Communication Breakdowns | johnozed

Not a good day at all. In fact it basically started last night. Bill was on his way home and I made plans to meet him at the Path train. I also had tentative plans to see a friend do an acoustic set here in Hoboken and when I asked another friend if they were going, they said no. So I didn’t feel like going by myself plus this friend told me that lately all these people doing short acoustic sets around town have been playing some really depressing songs. I didn’t want to hear that so I just killed time at home.

My niece and I texted about going down the shore today and her itinerary involved being on the beach between 9 and 10 this morning. That meant I would have to get up early, catch a train with a beach chair and an umbrella and be out in Bergen County by 7:30. I wasn’t into it and told her that it was too early for me, but to have a good time. With that being taken care of I put it out of my mind and practiced my guitar a bit before heading out to the Path station.

It was a beautiful night with a beautiful moon and I enjoyed a cigar taking some lunar snapshots as I walked towards the Path train. Of course I was early and sat on a bench by the station steps and just waited with a few other folk. A couple of trains deposited people and eventually Bill made his appearance. I walked over and gave him a kiss and a hug and we walked along River Street towards home. Bill was full of details about his trip. This cousin, that aunt, his uncle, their kid, which of course was to be expected.

And also every little detail about the flight, the seat he sat in as well as the train trip and the near dilemma he had with his ticket on his smartphone which was rapidly losing power. When I heard him about to go off on a tangent I did my best to steer the conversation back to where it should be going rather than a discussion on the most minute details. Of course I had things to say but I wasn’t going to have my chance to say them, at least not while walking down the street.

After all my day was almost comical with the key dilemma. I got my chance to tell Bill about my day as we were walking through the apartment door. The GOP convention was on and that was stressing me out somewhat and I was curious to find out what happened when Clint Eastwood took the podium. We came home and Willard Romney was making his speech with quite an unenthusiastic audience. I knew I could find the Eastwood story online so that was no big deal.

Bill had settled in as we watched and we were both glad it was over since we wanted to watch the 11:00 news. Then came the Facebook messages. A message about why wasn’t I going to the beach with my niece and her husband. My answer was not satisfactory and the pressure was on. I explained that it was too early and read that there was no such thing as being too early. At 11:45 I was too stressed and took a Xanax since I knew if I didn’t I would more than likely be dwelling on the fact that I wasn’t going down the shore even though I had reconciled myself to the fact that I wasn’t going hours earlier.

Bill went to bed and all I had was a bad feeling and the Xanax was not working fast enough. It did kick in and soon I was fast asleep in bed. I barely remember Bill saying goodbye as he went to work this morning and as bad as I felt last night, I felt even worse this morning. The depression has lasted all day. Not because I wasn’t going down the shore, but the undue pressure that was applied to me last night. I know they meant well, but I was resigned to the fact that I was not going and the attempt of being pressured into it was not helping.

Chaz came by once again this morning with a bagel and more photos to scan. I decided to put them under his Facebook page rather than mine since they are his pictures and I’m not in most of them. It was the smart thing to do. I can’t say I was good company though and Chaz headed out about 90 minutes later. I ate my bagel and headed out to go busking. And busking was a bust. I was not into it at all, not feeling very outgoing and more than likely scowling as I strummed. After about 45 minutes I was done and headed back home.

I didn’t want to have anything to do with people at all, and that included Facebook which I am not on today. No pics, no posts, no sharing of memes and photos and whatever. And now that I am done with this entry, I am done for the day. No plans until tomorrow and that is more than fine with me. The ringer on my phone is off so if anyone calls me, I won’t hear it. I just want to be left alone and have this day put to rest as soon as possible.

Oh I should eat but it seems I am too busy feeding the trolls on YouTube. So proud they are stuffing their faces with greasy chicken all in the name of free speech. Yes the CEO of that chicken joint is against same sex marriage. Big whoop. He’s entitled to that. And he is also entitled to donating money to anti LGBT groups like Exodus.

For those playing at home, Exodus is a quasi-religious organization that claims to heal lesbians and gay men from their sexuality. They don’t come through the process as heterosexual, they come out in a deeper closet, repressing their sexuality and sometimes marrying a person of the opposite sex who is also deeply closeted and equally repressed.

And it is not just here that Exodus does their foul underhanded deeds. Exodus big wigs have been travelling to Uganda and giving speeches to leaders there. A lot of African countries are virulently anti-gay, and having these ‘esteemed United States representatives’ telling them how gays can be cured, inflame the beliefs of these leaders when the methods of Exodus (including hitting a pillow with a tennis racquet and screaming ‘Daddy didn’t love me.’ FOR REAL) don’t work, these leaders feel that they should kill all the gays.

In various African legislatures and parliaments, Kill the Gays bills have gone up and almost part of these countries constitutions. Lesbians have been repeatedly raped in order to ‘get the gay out of them’. Gay men have been maimed and killed. Lives have to be lived in secret. This is what the main sticking point against the chicken master is about. And a good many people in this country (though the numbers get reduced every time someone comes out of the closet) want LGBT to go back and stay in the closet.

It’s not too far a guess to assume that these same people would like people of color to go back to the back of the bus. And that is a troubling statement since some people of color despise LGBT more than non-people of color. Some people of color seem to think that civil rights only pertain to them. Same sex marriage is a civil matter, therefore a civil rights issue. It has nothing to do with bullshit religion. Marriage is a civil right. The great leader Martin Luther King’s widow, Coretta Scott King came out for same sex rights and that offended a good number of congregates in those churches.

I bet if Malcolm X were alive he would be standing alongside LGBT standing for their rights. Even the latest Prime Minister of Jamaica (notoriously homophobic country) has been making inroads regarding same sex rights. It’s a long process, a long road ahead. We go over one hill and see many more hills ahead that we all have to climb.

It takes a lot I suppose to step out of one’s shoes and step into another’s. See how that other person sees things, experience what they go through. It’s not easy to do and I try to do myself but occasionally I react badly. Then hopefully I regain some sense of composure and remember to do step into those shoes. It’s unfortunate that some people can’t even conceive of someone else’s shoes.

I’m heading out to hear Mumford and Sons. Enough of these trolls.

32 I’m Your Boogie Man