04-18-09 Newly surfaced and therefore rather nebulous, embryonic (and don't laff):
Occurs to my thought-processor that one way to fix all of this would be for us—any combination thereof who will go for this--but the more participation we can join in, I believe that: the less critical we will, would, or should become, according to this thought I'm having, and therefore relieving a lot of the 'heat' going on in everybody's minds, which would no longer be basing themselves upon old news. ¶ Agree to go halvesies, ¼s, or thirds on a house big enough to accommodate each of our needs, both the personal ones and the political ones. (I use the term political as sociologists use it: Applying to all activities that you (we) project outward from within, and not about the other gov't kind. Personal being relating to all the interior discussions going on between you and yourself, &/ or me & myself. ¶ Get Fran and Jerit on the case to try to locate a place down there that will accommodate at least you and me, but with enough space for your office, and a studio/ bunk/ quarters both I, & Jerit, when he comes, could use. My $600 monthly income would barely cover the rent. It really needs some of your, Francine's, &/or Jerit's monthly input to guarantee enough $s left over for us to cover food and utility costs. Then maybe we could really have a shot at smoothing all the lumps and bumps over and out of each of our lives. And then, maybe, if I'm still alive, I can return to my country cabin studio's 250 feet elevation-above-sea-level comforts. I am gritting my coastal-lowlander's (figurative) teeth when I offer to relocate at 1,500 feet above sea level and 100 miles away from salt-water. The nearer I am to sea level, the more comfortable I feel. Believe it or not: I get very nervous with a palpable sensation of being too far out of my element when I am too far away from the ocean and too far up. ¶ I am beginning to feel that I just might be willing to do such an experiment, with an optimistic thrust of patient hope. Say for a year? As a gamble that it will mellow each of us perfectly out to the level playing field that we all still very much deserve to have if we're to continue to keep thinking that we have made it over the hump and past this complication, to feel freer ever after from it, to be ourselves with an easier self-loving kind of life. This is my dream. It's just a dream, I know. Stupid, you say? In a sense. But if the socio-economic and political situations keep disintegrating, our only hope for any sense of a decent and successful survival may only be in the power of our collective efforts; whereas as individuals, we may falter/ become weaker, ultimately losing out on further enjoyment of the prize of our being that we're given at conception, and allowed to breathe in at birth. This is a prize worthy of almost any attempt to hold on to, and if one is fortunate enough as to figure how to venture one's positions correctly and appropriately enough so as not to get punched in the face--figuratively or for true--then one is usually allowed to keep on enjoying one's prize. Who knows but that the prize might respond with other preciousness over time.
Intermingling our prizes' proximities for a season or two or a year, I think, ought to give you—and who knows? maybe me, even—plenty opportunities for to get your (our) points across to where you start wondering how to make this problem go away.
I suggest that we should share a house convenient to mom, so we can then get together more regularly and have confabs. I'd love to see some collaborative type excited agreement on some fun-seeming mutual under-taking(s?) toward our overall continually-improving situation as a result. Fat chance, you say? I disagree. But of course, I've been wrong too often to get too excited and try to thunder you all into a cowering “Yes sir!” in agreement to anything I propose. Yet, the thought tantalizes: What if? What if we all didn't live so awfully far away from each other? And don't say 'get a phone, dad,' 'cause I won't, because: My mind is too fragile in its ability to keep its focus to the depth that it takes me to get things done, or thought out, or thought through, and that darn ring ruins what I am trying to get my thick head through, and general mental clumsinesses past. No phone is a self-protect necessity in my particular and peculiar case. No matter how eminently sensible the many seem to think having a phone is, I'll leave the phone stuff and their bills to you guys, thank you. If I end up having to, I will answer the darn thing and politely inquire as to if there is something I can relay? But you can kiss my brain goodbye if phones ring too often when you or she or he isn't around. At least this is my general urge to warn against trying to use my brain as an answering machine. I believe that its usage is more-appropriately-directed along more Adam-friendlier paths. All I really want to do is lie around a lot and read, write, or observe media some; do some word-processing/ printing; and maybe get to play some music sometimes, and do some sort of woodworking once in a while. A garden space almost has to be a potential in any property we take a year's lease on or rent.
Well, I think that I've ventured the proverbial mouthful here with this 5th one-page letter-to-Jadene: Here and now, olé! Solutions? You want solutions? Well? How about this one? As unrealistic a seeming demented fantasy of an absolute screw-up as this may hit you . . . and as absurd as this may at first appear, I encourage you to consider what I've postulated here with as 'level' of a head as you can force yourself to muster up from out of where you must be feeling that you are trapped at some (seeming) dead-end, or whatever; and elevate all your good points. Let them lead you astray from your doubts and anger, and toward a vastly-improved existence without them to confound your intelligence to make decisions in a straightforward and forthright manner--as in like I am trying to do here in my foggy haze of old-fogeyhood. thizzz yer dad here
( P.S: I haven't mailed copies of this to anyone else.... yet.)
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