TIS THE SEASON

            There's a reason all the family-and-friends-oriented holidays are at the end of the year. Say what you will about pagan festivals and whatnot, I believe there's something a little more basic than that at the root.
    Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, Tet, New Year's... it all happens within the same 6-week period. These are the biggest celebrations of the year (granted, Turkey Day is strictly American, but still...) and they all happen at the end of the year. The reason is just that: THE END OF THE YEAR. We use it as a reflection on ourselves, as a worldwide Reality Check. We look at things and say "Hey, we made it through another 12 months without killing ourselves or each other." Yes, we lose a lot during the year. People die, jobs are lost, money is spent, possessions are stolen, things and people are taken from us. It's unavoidable because it's part of life.
    BUT.
    Things are also GIVEN to us. Babies are born. Jobs are found. Money is earned and won. Possessions are bought or created. Objects are discovered or recovered. IT ALL BALANCES OUT. Maybe not right down the middle, 50/50, but it comes back eventually.
    We think back on these things and reflect and bask in the memories of the good and the bad. We're human, so we want to do this with others. We want the comfort of those closest to us so we can share the mutual things we have both lost and gained. We want to mourn what we have lost and celebrate what we have gained, and we don't want to do it alone. We turn to our friends and family, those closest and most important to us. It's an interesting dichotomy how this time of year is simultaneously about the individual AND the group. We think about our family as a whole, but we also think about ourselves: the things we want for the upcoming year, the things we did and didn't do over the past year...
    Sometimes, you NEED to think about yourself. Someone very close and dear to me once said "If you don't take care of yourself, you're not going to be any good for anyone else." The irony is this is the one person who never did anything for themselves and only ever worried about everyone else.
    Something to think about: what's yours is YOURS. I'm not talking about possessions or money or anything shallow or stupid like that. I'm talking about YOU. Your life, your soul, your spirit. Your life is something that is completely yours unless you choose to give it to someone or something else, but the best part is YOU CAN TAKE IT BACK IF YOU SO CHOOSE. We were given this amazing thing called Free Will that allows you to choose as you see fit, to make your own mistakes and choices. Love whomever you want. Spend time with whomever you want. Live your life as you see fit. This is the gift we have been given, and as Americans, we are fortunate enough to be able to do just that. Just because you have friends some of your other friends don't like doesn't mean you need to cut off anybody. Yes, it sucks you can't have all your people in one place sometimes, but you find a way to make time for each little circle.
    I'm sad a lot of my friends don't get along anymore. It hurts to know that where we were once one big family, we're now broken down into smaller clusters. I don't understand it, I don't really understand how or why it happened, but it has. One group may not like another, or this person may have issue with that person, but there's always a bridge between. In this case, ME. Friends are important. Family is important, and in many cases, the two are one and the same. Occasionally, you have to fight for your family. You have to do the same with friends.
    A lot has happened over the past year. I think about it now, as the holidays come close and as this year draws to a close. There has been loss, there has been gain, there has been change. It's life. It's what's supposed to happen. I started this year with no job, full of uncertainty, full of confusion and conflict both in my heart and my mind. I look towards the next year with a bit more confidence, a bit more clarity, and a bit more optimism. I have to. It's the only way to move forward and to grow. Think on these things. Free will.

Tidal

            More than a year now, and I'm still experiencing firsts. That's a little tough to get used to.
    From June 23, 2010 until June 23, 2011 life was full of unwelcome firsts. It was Continuing On, it was Starting Over, none of which I wanted. Birthdays, holidays, milestones, anniversaries... all without that Special Someone, that one person with whom I had shared every second, every aspect, every memory for seven glorious years. It continues to be so, and once again, I'm scared of what it will be like and what my reactions and responses will be.
    Her birthday last year was hard, and this year was no better. July 4th, Labor Day, our Anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentines, February 25 (the day I proposed), Mother's Day, my birthday, and One Year. Last year on our anniversary, I went to Foxwoods for the first time in God knows how long. It was the first time I had EVER been there alone. EVER. It was unnerving and scary. In February, I attended Coronation alone for the first time. That was rough, especially seeing such a close friend, wearing her wedding gown, so distraught and upset as he entered the ballroom. I knew exactly how he felt.
    I'm approaching another one in a few days. This will be the first MonsterMania Convention I will be attending without her. I know it will be rough, I know it will be different, but I also know I'm ready. I haven't been to this hotel since March 2008, and she was sick the entire time. It was our honeymoon, and my mother, a very recent victim to a brain aneurysm, commanded us to go and have fun. Lucia was sick, she was having trouble breathing, and her leg was so swollen it was splitting the skin, but she was insistent on going. We brought her pump and her nebulizer, and she was so happy to hang out with Sid Haig and Brian O'Halloran and talk to the guys from Ghost Hunters. Terry Cruickshank, the artist who made our Zombie Bride And Groom dolls was there. The next Convention we went to was held in Cromwell, just a short ride from home, but it wasn't the same as Cherry Hill. And then... the world collapsed. Everything changed.
    And now I find myself about to embark on another First. Our friends know. There are some returning guests, but they probably won't remember me, not without her. And that's OK. It's part of starting over, I guess. She was such a commanding presence, not somebody you just forget. If you met her once, you remembered. Robert Englund, who hadn't seen us since 2005 and had seen countless thousands of other between us, recognized us in Cromwell in 2009. He looked at us, smiled, and said "You better have brought those wedding pictures." This from a celebrity who hadn't seen or heard from us in 4 years and had met how many other people, remembered that conversation, and I have no doubt it was because of her.
    I find it ironic that the same guys from Ghost Hunters will be there this time, that Lance Henirksen will once again be there, that Tony Todd will once again be there. It's a strange kind of homecoming, and I find myself wondering, since it has been so long since I have been there, how different things will be. Will it be a different set-up? Will it be a different atmosphere? How different will it be now that she's not there, in physical form, at least? I know her spirit will be there. She never leaves me. I can feel her constantly. I know she'll be there for the ride and the convention on Friday, and I can't wait to see how she makes her presence known. She left me a single white gerber at Kelly's wedding. What'll it be this time?

Priority... Two?

            We're always being told to prioritize. This needs to be done before this, something needs to happen before something else can happen, this person is more important than this person, blah blah blah you know the drill.
    There's only one problem with prioritizing, and that's that someone or something has to be #2. There always has to be a Second Priority. And nobody wants to be #2.
    Everyone wants to be first in line, first on the list, first come and first serve. It's insane. At work, your boss will come to you and say "I need you to do this, this, and this." So you start at the beginning, and eventually the boss will come back and say "Why are doing this, I need you to do this first." After this happens a few times, you get frustrated and blurt out, "In which order do you want these done?" and your boss will answer brilliantly, saying something like "I want them all done at the same time."
    That's a general attitude. And sadly, a lot of us think that way, and it's interesting to see what happens when people prioritize differently from one another. I'll give you an example.
    When I was fresh out of college, I knocked up the girl I was seeing. Originally, we had opted to keep the kid. I started working additional jobs and trying to squirrel away some money, and we decided to have a sit-down with both our families. Her father was career military and born into money. Both sides of the family were against our decision. Her father told me I didn't know how to make his daughter my priority, even though I was working more and saving more money. he said I wasn't making her the priority because I had wanted to keep the baby, and by doing so wasn't thinking about HER.
    Hm. Interesting justification.
    The thing about priority is compromise. Sacrifices have to be made, and you have to accept that maybe your shit is not as important as someone else's. It's even better when you have two people telling you that THEIR shit is more important than the other guy's, because then you get to tell them to duke it out amongst themselves, and THAT makes for good TV. :)

Yahrtzeit

        There was a point I feared getting a "real" job that included conferences and business trips. There was a time I was scared to get a real acting job because I was afraid it would take me away from Her for days, weeks... We'd never been apart that long. Even when she had been sick in the past, I would come and see her every single day, stay as long as I could, and come back the next day until I could bring her home.
    There was a time I was so scared the hospital would screw her up. They always managed to do something wrong or hurt her or make it worse, but I was always afraid that they'd screw up so badly they'd kill her.
    Just about a year ago, my worst fear was realized.
    Father's Day weekend last year, Lucia spoke her final words to me. She told me "I love you very very much," and I cling to that. I know how very lucky I am to have had that, because not everyone gets to say that before they go or hear it before someone is gone. I did.
    I was lucky to have every single day I did with her. I used to thank her on a daily basis for her love and affection. I know how lucky I was, and it was my honor to be there.
    I used to tell her "A day without your touch would be torture." It's been almost a year since I touched her hand, and almost 18 months since I held her in my arms. I wish I didn't have the memories of her screams and her tears and her pleading eyes, but I do. I'm haunted by them. But I need them, too, to remember the time we had together. Just the conversations, the love and devotion that lasted through the pain and the torture. I hated having to not only watch her be hurt, but to be made to participate in it, hoping and praying in vain that I was helping to make her better.
    Six months of pointless pain and suffering. If she had come home I would feel differently about it, but she was torn from my arms, stolen from the lives of unknown hundreds who loved her. I don't understand why she was made to suffer the way she was. It pains me horribly that i cant remember the texture and softness of her skin or the taste of her lips. I can't believe we managed to make it through a year. The road ahead is long and dark, but I have a few tricks to make it a little less bumpy. Hopefully they'll work.

I love you baby. I miss you horribly every day. I still cry, I still scream, I still stumble and fall, but I'm learning to walk again. If you could do it, I can do it. You did so much for so many, and now you can rest and watch the fruits of your labors blossom and grow, without pain, without restrictions, without handicap. I feel your presence every day, and I hear your messages and signs. Rest easy, Lucia Anne. We'll never forget.

35 Years And Counting...

        One more week until I'm dead-smack center of my 30s. This is neither where or how I thought I'd be at this point in my life.
    When we're young, we have so many hopes and dreams, fantastic dreams and sky-high hopes. As we get older, these dreams give way to more realistic hopes and smaller dreams. Winning an Oscar or being a famous movie star or writer give way to simply being able to live comfortably in your own home with your family.
    I thought I'd be living the high-life in L.A. as a writer or filmmaker by now. It's possible that can still happen, though honestly I know it gets slimmer with every year. More recently, my dream was to live a comfortable life with my wife and our menagerie, secure in the home we had built together. Even that dream has fallen by the wayside.
    I didn't think I would be a widower before I was 35. I didn't think I'd be restructuring my life and my lifestyle at this point. I didn't think I'd be by myself, not after nearly a decade of being part of not only a team, but a WINNING team. I wanted so much more for myself than this.
    I've taken to thinking of the things I need rather than the things I want for my birthday. Apparently I need new tires. I'm gonna have to finish this later, I can barely think right now.

THE TIES THAT BIND

            I was never one of the popular kids growing up. I didn't play sports, I wasn't in shape, and my tastes were a bit more...ECLECTIC than was deemed "acceptable" on a social level. This was the Milford Public School System in the 1980s, the time when nerds, geeks, and dorks were pretty much frowned upon. However, there are always "doorways." Mine was named Tommie Winn.
    Tom found me "interesting." His words. He found it interesting that while the in-crowd was playing ball and wrestling and whatnot during recess, I was sitting to the side scribbling things into a notebook and watching everyone else interact. My love of science fiction and movies and all things fantastical amazed him, and when he came over to my house the first time and entered my world, he was in awe.
    I was in second grade. He quickly became my best friend.
    Tommie and I were tight all through grade school. He was a jock, I was a geek. He got the pretty girls, I got the good grades. When I wanted to go after one of the girls, he was there giving me pointers and moral support, and when she shot me down, he consoled me and told me there would be other opportunities. When we hit 6th grade, he was the first one I invited to my Bar Mitzvah, and when the kids started having the make-out parties and overnights, he always made sure I got invited. Of course, it wasn't all wine and roses (or Coke and pizza). He was a fan of all things Boston and I was and continue to be a West Coast kinda guy. He got the word CELTICS shaved into head, I in return got LAKERS. but it was ll in fun and completely amicable.
     After 8th grade, he went to a private high school, I went to a public one. We've seen each other only a handful of times since then, and eve though we've reconnected through the power of Facebook, we've never had the chance to hang out.
    However, this was a natural progression. When you're younger, friends move away, people change, IT HAPPENS. However, friends also get into fights or even just little "tiffs." Most of the time, it's over something relatively petty or even just plain stupid. I didn't talk to a very good friend of mine for more than 10 years over the fact that I didn't want to try and sneak the girl he was seeing at the time, who was 19, into a club we were going to. I had been away at school and wanted to send time with my friends, and he was worried that if he came out without her, she would withhold sex from him. I got upset, and neither one of us made an effort until social networking came out, mostly because we lost track of one another. Now, we've reconnected, and while we don't see each other or hang out nearly as much as we used to, amends have been made and communication restored.
    Most fights between friends ARE petty and stupid. As with most arguments, they can be avoided with simple communication and honesty. It's always horrible to see a friendship that has lasted through so many years and so many events dissolve over something ridiculous. The affects of these spats can be widespread, and the parties involved almost never consider the ripples they cause and how they take a toll on family members and mutual friends.
    In high school, two close friends were dating. When they broke up, it was dirty, messy, and angry. I was tight with both of them, and didn't want to take sides. After all, their relationship had nothing to do with me, yet they were both my friends as a couple and individually. Both of them insisted I needed to "have their back", and I did. However, I refused to take sides against either one of them. I told each of them it was something they had to work out, and it was wrong for them to drag their friends into it. But, it was high school, so neither really listened. They were both angry with me and didn't speak or associate with me unless they had to, but when things finally cooled down, apologies were exchanged and life moved on.
    A friendship being shattered is like a divorce: you get half, I get half, but who gets the kids? Who gets the house? When friends stop being friends, everything becomes an ordeal: I can't go to this restaurant because THEY might be there. I can't go to the mall because THEY might show up. I can't go to this concert or movie because THEY like the same stuff I do. And, many times, mutual friends are forced to take sides and deemed "not my friend" or even "traitor" if they either refuse to take sides or take the "wrong" one. It's a very difficult and very straining situation for everyone involved, especially if the cause of the argument is another person.
    History is rife with stories about how a man or a woman was the cause of a fight, duel, spat, family fued, or even wars. Romeo and Juliet, Hatfields and McCoys, Helen Of Troy. This is a complicated situation on all sides, and it never ends pretty. What happens when two friends are interested in the same person? It's a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't situation. If you don't fight for them, you may be deemed unworthy of their company and seen as the lesser choice. if you DO fight for them, you risk not only seeming overzealous, but risk losing a friend in the process. It's a complicated, stressful situation.
    Sometimes, a friendship is strong enough to transcend the troubles that come along. Sometimes they're not. Where is the line? Where is the divider between acceptable and unforgivable? It varies, doesn't it? Just as certain deeds during a marriage or intense relationship differ between couples, what one person sees as okay may be viewed as completely taboo by another, especially when the friends involved are so much allike. The most difficult question to ask as well as the one that is almost never asked is this, as with all relationships: Do we have what it takes to make it?

WANTS and NEEDS

        I have a birthday coming up soon. I was reminded of this by my brother, who is three years younger than me, and my sister, who is six years younger. I honestly hadn't thought about it, having had other, more pressing things on my mind. Every year, my family asks me the same question: What do I want for my birthday?
    I'm going to be 35 this year. Something of a milestone. It's the halfway mark between 30 and 40, at least for that one day, because as soon as you are 35 years and ONE DAY old, you're officially closer to 40 than you are to 30. That's a big deal to some people, so when asked what they want, some will half-jokingly reply "To be 30 again."
    There is a difference between what we WANT and what we NEED. I'm not just talking about birthdays, holidays, or whenever else we're expecting gifts. Just in general. When we're hungry, we say we NEED food. That part is true, but do we NEED a double-quarter-pounder with large fries and a Coke? No. We WANT it. When we're thirsty, we say we NEED  a drink, but do we NEED an iced tea or V-8?
    Granted, these needs are biological. Our body needs food and water to survive, the same way we need clothing and shelter to withstand and survive the elements. Technically, we don't NEED companionship to survive, human beings are fully capable of individual survival, but there is a difference between SURVIVAL and LIVING, the same way there are differences between NEEDS and WANTS.
    Companionship makes life worth living. Variety in the food we eat, the fluids we drink, and the activities we do transform survival into living and WANTS into NEEDS. These are not actual NEEDS, but psychological needs, the way a smoker NEEDS a cigarette or we NEED to have our cell phones or a big soft bed to sleep in. It's why you go out after a stressful day, because you NEED to get away and relax and you NEED to have a drink. It's why you go to a club or a party and look at everyone dressed nice and having a good time, because you NEED to dance and decompress and NEED to get laid.
    Ah, there's another one. Sex. Oh, c'mon, you knew it was going to come up in here sooner or later, because we NEED to discuss it. Sex, believe it or not, sex is a biological need. As animals, we have a deep-seeded need to procreate and spread the gene pool. However, as HUMANS, we are more highly evolved and refer to this urge as LUST. It's a primal thing, and all animals do it. When we see someone we consider "hot", our hormonal output increases, our body starts giving off pheromones, and we start looking for ways to impress the attractive party. We like to think it's part of a personality, but it's not. It's more basic than that. When we see someone we find attractive, it is not a WANT that draws us to them. It is a NEED.
    We NEED to procreate, and that's what it's about. Humans are one of three species that have sex for recreation, next to apes and dolphins. That's another psychological need: decompression. Humans are predisposed to stress and worry. Other species do not have the concerns humans do, yet every species on this planet has this similar need. Dogs play, cats play, squirrels play... do bugs play? Probably, in their own weird little way. But we need to relax, we need to let loose, we need to go out and have fun and yes, sometimes we need to look like idiots. It's good for the heart, it's good for the soul, it's good for the body. Keep in mind that what affects the mind and heart also affects the body, so we need to not be so serious all the time.
    There IS a difference between WANTING and NEEDING, even if they are interchangeable sometimes. I WANT to climb back into my big, comfy bed and lie down, but I NEED to get moving and accomplish something today, the same way that if you're reading this, you did it because you WANTED to, not because you felt you NEEDED to. :) Now, go and do something you WANT to do.

Disinterested? Interesting...

    I don't know how many times I have to say it, repeat it, post it: I AM NOT INTERESTED IN THIS SHIT ANY MORE.
    It's fairly simple. I've explained it to those who have asked, yet it's these same people who continue to ask. I don't want to go to these dances anymore. I don't really want to be part of this community anymore. I'm not going to bounce, so don't ask. I don't dance, so don't ask. I don't drink anymore, so don't ask. I'm not looking to score or hook up, so don't ask. In case you haven't gotten it yet, DON'T ASK.
    This world started to lose its appeal when Lucia left. Now that none of my friends go anymore and the ones who DO go are fighting amongst themselves, there is really no appeal for me to go, so I don't. My world is bigger than this, and it's more entertaining, SO DON'T ASK. That simple. I'm done talking about this now.

THE HOLE

        I hate Yale-New Haven Hospital. In case you didn't know that, I wanted to make it clear. I. HATE. HATE. HATE!!! Yale-New Haven Hospital. Not just because they murdered my wife, but because of the cycle of abuse and neglect that directly caused it.
    Every time I hear about someone in the hospital, I get nervous. I get sick. I get sick and tight-chested just driving by. My mind automatically goes to the horrific things that happened there and the terrible way she died, and I start shaking and my heart starts pounding...
    I know it's not the same with everyone. My mother, who has been a patient several times, is being released today with no complications. That's good. I've had friends who go in, and my own roommate goes there every couple weeks. He comes home fine. Doesn't change my attitude. It's BECAUSE everyone is different that this happened to my baby.
    I can't even think right now. I'm just glad mom is coming home and that they didn't make her any worse than she already was.

Just DO IT already!!!

        I haven't smoked a cigarette in years. The last time I had one was in March of 2005, on the way to our first MonsterMania Convention in Cherry Hill, NJ. I lit it in the car at the Montvale rest stop, had three puffs on it, and threw it out. I was sick with bronchitis that weekend, and the smoke wasn't helping. I gave the remainder of the pack to Andrew Bryniarski, "Lattimer" from the movie "The Program" and the new Leatherface. That was the last time I smoked a cigarette.
    A lot of people I know still smoke, and it baffles me that they're still allowed to do it. Not because I disapprove, because who am I to deny someone their vices? The reason I'm surprised it because, bit by bit, the government is making it illegal to not only smoke, but to use any kind of tobacco.
    They're doing it at such a slow and gradual pace they're hoping nobody notices. A little hard not to when they make it illegal to smoke EVERYWHERE. You can't smoke in restaurants or bars. You can't smoke in pool halls or bowling alleys. You can't smoke in bus stations, subways, Central Park, or Times Square. The state of Connecticut taxes not only cigarettes, but cigars and smokeless tobacco and is considering raising taxes AGAIN. So, here's the question: if you don't want people smoking anywhere and are making it so expensive that people can't afford it anyhow, WHY THE PURPLE BLOODY MONKEY FUCK IS IT STILL LEGAL TO BUY AND USE IT?!?! STOP MASTURBATING AND OUTLAW THE SHIT ALREADY!!!
    The thing that pisses me off the most is that marijuana, which poses the same health threats but also has medicinal value (same as nicotine), is still illegal. I don't understand that.

Are We Surprised?

        We all want to find that Special Someone. We all have that dream of being happily in love and nothing in the world matters except that one other person. How we find that Special Person is another deal altogether.
    The thing that gets me is this, when it comes to the ladies: what makes you think that putting up pictures of your tits and ass is going to help you discover a guy who enjoys your mind as well as your body? Why are you surprised when you post nothing but sex pics and then the guys are done with you after they drop a load?
    It doesn't matter how much a guy begs to see your body. If you want a guy to respect you for you, he'll see your body IN PERSON when you deem it right. If you're looking to just hook up, fine. If you're looking for a one-nighter or a booty call, fine. If you're looking for a lover, a companion, a partner... take pictures of yourself fully dressed, being social, doing stuff other than posing in your underwear.
    Let me explain something. Guys are not as complex as you think. If we see a woman in her underwear or less saying she's lonely and looking for companionship, we're not thinking about walks on the beach and reading together or dinners. We're thinking about seeing those lacy panties on the floor as you scream our name. We're thinking about what's under that pretty bra. We're thinking about the noises you make while we're pounding you. Until we're already in a relationship, most guys are NOT romantic. We're horny.
    Not to say that some of us aren't romantics. I myself enjoy the romantic part. I love the smiles and the hugs and the warmth. But I'm different. Not to say I don't enjoy a good mattress ride, but I digress.
    All I'm saying is don't be surprised that guys are only interested in your body if you show it off like merchandise. If you want more, respect yourself and others will follow.

THE INITIAL HELLO

            So, after God knows how long of people telling me to do so, I have finally started my own blog on this site. Best part is, I DON'T HAVE TO CENSOR MYSELF.
    I've had a lot of people talking shit and causing drama in my life, and if I want, I DON'T HAVE TO LET THEM READ THIS. Not even gonna tell em. This is MINE. So. Brace yourselves, cuz I'm tired of worrying about what other people think.