No two other words are drawing more ire for me lately than “Prove it”. Here is an example: Somebody (one of my friends on fartbook) will post an article as if it is ‘truth’ other than opinion or speculation. Most of our news channels do the same thing. Why is that? because they need to fill up ad space mostly. So they get guests who are loud and don’t care about the facts as long as it aligns with their own beliefs. I get it. I too know the comfort of the echo chamber. But is to be sated what you merely want, or do you want to get down to the truth? Well, friend, when you post inflammatory articles that are not backed up by hard truth like court documents or official statements by experts who have degrees from accredited learning institutions or years doing research in the field, well then you are just posting speculation, opinion, or your ‘belief’ backed up only by feelings, which is your will to do. But don’t get offended when I ask you for evidence. When I ask you to “prove it”, don’t start calling me names or attacking my character. I like hard proof. You know what hard proof is to me? Hard proof comes in the form of a bill that I have to pay from the hospital. Hard proof comes from my Doctor wife who sees kids getting, dying, and spreading a virus that half of the country thinks is a hoax and doesn’t take seriously. That’s what I’m talking about. So don’t try to make assumptions about who I am or what I do, friendo. To me there is 2 kinds of people. the talkers, and the doer’s. The talkers like to pontificate about how they would ‘do things differently’ and they like to speculate about what will happen when they finally get around to doing whatever it is they say they are going to do. But alas, they never do anything that takes any real courage or sacrifice. I’m the other type. I do things. I often accomplish my task before I even talk about it. I didn’t say I was going to write a book, I just fucking did it. Then I told people about it. I’ve done it about 40 times since then. And I’m still doing it. So don’t get pissed at me if I hold you accountable for your actions. And don’t think that my mind won’t be changed. My close friends will tell you, I am open to new thoughts, and I let go opinions I used to have, even if it was ‘my truth’ at one point. I keep my mind open to everything. You should too.
It’s been a rough year for everyone and it gets easy to slip into the mind set that 2020 is after you personally, but that’s just not the case. It’s been a real kick in the crotch to everyone. Me? I ( and my family) have had to deal with divorce, heroin addiction, suicide, financial loss, and a bunch of other stuff that would make you sick to your stomach if you had to deal with it. This week added a new heaping helping to our already full plate: Our Uncle Dave, the Patriarch of the family that I claim, died from Covid. He sickened other family members as well, so we shall see what the Ward/Nelson doom tally says if and when we beat this.
This was a difficult page to create. And it is only the start of this short, miserable little fucking Birthday story.
I’m moving out at the end of the week. Into a tiny room in a small basement. Just when you think you have got it figured out, and you can take a nap on your own couch in your own home in the middle of the day with no worries, along comes Life with a knife in his hands and he jams it into your brain and he gleefully shouts “Not today, fat boy!”. Funny thing is, I always knew this day was coming. Or rather, this series of days which will usher me into the next phase of an already unsettled life.