Hello and welcome to your favorite MS game show - Spot the symptom! And here's your host, the one thing you need the most, your Brain (B)!
(Polite applause from the non-lesioned part of the audience)
Hi, I'm your brain and first, welcome, and second, legs fold forward, and butt, lower yourself and prepare for contact with a chair. Thanks. Now please say hello to our contestants - the Appendix (A) and the Right Kidney (RK)! (Crowd: applause. )
B: Let's meet our contestants. Right Kidney, what do you do?
RK: Well, Brain, as you know, because you are the brain, I extract waste from blood, balance body fluids, form urine, and aid in other important functions of the body.
Thanks, Right Kidney. And Appendix, what do you do?
A:Nothing. I just sit there between the intestines.
B: OK. There's our contestants. Now, here's our first question on Name That MS Symptom -
"The attack may last from minutes to hours." Yes, Appendix?
A: What is an appendicitis attack?
Flatulence Buzzer! (Crowd: Awwwww)
B: Nope, sorry, appendix. Okay, let's move on to our next question on Name That MS Symptom. "When blood flow returns, the area becomes red and then later returns to normal color." Yes, Appendix?
A: What is a very bad rash?
Flatulence Buzzer! (Crowd: Awwwww)
B: Nope, not this time, Appendix. Joining in Right Kidney? No? OK. Here's our third and final clue. "First, the fingers, toes, ears or nose-" Yes, Appendix?
A: Leprosy. I mean "What is Leprosy?"
Flatulence Buzzer! (Crowd: Awwwww)
B: Sorry, Appendix, that's not correct.
A: Whattaya mean not correct? Those body parts are always falling off lepers. Two thousand years ago you had to kick the lepers out of your village when things started going bad. There always was a leper somewhere to blame and to cast out. I feel for them, you know? I mean I look sideways at the Upper or Lower Intestine, and before I know it, I'm snipped and cast out myself. You don't do anything, they say. We've moved on in evolution, they say. Me and the tonsils, always the first to go. Sad.
B: Thank you for playing, Appendix. Right Kidney, do you have the proper response? The answer was "First, the fingers, toes, ears or nose become white, then turn blue."
RK: I think its Reynaud's Phenomenon? I mean What is Reynaud's Phenomenon?
Dingdingdingdingding! (Crowd: applause from non lesioned part of the audience. Lesioned parts of the audience sit sullen like the opposition party at the State of the Union - because they've forgotten they are still in the Union)
B: Yes, that's right, it's Reynaud's Phenomenon! And no matter how much you put on woolen socks and mittens, it'll still make you miserable, by freezing up fingers and toes. If you're on a beta blocker, like we are in this body, your doctor has to change that prescription. And a note to me, remember when stepping into that warm pool at the Health Center to go very slowly or the hands and feet will burn like red hot chili peppers. OK, that's all the time we have because we've just walked into a room and we have no idea why we did that. I'm Your Brain, and I will get right on that problem, whatever it was. Bye !
A: Sure, kidneys get all the glory 'cause they can be given to somebody else and save lives. Donate your organs, they say. Be a lifesaver, they say. But nooooo, not you, Appendix. Nobody needs another appendix, Appendix. Get back to sitting between the intestines. We'll call you if we need something to burst. Ha-ha, Blah, blah. Might as well get back there and do whatever it is I do, but I wish the intestines would stop throwing so much crap my way. I'm surrounded by it. Sheesh.
(Raynaud's info from NIH)
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Slip-Sliding Away.
My father had the same version of MS as I do (or close to it) so I am lucky in the case that I have an idea what could happen if I am not aware and ready. Still, things happen. I've always been Mr. Dependable, the guy that my family and coworkers turned to to save the day, and I did have a pretty good score doing that. Now that my own brain has turned against me, the "Tom" in there is seeing that I am making serious mistakes, such as wiping out the checking account to pay bills that weren't due until April. But that's what I did. I pay the bills. We had spoken with our financial advisor a day previous, and had seen we are in pretty good shape. But we won't be if I continue to do what I was just expected to do (by me, and then everyone else). It's just another little slip. My wife and I will work finances together from now on. I was used to and pleased to be "The Guy". But MS takes my understanding, my ability to concentrate, and words.
There is a movie being released soon starring Julianne Moore called "Still Alice", about a college professor who develops early onset Alzheimer's Disease. As the disease progresses, the family has to adjust to the changes in Alice as does Alice herself. For those afflicted with the brain lethargy in MS, you know the loss of words (good side- sometimes you come up with a better word), and how hard it is to communicate. Actually, writing on line at this second is the best way for me to talk to people, until I get to the Stephen Hawking level ( and yes, I know, he has ALS) (more parenthesis - Susannah Callahan's great book Brain on Fire posits that neurological diseases affecting the brain are all the same disease, just at different levels like bipolar then MS and further up the scale ALS).
This book:
There is a movie being released soon starring Julianne Moore called "Still Alice", about a college professor who develops early onset Alzheimer's Disease. As the disease progresses, the family has to adjust to the changes in Alice as does Alice herself. For those afflicted with the brain lethargy in MS, you know the loss of words (good side- sometimes you come up with a better word), and how hard it is to communicate. Actually, writing on line at this second is the best way for me to talk to people, until I get to the Stephen Hawking level ( and yes, I know, he has ALS) (more parenthesis - Susannah Callahan's great book Brain on Fire posits that neurological diseases affecting the brain are all the same disease, just at different levels like bipolar then MS and further up the scale ALS).
This book:
Tomorrow, I'll see a urologist, my physical therapist, and my psychiatrist. Everyone tries to help curb the slip slide, but in the end, it's always a solitary trip with helpers waving bye-bye. So go make your favorite sandwich, watch an old movie, or go outside if the temperature where you are is higher that the seven degrees it is here. Hug someone or yourself, even. Good job.
Coming soon: Maurice Raynaud's Phenomenon.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
The New Neighbors
We've lived in our house for over 25 years. It's a one floor townhouse with two bedrooms, one bath, attached garage. You are probably no more than a half hour drive from finding something like it. These planned housing areas, with curvy roads and walking paths through the trees, began around the Capital Region area near Albany some three decades back. Oddly, the more jobs there are in the Albany area, the more Saratoga County (where we live) has had to build and build, add hotels to store the people who haven't bought their house yet, and build more.
Except in our development. The Luther Forest homes were done by the early nineties. It's now become the spot where young families start, and elderly folks can sit and finally watch some quality TV.
As my wife and I are slowly move into the second category, some observations on suburban life, especially with New Neighbors just finishing taking everything out of the truck and settling into the house we're attached to.
1. In the past 25 years, we've had young military families who have some connection to the local atomic labs. The guys are always the rock hard buzz cut types who wouldn't let you help with a shovelful of snow even if National Security depended on it. The wives are usually quiet, and holding a baby. These folks usually last about six months, then are reassigned.
2. Then we had the rock drummer. He and his lady fair seemed to exist on manna that trickled down from somewhere. He was kind enough tell us that he practiced at odd hours, like 2 AM. We just needed to bang on the wall, and he'd stop. This must be something he was used to telling neighbors. They disappeared in their Volkswagen one morning.
3. Then the senior citizen. Her daughter stopped by daily to help out her Mom, and we were just "wavers". No conversation, just a "hi", as we headed for our car or the mailbox. Then came the Christmas snowstorm on Dec 25 2002. The daughter had another obligation, and could not be with her mother on Xmas. The daughter asked if her Mom could spend the day with us. My wife's mom was already there, so why not make it a foursome? It seemed the Christmas thing to do. And we got through it. Mom disappeared a month or so later to nursing home land.
4. Mom was succeeded by a bevy of independent women who would at least join in the costs of a new roof and driveway as it was, but nothing much else. My wife has been in the neighbor's house twice in 25 years, me, once.
5. Around 2005 or so we had a ice and wind storm that felled a tree in our back yard. These are tall pines about 60-70 feet high so when they fall over, hope you're in a tank, cause it'sa coming down. It did serious damage, but in below zero weather, the cleanup was literally painful. Fortunately, "the guys (that is, neighbor to our left and to our right, and me) did our best to straighten it up. Eventually, the professionals finished up. That was the only time the three house's residents got together to do anything. Ever.
6. Who says good fences don't make good neighbors? The guy on our right asked me if I'd mind if he put up a privacy fence? Nope. Go ahead. He has been there for ten plus years now, and we've had maybe about three conversations including the one in No. 5. He has a dog that does not appear to age, and from that I get some structure. The guy leaves for work around seven AM, comes back to let the dog out at 9:45 AM, lunch at 11:45, and home at 4:30. Every day. I know the sound of the truck going out and coming back. Which means I need another hobby.
In a house we first thought was "temporary" we've lived here more than a quarter century, and as my condition worsens, it means no stairs and easy access to my stuff. Quiet days. Peaceful nights. So we stay.
I think the "Neighborhood" idea never took off around here because there are no kids within a five house radius and has not been for years Kids interacting with other kids bring parents into the mix with school talk and parental issues. Even when the military families lived next door, they kept their kids away from whoever was around.
One thing I do wonder, now that Jackie and I are retired and the New Neighbors (names forgotten already but there is a dog) are settled is how long until they ask the question: "Are you OK?" followed by the classic"You don't look sick."
Hey, you never know. But they'll be wavers eventually, and eventually, disappear. Luther Forest used to be the crown jewel in Malta. With the new factories pumping out something, and people coming from the Far East to live and work here, the Forest has become the backwater place. Potholes, repairs slower, already two Chinese restaurants and its a good bet that when we go to the Supermarket, one third of our fellow shoppers are not speaking English. But this is Malta.
We'll still be here in 2015. I hope you have a great year, too. Thanks for reading. 10,000 plus.
Except in our development. The Luther Forest homes were done by the early nineties. It's now become the spot where young families start, and elderly folks can sit and finally watch some quality TV.
As my wife and I are slowly move into the second category, some observations on suburban life, especially with New Neighbors just finishing taking everything out of the truck and settling into the house we're attached to.
1. In the past 25 years, we've had young military families who have some connection to the local atomic labs. The guys are always the rock hard buzz cut types who wouldn't let you help with a shovelful of snow even if National Security depended on it. The wives are usually quiet, and holding a baby. These folks usually last about six months, then are reassigned.
2. Then we had the rock drummer. He and his lady fair seemed to exist on manna that trickled down from somewhere. He was kind enough tell us that he practiced at odd hours, like 2 AM. We just needed to bang on the wall, and he'd stop. This must be something he was used to telling neighbors. They disappeared in their Volkswagen one morning.
3. Then the senior citizen. Her daughter stopped by daily to help out her Mom, and we were just "wavers". No conversation, just a "hi", as we headed for our car or the mailbox. Then came the Christmas snowstorm on Dec 25 2002. The daughter had another obligation, and could not be with her mother on Xmas. The daughter asked if her Mom could spend the day with us. My wife's mom was already there, so why not make it a foursome? It seemed the Christmas thing to do. And we got through it. Mom disappeared a month or so later to nursing home land.
4. Mom was succeeded by a bevy of independent women who would at least join in the costs of a new roof and driveway as it was, but nothing much else. My wife has been in the neighbor's house twice in 25 years, me, once.
5. Around 2005 or so we had a ice and wind storm that felled a tree in our back yard. These are tall pines about 60-70 feet high so when they fall over, hope you're in a tank, cause it'sa coming down. It did serious damage, but in below zero weather, the cleanup was literally painful. Fortunately, "the guys (that is, neighbor to our left and to our right, and me) did our best to straighten it up. Eventually, the professionals finished up. That was the only time the three house's residents got together to do anything. Ever.
6. Who says good fences don't make good neighbors? The guy on our right asked me if I'd mind if he put up a privacy fence? Nope. Go ahead. He has been there for ten plus years now, and we've had maybe about three conversations including the one in No. 5. He has a dog that does not appear to age, and from that I get some structure. The guy leaves for work around seven AM, comes back to let the dog out at 9:45 AM, lunch at 11:45, and home at 4:30. Every day. I know the sound of the truck going out and coming back. Which means I need another hobby.
In a house we first thought was "temporary" we've lived here more than a quarter century, and as my condition worsens, it means no stairs and easy access to my stuff. Quiet days. Peaceful nights. So we stay.
I think the "Neighborhood" idea never took off around here because there are no kids within a five house radius and has not been for years Kids interacting with other kids bring parents into the mix with school talk and parental issues. Even when the military families lived next door, they kept their kids away from whoever was around.
One thing I do wonder, now that Jackie and I are retired and the New Neighbors (names forgotten already but there is a dog) are settled is how long until they ask the question: "Are you OK?" followed by the classic"You don't look sick."
Hey, you never know. But they'll be wavers eventually, and eventually, disappear. Luther Forest used to be the crown jewel in Malta. With the new factories pumping out something, and people coming from the Far East to live and work here, the Forest has become the backwater place. Potholes, repairs slower, already two Chinese restaurants and its a good bet that when we go to the Supermarket, one third of our fellow shoppers are not speaking English. But this is Malta.
We'll still be here in 2015. I hope you have a great year, too. Thanks for reading. 10,000 plus.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
An MS'er goes back to Disney World 2014
An MSer goes to Disney World.
Things you learn:
- No matter how slow you think you are moving WDW, there is always someone slower, and normally they are right in front of you, no matter where you are. Sometimes, they are obese (and carrying more food), sometimes they are listening deeply to the words of another (who is slow also) or they are moving as pack,normally age 18 - 25 young males and females, and they are trolling everything on the Web (their index fingers going flick, flick, flick) until they have an OMG moment and stop to tell the rest of the pack the news.
- People in rented scooters are, for the most part, trying to maneuver about the Parks as best they can. Others seem to get some thrill ramming into your back legs (because they see you as “slow”) and will not stop until you move aside. This is why there is so much searching at the entrance to the Disney Parks. We have to bring stuff, and the Parks want to make sure that we who have to bring stuff to Parks don’t bring Tasers to make the place the Happiest One on Earth by removing Loud Talkers, Whining/Screaming Children, and the Walk and Sudden Stoppers (see No. 1) from ruining other people’s days.
- Speaking of scooters, my wife and I have decided that next year, barring a cure, of course, that I’ll have to start driving a scooter when we next visit WDW. We stay at a Disney resort and I would use it there just to get around the area. I can plop down in the Parks plenty of places, but the resorts? Nope. Get on the busses! Buy stuff! If you are sitting, and not eating what we have, you are wasting our time!
- We will gladly take your picture at a lovely site, and you can download it for a low low price of about 20 bucks a pop, and you can also download it for four
weeks and then its gone. They give you the best shot, and you are then stuck with a lousy shot on your own or pay the 20 bucks. Not always, but enough to add to a stress level. And you can only get these pictures for a month after the camera clicked by the Disney pros. - And all through this, my exhaustion and leg pain continues unabated. “Having a good time?” “Yep!” “Good. Relaxing and having fun?” “I haven’t relaxed since 2008.”
- For me, “Its a small world” is a challenging ride. All those eyes blinking, and the international dolls being placed in motion by sticks in their butts, and the damned song. Just the stupid song. Move to the next number down or “Small World” will be stuck in your head, too. You have been warned!
- Please add to the list of People I Want To Taser as being anyone who walks around the beauty of the Parks, and there is great beauty, attached to a phone in their ear and move quickly (to you, sometimes a sloth moves quickly) and she does not see you because busy people talking on their cell look down at the ground as they walk, and are stunned to see you suddenly in front of them. It is your fault. Then they move on with a sigh and a “What? Sorry. What was that? No, some old guy, looking at my butt. Ha-ha.”
- At the end of the Mickey’s very merry party (with free 8 ounce hot chocolate and two sugar cookies per guest) the parade of Disney characters went up Main Street, once around the rotary and then went back to cartoon oblivion behind a door near the giant toy train that circles the Magic Kingdom. Walt liked trains. There’s no real catch here except that the departure of the characters meant Disney, Inc. would like you, the customer who just paid a separate admission and received two cookies and 8 ounces of hot chocolate in return and told to move into a two foot wide area of the Main Street closest to the road. See, I fall over a bit, and being moved around by the “Helpers”, didn’t help matters. Finally, someone was kind enough to reduce the size of their baby stroller from warehouse to SUV size and I could watch the cartoon spectacle, as long as I kept 80% of my sneaker behind the line. The human version of the Frozen group just smiled and waved.
- This is usually where I can get really annoyed about disease, Congress, or something, but I’d like to leave Disney (and 2014) with this picture. I turned around at the last minute and took this shot. I am not sure that the future (or the MS version of it) may allow me many more trips down to Orlando or a lot of other. So I may not see this again. All that kept going through my mind was President Obama (no politics, please) at his 2nd inaugural when he was leaving the stand stopped and turned around, seeing the day, and the dignitaries, and the crowd cheering. “I’ll never see this again,” he said. Live each moment. Be present here. As much as you can. And to requote the great Warren Zevon “Enjoy every sandwich”.Happy Holidays!
Friday, November 14, 2014
Four More Years!
I observe today the completion of the first four year term of being elected to the Multiple Sclerosis world. Thank you, doctors whose names I have forgotten, for telling me you were clueless about what to do for me. I was at least glad I had an exit strategy, and that was out your front door. So now I sit before you, fellow MSers, (I was standing before you for a while, but I'm in my comfy chair now) and I ask for your continued support for the next four years. Here is what I promise:
1. I will stand for everything, until I get tired and have to sit.
2. I will take large amount of drugs, none of which are good for MS, but I have also been blessed with bipolar, and that's where the drugs come in. Yes! Yes! Yes! I can be functional for almost two hours a day. I just don't know which two hours it will be.
3. I shall not be swayed by Dr. Pharma's (Big Drug Pharmaceutical Companies) throwing lavish dinners to get me to attend so they can figure out what kind of new drugs they can dump on me and begin sucking dry the veins of insurance and co-pays. After all, I have Primary Progressive MS.No help for me. So no money there for the drug vampires PPMS. It's like garlic to them.
4. I forgot what number four was.
5. I promise to dance, write, see as much of the world as I can with my dear wife, and continue to annoy this disease as much as it annoys me.
1. I will stand for everything, until I get tired and have to sit.
2. I will take large amount of drugs, none of which are good for MS, but I have also been blessed with bipolar, and that's where the drugs come in. Yes! Yes! Yes! I can be functional for almost two hours a day. I just don't know which two hours it will be.
3. I shall not be swayed by Dr. Pharma's (Big Drug Pharmaceutical Companies) throwing lavish dinners to get me to attend so they can figure out what kind of new drugs they can dump on me and begin sucking dry the veins of insurance and co-pays. After all, I have Primary Progressive MS.No help for me. So no money there for the drug vampires PPMS. It's like garlic to them.
4. I forgot what number four was.
5. I promise to dance, write, see as much of the world as I can with my dear wife, and continue to annoy this disease as much as it annoys me.
And so my fellow MSers, ask not what your MS has done to you, ask how you can screw over your MS. Thank you.
Four More Years! Four More Years! (Join in anytime - you deserve it too)
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
How to give a Presentation .... Cue the Meltdown
Hi.
Last Thursday was a bit of a breakthrough day as I would be giving a talk about the book I am writing. This had been scheduled earlier this year at the Herman Melville House in Troy, NY (actually Lansingburgh - I still maintained that Troy is occupying the village where I grew up and has been for the past 124 years, but someday we shall throw off the shackles) and I'd worked damn hard with teaching notes, visual presentations, and my decent communication skills to make a 1 hour talk about Herman Melville, and his association with Lansingburgh, Presidents Chester Arthur and Theodore Roosevelt, and murders and conspiracies, that is, a halfway decent novel.
Herman Chester Theodore
My wife and I arrived a little later than planned (thanks to my shortcut) and the room was filling up with interested folks, most of which I (gratefully) knew. So after some hellos and hugs, I set upon setting up my Mac with the projector provided by the sponsors, but after some minutes of attaching A to B, it became apparent that it was not going to work, much to the consternation of the org's President who finally threw his hands up and said "It's a Mac. I don't know what to do." The part that made me go Hmmm was that I had sat in the audience here two weeks previous when another speaker used a Mac with no problem. Sabotage? my bipolar mind asked. Did he not like me? What was going on? Making me look bad deliberately?
At this point, the MS leader, Captain Fatigue, stepped into the center ring, and announced the reason it was not working was because I was tired, very tired. I had been putting in hours on this presentation more from my days at my old job. I knew, of course, that I was dog tired. Even driving to the site in Lansingburgh using a "shortcut" which seemed to my wife as completely out of the way, I was telling myself to just get through it. Get through it.
I would have to talk it through. Fortunately I had a lot of support from friends in the 30 seat room and I stumbled my way through looking at now useless notes and the dragging info from my lesioned brain before Captain Fatigue and Sergeant Bipolar could hide the stories in a brain file labeled Great Kale I Have Eaten.
So I made it. And since that night I'm still slowly recouping energy. I've started a writing class (three hours Tuesday night for eight weeks) and I need to write stories while continuing the Herman tales.
I hear about marketing and appearances and signings, and I've talked with writers who do a lot of it. Before I get serious on any of those subjects I need to finish the story. But hyping will be a tough road because the energy that I admire in other authors as they succeed in this area is just not there for me. Local? Sure. Big time? Probably not. I will not get better.
Pace myself. Isn't it odd that pace in Latin is peace? I enjoyed the talk despite the problems and the positive reinforcement never hurts. Believers can lift you up. Now I have to make sure I keep up with it. I will start when I open my eyes tomorrow. Maybe.
Thanks for the 10000 views. I'm going to move back and forth between this blog and one on writing.
Writing the 1,391st Greatest American Novel in a decade or less! Please take a look should you wish, and my thanks for your support.
And Herman Melville and President Martin Van Buren thank you too...
Last Thursday was a bit of a breakthrough day as I would be giving a talk about the book I am writing. This had been scheduled earlier this year at the Herman Melville House in Troy, NY (actually Lansingburgh - I still maintained that Troy is occupying the village where I grew up and has been for the past 124 years, but someday we shall throw off the shackles) and I'd worked damn hard with teaching notes, visual presentations, and my decent communication skills to make a 1 hour talk about Herman Melville, and his association with Lansingburgh, Presidents Chester Arthur and Theodore Roosevelt, and murders and conspiracies, that is, a halfway decent novel.
Herman Chester Theodore
My wife and I arrived a little later than planned (thanks to my shortcut) and the room was filling up with interested folks, most of which I (gratefully) knew. So after some hellos and hugs, I set upon setting up my Mac with the projector provided by the sponsors, but after some minutes of attaching A to B, it became apparent that it was not going to work, much to the consternation of the org's President who finally threw his hands up and said "It's a Mac. I don't know what to do." The part that made me go Hmmm was that I had sat in the audience here two weeks previous when another speaker used a Mac with no problem. Sabotage? my bipolar mind asked. Did he not like me? What was going on? Making me look bad deliberately?
At this point, the MS leader, Captain Fatigue, stepped into the center ring, and announced the reason it was not working was because I was tired, very tired. I had been putting in hours on this presentation more from my days at my old job. I knew, of course, that I was dog tired. Even driving to the site in Lansingburgh using a "shortcut" which seemed to my wife as completely out of the way, I was telling myself to just get through it. Get through it.
I would have to talk it through. Fortunately I had a lot of support from friends in the 30 seat room and I stumbled my way through looking at now useless notes and the dragging info from my lesioned brain before Captain Fatigue and Sergeant Bipolar could hide the stories in a brain file labeled Great Kale I Have Eaten.
So I made it. And since that night I'm still slowly recouping energy. I've started a writing class (three hours Tuesday night for eight weeks) and I need to write stories while continuing the Herman tales.
I hear about marketing and appearances and signings, and I've talked with writers who do a lot of it. Before I get serious on any of those subjects I need to finish the story. But hyping will be a tough road because the energy that I admire in other authors as they succeed in this area is just not there for me. Local? Sure. Big time? Probably not. I will not get better.
Pace myself. Isn't it odd that pace in Latin is peace? I enjoyed the talk despite the problems and the positive reinforcement never hurts. Believers can lift you up. Now I have to make sure I keep up with it. I will start when I open my eyes tomorrow. Maybe.
Thanks for the 10000 views. I'm going to move back and forth between this blog and one on writing.
Writing the 1,391st Greatest American Novel in a decade or less! Please take a look should you wish, and my thanks for your support.
And Herman Melville and President Martin Van Buren thank you too...
Monday, October 13, 2014
That's it. I've turned the TV off. Goodbye 21st Century.
Four minutes ago I turned off my TV and bid farewell to "Gotham", the Fox Network's take on the early days of Jim Gordon, ace detective and eventual Commissioner of Gotham City's Police Department, and partner with Batman on the perpetual crime spree going on in that fictional city, which is just down the road from Metropolis, and a hop, skip and a jump from Starling City (Arrow) and whatever place the Flash is from.
One problem for me is that we've got like a 10 year wait before The Bat shows up. Bruce Wayne is about 12 years old. He appears like a smart kid, but he's still getting over the murder of his parents by person or persons unknown. Yes, he lives in Wayne Manor with Alfred the Butler.
See, the problem is also, I'm 58 years old. Now I've seen every Batman movie, and only 2 make the cut for me and they are both the Joker films. Even they make me a little squeamish. I've got both films on DVD and I've never watched them.
When you're a kid of the 1960s...This is Batman....
I can not help but notice that we are over 10000 visits. Thank you.
Right now I will join my wife and watch funny shows. I hope they are.
One problem for me is that we've got like a 10 year wait before The Bat shows up. Bruce Wayne is about 12 years old. He appears like a smart kid, but he's still getting over the murder of his parents by person or persons unknown. Yes, he lives in Wayne Manor with Alfred the Butler.
See, the problem is also, I'm 58 years old. Now I've seen every Batman movie, and only 2 make the cut for me and they are both the Joker films. Even they make me a little squeamish. I've got both films on DVD and I've never watched them.
When you're a kid of the 1960s...This is Batman....
and Robin, of course. And the comic books, any of them before 1970. Yes, I am old, as noted. I also repeat myself. I have brain lesions. And I am tired of seeing people killed off in unique ways with no fuss (tonight on Gotham, a city councilman and his aide were killed by having a dart shot through their eyes, and another councilman [the last one I saw anyway] was stuffed into a trash can, doused with gasoline and lit up like a torch). Now that's entertainment.
Look if I want that kind of fun, I can watch ISIS videos.
Which brings me to The Walking Dead. For four years I saw every episode, it was must Sunday night watching (or Monday morning watching with coffee, cookies, and my wife off to her job). I would settle in and watch this:
And then watch everyone who was still alive run away, or, if that wasn't an option, watch Sheriff Rick and the gang stab, crush, hammer, burn and everything else to what was stumbling around the countryside just looking to feed on human flesh. Yum.
Until I noticed last season that I started to be more interested in the how than the what. How did they make that zombie do that? How did they work that cave in? I became far more interested in that then the story, which is just, well, silly. Maybe I'm just in a phase with my little bit of energy that I need to place it somewhere...like the major presentation I've got coming on Thursday.
More on that later, but for right now I'd like to have The (baby) Penguin meet the Governor in a pit that's surrounded by zombies and say, OK boys, lemme know who wins and turn the set off. You can send an e-mail.
I can not help but notice that we are over 10000 visits. Thank you.
Right now I will join my wife and watch funny shows. I hope they are.
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