Throwback Thursday Kindergarten Edition

I don't know why I was always late getting to school before the bell rang in kindergarten. Perhaps I was too exhausted from riding my wagon around the neighborhood the night before? Perhaps I stayed up too late watching the Dukes of Hazzard with my father? Perhaps that was one of the nights I got spanked for lighting my paper garbage can on fire in my room? Perhaps I was just too sick to get to school on time, as I missed a good month of that year being sick? Perhaps I just didn't have any desire to get to catholic school on time? Perhaps I thought I was too smart for crayons and chalkboards and nuns and whatever else I had to endure in that classroom? Perhaps I just liked to sleep in sometimes?

I really don't know the reason, but I lived less than one small city block from St. Matthias school, so there must have been good reasons for me not to be there when I was supposed to be there. That's a lot of theres in that sentence. I do recall that sometimes when I was late, my brothers friends would try to sneak me in by surrounding me as they walked into the school, but apparently it didn't work all that well. I thank them for trying.

Apparently the school was saving money by writing a detention note for both myself and my brother, Michael. Times were tough back in 1979 in Lincoln Square.

Sad Blog

I decided to venture up to the roof tonight as it was pretty stormy and cloudy and rainy for most of the day, but the sun had started shining and I wanted to see what the skyline looked like from way up there. It's Bridgeport...there's not too much in the way of the view downtown, but I did forget about the trees, and they were tall enough and filled with leaves to block a bit of the view. It's still a good view, but I didn't find the photo opportunity I was looking for. Another time, perhaps.

During my time up there I ventured over to look at the alleys below and I spied the neighbor kid looking like he was sneaking out of the backyard. Him and his friend left the yard and started running down the alley towards the front of the house. He's probably about five years old, perhaps six...I don't really know as I guess I just don't quite know how old kids are these days. It's been so long since I was that age that I just lump all kids into one giant kid age group. No idea how old they are. He could be ten for all I know. Anyway, it should have been a cute moment watching a child gingerly open the gate and then start running down the alleyway, but all I thought of in that moment was that I wish he was running away from home. That's if you can call it a home where he lives. It's hardly that. More of a dwelling or just a house or perhaps a shelter? His Mom (and I use that term very loosely) would be in the running for Mom of the Year if Mom of the Year criteria consisted of yelling and swearing at her kids. I don't know what goes on inside that house, but I've heard enough from what has gone on outside it to know that that kid is going to have a lot to overcome. If she's not screaming at her kids, she's screaming at her husband/boyfriend/whatever he is. It's just a lot of hate happening inside that house. I've never seen her hit her kids, assuming they are hers in the first place, but the mental pain she's unleashed is probably just as bad, if not worse. 

He's just a kid and he has to deal with all of this crap already. The crap is supposed to come later on in life, not so soon. I had an odd childhood as my parents divorced when I was just out of kindergarten, but I didn't have to deal with that kind of daily abuse. Perhaps it's not daily, but I doubt it. The winter deafened (to my ears) most of the outpouring of disgust from her mouth, but the summer is bringing it out again. Seems as if it's always stormy inside that house. It's too bad she wasn't infertile. 

And on the opposite end of the pain spectrum, I received a text on my way home from work today that my cousin Vicky is in hospice and perhaps has four weeks left in her life. I don't believe she's even made it to the age of 60 yet. Some sort of cancer will take another life too soon. I'm not all that close with her or her siblings as we've all sort of lost touch for some reason or another, but it's still sobering to realize a relative is about to die. She has requested no calls or visitors as she fades into another existence.

I don't even know that much about her. I do know she had a love for music...Jethro Tull and Fleetwood Mac come to mind when I think of her, as I know she went to some of those concerts over the years. I suppose it's also sad that I don't really know much more than that. A life is about to end and I hardly know anything about that life. It's too easy to lose touch. It's too easy to not care. It's too easy to not bother. It's too easy to take life for granted. 

I don't know what it feels like to know you're going to die, but I can't imagine it's a good feeling. Perhaps if all of your life has been spent suffering and feeling pain, the end would be something to look forward to, but...there is no but...it probably is a relief to die. I'm just not sure how it feels when that isn't the case and you've lived a good life, but it's all coming to a close faster than you probably expected or wanted. 

We don't really have that much time here in our lives. Sometimes it feels like it's forever and sometimes our pains feel like they will never end and sometimes it all feels completely hopeless and worthless, but it's not. We're all here for some reason, whether we ever figure that reason out for ourselves or not. Every life teaches a lesson to someone, somewhere, and it's our responsibility to absorb the lessons and learn from them. These lessons aren't always easy to absorb. We're not always as absorbent as those Charmin Bears in soaking up the excrement of life. We just have to keep trying I guess. Death and the pain others are experiencing can provide some perspective on our own suffering, or what we think of as suffering, but it doesn't make our pain go away. It just sheds a little more light on the delicate nature of life. Perhaps we learn from that, perhaps we don't. 

Hopefully that neighbor child has a good supply of toilet paper to get him through the shitstorm he has to endure every single day of his life. And I guess I'll see be attending a funeral in the not too distant future, so I can celebrate a life and connect with those still living relatives I pretty much only see at funerals. 

Hopefully I've learned another lesson. 

Sad blog indeed. 

Toilings of Today/Ugly Rumors Rested...

I had a dream the other day. Not one of those life changing dreams like MLK had, but it was significant, as the music died that day. I was talking to one of the women who I played with on a baseball team and I was cautiously letting her know I thought it would be best if she stopped playing second base, as she couldn't catch, couldn't field and certainly couldn't throw, not that she'd need to throw, as the ball never once got anywhere near her glove. She laughed and then completely agreed with my assessment. Then she asked me if I had heard that Buddy Holly had just died. I hadn't heard. Sadness descended and overwhelmed.

I guess in that short moment before I woke up I could understand how all those folks felt back on February 3, 1959. Well they probably heard on February 4th or 5th as news didn't get around quite as quickly in those days.

I've invested more of my time the past week or so using Instagram. I like taking pictures. It's an app for sharing photos. Why has it taken me so long to embrace this technology? I don't know. Probably the same reason I resisted buying a digital camera to replace my Pentax K1000. It's odd though as I bought a digital camera long before I bought that Pentax. It wasn't my first camera though, as my Grandma Hogan bought me a cheap camera back when I was in grade school. And by cheap, I mean it was plastic and probably cost $5. I put one roll of film in it and I believe only one of the pictures may have actually turned out, though out of focus and quite uninspiring. It was the thought that counted and I always appreciated that gift, regardless of whether or not it worked. If you want to follow me on Instagram, my username is dbuban. Clever, right? I'm such a social media whore. Anyway, the internet needs more pictures of nonsense and it just so happens that I specialize in nonsense.

Speaking of nonsense, my roommate is watching another documentary show about aliens and mars and NASA and the government and conspiracies and oh Jesus...just let it end. I cannot stand this stupid shit. I could care less if they exist or not, I just hate the TV shows about the subject. Perhaps I need to stop being so judgmental about these things. Probably most things. It's a process.

File this one under roll my eyes and chuckle. The universe has quite a sense of humor sometimes. I don't read my horoscope all that often, but I happened upon a RedEye at work the other day and flipped through it and ran across the horoscope page. Here's what I found.

It just made me chuckle again.

And now, onto the rumor mill...

Now I don't know how this got started, but there's some silly rumor going around that involves me and my bike and a certain bridge on Halsted street near Archer and my face slamming into that bridge. I don't know how rumors get started or even why someone would waste their time starting them. These are things I cannot explain and certainly can't comprehend...which is probably why I can't explain them. I cannot confirm nor deny these ridiculous rumors. I also cannot confirm whether or not my body is battered and sore today. And I certainly don't know if I had to go to CVS to buy some superglue, so my roommate Alex could glue my ear back together. I don't know why these rumors spread so quickly and easily when almost no one could have possibly seen what probably never really happened. I have no idea what it feels like in that instant when you know your face is going to bash into a giant hunk of steel, but I don't imagine it feels all that good. For the person or the bridge. I have no idea who won the battle, but I imagine it was a draw. Ha! Get it? No? Drawbridge! Ha. 

Anyway, stop with the hearsay!

Also I'm fine.

Assuming the super glue actually works. 

Enjoy your evening, my friends!

King Nebuchadnezzar

So this is happening tomorrow night, which is, of course, May 9th in case you were unaware. There's a theatre group called The Bridge, which puts on shows every now and again in the performance space here at First Trinity Lutheran Church. Here's the FB link in case you're interested...

https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-BridgeBridgeport/473306519468272

The Bridge puts on a show called Follow Spot, which is a monthly performance art showcase.

Why am I bothering to tell you all about this?

Good question, please allow me to answer.

My roommate, Bob Leone, has created this King Nebuchadnezzar musical which will close out the festivities tomorrow night at Follow Spot. He's been working on this twenty minute epic production for quite a while now and I've seen the rehearsal...it's quite impressive.

King Nebuchadnezzar, besides being a pain in the ass to spell, is a musical based on the first four chapters of the Book of Daniel, which is in the bible somewhere. It's basically about a King who kills a bunch of people by throwing them in a furnace because they are not bowing down to him and the God he created for them to worship. There will be aliens and a flying saucer and a briefcase full of Babylonian money and there's probably some sort of moral lesson to be learned as well, but I'm not all that good at lesson learning, so I probably missed it. I also think Bob might be going a bit crazy, but please don't tell him I said that. I'm sure he's not, but I just want to play it safe in case he actually is and this sets him off for some reason.

Regardless of his possible sanity, he did manage to hire some of the top performers in the Chicagoland area in order to bring his vision to reality. My other roommates, Greg and Alex, are involved. Greg plays an alien watcher and will have a singing part. Alex created the flying saucer and I'm not sure what else he's doing. My favorite eleven year old, Roxy, will be playing the role of the red guard, and believe me, she's quite an intimidating presence. She's also has an ego the size of Texas. Just ask Bob to show you her rider for the performance....item number 17 - six dozen white roses, each of which contains three flaming hot Cheetos delicately tucked inside the delicate white petals. Jazmyn and Ana will be belting out songs with their beautiful voices and Lauren will be advising the King, as that's what she does best...advising royalty. Tewz will be creating some crazy sound effects and just being pretty cool in general. It's a solid group of folks.

Now you're probably saying to yourself, that's all great and good, Dave, but why aren't you involved?

Another good question.

As you can see, I was not listed on the flyer.  Bob mistakenly thought I was way more awesome and talented than his musical deserved, so he left me out of the mix.

Until he didn't.

That's right. I'll be taking the stage for the first time tomorrow night since Frank Dazzo and I were the stage hands in the sixth grade variety show at J.B. Nelson elementary school. I totally kicked ass at opening and closing the curtain back then, and I'm going to totally kick ass playing the one percenter from the future tomorrow night. Bob thought so highly of my acting skills that he gave me the most important non-speaking role in his musical! He realized I was the only one capable of conveying meaning to an audience solely through the use of facial expression.

I have no idea why he would think something like that.

So that's what I'll be doing with my Saturday night. I hope each of you has something amazing lined up as well, but if you don't and you want to stop by for what will probably be the one and only time I'm in a musical, please do. You're more than welcome.

Sexy Time Book Review!

This is just a flat out fuck fest between a man, a woman, and their beloved puppy dog. It's a circular tale of lust gone wrong amidst the tall grasses in a field somewhere near what looks to be a fence. His chiseled face and gritty attitude, her unspeakable beauty and coy demeanor, and the dogs intense, collared S&M desires result in an Autumn Conquest that no one will soon forget. 

It's already understood that you're sucked into this complex saga, so I won't bother with the rest of my review...mostly because I figured it all out from the book cover, but here are some steamy passages to keep you piqued before you eventually purchase the book through Amazon. 

"She's still my wife,' Luke said calmly.

'That's easily remedied,' Perry Snapped.

Luke smiled at him with the insolent arrogance which could enrage a saint, but he made no answer. Instead he looked at Sara, the grey eyes resting briefly on Perry's arm around her waist, then moving up to her flushed, tear-stained face. 

'I'll see you at the funeral,' he said drily."

"She glanced past him at the open front door. Luke stood there, on his own home ground, his dark head wearing the barbaric look of a powerful Emperor in this new world. A primitive sensation of sheer panic thrust through her. Had she made a mistake, after all?"

"Luke caught Sara's arm and turned her to face him. 'Don't ignore me, Sara! I've told you before, I will not have it.'

'Let go of my arm,' she said icily.

His eyes flashed. 'Don't use that tone with me!'

'Don't you manhandle me, then!"

"She turned and ran upstairs without answering. Luke came after her, leaping the stairs two at a time. On the landing he caught her arm and held her prisoner.

'Sara, what's the matter? You change from hour to hour. I'm confused. Last night I had the feeling I was getting through to you, but this afternoon you've been as distant as ever..."

"I wanted nothing of the sort,' she protested.

'All right,' he said, 'what did you want? Tell me that.'

'I wanted to see you more than once a week,' she flung, her eyes bitter with unshed tears. 'I wanted a husband who came home to dinner, who took me to the theatre, who was a companion..."

"Before she could finish her sentence Perry had jerked her down into his arms and began to kiss her, one hand stroking her hair, loosening it from the diamond clip so that it fell in shining folds around her face.

'Perry, stop it,' she mumbled, struggling. 'I've got to tell you...I'm sorry, but..."

Holy balls! That is completely intense and I am sitting here wondering just how the hell it all turns out. I mean, I think I've known love and desire, but these three just take it to a level I had no idea existed. I'm like the Highlights magazine version of love and desire and this is like some trifecta of Bill Cosby, Courtney Love and Marmaduke all rolled up into one tangy, sticky, sweet fruit roll-up. I'm afraid of what I'll find if I unroll it, so I'll just take a few more delicious bites and gobble it all up as quickly as I can, knowing that I won't feel this sort of passion until I find another Harlequin Romance to sate my passionless existence. 

I'm sweating a lot. Can someone please open up a window?

Oh what do we have here? An order form? I do love me some history and when that history comes wrapped up inside the embrace of lovers, even better. Where'd I put that pen of mine? 

Unveiled Fortunes

People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner.
Damn right they do.

Never chase a dog into a dead-end alley.
That's good advice. Also, never chase a black bear back into its den. Chances are nothing good is going to come of doing something as foolish as that. And really, you shouldn't be hanging out in dead-end alleys anyway. If you want to hang out in an alley, pick a nice, brightly lit, open-ended alley in a nice neighborhood so you don't look so fucking weird. And stop chasing dogs for God's sake.

Many receive advice, only the wise profit from it. 
Now I feel weird about writing this blog, as I kind of think most of my readers are wise, but I realize my advice here is mostly just crap. So, uhhh...I guess do what you will with my advice. I'm not going to steer you in one direction or another, but just know that I wish you the best and only have your best intentions in mind.

A beautiful person is with you, confide your problems.
I'm the only one here in my room and yes, I'm beautiful and I'm a good person, but if you read my last blog post, you'd know that I'm kind of tired of confiding my problems with myself. I'm kind of tired of problems in general, that's why I'm working towards solutions. Jebus, this is supposed to be entertaining. No one cares about how beautiful I am. Or maybe it was the problem thing and confiding that you were caring about, I'm not sure. Either way, I'm still beautiful. Sorry if my beauty makes you envious.

What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.
Ahh...crap. I knew one of these was going to throw me for a loop and make me actually have to think for a minute. I guess a friend is just like an STD. A single virus dwelling in two different genital areas. Some friendships aren't meant to last. It's probably better that way. Get yourself some ointment.

Lucky numbers 27, 7, 36, 54, 22, 14

A merry heart does good like a medicine.
I got a tetanus shot and a whooping cough shot last week when I went to see my doctor. She listened to my heartbeat, but didn't say anything about whether it was a merry one. I don't get my test results back until later this week though, so I imagine there will be some info regarding how merry my heart is or isn't in the report. I'm going to guess, I'm on the low end of that spectrum, but I'm not a doctor, I just google stuff on the web for diagnoses and hope it's accurate. I know she managed to find a pulse though, so that seems like it's a favorable sign.

If you wish to see the best in others, show the best of yourself. 
Wish I had actually opened this fortune up and heeded its advice many, many months ago. Guess I'll just have to start doing that now. I've got a lot of best inside, I just don't communicate it all that well sometimes/quite often/most of time/way less often than is necessary. But perhaps, on the flip side, I'm just waiting for others to show the best in themselves and then I'll follow suit. So step up your game folks. I'm tired of waiting for your best self.

I Love My Grandma!

I love my grandma too! Both of them actually. They're deceased and have been for quite a while, but I still love them.

I just don't quite know which of these two in the picture is the grandma. They both have long hair. Looks like the chick on the left has a beard though, so maybe it's the other one in the dress, but they're both wearing a tiara. Jesus, I'm confused. Who the hell knows? Regardless, those are friendly looking butterflies on the frame.

10,000 Thanks!

Well it's taken over six years, but I finally reached the vaunted 10,000 page view plateau for Erased Chalkboard, so I'd like to thank all of you for taking the time to read this every now and again! Hopefully this here blog has provided you with some entertainment over those years, and hopefully it will continue to do so for many more years.

I appreciate all of the friends and family and strangers who have bothered to click on the links, and I especially appreciate those who have bothered to click on the links and actually take the time to read what was written. I know in this fast-paced, bit-sized world we live in, reading an actual blog post can be a chore, but I hope it's been worth your while. I've enjoyed writing them, as I need something to do with my time, and it gives me an opportunity to really hone my stupidity.

I suppose it's a drop in the bucket compared to the bajillion clicks some sites get, but I'm pretty happy with that drop.

So here's to another 10,000 page views before the year is out! I'll do my part. Feel free to do your part as well. And heck, while you're at it, share this with others if you think they'd be entertained as well.

I thank all of you from the deepest recesses of my soul! You help to bring back this kids smile.

If I Intend to Live Again

"If you intend to live again
Then take the outstretched hand
Of one who needs you
It's been so long, we've missed you

Why do you intend to speed your end?
Lie in the dark and let your limbs
Grow weaker, sinking low then deeper
How can you be so near and not see everything?"

Every now and again I feel as if I'm near, but it's only for short, fleeting moments. I don't see everything, that's for sure. I've been doing everything I can, as far as I know, to move on. Stuffing myself full of Science of Mind information. Eating well. Sucking down amino acids like they're delicious Sixlets. Waking up early. Going to bed early. Being productive. Writing more. Meditating. Exercising, when my silly back permits.

Sometimes though, none of that progress means anything. Believe me, the work I've done has helped tremendously, but it's obvious that I need to keep at it and ramp it up to some extent. It's only been two and a half months, but it feels like it's been ten years since I last wrapped my hand up inside of hers. It's worse every time Friday rolls around. Work keeps me busy and occupied during the week and then, all of a sudden, it's time for a few days off and I don't really know what to do with myself. I mean, I know what to do with myself, and I cross plenty of things off my to do list, but my mind doesn't know what to do with all that free time, so it just ends up seeking out the past. It's ridiculous how many things come back to you when you're in this state. There are all the obvious things, but my mind wanders into so many corners and crevices that I didn't even know existed. Everything seems to bring back a memory and this beautiful weather this weekend just made me think of all the things we could have been doing. I suppose when you spend that much time with someone the memory banks inevitably end up overflowing. What I'd give right now to access the spigot that would let it all pour out and go away forever.

Unfortunately, that spigot is my mind, and I'm not yet where I need to be as far as controlling it. I'll get there and I know it really hasn't been all that long, but I need to be more mindful of the things I allow into my mind.

One of those things is music. I've stayed away from a good bit of the music we shared, but I've been lazy as far as filling up my iPod shuffle. Clicking on one of my Buban Bash party playlists and filling it up just isn't cutting it at this point. Case in point, last night, when I was on my long journey home from my friends birthday party in Logan Square, I ended up walking down Halsted for quite a while, as the bus was nowhere near where I needed it to be. I'm listening to my iPod and these three songs came along in consecutive order...

The Mad Lads. I Don't Want to Lose Your Love.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqeeiWPCVsM

"If you leave me baby, I'll keep on loving you anyway.
I wouldn't feel bad girl falling on my knees begging you to stay."

Rainbow. Since You've Been Gone.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVlweGKZEqw

"I get the same old dreams, same time every night
Fall to the ground and I wake up.
So I get out of bed, put on my shoes, and in my head
Thoughts fly back to the break-up."

The Beatles. I Need You.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7nIWKApT30

"You don't realize how much I need you
Love you all the time and never leave you
Please come on back to me
I'm lonely as can be
I need you."

I guess I can be thankful that this one didn't start playing next, as it was on the iPod.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7th5Tm5-64

Fortunately, the Joan Baez version of The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down started playing instead. A few minutes later, I got on the bus, had insufficient funds on my Ventra card, exited the bus, and then called up an Uber. Forgot to account for all the bus and train rides this weekend. Oops a daisy.

I don't need to be hearing this shit constantly on my iPod. I constantly have to have my finger on the forward button, so I can skip through all the songs I don't want to deal with. If I didn't listen to music so much, I wouldn't have this problem, but I do, and I'll continue to do, but no more autofilling that iPod of mine. Loving music and barely being able to tolerate it don't go hand in hand very well. Those three songs are great songs, but I'd be fine if I didn't hear them again until 2016, at the earliest. And who the hell wants to hear those kinds of songs at a party? What was I thinking when I started assembling that playlist? It's supposed to be a party, a celebration, a fun time. No one wants to hear songs about love having disintegrated. Keep it happy, keep it upbeat. That's the message I'm trying to embed into my mind. Keep it happy. Keep it upbeat. Reversing a lifetime of negativity doesn't happen overnight. Rome wasn't built in a day and my mind isn't going to reverse all of that damage in two and a half months.

So I'll be more mindful of what I allow myself to hear. I'll be more mindful of what I'm allowing in. And I'll definitely be more mindful of what I'm allowing out, what I'm letting go.

"There's no point in beating yourself up.

The choice was made, deed is done, day is over.

Time to move on, and with no regrets.

Take with you the lesson but leave the judgment.

Just try again tomorrow."

And yeah, I know, I know, I'm not supposed to post these sorts of weakness/feeling/break up type of posts, but I don't really give a shit. It's my blog. It's how I'm feeling. Writing about it helps for some reason. I don't know why. I do enjoy the writing process, so I suppose whatever helps is a good thing. Sorting out your feelings is also a good thing, you should try it some time. Actually, we should probably do it all the time. 

And also I know everything happens for a reason and that everything will work out for the best in the end and that my thoughts determine what happens in my life. Sometimes it's all easier said than done. Someday (hopefully soon) that won't be the case. 

And also yeah, yeah, I know...I probably shouldn't post blogs during Blackhawks playoff games, but I'm not watching and perhaps you folks will read it later on after they've won.