Well, Do I?


It was a long night, not nearly as long for me as others, but I will say that whatever creative juices I had flowing in me yesterday have long since evaporated, and that is okay, not every day can be the one where you write the great American essay in a weird blog format so like, maybe, ten of your friends and random Internet people can read it, right?

Today is a day of rest, relaxation, and of heavy, heavy medication, meditation, and pondering the question that is looking in every parent’s mind right now.

Do I send them?

One Of A Few Probably

This is me, JameyBear

Today is a sense of tremendous joy and tremendous anger for me.

Nine years ago I was blessed by the Goddess and the strength of my wife to welcome my third son into this crazy world we live in. There was, as both of my other sons, issues with his birth and the wonderful people in the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit at Strong Memorial Hospital made sure we had not only the best care we could receive for him but the compassion that is so desperately needed in times when your heart is torn from your chest and you are looking down at your hours’ old son not knowing what would happen next.

For those of you blessed to know my little hyper-mimic, you know that he is active and wonderful and remembers every bad word I shouldn’t say around him and a million other things that make him sweet and lovable and kind and gentle and, most importantly, so very much like his mother. His mother would smile and her golden eyes would light up a room and a laugh that would make the angels themselves weep with joy.

His mother who doesn’t get to see him today.

No, no I am not going to spiral into that hole, but she is indeed gone and every single person in the world who ever knew her is missing her.

What makes me angry isn’t the tragedy of early death, no what makes me mad is that there are so many that are alive that shouldn’t be when she is gone.

Yep, I said that.

Karma, yeah I know.

I still want the bad people dead.

You Take The Low Road and I’ll Take The High Road, We’ll Both Take Our Own Roads and Never Meet Again

I'm Still Here

I could get used to this sitting downstairs and talking into my phone thing. Maybe I should make this a daily thing. I would record them, and have my rusty tin can voice pour all over you, except that my air conditioner is loud, and the fan that I use to blow the air-conditioned air on me is even louder, so that’s not going to happen. Before you say something like “Oh Bear, it’s only 47 degrees outside right now”, all I have to say to you is… “So”?

There’s a comfort knowing that you were right. a moment where your brain can analyze something and know that for once, you didn’t react in a way that normal people would not have reacted in yes, I use the word normal people and then I use my name because let’s keep it honest, I’m not exactly what you would call the square peg in the square hole, or whatever other metaphor you want to use for that situation.

It’s kind of ironic that I am sitting here listening to the trash being taken out outside, and that is exactly how I feel about a lot of things in the world right now and I will leave that to your imagination. No, I really won’t, but I had to say that just on the off-chance that I was going to be nonpedantic and somewhat vaguely human. However, the time for me being a nice Bear has passed I think. and let me tell you why I’m mad, and it won’t be for the reason that a few if you think I am.

If you asked someone for a piece of information, and then they refused you that information, for whatever reason. The reason doesn’t matter in this particular context, would you then go and try and acquire the information from other sources?

Now I’m not talking about if you’re worried about if a house is on fire, or if you’re checking to make sure you didn’t leave the stove on or something. I’m talking some generalized bullshit that can not be known by you and your world would still keep going just as well as it has been. Why would you go to somebody else and ask that question, why couldn’t you just be content with the fact that nobody wanted to tell you, for whatever reason that they don’t owe you, and just move on with the fact that you don’t know? I like knowing things, I’m a big fan of knowing things, but sometimes you just don’t get to know all the fucking things.

For years, a lot of you have listened to me tell you that I’m not a good person. You though, you wonderful and beautiful people that love and know me well, kept telling me that I wasn’t a bad person. Today, and this does connect to the paragraph above, just bear with me for a second I’ll get back to it I promise, I have decided that I agree with you.

I’m not a bad person. I love my kids, I do everything I can for them. I love my friends, I’d give them the skin off my back if that’s what they needed. I help where I can, I donate money to causes I believe her just, I would March in the protest downtown this very day if I didn’t have those babies that I needed to take care of. So, I want to believe that I’m a good person.

However, a good person and a doormat are two different things. It has taken me a great many years to understand that because while I may not be a bad person, I’m not always the smartest person. I was always under the mistaken impression that people who called themselves your friends, lovers, partners, what have you, simply didn’t treat you in a negative way because that’s the way it was supposed to be. Naive, I know, but you have to admit it’s kind of cute in an endearing idiot way.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes guys oh, I’ve heard some of you that are reading this, I’ve hurt a few of you that are reading this badly. You found it in your heart to forgive me, and for that, I’ll always love you. Now, in the spirit of forgiving myself, I’m not going to talk about recent events anymore. Not because I’m not still very angry about certain things that have transpired, not because I don’t need to get it out, but because the more I talk about it the more I know that I will get into things that are not my business to discuss and that’s just not fair to anybody involved.

I wouldn’t call it taking the high road as much as I would call it choosing to be on a road at all and staying out of the mud path.

Start your week sane. Love one another. Wear your masks. Wash your fucking hands, and as always, until next time, I bid you peace.

Sound Mind And Body Is A Relative Term Mind You


I, Bear, being sound of mind and body, do say the following to women who will know who they are as they read of themselves in the words herein…

I dropped my ring on the floor when we went for coffee the first time. You laughed when he found it on the floor and handed it to me and I fell in love with you before in the swimming panic I was in, you simply smiled and went with it like you always do. You let me buy you Calla Lilies. You spoil me with the support I do not deserve and love I cannot fathom. You have held me, literally and metaphorically as I have broken and fell to the ground in pieces and pieces. You forgave, for that alone you have me.

You walk in my Darkness and you are never afraid because who but the Air Traffic Controller can walk in the chaos of planes and never need to worry about getting hit by one? You are the sole reason I can never look at a coconut again and not cringe. You have solved some of the most complex things that I have ever had in my head with the ease of me writing that coconuts scare me now. You make me feel old and you are the only person I have ever met who can do it and make me feel good about it somehow. You let me hug you and spin you and you don’t punch me as hard as other people.

From the very first time I saw you, oddly enough with a full cup of coffee on your head, I knew that you were as wonderful a person as I could ever know and you have never once given me a reason to change that estimation of you. You know that we saw things blowing across a road that NEVER should be able to move on their own. You’re the reason I live here, you held my son before she did and it is one of the highlights of my life. For the record, I never tried to tickle your liver, well, maybe not NEVER.

You were the first one there with me that horrible morning and you sat and held me and cried with me with tears I have never forgotten. I remember every word of our first conversation on those uncomfortable stairs. You give some of the best hugs I have ever had, ever. You let me call you a ridiculous nickname and I think I can remember the limerick I made up about you that night if you give me enough time. I came and held your hand when times were dire and we will always have the memory of me being whatever all those kids were calling me.

I have told you I love you every single day for years. it is mostly the first thing I say to you in the morning and when you write me back I smile. You let me give you just as ridiculous a nickname as your genetic partner in crime above and I remember holding you on the porch and never wanting to kill someone quite as bad as I did that night. You have grown up terrifyingly fast and I am so proud to know you and who you have turned into.

I told you just yesterday that you were one of the most wonderful people I know and that your words and hugs were a balm to my very soul. I miss you so very much and I owe you a thousand times a thousand hugs for that and that alone not to mention all the other reasons. You have made me laugh and cry and you were always here for me when I needed you to be. Every single time.

That picture will always sit in the center of my heart as one of the most beautiful things I have ever known to have happened. Ordering a sandwich with you is an experience that should truly be filmed. I invented a new way to sign my name just for you and you alone. You make me cry each and every time I watch you dance. You tried to teach me truths I was not ready for and I am so grateful for you to have been patient and honest enough with me to try again.

Our conversations each morning are the highlight of my day. From consensual roaring to the lamenting of caffeinated absences. You are a truly beautiful woman within and without and I miss you a great deal and I owe you at least a gallon or two of coffee. You are an extraordinary human being and you have some of the most amazing children I have ever heard of.

I haven’t known you as long as I have known everyone else here, but you are still one of my closest friends. You allowed me to get past the creepy bear stage and you have listened to me in moments of mania and depression both. You brought me a cupcake and gave me a card that I still just next to my bed where I can see it each and every day.

Oh, you. I would never forget you. Golden Light. Sister Sweet. Magnificent and kind, wise and beautiful, sweet, and soulful. Ours is a history with far more tragedy than either of us would like, but you never once have quit on me even after all the ample opportunities I have given you to do precisely that.

No Love, I Have Not Forgotten You, Not Once…

You gave me everything that I ever wanted and all the things that I never even knew existed before you. Three kids, Ducks of renown and wonders of the heart. A decade of marriage, two countries, moving like vagabonds until we found our home, here among almost everyone up there I just wrote about, although you would love the sweetest one you never got to meet.

I am neither going anywhere temporarily or permanently, I truly love you all and I needed to tell you all how much. However, this is the best I could come up with.

The Door Is Open

Open Door

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired guys. Migraines and Depression, Anxiety and Neuroses up the proverbial ass.

So I am simply not going to be those things anymore. I am not naive enough to believe that this is an easy thing, or that it will be an instant thing.

However, as the people I love the most tell me frequently, I can’t pour from an empty cup. My sweet, wonderful Gentle Readers, I have no idea where my fucking cup is. I couldn’t tell you how much is in it, I couldn’t tell you the last time it had anything in it. So I am going to do the ONE thing I don’t do.

I am going to take care of my fucking self for once. I am going to focus on every goddamn breath if I have to until I get to a place where I can feel genuine happiness and not some weird guilt based fakery. I want to smile and have it hurt because the muscles are tight, nit because I am faking it for so long I want to slit my fucking soul in half. I am going to get myself, in mind and body and soul, in shape. It is the way it is going to be and I am sorry that some of you already are hurt by this choice.

There is a limit that we all have on how many spoons we are capable of losing in a lifetime and I am there.

I spoke to a sweet and spiritual soul last night and without realizing what she did, she laid my fears to rest over my need to do this. She took my heart for a moment in my most broken state and gave it back to me and it felt warm again. A hint of it, a shadow of what it will be, but dammit it is there.

So there are going to be some changes, and I am not going to list them all here because not only do I not have to do this, I am under no obligation to. I am instead going to go and do the HARD work of making myself right again. I am not disappearing. I am still going to post my Ducks, memes, social activism posts, but there is always this in the back on my mind and heart.


Most Importantly.

If you do not like this. If you cannot accept that I need to go and do the things I need to do to make myself better…

The Door Is Fucking Open