the jury is in

It’s hit and giggle.  That’s what a couple of us said when we were in our early 20s playing pool.  At least we thought we knew how to play pool.  We’d line up the cue ball very seriously and take focused aim and often the shot would not work out and the balls would scatter randomly.  We might have just as well ‘hit and giggled.’  So by a margin of 3 (to zero), the feedback from last week’s post was that this blog works without a theme (at least for three).

And that suits the writer.  If you take aim, you’d better be consistently hitting your target, somewhere.  If it’s a random shot, you’ll be forgiven because it becomes obvious that you are anyhow a hit and giggle kind of aimer.

Which doesn’t mean that one still shouldn’t take aim.  But it can be (and often is) a more relaxed aim, and, in random directions.  I’m not playing serious eight ball.  I’m just hitting, or trying to hit, any random ball if interest.  And then I’ll hit and giggle.

I only wish I had more to giggle about.  The bottom of my left jaw is throbbing.  There is something wrong. That damn radiation made a mess of my neck and mouth area.  The cancer never felt this bad.  It’s a hell of a price to pay.  I’d like to be pissed at the doctors who butchered the area, but I bought into it without enough questioning the consequences.  It almost feels like they aimed, then hit and giggled.  The radiation scattered, creating a mess.

may 26, 2012 in the Palisades Park, NJ during a casual ride, just north of the GW Bridge

But I can’t be complaining. That will get me nowhere.  What’s done is done.  I’ve got to learn when to hit and when to giggle.  Sometimes they are simultaneous.  Sometimes not.

I’d better be content that I’ve been able to spend a casual day yesterday riding my cruiser over to the N.J. side of the GW Bridge to the Palisades Park where I was able to start this post and enjoy coffee and newspaper reading while overlooking the Hudson River through the thickness of trees.

Point is, we all need to find ways to keep hitting, and then perhaps giggle a little (more).  And for the two who responded via comments to this blog, thank you.  And thanks to the person who wrote me a separate email.  The randomness will continue and thanks to you, I don’t need to wrap my head around a story.  I’m giggling and I hope you are too.

May 27, 2012 exiting the Palisades Park on the hybrid marin

2 thoughts on “the jury is in

  1. Anonymous

    Fred: a fourth weighs in, albeit somewhat tardy. . . I suggest you not obsess over a shotgun versus rifle and scope. I enjoy the lack of continuity of theme from one week to the next–never knowing the analogies that shall be deftly inserted, the locale from which you write. . . often in far off, exotic places where you clearly enjoy your comfort with food, tradition, the medical ecosystem there. . . whether you will wax poetic, ruminate or share a quick story. For me it’s a fun escape without ever knowing where the author shall transport the reader until I digest your opening comments. The common theme remains one of remarkable stamina, resolve, understanding, and a certain perspective most of us cannot likely emulate if in a similar situation. Naturally, there is also the sense of helplessness in assisting with your journey and the incalculable unknowns. We can watch and respond to your weekly blog musings, but cannot make material contributions to lighten your load which all of us would prefer. Shooting pool is an interesting game. Finesse versus brute strength and ackwardness. . . cushions to contain and transfer energy; geometry at its finest, yet often plagued by high blood alcohols and testosterone titers that turn the game into a less pleasant experience for both cue ball and cue. . . Perhaps we should organize a virtual uber ride to ensure we accomplish what you and Peter had originally planned. . . all participants required to ride remotely and document same or simply draft exquisite fiction about their ride with you and all that was seen and unseen from Capitol to Capital and from comma to exclamation mark. In the meantime, I hope you will again write about good chocolate as well as beer in a garage with friends. Should you–nonetheless–choose a shotgun, pick an elegant over and under, better yet, a matched pair–Purdys perhaps. Should it be a rifle with scope, consider a .50 cal Barrett Arms from middle Tennessee. You’d look good in either tweed/cashmere or camo respectively.

    Wishing you relief from the trauma resultant from the chemo, external beam and brachytherapy.

    Love ya mon, swjr


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