Tag Archives: humor

Disney World Without Me

 

Yes, wife and daughter are re-visiting Walt Disney World in Orlando while I continue to rot in the heat at home in Texas.  But it is a completely okay thing.  As you can see, they are with recently widowed mother-in-law, wife’s sisters, and various nieces.  It is an all-girl trip.  It is all about family and healing.

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You can also probably tell that they buy into the Filipino-American picture-taking thing where you must document your own face and the faces of your family at every stop or pause or line waiting for the Golden Horseshoe Musical Review in Adventureland.  Oh, and we can’t forget the taking pictures of food before you eat it.

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And you can probably also Sherlock Holmes the identity of the niece in charge of photos and posting them on Instagram.  You will not, however, get their proper names from me.  I try to protect identities in all my public posts.  So when I tell you that this last one is a picture of Pompolina Ipsokookie eating a Mickey Mouse pretzel, you can rest assured that only one of the names in that sentence is not made up.  (Oopsie!  I used Mickey’s real name by accident.  Never mind.)

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I do not regret them having worlds of fun without me.  I am not in good enough health to travel.  I also have to stay at home with the son who is learning to drive and has a job to get to.  And I do get to see the incessant pictures and have a bit of second-hand fun.  It also helps that I am not paying for the trip.  I am being sued by Banko Merricka and don’t have any money.  And they might use a Disney Trip in court to say I have plenty of money and I am just being Scroogie with it.  (And I don’t necessarily mean to insult Scrooge McDuck, so, Disney, you do NOT have to sue me too.)

Anyway, Disney World trips by family members give me something to think about and post about to get my mind off my troubles.  Such things help to take away a bit of the pain of this wonderful life.

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Filed under autobiography, Disney, family, feeling sorry for myself, healing, health, humor

Stardusters… Canto Seven

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Canto Seven – The First Golden Wing

Farbick was aboard the golden wing to serve both as pilot and navigator, though he was fully aware that Commander Biznap could also do both.  He watched the three cadets strap in to the secondary seats behind the cockpit.  They were all wearing red shirts over their cadet uniforms, and Farbick wasn’t sure that it didn’t reveal a Star-Trek joke in very poor taste.

“Well, Farbick, old Fmoog, the Galtorrian Adventure is about to begin,” said Biznap, strapping himself into the cockpit seat next to Farbick.

“It may be more enlightening than you fear, Commander,” said Farbick.

“Fear?  I’m not afraid.  I’m just cautious.”

“Well, I’m afraid,” Farbick admitted.  “I was lucky enough to survive the Earth invasion fiasco, but this time more is at stake.  It isn’t just my life on the line.  Our whole population could be seriously decimated or even destroyed.”

“I don’t see why you’d be concerned about anybody but yourself,” said Commander Biznap.  “What does it benefit you to worry about anybody but you?”

“I could argue that I wouldn’t have survived on Earth if it hadn’t been for my friendship with young Davalon.  I was saved from death on Earth partially because Davalon cared enough to come looking for me when I was shot by the Earther policeman.”

“It isn’t normal behavior for a Telleron to care about a tadpole.  They are so easy to replace that it seems pointless.”

“They are not easy to replace if you consider them as individuals.  What would you feel if you lost Harmony Castille?”

Biznap opened his mouth, but the retort never came out.  He must’ve been thinking about what life would be like if he no longer had the one being in all the universe he actually seemed to care about besides himself.

The golden wing spiraled down through the cloud cover into the denser part of the atmosphere of Galtorr Prime.  Warning buzzers went off.

“The warning is because of the presence of acid rain,” said Starbright from the seat behind.

“In the name of Charlie!” swore Commander Biznap, “this world appears to be horribly polluted!”

That almost appeared to be an understatement.  The clouds around them boiled with storm winds and were a sickly yellow-green in hue.  Lightning was accompanied by flaming puffs of ignited methane.  The wing’s instruments indicated high concentrations of various poisons.

“Do we abort the mission?” asked Farbick.

“No.  We take the risk of landing.  We have environment suits.  We need to find a place to live in all of this mess.  Cadets?  Does anyone find any evidence of the native population?”

“Negative, sir,” said one of the nameless cadets.  “Is it possible they have polluted themselves to extinction?”

“I’d say it’s not only possible,” said Commander Biznap, “but it is highly likely.”

“We are definitely going to have to look out for one another on the surface,” warned Farbick.

“I will definitely watch your back, Mister Farbick, sir,” said Starbright.  “Some of us have learned the lessons about loving your fellow Tellerons from the Earthers on our crew, especially Mrs. Castille.”  Farbick looked at her, and her green face bloomed with a beautiful smile.

*****

(Pictured Above; Commander Farbick (on left) and Starbright)

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Happy Belated Birthday, Lucille Ball

Iranian scientist Shahram Amiri speaks to journalists as he arrives at the Imam Khomini Airport in Tehran

On Lucy’s birthday the “Scary Lucy” statue of her in her hometown of Celeron, New York was finally replaced with one that actually looks like her.

Carolyn Palmer

In this Wednesday, July 20, 2016 photo, artist Carolyn Palmer prepares to apply a cold patina to her bronze statue of Lucille Ball in Saddle River, N.J. The sculptor was chosen to create a replacement statue for one dubbed “Scary Lucy,” in the late actress Ball’s hometown. The much-maligned statue of Ball will be replaced after it drew worldwide attention as “Scary Lucy,” according to the mayor of the western New York village where the 1950s sitcom actress and comedian grew up and her life-size bronze has stood since 2009. (AP Photo/Mel Evans)

On Saturday, August 6th, Lucille Ball turned 105.  While it is true that she has also been dead since 1989, we never-the-less must acknowledge the fact that this comedienne and her singular body of work have been influencing life on Earth for over a century.  Perhaps we could even use more like her.

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She has been subtly guiding my own life since the days of black-and-white television and the genre-establishing sitcom, “I Love Lucy”, where she has been advocating for a woman’s right to work and have a career of her own by making us laugh at the situation over and over until it becomes a mirth-filled, easy-to-swallow fact-of-life.  She was the first female film producer to run her own production company, Desilu Productions.  She is the producer behind such television milestones as Star Trek and Mission: Impossible.  Being a child of the 60’s, raised by television almost as much as by my parents, she is a big part of who I am as a person.  To this day she still influences how I feel about things.  She is one of the primary reasons I can laugh at life’s troubles and, by laughing, overcome them.

So, I want to wish Lucy a happy 105th birthday.  And I find it amusing and ironic that “Scary Lucy”, the bronze golem of Celeron, New York, has finally been replaced on her birthday with a statue that pictures her more accurately.  We all need to see Lucy more accurately.  We all need to laugh more and love more and live better lives.  It was the “Golden Age” of television not because of the technology and the craft, but because of the essential goodness we can still get from it, that has stood the test of time for a century.

And I don’t think that I am merely looking at the whole thing through the colored lenses of my own affection for things in the past.  I think more modern and definitely younger people than I can benefit from getting to know Lucy too.  Lasting  105 years is a pretty big thing, even if you are dead when you do it.

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Filed under artists I admire, clowns, comedians, goofy thoughts, humor, review of television, sharing from YouTube, TV as literature, TV review

Growing the Gallery

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My bedroom walls serve as a gallery of my Paffooney artwork.

I have been collecting pieces of colored-pencil Paffoonery for a very long time now.  I am a life-long scribbler and doodler.  You are bound to build up an ocean of old drawings that you could easily drown in if you live that way long enough.  I recently found a few more in an old scrapbook I had squirreled away in the library between cartoon books.

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These are all drawings I did for my three kids when they were little.  I suppose that gives them sentimental value.  They are all imitations of copyrighted characters.  But I am not selling them.  I haven’t actually stolen anybody’s intellectual property yet.  But it makes a good filler post as I continue to rest and work on other things.

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Tim Burton Movies

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Last night the Princess and I went to see Alice, Through the Looking Glass, the latest Tim Burton movie.  Of course we loved it.  Burton is one of the most interesting story-tellers of our time.  Did you know he is two years younger than me?  And also, like me, he began as a cartoonist and is totally dedicated to the idea that every artist is a surrealist and must exaggerate, elucidate, equivocate, and numerous other things that start with the letter “e” and end with the suffix “ate” simply because that’s how surrealism starts.  You notice a little bit of weirdness in real life and blow it all out of proportion with lies and coloring of meaning and relentless “what-iffing?”  If you don’t see surrealism in those last two sentences of purple paisley prose… then maybe you can see it visually in Burton’s many masterpieces.

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Tim Burton began his legacy as an apprentice Disney animator specializing in stop-motion animation.  But he was just another creative nobody like me until the launch of his small-budget monster hit, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.

Of course, any time you can pull in huge profits for little investments, you will have Hollywood executives ramming the heads of their unpaid interns like battering rams against your door so they can get in and throw money at you.

Hence, Batman.

 

Batman was the first time I actually took notice of Tim.  And not just as a director of a film… eventually two films.  He was gifted at assembling a cast.  And this would work to his advantage as several singular talents attached themselves to him and worked in his movie projects repeatedly.

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And his repeated collaboration with Danny Elfman and his music was easily as great a master-stroke of genius as John Williams with Spielberg and Lucas.

He has repeatedly used his movies to describe and rewrite his own life story as a misunderstood genius flubbing horribly in the quest to fit in with a world full of “regular people”.

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Poster for the film ‘Edward Scissorhands’ (directed by Tim Burton), 1990. (Photo by Buyenlarge/Getty Images)

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His sense of humor, of course, is distinctly and colorfully bizarre.

Dark Shadows

DSTF-0046r JOHNNY DEPP as Barnabas Collins in Warner Bros. Pictures’ and Village Roadshow Pictures’ “DARK SHADOWS,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

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Burton is, just like me, a child of the 70’s.  He references things like the old gothic soap opera, Dark Shadows, that were a part of his impressionable youth just as they were mine.  He picks stories about things he truly cares about, and that is also just like me.

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So, in a rather bizarre coincidence that is entirely appropriate to surrealists, I love any Tim Burton movie simply because it is a Tim Burton movie.  He is probably me in an alternate dimension.  And as such, I already know I will love his next movie, whatever the heck it is.

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Trudging Towards Tomorrow

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My three kids used to be cute, even with goblin grins.

I spent a lot of time yesterday looking at old photos.  The journey seems a lot longer looking back than looking at the trail ahead.  But there are good things beside every signpost on the road behind us.  I am proud of where we’ve been.

The Three Faces of the Princess at the Kingdom Hall;

  1. “We’re going to MacDonald’s afterwards, right?”
  2. “What do you mean REAL FOOD?”
  3. “Yes, that was me that farted.”

We are basically right with God.  Oh, I know I haven’t been a very good Jehovah’s Witness the last three or four years.  Being an atheist might have something to do with it.  But I actually  believe in God.  It is just that my God is a bit bigger than theirs.  My God is not some old man with a white beard on a golden chair in some invisible dimension.  He is everything there is.  And he doesn’t have to promise me eternal life and goodies for a lifetime of doing what I believe is good and right and benefits the lives of others.  I don’t do it for theological dog treats.  I do it because I know in my heart it is right.  And I live for the here and now.  Because that is the only part of existence that is relevant to me here and now.  “I am a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars, I have a right to be here.” (from Desiderata by Max Ehrmann)

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We used to do a lot of camping and traveling.  We have seen some amazing things in amazing places.

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The Grand Canyon is improved by having my middle son posed in front of it.

At the Grand Canyon Railway Station;

In a land where dinosaurs once roamed;

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You can find dinosaurs for tourists without spending big bucks to visit Jurassic World.

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Don’t worry.  The Princess is the scariest dino running with this pack.  That goofasaurus rex is going to regret that nose-bump to the back of the head.

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In the end, she ate every last one.

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But my kiddos hatched a replacement, so they are not personally responsible for the re-extinction of the dinosaurs.

Appreciating nature;

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Posing with dead nature.

Posing with living nature, including wild and feral cousins, is also fun.

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Filipino nature and wild and feral Filipino cousins.

And we have allowed ourselves to have fun along the way.

But children grow up and begin to have their own lives.  They get jobs.  They learn to drive.  And we have to fearfully accept the consequences of the monsters we have probably created.

As I continue trudging down the road of life, I am somewhat weary because I am old.  My bones have a lot of walking-around mileage on them.  My heart has a limited number of beats remaining.  But my biggest regret is… you can only go back and walk the path again through memory and old pictures.  Time and I march onward.

 

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Filed under autobiography, commentary, compassion, daughters, family, feeling sorry for myself, goofiness, humor, kids, photos

Truthfully…

Truthfully… for a fiction writer, a humorist, a former school teacher of junior-high-aged kids, telling the truth is hard.  But in this post I intend to try it, and I will see if I can stand the castor-oil flavor of it on my tongue.

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  • The simple truth is, I rarely tell the unvarnished truth.  And I firmly believe I am not alone in this.
  • Yesterday I battled pirates.  (While this is not literally true, it is metaphorically true.)  They were the scurvy scum o’ the Bank-o’-Merricka Pirates who are suing me for over ten thousand dollars despite my efforts of the last two years to settle 40 thousand dollars worth of credit card debt.
  • I hired a lawyer, but in spite of what he told me, I expect to lose the lawsuit and be wiped out financially.  I also believe Donald Trump will win as President.
  • I am a pessimist.  And it helps me through life.  I am always prepared for the worst, and I can only be surprised by happy and pleasant surprises.
  • My son in the Marines has developed an interest in survivalist gear and chaos-contingency plans.  We are now apparently preparing for the coming zombie apocalypse.
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  • I like to draw nudes.  I have drawn them from real-life models who were paid for their participation.  But no bad things happened.  It was all done with professional integrity even though I am an amateur artist.  Chaperones were a part of every session.
  • In high school I identified as a Republican like my father.  In college I became a Democrat (Thanks, Richard Nixon) and voted for Jimmy Carter.  I argued with my father for eight years of Ronald Reagan and four years of George H.W. Bush.
  • My father has now voted for Barack Obama twice and will vote for Hillary this fall if he is still able.  We spent most of our conversations this summer exchanging “Can you believe its?” about Donald Trump.
  • Blue Dawn
  • I have been collecting pictures of sunrises for three years now.  I stole the idea from my childhood friend who now lives in Florida and takes beautiful ocean sunrise pictures over the Atlantic.  But I do it because I know I don’t have many more sunrises to go.  I have six incurable diseases, including diabetes, hypertension, and COPD.  I could go “BOOM! …dead” at any given moment.  I believe in savoring it while I have it.
  • I was sexually assaulted when I was ten years old.  I can only tell you this particular truth because the man who assaulted me and inflicted physical and emotional pain on me is now dead.  It is liberating to be able to say that.  But I regret forty years’ worth of treating it is a terrible secret that I could never tell anyone.
  • Telling that last truth made me cry.  Now you know why telling the truth is not easy.
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  • I really do love and admire all things having to do with Disney.  And when I was young, I really did want to find a picture of Annette naked.  There was no internet back then.  That quest helped me learn to draw the human form.  I know how bad that sounds… but, hey, I was a normal boy in many ways.  And I don’t draw her naked any more.
  • Finally, I have to say… in all honesty… I don’t know for sure that everything I have told you today is absolutely true.  Truth is a perception, even an opinion.  And I may be wrong about the facts as I know them.  The human mind works in mysterious ways.  I sometimes think I may simply be bedbug crazy.
  • (P.S.) Bedbugs are insects with very limited intelligence.  They cannot, in fact, be crazy or insane.  Their little brains are not complicated enough for that.  But it is a metaphor, and metaphors can be more truthful than literal statements.

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A Day for Battling Monsters

Long John Silver

Today I must see a lawyer about preventing Bank of America from taking all the money in my accounts and seizing some of my non-exempt assets… which may or may not include my house and car.  And all of this basically for unpaid interest payments.  Yes, I had the account maxed out for a few years, paying only minimums.  So I have basically paid back more  money than I spent, but they intend to collect more than merely the unpaid amount.  The lawyer I am going to consult says they are gambling that I won’t hire a lawyer and fight it.  So he is either going to be a great help, or another bloodsucker draining my resources.  We shall have to see.  But in this modern world where everything is about debt… debt they don’t really want you to pay off, sometimes you have to roll up your pant legs and wade through the sea of shallow cow poop.  If I fail to win this fight, I may end up bankrupt and homeless, so it is pretty important that I take on the beast.  It will be something more to laugh about in any case… in the future when the wounds heal.

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Stardusters… Canto Six

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Canto Six – The Tadpole Nesting Quarters

Unlike the other tadpoles, Davalon put on clothing all over his body as they returned to their sleeping chambers and assigned areas.  Alden and Gracie Morrell also dressed, of course, but they weren’t Tellerons whose skin needed to stay moist and open to the mists.  Drying out was bad for Telleron health.  Still, when they saw Davalon put on his cadet uniform, Tanith, Brekka, Menolly, and George Jetson all found their Mickey Mouse Club jackets and put them on.  Naked otherwise, but covered on their upper torsos.

“So, Dav,” asked Menolly, “What was it really like to live on the Planet Earth?”

“I don’t think I can tell you what it was really like.  I was only there for a couple of weeks.  That isn’t long enough to really know.  You should ask my new mom and dad.”

The little green faces all turned to Alden and Gracie.

“Well, I only lived there for forty years,” said Alden.  “I don’t think that is long enough, either, to really know.”

“Oh, you old fuddy-duddy!” said Gracie.  “You kids can ask me.  Go ahead, ask me anything.”

“Tell us about sunshine,” said Tanith.  She was the prettiest of the Telleron girls, as far as Davalon was concerned, even though, as a nest-mate and daughter of Xiar, she was technically his sister.  For Tellerons incest had never really been a “thing”.

“Ah, sunshine,” said Gracie with a twinkle in her eye, “it was yellow and warm and… gorgeous.  You could bathe in it.  It made you feel loved by God.”

“Until the UV rays cooked your skin and gave you bright red sunburn,” added Alden.

“Yes, well… there was that,” admitted Gracie.  “But I always loved sunny days, and the bright blue of the Iowa sky.  Oh, and sunsets… sunsets were beautiful in ways that are hard to describe.”

“And rainy days,” said Alden, “dark and overcast with thunder and lightning rumbling on the horizon.”

“Ah, you’re just being an old poop,” said Gracie with a frown.

“No, I mean it.  I’m a farmer, remember?  A farmer needs the rain.  And it cools things off… and rainbows.  You remember rainbows, Gracie?”

“Ah, yes.”

“But,” said Brekka sadly, “you both gave those things up to live in space with us.”

“Yes,” said Menolly.  “Will you miss those things?”

Alden looked at Gracie, and they both nodded to each other.  Davalon could feel the sadness.  And that in itself was something new.  Before they had met Earth people, Tellerons had not really known strong emotions.  Tadpoles were programmed while still suspended in their gelatinous egg sacs with years’ worth of technical knowledge, math, and science.  But nowhere in their training had they ever learned how to love, or laugh, or have empathy, or feel remorse.  Those things had come from Earther TV broadcasts and actual contact with human beings.  It was hard to be around human beings and not get a bit infected with human emotions.

“We’ll experience those things if we colonize a planet,” said George Jetson.  “There could be sunshine and rainbows on Galtorr Prime.”

That brought smiles to every little green face, even Davalon’s.

“But we hear that Galtorr Prime is a very dangerous place,” said Gracie.  The little-girl twinkle was gone from her eye, replaced by a sad longing, a remembered pain.

“Yes,” said Menolly, “I’m scared of Galtorrians.  They eat meat, and would eat us if they catch us.”

“That would not be so nice,” said Brekka.

Gracie, in the frilly dress she had put on, moved to put an arm around each of the two female tadpoles.  She looked like Shirley Temple to Davalon, the girl in that old black and white movie with the orphans that needed comforting.  Was it Animal Crackers?  Or was that a Marx Brothers’ movie?  Dav didn’t remember.

“Maybe we should be brave explorers and go down there to find things out,” said George Jetson.  “We could be like Davalon, and help out our entire race.”

“That’s not wise,” warned Davalon.  “We could get into trouble we could not get out of.”

“You could be our leader, Dav,” said Tanith.  “We have faith in you.”

Davalon didn’t like the fact that they were all warming to the idea so quickly.  It was a scarier world than Earth.  They stood to lose everything they had gained from the Earth adventure.

“None of us know how to pilot a Golden Wing,” warned Alden.  “And we can’t all stow away on the adults’ missions.”

“I was programmed with pilot skills,” said George Jetson.  “And you and Gracie are really adults, just in child bodies.”

“I think they may have a good idea here,” said Gracie to Alden.  “If we are going to be star-explorers, we need to start somewhere.”

To Davalon’s utter horror, it was decided at that moment.  There would be a secret tadpole mission to the surface of Galtorr Prime.

*****

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There you have it, Canto Six of the extremely alien-based goofy sequel to Catch a Falling Star that I call Stardusters and Space Lizards. I would apologize for inflicting it upon you, but the truth is, I really like it.   I did a good job of telling what really happened… um, errr…  Well, I mean, telling it just as I once imagined it.

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The Story Continues…

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I find myself caught up in the story once again.  Netflix put a new monster-movie series out there with eight episodes starring a Dungeons & Dragons-playing group of middle school kids, a psychically powerful girl-experiment named Eleven, an assortment of dysfunctional adults, star-crossed teen romantics to use as potential monster food, and a creepy mouth-headed monster from the “upside down” to eat them all.  How could I not binge-watch such a thing?

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This binge-watching addiction comes at a time when I have other things on my mind.  My aging parents are in poor health and have a critical doctor’s visit coming up this week.  Bank of America has decided to experiment on me to see what happens if they sue me for the total amount of my debt, plus court costs, plus additional fees for betraying them by going to Wells Fargo, plus additional additional fees just because they don’t like me and think I’m ugly.  I am awaiting a call from a potential lawyer-advocate to help me even as I am writing this.  I am also planning how to live without money until the total is payed off in garnished pension, seized property and bank accounts, and whatever other way they can squeeze more money out of me.  Some monsters are all mouth.   This of course comes after I completed a program of debt resolution and paid off all my other creditors.  When I called Bank of America, they didn’t seem to know what happened to the debt, so they did not participate in that.   Were they plotting evil, or just that stupid?  Such questions go into the making of a monster.  Perhaps a monster movie television series on Netflix was precisely what I needed.

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The only episode I haven’t watched yet is the last installment.  Potentially the monster gets its comeuppance.  That’s what the lawyer, a consumer rights attorney, promised me in his letter.  It also is what the kids in Stranger Things are promising as they prepare to enter the monster’s lair.

Why do I need to see the ending of the story so badly?  Because when we reach the end of our life course, the happy ending, in real life, does not overcome death and endings.  We live our time on Earth, reach the end, and then we are no more.  Only the story continues.  New lives and new adventures begin, only to proceed relentlessly to their ending.  Even when the human race’s story comes to end and there is no more life on Earth, the story continues.  You have to be caught up in that.  There is no other choice.  The things you dread stalk you and eventually catch you, and the happy ending is bound up in how you handle it along the way.

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