you take them to a room apart from the rest of the clinic, where you find:
a sofa & a box of Kleenex. also
an exit door to the parking lot: you will be able to leave without running the gauntlet of reception desk and waiting room
the dying dog is calm. the dog with whom she has spent her life is frantic and must be taken away
a sedative is administered. after a few minutes, she passes out
the vet returns with instruments of mercy
you can go now if you wish (take her collar)
My productive hours have recently been monopolized by practicalities that have little to do with accomplishing anything of lasting value. An artist is someone capable of ignoring such practicalities in preference to acts of creation. A businessman will do the same in pursuit of riches, a soldier for victory, an entertainer in exchange for fame, an addict for a good high. During the accomplishment of such things, time evaporates in the way that a summer may glide by until the arrival of fall. Confronting winter, you think damn, I misplaced summer; it slipped away when I glanced elsewhere, and it will never return. You may create art, or secure wealth, prestige, victory or oblivion, but in all cases the price will be the forfeit of seasons.
Gunner is an old Labrador Retriever. If he is not asleep, Gunner is usually computing the trajectory of breakfast. He also speculates on what sex would be like, but the only girl dog he knows is his sister, and she is totally disinterested. Also Gunner is hydraulically challenged, so he will die a virgin. But breakfast will arrive many times. (On my Profile page, Gunner is the dog on my right.)
In real life, when you are old, nobody says “It’s a beautiful day, let’s go play fun games in the sun.” Of course they rarely did in the past, but you substitute for your younger life a fantasy of what you wish it had been. Today, if there were games in the sun, you’d strain something, or get heat exhaustion, and you were never good at games to begin with. But those considerations are not the real problem. I think everyone just gave up.
There is a wall between us and some of the people we meet. It is as though for years, terrible things have befallen them in succession, freezing them in defensive positions they will never relinquish. We sit across from these people attempting to communicate. Social niceties alternate with barbed observations about the world around us, the world that cannot be trusted or enjoyed, even by the luckiest people who have ever lived there.
Yelling Athens Man Charged With Public Intoxication
(from the June 22, 2017 Blotter column in the Athens Banner Herald)
"Randy Meadows, 50, was arrested Tuesday night after causing an alcohol-related disturbance outside his apartment building in the 1300 block of Boulevard, Athens-Clarke County police said. Responding to the man’s fifth 911 call that day, an officer found Meadows in his apartment’s parking lot “screaming at the top of his lungs mostly (sic) inaudible phrases,” according to police. The officer warned Meadows he faced arrest if he did not quiet down and go inside, but the man continued to yell ......"
Most people accept being being pretty much alone, pretty much all the time. Some can’t. They’ll draw attention to themselves, screaming nonsense in a parking lot after drinking too much, or huffing gasoline, or snorting crystal meth for six days, whatever. Obviously, the problem has to do with intoxication. But often the person screaming in the parking lot is also terminally lonely, and they’re making a lot of noise to see if they can wake up a deaf world. Extreme tactics that suggest some kind of relief from the isolation of our postindustrial world, such as screaming in a parking lot, don’t often work. You’d feel like the world’s biggest ass if you got processed at the Adult Detention Center for hollering at people nobody can see. Or, if the cops succeed in calming you down enough to let you go, you’d know that a one way door, an important one, had closed somewhere. A blackout would be your only protection against such humiliation, but that type of protection costs more than it’s worth. Someone could get to a certain point, they’d rather set themselves on fire than spend one more day waiting for things to finally get better.
A trap for smart people
Many people who are attracted to Eastern thought, the study of great philosophers, and other systems for coping with life fail to solve their problems, despite immersing themselves in one or more of these disciplines. Solutions to our problems can be found without resorting to arcane studies, which, although fascinating, tend to stimulate entanglement in concepts that distract us with esoteric vocabulary, complex logical systems, and hypothetical speculations. Whatever the difficulty, we try to think our way around it instead of confronting it. Stated another way, if someone has severe emotional difficulties it is unlikely that studying Kierkegaard or Buddhism will effect a solution. Although you can’t criticize someone for seeking wisdom, there are people who unwittingly use their pursuit of understanding to obfuscate, deny, or postpone dealing with difficulties that are more effectively addressed via prosaic means: stop abusing substances, learn to deal with anger, cease blaming others for our own difficulties, etc. But that’s getting right to the crux of matters, instead of dressing them up in the rational processes of some of the smartest and most profound people who have ever lived --- and the smarter you are, the more likely you are to be attracted to this. With the possible exception of cognitive therapy, we cannot think our way out of depression or other difficulties such as addiction, selfishness, self pity, or madness. That’s like trying to fix a transmission with plumbing equipment. I’ve known absolutely brilliant people who have spent significant portions of their lives trying, in effect, to rebuild a transmission with pipe wrenches and toilet plungers, and it does not work.
I dunno what happened, but I will admit that almost 40 years ago lust was involved.
Now I'm devoting entire days to zoning ordinances and building permits. I have spent quality time with a 300 pound Georgia Bulldog fan while both of us admired a 1940-something John Deere three-banger. The official business was sheds, but the John Deere was the star of the day. Any fool who has ever heard one of those run would know that.
NEVER buy a shed from like, Home Depot or Lowes. If you are in the market for a shed (and it happens in the best of families,) find a multi-generational, family-run shed factory located on a rural route close to where you live. They will build, deliver, set up, and guarantee the shed of your dreams, which is a weird concept, but there is such a thing as Country Kinky. We settled on a repossessed shed (Rent To Buy!) that has only been broken into once, because the owner got drunk & misplaced their shed key. This lapse of memory necessitated certain shed modifications involving a crowbar. Also some device with an internal combustion engine bled oil on the floor, but for a $500 discount I'm willing to overlook certain things. I
PS the shed is 10' x 12'. I'm told that termites that attack the floor will glow briefly & then die.
Why Education Reform will Always Disappoint
No matter how often a school system switches superintendents, no matter what teacher training is mandated, no matter how severe the penalties schools suffer for not hitting target test scores, no matter how many hours teachers work, no matter how many teachers are fired, no matter how many principals are replaced, the main cause of student underperformance will remain. It is simply that unless students' homes are conducive to academics, the best efforts on the part of school systems will fail to accomplish the desired results. In other words, if parents do their jobs, the schools will be able to do theirs. Communities cannot penalize, reform, or legislate their way off this two way street.