A Friday Farewell

That morning she hurriedly drove from home to the court house. In actuality, she has long since driven away from home. The place was just where she kept her things. It is just a place for her kids to call home. To her, it remains four walls and a roof.

The drive to the courthouse is straight down Lincoln Avenue. He is expecting her there on time. He was always expecting of her, but she never gave him reasons not to otherwise. Her complacency is fuel for her furnace.

He chose their house on Twenty-Second street. It was ideal for his legal business. Her husband, now mainly in title, works for hire from various law firms and practices. Falling under the legal services heading, what he really does falls into a more shady line if work. He investigates information which wishes to remain hidden or lost. He forged a name for himself using the leftover money her father had endowed to him. Dropping out of college, where the majority of that money went, this man, her husband, went on using that cunning and charm to win over veteran attorneys and law firms alike. He chummed up with police officers, court clerks, reporters, and anyone who could supply him with information. It was that same cunning and charm that won over her father. It was his smile, his pecs, and yes that same cunning and charm that won her over. From the beginning, he made decisions for the both of them. On her father's deathbed, he vowed he would. So now, she is again expected to follow his lead. Expected to follow, without question, without objection, without choice.

Being a legal investigator is dangerous work, especially when you work the shady under-dealings and the dark underbelly of the filthy rich and the filthy poor. It's the same thing he always says. Secrets are secrets. The rich just have a loquacious way of deceiving people into thinking they are better than everyone else. He was and is so bright. It's blinding after so many years of exposure. She could hardly see for herself; she sees the world filtered through his speckled hazel eyes. She's lost in the shadow of his ego.

Their house was vandalized once. Some hoodlums spray painted "Careful what you look for, you might get it!" Of course, a local crime boss was behind it. At least, her husband did foil their conspiracy. There were worst plots against them, including the planned kidnapping of their then five year old daughter. How they survived was a miracle, but did they really survive? He lived, and she lived, and their daughter Annabelle lived, but she has since drifted. Ani, poor Ani. She admires him. They all do. Only she knows that you can only look in the dark so long before it consumes you.

Now he expects her to deliver the contents of his safe. He's testifying today. Only he would have several safety deposit boxes to his name, and some under hers. Paranoid. When did his paranoia start? It could have always been there, but the day he found a watch-bomb attached under his driver seat might have made him more cautious. Security tripled. She now has to switch cars twice a week and change outfits twice a day and call to check in twice every hour. He expects and she follows.

It's 8:24 AM, she steps on the pedal running a red light. No one follows. Of course not, who would? She looks in the rearview, and Ani smiles back at her. She's growing up too fast - almost a woman now, anytime. Of course she carried extra clothing in her bag, just in case. Just like her father. Ani has the inclination towards the reckless. Poor Ani. Will Ani ever forgive her? Will Ani understand?

She pulls up to the courthouse with time to spare.
"Remember, find your Dad and Uncle Chief Murdock, they'll be inside just right after the metal detectors."

"Gotcha mom, I remember."

"Good. And Ani... I love you. Take real good care of yourself." Poor poor Ani, she thought as she watched her daughter walk towards the court house.

In a safety deposit box under Annabelle James-Murdock, there is a letter. In it is an apology and a secret confession. It reads an acknowledgement of guilt and of inadequacy. When Ani reaches of age, she will be able to access this box. Will Ani be fit to handle such a enormous secret and responsibility? Will Ani forgive her leaving?

It's Friday morning. At the intersection, the lights turn green. She doesn't look back. She only whispers a feign farewell.


-- Post From My iPhone

Tiny Tuesday Rants

It must be hard for China’s Communist Party police to crackdown on crime. What with every criminal lying about committing a crime to get out of torture? No, let’s blindfold them and toss their kind in with the rest of their ilk to sort it out. I mean the truth comes out eventually right? You just got to beat it out. [Read Sarcasm] Ha!


So you’re jealous that President Obama’s cool, and plus he’s more popular then you will ever be? Well, we already knew that though didn’t we? “I say it’s too late to apologiiiize. No, it’s too late to apologiiiize. Yeah…”


Yes, 165 million in bonuses is not that large an amount comparably. We just get so worked up over smalls amount of moneys. Silly. Silly. I mean it’s so small, I wouldn’t be able to settle my divorce with that amount of money.

No hang over blog. I woke up and worked out a bit. Nice right?

So what is this rant about? It didn’t make it to my LIFE.LOVE.LAUGHTER blog, so its going to about the house we build with cards.

I have, perhaps had, this friend since high school. I say perhaps had, because it might have ended today. I’m not in the business of burning bridges. What I do do is try my damndest best to build a house, but I can only build it with the cards I have been dealt. Today my house collapsed. It happens regularly enough, but I know I can only move forward and rebuild. Except, perhaps maybe, a card was removed from the deck. It doesn’t matter who removed it or even if it is removed, because maybe maybe some bridges can’t be burnt no matter the amount of fuel you toss on the fire. Then again, I might have lost a friend today.

Today my house collapsed. I had a part to play and I refused to play it. Why run to me, put all this pressure build it up as a mountain and an obstacle for me to climb? I just want to look her in the eyes and tell her that I’m not her salvation that I’m just no good and that I could hardly save myself. I know it would be a lie to say it and mean it, because it is completely meaningless. All that would do is destroy the foundations, and the house will never be built proper again. I wouldn’t mean it mean it if I said it. I’d only do it to hurt her, because I was hurting. The damage is done. It was done years ago, and it is so engrained to not attempt to save them all is defeat worst than death. It is better to die trying. Maybe, if I hold out long enough and keep bluffing, fate would fold, and than maybe I would come out on top with the winning hand.

There’s a movie I’m fond of. It’s not my favorite, but it is near the top. It’s called Tequila Sunrise (1988). In it, two high school friends match wits like cat and mouse but more like cops and drug dealers. Society, personal choices, and fate all force them apart, but they held on to a bond that is summed up in one off-screen monologue.

“I don't know what it is about going to high school with someone that makes you feel you're automatically friends for life. Who says? Who says friendship lasts forever? We'd all like it to, maybe. But maybe [pause] it just wears out like everything else - like tires. There's just so much mileage in them and then you're riding around on nothing but air.”

This monologue was the set up to see whether a friendship could whether all storms. In the movie, in true Hollywood fashion, the friendship survived because real friendship meant having the other person’s interest at heart. It was not about making millions together, it wasn’t about collaring the crook and being a hero, it was about sacrificing something so that your friend could find happiness. Of course that’s Hollywood.

It makes you wonder about the push and pull of a relationship like a friendship. Do you except it blindly or do you keep rationalizing or do you keep bickering attempting to change and alter one another? Do we entrench ourselves and do battle over the long haul or do we just let it end?

I have to build my house again. You’d think I’d be smarter and use some material less of a gamble than cards. You’d think.

One of those days.

It’s been too long since I have griped about anything. (Not for lack of sources to gripe about, but more because there were some big problems to deal with in the world.) Now, I’m back at it to tell it like it is. As I am writing this, I have three items in an online shopping cart waiting for checkout. The items are running shorts, a long sleeve mesh tee, and a short sleeve mesh tee. I’m tempted to click the checkout button, especially since I received a 20% off promo code. Tempted.

My day started with those thoughts again, and in order to salve my mental health I took one of those mental health days you so often hear about. I thought of phoning a friend, and I did, but the static was unbearable. It was like talking to a robotic alien race from the other side of the galaxy. It wasn’t meant to be. This would be one of those obstacles to triumph over in quiet reprieve.

Undercover, I meditated thinking how wonderful the stars were even during the day. Afterwards, it was necessary to douse my flaming head with cool water. In the mirror, my reflection looked back at me in disdain. I need to improve.

There is a constant undercurrent that has tremendous force but because it is out of sight it is out of mind. You and I, and everyone in our modern age are being sold. The world of advertising is nothing new, but knowing it does not keep us afloat. That undercurrent is powerful enough to pull us under. It drowns us. Just by mere fact that we are constantly being sold that the better life is out there implies that the life we live now is inadequate. In short, we need to improve. Swim or die.

Yes, rationally the logic does not add up, but we humans are less rational then we would have ourselves believe. We live in a world where emotional social intelligence (ESI) exists. A 1995 article by Nancy Gibbs reported on the earlier understandings of ESI here. Recently, I have been listening and learning from Daniel Goleman’s “Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships”. I have it on audio. Anyway, the concept is that emotions are viral. They are transmitted almost instantaneously. If you’re in a room with a joyous happy person, your own feelings begin to elevate. You can also check out this link for more info so go learn something.


My gripe is that businesses intentionally prey on this emotional undercurrent. It becomes a sales mechanism to big business. An article written by Temple Porter outlines tips for business leaders when considering hooking customers. Click here for the article.

On my mental health day, I go out at try to interact as little as possible with my surroundings. I do this hoping that I do not project my anxieties on to others, but I do go out and about to absorb from my surroundings almost like medicine. I window shop, and go to the bookstores, and check out the athletics store, and while I do, I realize I’m being sucked under. Constantly there are thoughts of: I need to work more, I need to do better, I need to make a change, I need to pick up a language, I should read more, I’d look good in that, and my personal fav I need to run more. There is enormous emotional pressure to buy away our anxieties. But we can’t. One, everybody’s broke and money’s tight. Two, you can never fill that vacuum, even if you have all the money in the world.

The medicine was truly in the social connection. I scheduled a hair appointment with my stylist. He’s my high school buddy, and he has a way have making light the heavy. It was strange how some of my friends found our way there, and we were all having one of those tough days. Call it fate or destiny, but it was definitely one of those right place at the right time kind of deal. We laughed, shared, commiserated, and absorbed. I felt better relatively despite having eaten little all day.

Coming home though is a different story. Now I’m in front of this laptop again ranting. Just so damn tempting, do I buy the running gear?