotland for two weeks right after. Great trip though I did some internal damage with the barley products while going from sentient to 12,000 steps in a day. Edinburgh is all stairs and I had to cut the day trip short. We did go to Perth to see the Stone of Destiny, or did we? A Glasgow pub claims to have the real one, and you can touch that. No photos or videos at the Perth Museum are allowed, what does that tell you?

Also walked right into the start of an Orange Walk, the Protestants are still trying to troll the Irish in Glasgow about 400 years after winning some dumb battle. Sectarianism lives, and it can't seem to be killed. A lot of joyless white men marching to a violent group of snare drums. I stood behind the OG Coney statue that the Tartan Army brought to America. I did watch Scotland get their asses beat by Brazil in a World Cup match in a pub, they were sad but accepting of their fate.

Came home to very shitty air quality. The earth is on fire. Do we get to choose our own catastrophe, or will they all be assigned to us? One reason I wanted to retire is because I do not want it all to end while at work, cataloging some county map of Nebraska from 1953 that will just go into a drawer forever. Cannot say I miss it.

My son is doing well. Not really participating in the activities of the group, but no longer in his room ignoring everyone. He is in the living room ignoring everyone now. It's a step forward.

Working on finishing album three. Started the final mixes on two songs today. Twelve to go. Then the photoshoot, the hated uploading that will lead to single digit streams.

That's what retirement is all about, Charlie Brown.

Gave in to the pressure and work threw a retirement party for me today. It was pleasant. I gave an off the cuff speech that people seemed to like. My wife showed up. I got some cards and gifts. Unexpected but welcomed.

Five more workdays to go.

I work with some people who are very smart and do very cool work. I will miss seeing them in the building and chatting. You say you'll keep in touch, but reality hits.

Maybe in these cases I'll be wrong.

My son has had a couple of dental appointments over the last few weeks. During a fit a few years ago he broke one of his front teeth. A temporary cap was put on. He knocked that out banging his head against the wall. A new temporary tooth was put in last month, and a mold was made of his mouth. He did not knock that out. He did have to be restrained during the dentist's work. It took about an hour. He did well.

Last Tuesday the new permanent tooth and crown was put in. Just his hands were restrained. He was quite fine as new tooth was popped in. Took less than ten minutes. His dentist specializes with special needs young adults and he is marvelous.

Nine months in his home now. I was told he's staying in his room less and coming out to the common area. Ignoring everyone, but not privately. He's the chimp and everyone else is Jane Goodall.

I'm in a frustrated space artistically. My ability and my skills are not aligning with my ambitions. It's not the end of the world. It's not like putting a duvet cover on. I'll sort it out come July and August. Maybe a new record in September/October. You can pencil it in, lightly.

Just fourteen more workdays in front of me. Been throwing a lot of old shit from my desk. Good and I wonder why I held on to it in the first place. No one gives a shit. People kept asking me if I was going to have a retirement party and I finally gave in. It's on the 11th. I did make a playlist. No obvious digs, but there is some subtle tapping of heads and pieces of joy on it.

I'm finally ditching my paid Spotify account and moving all the chips into Apple Music. Might as well hang with the devil I know.

Sent this to a higher up at the university today. A lot of artists should be getting behind this. I understand Scorcese sent a new letter asking to keep the theater where it is.

Mr. _____,

My name is Edward Plunkett. I am a long time member of the Wexner Center of the Arts and a nineteen year employee of The Ohio State University Libraries.

I've been going to events at the Wexner Center Film Theater as long as I have lived in Columbus. Thirty six years. It provides this city, its film lovers and artists, a place for education and community. It also provides cinephiles and film makers from around the world a place for connection.

As the great Martin Scorcese himself has said about the Wexner Center’s film department, “I can’t stress how essential it is that a place like the Wexner Center, which exists in the middle of the country, away from these supposed cultural centers, is here to give people an opportunity to study films and to see them in the context of the other arts.”

The University’s development plans for the area surrounding the Wexner Center for the Arts call for, to the best of my knowledge, the removal of the film theater so there is the aesthetic of a clear view and pathway from High Street east to the Thompson Library.

Having the theater steps away from the museum, the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library, the Fine Arts Library, would be such a unique quality to lose.

An alternative location would not have the vast resources the film theater currently possesses. It is a vital part of the arts community and cannot be removed from the university's and city's fabric.

I humbly ask you to reconsider this development plan and to implore the board of trustees to do the same,

Sincerely,

I've had a recurring pain in my left knee since taking 18,000 steps in Manhattan last November. It’s most likely a Bakers Cyst in the back of it. It hurts when I get up and start walking. The pain ebbs and flows during the day. It’s less in the mornings. Going to a sports medicine facility on Monday to see if there is some sort of exercise treatment I can do.

The retirement paperwork is filled out, clicking on websites, getting forms notarized – it’s a bit of work one has to do when you want to stop working.

After the woman in my neighboring cubicle dropped dead at her desk while I was out on vacation, another ill colleague collapsed in the work bathroom, another coworker came into work looking like a corpse after his chemotherapy I’ve decided I’d rather go out at home, and not see the world end from my work computer.

So my last day of being at work is right before my birthday, and June 30th is when the commitment ends.

Going to Scotland shortly after, then will try to finish up the third Authority Control album. A lot of the songs are done, but who knows if something better will come out of my brain.

I’m very lucky to be able to do this. Hope to catch up on reading actual books, figure out cooking and make some noise. It will be flaneur time.

Put in for retirement today. It ends in June. It's scary. Life will be different. I'd rather not be working while the world, capitalism or it all comes to an end.

Maybe it will not, and all will be ok. So much the better.

It’s been almost six months since my son moved to the ICF. Still not used to the quiet. I wake up at 3AM expecting him to come upstairs and say he wants breakfast. My brain and body are hard wired for a reaction to negative events, and the wires have not reconnected properly.

There are still emails from the facility. He’s done this. Why does he do that? How come he is, insert your own thing.

We visit him about once a week. He seems to know the routine. He takes one of the books we bring and hands it to one of us so we can read it to him. Then another book, and a third. After that, he rearranges some of the things in the room. Stuff under the table, the trash can, a framed photo on a bookshelf.

Then he gets bored, or we have to go shopping, or something. He puts his coat back on and goes to the lobby.

I look at him, give him and kiss and tell him I’ll see him soon. He walks away, down the hall to the buildings rec room, by the door to the courtyard that leads to the building he lives in now.

No, he never goes away

When you see the 1099 and laugh.

When you see the stats on Bandcamp and wonder why you really post your music.

When you put those two lines you came up with in the car into your Google Drive, for later

At the end of the whys, I do it for me.

Yesterday I finally went into a local wine shop for the first time. It’s been open the whole time I’ve lived here. It was time to check it out.

It’s quite stuffed with good wine. A lot of imported wine and very little grocery store product. Roamed around and then asked where the German section was. The owner laughed and pointed me toward a couple of small shelves. I understand that there’s very little good German wine in Ohio and the owner bemoaned the pricing of them. Found an interesting 11 year old Bordeaux for under $20 and he told me how he had a cold when he tried it and could not find any merlot in the wine, even though the label said it was 90% merlot. After trying it, I was not sure of the blend either. The wine was find, very mature, soft tannings, decent enough fruit. The nose was off putting. Smelled under ripe with an unpleasant sharp aroma I could not place. Glad I tried it but I would not buy another one.

We talked at the register. Told him I was in the business here, long ago. He asked where I worked and he perked up when I mentioned one place. “The owner, is he still alive?”

”No, he died in 1993.

”Was it a drug overdose? I remember he had a drinking problem.”

I nodded.

My brain gets flooded with past mistakes (some over 50 years old) I did, and releases it all at random times. I feel like my brain is trying to abuse me and it’s hard for me to switch it away to something softer. Becoming more aware that it is self abuse more so than memory, if that makes any sense.

I’ll go back to the wine shop and tell him what I thought of the wine, and buy some more. Maybe ask for a recommendation.

I did not really know him but whathisname and I were LJ friends for a long time. I admired his research and knowledge of the cemeteries of the Los Angeles region. He wrote books about it, and gave tours which I would have loved to have been a part of.

He was also very funny, and a good writer. I remember how he negotiated his life post divorce and tried to find a relationship. He told stories about his interest in a recently divorced neighbor and a crush on a cashier in a store he frequented. Made you root for him in a rom-com way.

He died on New Year's Eve. I hope he knew how loved and admired he was. My condolences to his family, friends and those who knew him best.

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/mark-masek-dead-hollywood-remains-to-be-seen-cemetery-book-1236469167/

Trying hard to maintain here. My son was in hospital last weekend. He was vomiting something resembling coffee grounds that is undigested blood so the staff took him to the ER. He has an issue with part of his bowel not moving the mail so he was admitted.

There was also a snowstorm going on and the roads were not really passable so I did not get there until Sunday morning, when it was zero degrees outside, and the roads were still lousy.

He had his own space in the ER and seemed in a cheerful enough mood, and was in no visible signs of distress.

A room was found for him later in the day. He was there until Tuesday afternoon. He had a endoscopy which revealed a hiatal hernia and an irritated esophagus.

Again, he was in a decent mood the whole time he was there. He only got out of bed on his own, which an IV hookup once, to move a cup of water on the windowsill three feet to the right. He surprised us by eating vanilla Greek yogurt with no hesitation. He shocked us when he ate most of a pureed hospital meal of pork and masked potatoes. He took an spoonful of broccoli and politely drew the line at having any more.

Trying to relay to the staff of the facility that monitoring his diet is very important. Feels like more of a battle than it should be.

We're going to see him later.

Other than that, this weird ass calendar year is coming to its conclusion. Will I retire in six months? Stay tuned.

Went to visit my son today, as I do weekly. He seems to be adjusting well to his new place. Looks alright, has to wear a rugby-type helmet to protect his head when he bangs it against the wall. It's policy, and the wound just about heals until he opens it up again.

I bring books and he picks one up and hands it to me so I can read to him, and we do that for awhile. There is no real conversation. He does not say how his day is, or what he thinks about his new home, or about petting the farm animals that were brought to the facility last week. I get scant information while they continue to extract any dose of information from me like death from a thousand cuts.

Life is not a zero sum game, but answering my questions with an 'I don't know' or 'we're looking into it' is not a sustainable dynamic.

We went to the dentist on Monday. It was our first trip alone out of the facility since he moved there. He did fine. He's never really happy in the dentist's chair. Who is? His dentist is rather amazing with his patients. A good man doing the work. When we left his office he shot a look at me that wished death. We are going back in January.

We had Home Box Office on our cable system when I was 9-10 years old and Sleeper aired all the time. I probably fell in love with Diane Keaton then and there. She was hilarious in that film, along with Love and Death, Manhattan and so many other films. She had range in the very dark Looking For Mr. Goodbar and as the suffering Kay Corleone in the Godfather films. She was so much more than Father of the Bride and First Wives Club. A very talented woman who left a wonderful canon of work.

My wife and I visited my son for the first time in the facility. They brought him out, he was very calm, no outward anxiety.

I brought him some books and he immediately wanted us to read them, twice.

We were told he's doing ok and finally seems to be adjusting to his new home, environment, routines.

He looks well enough, tired, but he does not sleep enough.

I let his mother know she should go visit him.

I feel a little relieved. The half hour was better than expected. He left through the rec room and out to his place with no trouble.

Will try and go again during the day next Monday.

The local news asked me if I have any thoughts on RFK Jr's wanting to find a cause for autism by September, I said I did.

We met on Live Journal. Over 20 years ago. Explosivo had a knowledge of music and a love of the Mets. At the time he was living in L.A., still trying to save the music industry from itself. He was so smart, sometimes too much. He put his life into his own record label and released three records. None of them hit.

You should know about Eugene Edwards' My Favorite Revolution though. It's a brilliant piece of power pop throughout. It should have been hit. Edwards is now Dwight Yoakam's lead guitarist.

Tremolo — Love is the Greatest Revenge had a few rockers on it. Check out You Were Born For This. Fit right in during the early 2000's.

The Vanity Project was a side project and first solo record by Stephen Page of Barenaked Ladies. Totally overlooked.

Marc Nathan was a force of nature. He was a friend of Bill W. and helped so many people. I was having a rough time and deleted my LJ. He reached out and called me, "Eddie, you ok?"

I never called him back, but did acknowledge his call.

We did finally meet, at a Mets game in Cincinnati in 2015. By then he had moved to Nashville to try and kickstart his career. I bought him dinner, to his annoyance. He got us decent seats. Left us to go to the concession stand, came back with a yard long bag of popcorn. He was an amazing heckler. We parted with him searching for the casino as we headed back home.

We would occasionally message and text each other about the Mets, or the happenings on Jeopardy (He liked Austin, I was not a fan) but as time and his health issues grew, they stopped. He was still pushing music on his Facebook page, most recently Dan Spencer. I texted him about a week ago about Jake Mangum of the Rays (former Mets minor leaguer) finally making it to the big leagues, never heard back either because I had the wrong number or he was not able to respond.

Marc died yesterday. I am grateful for his presence in my life and I'll miss him. Condolences to his friends and those who knew and loved him best.

Self doubt flows through me. I create because I do then ask myself what’s the point. Who will listen? Read? Review? Share? Stream?

The second Authority Control record was a lead balloon. It was released too soon and the mix on a third of the songs is weak. For starters. Even the likes of the music I post have dwindled. I’m not out to make money, sales figures do not deny that.

Again, though, money is not the point. Throwing money into something that’s not going to be heard seems pointless though. Sure, it’s nice to do for myself, to show some musical growth (and it’s there). I can spend more to have a professional mix and master but if no one’s going to stream it, why bother?

And I go back to the real musicians, the ones who have had a few hit records, tv appearances, positive reviews and so on. I see a few really struggling out there to make a living. If you don’t tour, you do not make money. Some musicians are getting to old for that grind and I get it. Some have great music that gets zero airplay or gets into an algorithm that gets them exposure. Streaming income is also a pittance.

How the heck can you stand out? Word of mouth? An influencer likes your stuff? A viral video on Tik Tok? A good song, a good record, does not seem to matter.

How many subscribers to you have? How many likes did you get? Did you get over 1,000 streams on Spotify so you matter enough to get a few pennies from a billionaire?

I’m sitting on a couple of original songs and a cover and have no idea what to do with them? Release an as EP? Three songs no one will care about? Let them die in my iPad?

There’s still going to be noise made in the Cavern. What comes out is the question I keep asking. I do it for me and my ego seeks some small validation. It’s a hard reality to see and try to resolve.

Back in the day there were two women I was involved with romantically who both said I should read Still Life With Woodpecker.

I did. Hated it.

Really hated it.

Tom Robbins, the author of the book of seventies bullshit philosophy and mysticism I really hated, died yesterday aged 92.

Never wished him dead, but that book sucked and I can't get that time back.

Broke a small plate tonight. Slipped out of my hand, landed on the stovetop, split in half. These things happen.

The ice and snow in the alley next to the house was such a mess it took me four times to get my car up the slope and into the garage. This cold, winter, rarely appeals to me. Nature always wins though. It's hard to fight it.

In the midst of the lunacy happening, performative or not, I saw that J.D. Vance had some minor sinus surgery over the weekend. Would I be surprised if the next time I saw his grievance babyface that he looked more like Melania? No, I would not
.
That's how it's impacting me right now. Have to start taking care more of what I can control. Left Twitter a month ago and have not looked back. There are people I genuinely miss but I got fed up with with being called a pedo by some rando because I have 'works in a library' in my profile. I tried to filter and control it, but the crazy fucks have taken over. May they feed on their own shit and die.

Making noises in the Cavern. One cover coming out by the end of the month. An original, when? I do not feel another whole album coming this year, but I do not want to sit on stuff like Neil Young.

The Young Man had a dental appointment this morning. Handled it all very well while the dentist got in there and cleaned his teeth. He did not flinch or resist, but after a time his anxiety and distress became apparent, and the dentist stopped. Very brave stuff from him today. His month has more to come.

1. Where did you begin 2024?
Home, I guess.

2. What did you do in 2024 that you'd never done before?
Released two albums.

3. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Nah.

4. Were you in school (anytime this year)?
I work in one, but did not attend classes.

5. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.

6. Did anyone close to you die?
Quiet year on that part.

7. What places did you visit?
Manchester, Dublin, Liverpool. Great trip.

8. What would you like to have in 2025 that you lacked in 2024?
Inner peace

9. What dates from 2024 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Around my birthday in Dublin. Seeing the Post Office, Gaol, and Glasnevin Cemetery put a lot of the Easter Rising in physical perspective.

10. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Not one, but two albums!

11. What was your biggest failure?
To stabilize my son's life.

12. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just aging

13. What was the best thing you bought?
A guitar pedal and PA.

14. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My wife for putting up with the chaos.

15. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Those who did not turn out and vote in November.

16. Where did most of your money go?
Travel.

17. What did you get excited about?
Travel, concerts.

18. What song will always remind you of 2024?
Wild God — Nick Cave

19. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Sadder
b) thinner or fatter? Not thinner
c) richer or poorer? The numbers say richer

20. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Traveled. socialized, learned to master tracks.

21. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Doomscrolling

22. How did you spend Christmas?
In Autismland

23. Did you fall in love in 2024?
With the one I'm with, still.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
I'm really digging One Hundred Years of Solitude. Great direction and sets. Very period accurate. It's been a long time since I've read the book, but I'm remembering stuff as it happens.

25. What did you do for your birthday in 2024?
Went to Glasnevin Cemetery. Climbed O'Connell Tower. Had a pint at Kavanaugh's. Got sunburn. In Ireland.

26. What was the best book you read?
Nothing I read for the Thurber Prize. Making my way through Ian Rankin's Rebus series.

27. What did you want and get?
Short scale bass. A Gretsch, I love it.

28. What did you want and not get?
My son to have a life with meaning.

29. Did you make some new friends this year?
I do not think so.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More streams and record sales.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2024?
Tired.

32. What kept you sane?
My wife. The record collection and creating in the Cavern.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you think about the most?
Nick Cave

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
defeat.

35. Who did you miss?
Jim Bach

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2024.
Just do it

The Ohio GOP is mad. Crazy mad and mad at people who are not like them.

Had a dream that an ex posted I was an abuser on a social media platform, and spelled my last name wrong.

The young man can use a break. A chance. A something positive for his well being.

The Golden Age of Time has gone over like a lead balloon. So it goes.

Retirement in about 19 months. Will it happen in a world of tariffs and daily chaos?

So many questions.

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