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Saturday, September 03, 2005
I’m up early, its Saturday morning. Ta-dum-dee-da.
I’m off from work now until the middle of the month, Mrs. H has to have some surgery on Monday morning. She’ll be in hospital for a few nights, then off-work for the entire month.
Of course I’m concerned for her, that’s only natural, but she will be fine. I’ll make certain of it. That’s why I’m off, to take care of her. I wish she didn’t need the surgery, but she does, so we’ll do the best we can.
Its on my mind a lot at the moment, but that’s to be expected as well.
The other thing that is weighing heavily on mind today, is the date. Its an anniversary and not a particularly happy one.
It’s exactly one year ago today that my father died.
I can’t believe it myself. It’s hard to imagine a year passing by, it seems like only yesterday I was speaking to him on the phone. Actually, it was a year on Thursday since I last heard his voice. He was barely audible, but he knew it was me.
I didn’t see him in his final year, I hadn’t actually seen him for a couple of years before he died. I didn’t see how ravaged his body had become thanks to the cancer and the chemo. I didn’t see his hair fall out, or him becoming rail-thin.
My father was tall, like six foot and a robust, stocky man for most of his adult life. I can’t imagine what he looked like towards the end.
That may not be a bad thing, as my memories of him are all of how he always was. My father was blond when he was younger, and white haired most of my life. He’ll always look like that to me.
He was pretty rough on me in that final year. He was angry and resentful that I didn’t visit him. I had my own problems back then, including my unfortunate stretch of unemployment. He wasn’t that interested in any of that. I don’t blame him, he just wanted to see me.
He was lucky, he died at home, peacefully, in his own bed, with my mother by his side. Most people don’t get a death of their choosing. Under the circumstances, he managed to have a say in how he went.
I miss him, I miss him a lot. He was a good father and not just to me, but to all his kids. He did the best he could for all of us and in many ways that was pretty damn good.
As a faithless, godless, heathen, I don’t actually believe in an afterlife. I think he’s just gone and not to anywhere in particular. I do know he’s no longer in pain and I hope he’s at peace.
I wished he was proud of the way I turned out, but I know that he wasn’t. I hope he knew I’m OK. I’ll always be OK.
So here’s to you dad! A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about you and I doubt that a day ever will that I don’t.
OK, enough of this sentimental crap! Life is for the living and I’m still here. So are you! So are millions of us!
Unless you’re in Louisiana, Mississippi or Alabama, in which case you’re somewhere between life and death. Death is everywhere you look, except in the directions where you see suffering. The government doesn’t seem to be doing much for them at all.
That’s how America treats its poor people, especially if they are black. I’m just calling it as I see it.
Imagine if similar devastation occurred someplace with a mostly white, middle class population. They’d all be in shelters, well fed, clean and safe already.
What’s going on right now, in the aftermath of Katrina is the shame of the USA. Or it should be. And that useless cunt of a president, visits the area and lies unconvincingly about how the aid mission is going!
Right now, GW Bush looks like he is out of his depth and not in charge of dick. Look Georgie, if you can’t help the people in your own country, then you have no fucking business getting involved with adventures abroad. Yes, I am talking about Iraq, you nincompoop!
And I’m talking about Bush, not you, so relax, my beloved hippyfans!
America has more resources available than any other nation. They are richer, better equipped and are suppose to possess that can-do spirit that allegedly makes it so great. So where is all that shit now?
Ummm, my guess is Iraq. That’s where all the helicopters and National Guardsmen and the like are right now. And they’re doing a bang-up job there, making the world safe for democracy and all that.
Oh no, wait. Actually, they’re not. They’re fucking up over there as well.
The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina is the shame of their nation. That’s what you are seeing on your television right now. It’s an embarrassment. It’s pathetic. It sucks.
Here’s a joke for you: How many dead people does it take in the American south to get President Bush to take action?
Well, I don’t know either, but apparently it’s more than we have right now.
OK, maybe it’s not the best joke I’ve ever written and maybe you won’t be telling it down the pub later. But you got my point!
And that wraps up another edition of death, destruction and more death weekly. I don’t know about you, but I could murder a spliff right now. Yes, I know it’s 9am, does that really matter?