The New Year: 2016

By REV JIM PURCELL

As this upcoming year represents my half-century mark, it is a time to take stock.

Am I where I thought I would be, doing what I thought I would be doing? Are there people in my life whom I thought would still be here? Am I living in that awesome place where I thought I would be at this age so long ago?

Well, as that list goes, I am not looking too badly. Not shabby at all. But, life didn't go the way I expected to get here, and most of my big plans for myself fell apart at one time or another. So, while I may be in that space, that place, where I thought I would be -- I took the strangest route I could have imagined.

Isn't that what life is anyway? Like the old saying goes: Men make plans and God laughs. Well, with me, he must have been rolling on the floor. So, why couldn't I have just taken the wide, easy path to where I am now? Why did it have to be so damn hard?

Well, adversity builds character, real character. When things get hard and times are trying, those are the moments when people learn empathy, forgiveness and real determination. No, it is not the kind of determination that Rocky showed against Draco in the montage scenes of Rocky IV. It is not the kind of determination to climb K2 or Mount Everest. Sometimes, the hardest thing to do for someone is to lose something they loved and treasured and then just wake up the next morning and get out of bed.

You know, as time clicks by, I have had a few friends and loved ones leave this world. Of course, being at about the same age, there are some of these friends and loved ones who died young. I noticed, though, that something my friends who passed early have in common is that they smoked and drank to excess. They lived life badly, being angry or scornful. They refused to change inwardly from their youth, and growing old and living crazy is not a match made in heaven. Not finding peace with yourself and living healthy will send you to heaven, for sure, but dying because of something like smoking too much is just prolonged suicide.  Someone is just biding their time, in that case, to leave this world as soon as they case.

For the past three years I have been working hard on my recovery from alcohol and anger, both of which consumed me for many years. I believed I was unfairly cheated, robbed of things that were precious to me. Well, there is something else about life we each learn at some point or other: It isn't fair, not in this world. Not yet. But, the knack to living is being able to go on and still search for whatever makes us happy.

More than money or position, land or jobs I always wanted peace and peace of mind. It has been a successful life in that I have found my piece of peace. I do not wish to to great things anymore, and while I like to work no one could characterize me as ambitious anymore. I learned that it is better to be at peace with one's self and their surroundings than to be fighting for the top spot.

In the end, somehow I have always knew, that we will not judge ourselves on how much money is in the bank, how big the car was, or how grand one's house was. In the end, what we each will judge ourselves is how we lived our lives, what we learned from those lives and how much peace we were each able to find in our hearts. Don't get me wrong -- big houses and cars are great. Yet, they are only things, which rust and breakdown and they do not shine forever. Only the human spirit shines for ever, and making that spirit brighter will shine forever.

Happy 2016 for everyone who visits the Chronicles, enjoy the year and blessings to you and yours.

Meds, Psychiatric Disorders and PTSD: A Love Story

By REV. JIM PURCELL, MPS

I have PTSD, Depression and am in recovery from alcohol. I know these things have a stigma attached to them. But, nothing is going to get solved by being 'in the closet' about issues like these, not for me or anyone else suffering with such disorders.

Why am I writing this? Because living with psychiatric disorders can be very difficult and secrecy about ongoing issues can be a terrible way to live. But, it is how some people live, and walking around feeling bad and carrying around the 'secret' of one's situation is nonsense; it damages the mind and the spirit.

On job applications from sea to shining sea there are questions about one's psychiatric past. And, most people do not hire people who have these kinds of problems, let's face it. Still, these are disorders -- like a broken knee or bad back,

There are all kinds of Right Wing politicians who say people on Public Support and Social Security should 'get a job.' I agree, but just where are people with these issues going to work? If society wants these people to work then there is going to need to be a change of the tide, so to speak, and psychiatric disorders and diseases are going to have to be de-stigmatized. There is really no way around it. Either people with psychiatric disorders (and there is no short supply of such people) are going to have to be given incentives to work or on Public Support and Social Security these people will stay.

You know, Republicans are swell for pointing out problems but fixing them is usually not something that gets attention at all times. In the first place, debacles like the North American Free Trade Agreement sent jobs away from the country by the millions. I am ashamed to say it was a Democrat, President Bill Clinton who presided over the last act of that legislation. I suppose that makes him the one who gave the eulogy to the American worker. Nevertheless, NAFTA was legislation that was crafted throughout the Reagan and Bush 1 administrations.

It's not politics that need to change where it involves re-employment and acceptance of people with psychiatric disorders -- it is people that need to change. It is attitudes that have to change.

Psychiatric medications and treatment are in an era wherein an amazing amount of good is being done for people, making them able to function and thrive in ways that were impossible just 20 years ago. But, what is the practicality of treatment and stabilization of those living with disorders if opportunity is blocked to them in the workplace? Where is society getting a pay-off, so to speak, if old standards and old notions bar recovering people from having a career?

For there to be full employment for people with psychiatric disorders there has to be a way for them to re-enter the job market with an expectation of success. Without this, Public Support and Social Security will remain the primary way these people live: no one wants this, including those people being treated for psychiatric disorders.

It is hard, on a personal level, going through one's life with challenges brought upon one by psychiatric disorders. Yet, hope is found on many fronts medically, therapeutically. Still, society has closed so many doors to people recovering from their issues that the metaphorical locked door to employment these people encounter can seem to be 50-feet high and 25-feet wide.

To grow as a culture, to grow economically, society has to create an avenue for recovering people to re-enter the work-a-day world. What does that look? I have no idea, to be honest. But, knowing there is a problem and trying to do something about it is the beginning of solving it.

I can say that trying to be supportive of someone with a psychiatric condition can be hard, and this can be attested to, no doubt, by my beautiful daughter, Amanda, whom I owe so very much to for her loving kindness. I can say that she was my rock through some terrible storms. This is not to say things are always smooth sailing in her being able to understand me and those things I am facing. But, she has taken that journey with me and put up with a great deal. I work and live with the idea that there is someone in my corner in what can be a very cold world.

I am grateful to my boss, who took a chance on someone like me, and to my friends for supporting not only my recovery from alcohol but also my recovery from mental disorders. Without these, I too would be another discarded member of society, cut adrift because of what was called "madness" not all that long ago.

Today, I fight not only for myself, but to honor those who have invested so much into me, including the host of wonderful doctors, psychologists and health care professionals who have worked so diligently with me.

Changing a human heart is perhaps the most improbable act of all, yet the journey of a million miles begins with but a simple step.

Veterans and joblessness are sometimes hand-in-hand

By REV. JIM PURCELL, MPS

When a young man or woman finishes their physicals and sign into one of the Armed Forces, they are giving the military a blank check. The blank check given to our republic goes up to and including the very lives of our soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines.

What is it that America owes is active duty, Reserve, veterans or those retired from the military. Being one of those veterans, I will say each of us owes our veterans a lot.

Yet, there are many veterans who return changed from their service to our nation, and saying that someone can healed entirely is too ambitious a sentiment. People change with experiences, particularly those who have seen combat.

Alcoholism and drug addiction happen in great numbers within the veteran community of our nation. What is to blame? Well, it can be a lot of things. I am no doctor so I will not try to practice medicine. However, it is a fact that alcoholism and drug addiction are rampant within veteran populations in this country. Consequently, finding at-risk veterans with troubled pasts and troubled driving records, perhaps even arrests or imprisonment in their backgrounds is not a rare occurrence.

For those who cheer on veterans in parades, on television or at the half-time of football games -- the same veterans that one may see shining bright against the sky with medals and ribbons, highly shined shoes and ornate uniforms are still the same thing as those veterans who are men and women who have, by poor choices and troubled minds, illnesses and injuries, become those grizzled homeless that inhabit our cities.

It is impossible to support those young men and women who serve our country today and not pay homage to those who have returned to the 'world' from their service, or who served in other eras, other wars, other campaigns.

What is the cure: None. But a great way to start is by hiring veterans. Understanding that, for veterans to leave at-risk situations in their lives (living on the streets or in cars, in the woods, or couch surfing), someone has to give them a chance; Not a hand-out but help up.

Give a man or woman back a job and they will be rewarded with self-respect and confidence. Armed with these things and hope, people can move mountains.

So, I am speaking to hiring professionals, leaders of companies and employment specialists and just plain old folks. Veterans wrote a blank check for our nation during their service. I suggest that the idea of giving veterans back a paycheck with a living wage, and a sense of dignity is what all of us owe them.

Abuse and Addiction to Drugs such as Pain Killers, Alcohol and Food

 

 

By David H. Kerr, March 16, 2014

 

Kathleen O'Brien, writer for The Star-Ledger has summarized the National Safety Council's report on addiction and overdose stating that:

 

"Accidental poisonings — chiefly drug and alcohol overdoses — have supplanted motor vehicle crashes as the biggest cause of unintentional death in New Jersey, according to the latest report by the National Safety Council."  See her report below printed in the Ledger on March 14.^th."

With our growing "pain sensitive" culture, addictive drugs continue to be promoted as a palliative to reduce or to extinguish the pain. One problem solved and another more serious problem created.  Make sense? Not to me. 

"In looking at the history of substance abuse over thousands of years, here’s a quote that seems applicable: "It's been my experience, Langford, that the past always has a way of returning. Those who don't learn, or can't remember it, are doomed to repeat it." ―Steve Berry,The Charlemagne Pursuit

We've been here before.  Morphine was the high potency legal drug until 1898 when heroin was distilled from morphine as a more potent opiate painkiller.  With millions of Americans using these drugs, we soon noticed the harm they caused. As a result, we passed a law regulating and taxing the importation and distribution of opiates and coca products in 1914 called "The Harrison Narcotics Act."

The Harrison Narcotics Tax Act (Ch. 1, 38 Stat. 785) was a United States federal law that regulated and taxed the production, importation, and distribution of opiates and coca products. The act was proposed by Representative Francis Burton Harrison of New York and was approved on December 17, 1914.^[1][2]

"An Act to provide for the registration of, with collectors of internal revenue, and to impose a special tax on all persons who produce, import, manufacture, compound, deal in, dispense, sell, distribute, or give away opium or coca leaves, their salts, derivatives, or preparations, and for other purposes." The courts interpreted this to mean that physicians could prescribe narcotics to patients in the course of normal treatment, but not for the treatment of addiction.

Although technically illegal for purposes of distribution and use, the distribution, sale and use of cocaine was still legal for registered companies and individuals.

While heroin was first controlled in the US in 1914, it continued to be used for medicinal purposes. In 1924 though, Congress made the production and sale of heroin illegal, due to obvious harsh health consequences resulting from its continued and excessive use and abuse causing addiction and death.

Now we are in that same addiction limbo that defined our culture in the early 1900's. We now know that there are millions of people in our country born with the genetic disposition for addiction and if we flaunt legally prescribed addictive medicines in front of them day after day, it's most likely that they will succumb to their disease.  They will continually seek and take what is prescribed for their pain, regardless of the harmful consequences from their overuse prompted by their disease.  Then they will take more and more until they run out of prescription renewals and will continue their habit with illegal heroin – usually injected.  This is the definition of addiction and this is what is going on now.  It is exactly what happened in the late 1800's and early 1900's. Based just on media reports, this is a dangerous pattern with very serious consequences including addiction and death.

In my post to nj.com, September 20, 2010 below, "A Beginning Solution to the Burgeoning Problem of Prescription Drug Abuse and Addiction," I spoke about

"A new online tracking system approved by State Health Regulations on August 2010.  This new system would appear to help pharmacists and physicians fight the growing problems of prescription drug abuse. The new system also should prove helpful for law enforcement agencies fighting drug dealers who obtain prescription pain killers to sell for profits."

New Jersey's Prescription Monitoring Program appears to have been implemented just recently on March 1, 2014.  Here is the summary of the law:

For too many New Jerseyans, addiction begins in the medicine cabinet.  Please be advised that beginning March 1, 2014, pharmacies will be required to report information to the NJPMP on a weekly basis using the ASAP 4.2 format. However, in order to help facilitate any software conversion that may be necessary, the NJPMP will continue to accept submissions using the ASAP 4.0, 4.1/2009 format until September 1, 2014

The New Jersey Prescription Monitoring Program (NJPMP) is an important component of the New Jersey Division of Consumer Affairs' initiative to halt the abuse and diversion of prescription drugs.

Established pursuant to N.J.S.A. 45:1-45 et. seq., the NJPMP is a statewide database that collects prescription data on Controlled Dangerous Substances (CDS) and Human Growth Hormone (HGH) dispensed in outpatient settings in New Jersey, and by out-of-state pharmacies dispensing into New Jersey. Pharmacies are required to submit this data at least twice per month.

In a recent report in the Ledger – see below:

"Purdue Pharma, the maker of OxyContin, says it has completed testing of an abuse-resistant version of the painkiller hydrocodone, a surprise development that could derail sales of the recently introduced Zohydro, a powerful pain medication that has been heavily criticized for lacking such safeguards."  Zohydro is an addictive medicine.

Time will tell if Purdue's new "abuse-resistant" and non-addictive painkiller will work but it would be a real achievement if we could develop a non-addictive painkiller.  However, as long as there are addictive painkiller's available that will "get the patient high," most people will likely stick with the product that makes them happy, gets them feeling "high" as well as reducing their pain.

Here's what will happen if history is a predictor: People in pain or not in pain will pursue the legal "painkiller" that gets them high and that continues to make them feel good. Heroin use and abuse will accelerate since it fills the bill, and it will become a major problem for our society. It has the best track record for getting people mellow or stoned and out of pain as well as seriously addicted.

Our culture seems to be in a pleasure seeking mode and people tend to get uppity when you try to tell them what they shouldn't put into their bodies.  "I'll take what I want and no law can stop me.  It's my right as a citizen of this free US of A."  That sounds fine until someone shows that he or she doesn't have the judgment to know "when to say when."  This is not so uncommon considering the millions of Americans who have ignored their disease and become out of control alcoholics and addicts.  Now someone's innocent child is killed in an auto accident as a result of an over drugged driver.  My mom would use this phrase: "Your liberty ends where my nose begins."  A person over medicated and driving erratically down the highway has no right to hurt or kill others.  If the excessive medication, or drugs or alcohol puts others at risk, the law must step in to clarify the boundaries.  Unfortunately the disease of addiction knows no such boundaries and the disease can and has hurt self and others.

We all must be alert to the signs of the disease of alcohol, drug and food addiction and we can keep it simple: increasing use and overuse and abuse of these substances plus the genetic disposition for addiction will define your potential as an addict – food, drink or drugs.  Awareness, control and moderation are three watchwords for preventing this slow creeping disease that often won't show its destructive face for years and even decades but when it does, it may be too late.

Never mind what's your “right.”  This is the rationalization I've heard from many an addict.  Take a look at your own substance use over time.  Is it increasing, little by little?  Awareness, moderation or total abstinence may set a safe path for you to remain functional and reasonably happy and safe living with your disease.

 

The Grass Can Be Greener Right Damn Now

Every now and again, I think about writing a column from my 'Bad Old Days,' because I sure learned a hell of a lot. But, like the urge to have a cup of coffee or a cigarette, it passes.

This is a Brave New World now, absolutely removed from whatever I was before my recovery began in earnest during August, 2013. Because recovery means giving up some parts of one's life that injured them, that led them to whatever addiction they ended up supporting. Some people who have not experienced addiction will opine it as they will, talking about 'willpower' and 'bad character' by addicts in recovery: I have two words for those detractors and the last word of that phrase ends in "...you."

In my case, my entire life needed giving up: I had bad friends, bad colleagues, a toxic profession, an alcohol-splashed hometown and I had just gotten finished being picked apart by the woman I had shared my life with for six years -- and whatever was left the one after that spent up real quick like. But -- no good as they were, I picked them. Still, oh boy, was I angry...and for years. I built my whole life being a self-made man and between two stray alley cats whatever I had was up in smoke. Goes to show you, nothing is forever and choose wisely when it comes to your bunkmate or it will -- it will -- bite you right in the ass.

If it is possible, I drank even more than usual about all my shit luck, until I ended on the very bottom of the food chain. I think degenerate gambling addicts and horse thieves even ranked above me -- and that's hard to sink below that. Nevertheless, where there is a will, there is a way.

Of all the things I have learned, I know this one for sure: I don't want to live someplace with young people around. I don't understand them and don't have the least inclination to try anymore. I want to be around people my age and try and pretend as best I can it is still 1985 in some gated senior community. This era and this generation are for the birds.

Hey, I come down on this era a lot because I am not really a part of mainstream culture anymore. It's a lot of work giving a damn about what the new widget is out or figuring out how far pants should be worn below a man's ass.

Recovery taught me that life is too short and important to waste one single moment of it on doing something I don't want to do, or beating my head against a wall for no reason. Likewise, living in a world of young people today just sucks. I mean, they live with their parents forever, they are socially awkward because of all the computer use they do, they are just different from my day. God bless them and keep them...but I would like them the hell off my lawn and not living near me. Young people make a lot of noise anyway. Screw that.

The emphasis really needs to be positive. It is the difference between running from something or running to something. I want to run toward continued recovery, good health, very little stress, occasional tickets for the symphony, the museums, a nice ballgame or a play here or there. All this living at the computer is no life really. People don't acquire culture or taste banging away on a keyboard, and that is really missing these days.

It is stressful being around people who have few manners, scruples or traditional sensibility. It's work. Some people want to put it in and I say 'good for you,' but I don't.

If nothing else, recovery taught me to be selfish. I care first and foremost about my recovery from alcohol addiction, everything else has to become second or I will end up in the same gutter I just crawled out of in Keansburg, New Jersey -- the greasy armpit of the Jersey Shore. I had to forget old animosities -- not for the sake of the motherless...people...who screwed me in the past -- but for me. I don't want to carry their lying, back-stabbing weight around in my head anymore. For the most part, I have done it. If nothing else, I evicted quite a few ghostly vagrants from my head. Lots of progress.

No one can really enjoy themselves thinking of the Bad Old Days, or living in the past. So, I just gave it up like I did red meat and dairy. I like my fun and the people in my life now. So, the 'Angry Jim' personality had to take a slow ride to the vet's office to get put down. It's OK, it was time and then some.

I had to concentrate on the positive. And, it has worked pretty well. People who know me would never know I was a cynical pain in the ass just last year. Further, my plan is for my family and friends now never to see that ugly side to me again -- or me for that matter. Hey, no one lives a perfect life. Shit happens. If you did something stupid, pick yourself up and just don't do it again. Now forgiving yourself for indulging in nonsense -- that takes a little more time.

I was screwed, blued and tattooed financially by not one but two broads I was associated with a couple years ago now. During that terrible time, I was a dope, and these girls took me like Grant took Richmond and bled me like a vampire bat does a milking cow for dinner. Well, money is only money...but more important than money is someone's time: Once time is gone, it stays gone. It's the most valuable commodity we each have. I'm not wasting mine, and haven't for a while now.

I look at those sunsets now. I am as healthy as I can be in my condition and have lost 30 pounds responsibly in the last few months. And, my life is as complete as it gets for anyone right now. Do I miss the money, my house, my dog and my parking spot at my Freehold, NJ condo? Not really. Not anymore. Life can feel wonderful again without a lot of trappings. Meanwhile, that former life of mine was as rotten as rat laying in a port-a-john: no wonder I drank. All anyone has to do is want to change. I did and I love the result. Those years that flipped by when I was lost in my disease...that is gone. If someone remembers it from my life back then they don't have a lot to do. Anyway, there is an old saying about "people, places and things" when it comes to folks in recovery, and it goes something like this -- lose them.

Think about it...sometimes dropping into a new life, and dropping out of the old one can give you a new perspective, a whole new lease on life. Just remember, though, those old commitments are there until they get cleared up and your responsibilities get honored; then and only then can you (or me, in my case) get rid of them.

What it all really comes down to, though, is that the grass can be greener by you or me just saying it's time to stop laying so much fertilizer down beneath our feet. Well, now that I have dazzled you with my collection of Civil War and farming metaphors, I guess I can call it a night.

As always, thanks for stopping by and...seeya later...alligators.

Politics is politics, no matter where you go

Corruption in office is nothing new, ask the Romans

There are a score of cynics who know vague generalities about Jersey politics. Well, I don’t know generalities, I know a lot of details about local, county and state politics from a few years ago. Politics was partly my living and it was ugly work.

You know, I’m retired now and the last thing I need is some BS that comes with naming names about things. But, in New Jersey, “Pay for Play,” quid pro quo, whatever you want to call it, is an everyday part of life for our elected and appointed folks. And, there are basically very, very few exceptions.

 

Ironically, the exceptions to that rule are generally wealthy candidates who do not need to make anyone else’s money or gain their living off politics. So, if they become candidates and do not win it is not a matter of life or death with them financially. But, for your economically challenged candidates or young people starting out -- well, they have to make their money somewhere and if they play it by the rules it sure won’t be in government. So, they have to supplement their incomes. And, how do they do it? They have influence in elected office and use that to make their dime. It’s done every day -- it’s done in your town and probably by office holders you think are ‘above reproach’ well, they’re not.

 

Sure, Democrats and Republicans spout promises and such. But, Democrat, Republican, Green or Independent, a candidate is not truly running for the good of the people unless they have already made their fortune somewhere else. If they have, then they can take ideology seriously because they don’t need to produce a buck from using their influence; it's as simple and as hard as that. I can’t tell you how many broke-ass, broke-down sons of guns I have seen sworn-in without a dime in their pocket yet -- lo’ and behold three or four years later -- they are someone’s vice president of something or they had become someone’s “contractor” for whatever. And, why? Yeah, they sold out. They sold you out, Mr. and Mrs. America.

 

However, very often, Americans think they know their elected officials whether they are local, county, state or national. You feel this because of the campaigning and the literature, television commercials, Internet ads...you get it. When they make public appearances, they’re all smiles and they make sure to hang out at local spots once every couple of months. Your office holder talks lofty ideals and talks about the horror of the other party, but 'they'll keep you safe from all that.' Ordinary people start feeling important because they are under the impression they are friends with the lawmaker. And, you’re getting played for suckers. Politicians are actors playing on a stage, you’re the audience and Corporate America is the producer of the show.

 

I have been in the heads of a lot of politicians: I ran press operations for quite a few candidates, Republican and Democrat alike. Frequently, I have seen freshmen candidates enter the process as determined, idealistic people only to see them become the same low-life scum as all the rest of them in the span of one short term. Were there exceptions? A few, but just a few.

 

Oh, and if Conservatives think Republicans are any better than Democrats, they’re nuts.  In fact, in my experience, Republicans are at least as greedy as Democrats but often much more. No one is actually pure and chaste and all that crap. They womanize (frequently with their staff); make backroom deals to feather their own nest, help idiot relatives with finding work, make sure their buddies get nice government contracts and that their campaign contributors or employers get treated real nice -- courtesy of you and me. Oh, once in a while they work--sorta. And, when they work, ladies and gentlemen, they sure as hell don’t work hard.

 

Politicians hide beneath a thin veneer of respectability and depend on you buying their crap, which you do. After scandals are uncovered, in the face of all common sense and logic, you will ‘stand by your official’ because you’re a sap. In politics, largely speaking, if you’re accused of something by a legitimate newspaper, there has been a lot of good research into it. Yeah, and I’m not talking about Glenn Beck or Sean Hannity or any of that Fox nonsense. I mean real publications like the Star-Ledger, New York Times, Daily News, etc.

The flag is just a background for most politicians

“The Media” isn’t out to get anyone, that is the war cry of the guilty. When the United States was founded the Press was granted a peculiar and necessary role in civic affairs in this country; they are watchdogs who have a fundamentally adversarial relationship to government and police institutions. It is their job to be an informal check or safeguard against tyranny. Of course, recently, anyone has been able to call themselves a journalist, from Entertainment Tonight to AOL’s PATCH.com. Real journalism takes place in serious institutions and not the Huffington Post or its satellites. If I want to find out about who’s had a nose job recently, I will check the Huffington Post. If I want news, I’ll check the Daily News. Internet news generally sucks, with notable exceptions, and that is a bad thing.

 

Real newspapers were (and to some extent still are) the only thing between you and total and complete ignorance about what is happening in the halls of power in your town and in the White House. When politicians get caught with their hands in the metaphoric cookie jar the first thing they say is “...there goes the Liberal Media again.” BS. Your buddy the ‘state legislator’ got caught red-handed at something and you’re dumb enough to buy into his ‘the press are out to get me...’ argument. So, next election, you put his sign on your lawn and come home early to vote for him. Please, let me find a bucket because I can lose lunch over that nonsense.

 

I don’t vote anymore, unless the AARP puts something out and then I vote however they say. Why? Because I am old and my interests are basically aligned with their mission. I don’t care about anything else because it’s all crooked...down to the core. AARP aren't 'good guys' orwhatever -- they just happen to advocate for the things I need.

 

In Jersey, like in any number of pissant towns, counties and states, there are all kinds of corrupt crap happening all the time. Only, in Jersey and a few other places, it’s shoved right into the voters’ faces and keeps happening because the electorate here is as dumb as a bag of hammers and apparently doesn’t mind. Jersey voters are the blindest people who ever had the furniture rearranged on them, but they love bumping into furniture, I guess.

 

I’m aware of every kind of vile sin by serving politicians, from bold-faced corruption, to racketeering, graft, pay-for-play, drunk driving, extortion, eluding the police, interfering with a police officer doing their duty, adultery, rape, assault, tax evasion, blackmail, drug and alcohol abuse, forgery, misusing government property, and targeting public and private enemies with official actions, sanctions and police intervention. If you think cops aren't the muscle behind politicians that appoint their bosses and negotiate their contracts, you'd be wrong again.

 

And, there are things I have heard from reliable people that are much worse done by some of these bastards. I have seen Democrats do it, and Republicans (a whole lot of them). These were not isolated incidents, Mr. and Mrs. America -- this was just the way business is done. It’s sickening and filthy and I actually helped some of those people get re-elected, sometimes having first-hand knowledge of the level of their depravity because I was paid and needed to support my house. And, it stained my soul black for doing it. Sadly, most of those scumbags are still in office as I write this.

 

And, these are the exact same people you are mewling over with the signs and ridiculous public love. These are “your buddies” that know you by your first name. Hey, whatever.

 

If you want to really get something done in government, don’t contact your elected official. Find the law or architectural firm that supported that office-holder’s campaign with the biggest donations, then find the partner that authorized the donation. Tell that lawyer or engineer you want your damn street light fixed. He or she can put in a call to their “guy” or “gal” and that light will be fixed by the end of the week. But, if you do it by the book, it may take you months or years. The bureaucracy is for some of the people, not all of them.

 

People come here and check my column from the old life, and I guess they wonder if I am going to ever mouth off about them. No, I’m not. I am retired and want to fade away into the Florida sun like so many other seniors, without getting bothered by any offended politicians or their rabid followers (morons). But, there is nothing wrong with lifting the curtain for a few minutes to try and tell the kindly folks at home about what lies behind it.

 

A few of you might actually think there might be something in what I said and some will think I’m a some crazy old coot. And, both would be correct, but I’m sure as hell telling the truth that I know.

 

As always, I wish everyone the best and thank you for stopping by and spending a few minutes. This was harsh -- yes. But, sometimes, the truth is hard and someone just has to say it -- for themselves if no one else.

 

Have a safe weekend, watch out for the snow and seeya later, alligators.

Your 50s: The New Starting Line

This says cola relieves fatigue: How about slowing down some instead?

So, you're approaching or you are in your 50s. Maybe you work, maybe you don't. Perhaps you have children, maybe you don't. You might still be married or, according to statistics, you may be divorced.

You've gotten a little older, despite the fact the world is still going full-steam ahead. And, you're working as hard, if not harder, as you did 25 years ago.

The fact is, ladies and gentlemen, the game has changed for you after your 40s are in the rearview mirror and, if you don't change some of the things you're doing, the only one who can end up a loser here is you. With little changes, for some, and bigger changes, for others, there is no reason not to have a great lifestyle and wonderful health into your later years.

My parents, Jim and Ruth, they didn't have a very wonderful retirement. Hell, by their own admission, their 50s were a nightmare. But, I can tell you this, despite the fact they were a little older and needed to change their diet a little and add some stress relief in there -- they didn't. Dad found stress relief by being a chain smoker and Mom did it by drinking too much wine or vodka. So, by the time they retired, well in their late 60s, they died of lung cancer and liver cancer, respectively. Not a very good reward for the years they put in this world; not very good at all.

Yet, they wouldn't do a single thing to help their health, or their stress, or their dispositions beyond a certain point. They kept on acting like they were 20 when they were 50, and all it led to was illness, injury and disappointment for them. To keep up with their physical needs they needed to adopt quite a few healthy elements to their life, which they never did.

Obviously, I am glad they had my brother and I. But, having one kid at 38 years old and another at 42 years old was something that really took its toll on them, and only hastened their old age and infirmity. So, they had children very late. OK, that was one bad idea my parents had for themselves.

Here are some other bad ideas my parents had: They bought a house in the suburbs that came with 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a large living and large family room, two full kitchens and a large dining room. And, they bought that house on a piece of property that was almost an acre large. Meanwhile, their commutes (both of them worked in Newark, NJ) was an hour each way. This is what they did until their mid-60s.

It made them angry. It made them short. Mom used to say that her and my father "just lived for other people." Well, I said it then and going to say it now -- they had a hell of a bad plan, alright. Their plan outright sucked.

How about living in a condo, which has a staff to tend the yard area, in a town nearby where they worked? That could have been done. Save a lot of maintenance chores on the house, a lot of costs there, and the enormous upkeep of yard work for a large lawn and backyard. Hell, we had a small forest along the side yard.

The smoking and drinking were obvious red flags. So was the way they approached their lives. They turned their lives into drudgery with a series of bad decisions that didn't have to be made to torture themselves. There is always a smarter answer than the most stressful, longest commute to physical jobs, when they are in their 50s. Come on now! Sounds like they still were putting the expectations of 20-somethings on themselves. Maybe they couldn't real deal with getting older, and I think there might have been some of that in there for both of them. Consequently, they rebelled against the inevitably by putting themselves through the impossible.

Enjoy a few sunsets: their actually awesome

I wish my Dad hadn't smoked himself dead and that Mom didn't drink herself dead. I wish they had gotten regular medical care, paid attention to their doctors, ate reasonably, took vitamins and took their medications on time and faithfully. I wish they exercised or had a "date night" every week and just had a better time. Well, I'm not doing that, folks, and you're a damn fool if that's your plan either.

I want to live as best as I can for as long as I can. I can't eat anything I want, anytime I want to: That is how I became 280 pounds. I was holding pretty steady to a 230-pound, worked out body for many, many years. Well, I got injured, I got depressed, whatever -- I got really fat. It wasn't natural. I was just acting and eating like an idiot.

I have physical problems. A lot of us do. But, somehow and some way, we can navigate those problems without turning into the Goodyear blimp. Oh, I'm not there yet. I lost 25 pounds of that whale meat I put on. And, I'm in the process of getting rid of the rest. I grew up; hopefully I grew up in time to give myself some good years ahead.

Do you know what you're retirement is going to look like? And, I'm not talking about money here. The Susie Ormonds of the world are on another site. I'm the lifestyle guy. You're retirement is going to look exactly like what you plan for, what you execute and what you are determined it will become. You can determine your life is going to suck -- well, by all means proceed. Otherwise, you can turn these years into the most wonderful of your life.

I hope you pick 'the most wonderful of your life.' Meanwhile, my ass is down in Florida first chance I get where my joints and my wallet will feel a whole lot better. As always, thanks for stopping by. I'll be seeing you later, alligators.

Bipolar: Picking Up The Pieces

I am not an expert in bipolar disorder and am certainly not a doctor. At no point did I receive training in the illness or even formal familiarization. However, in the mid-1990s, my then-wife was bipolar, and whatever I learned about bipolar, and it was a lot, was from 'living' with her.
To begin with, bipolar disorder is one characterized by extreme highs and lows where it involves emotions, moods and physical activity.

When someone "cycles," or shifts between extremely high activity and positive mood to extremely low activity and mood, there is even a change in personality. The change in personality can be so total it is amazing. However, as I understand it, some people who are bipolar cycle frequently while others do not.

Why know this? Most people are not impacted by bipolar disorder. Well, true enough. But I am speaking to those people who are and their families, friends and loved ones. Because bipolar disorder is no joke. I went through hell with my ex-wife for two years,  before I absolutely could not take it anymore and divorced her. No one wants a divorce, not ever, but it all went too far. And why? She wouldn't take her medication because she "liked the way her highs felt and wasn't going to give them up." She would explain, "I feel on top of the world when I am on an 'up-cycle,' " she said.

Maybe Mary (her name wasn't Mary, but why be vindictive?) was having a good time, but I sure as hell wasn't. And, I went to see her psychiatrist, and he explained this disorder as best he could to me to try and understand and help Mary. However, Mary was having none of it. Despite the fact she went to her psychiatrist and therapist loyally, she would not take medication for long stretches and then only take meds for a little while.

So, here's what I didn't sign up for when I married her: sexual promiscuity with other men, extreme use of drugs and alcohol, spending sprees on credit that we could not pay back, tirades and screaming, all-night 'processing feelings,' days of not leaving the couch or showering, unexplained absences for long periods and generalized insanity; every single day, no let-up. And, at that time, she exhibited no signs she wanted help or treatment at all despite the fact she openly lied to her clinicians as she received their treatment (which she would not implement at home). In Mary's case, she was deceptive to her doctors and caregivers.

Not all people afflicted with bipolar disorder are impacted as heavily by the disorder as Mary, nor are deceitful to doctors during care. But, Mary sure as hell was. And, none of that was necessary. Thank God for medical advances in the Modern Era, which possesses medication to arrest the disorder so people with it may have long and relatively normative lives. But, there is a common problem in some people effected by the disease in that they will not take their medications because they like the 'high' that comes along with it, from what I have seen in my experience.

Mary stood her ground: No meds! Well, no marriage can stand up to a partner flaunting out-of-relationship sexual liaisons in another partner's face, or spending every cent and more than they have, or coming home to find another partner 'coked up' or drunk, or sleeping for days and stinking from not showering, not working and when not constantly attacking me in one cycle, crying for forgiveness in the other.

Right out of college, where we met, Mary was a young teacher who immediately found a position in the Piscataway, New Jersey school district. She taught art. Meanwhile, I received a job as a small-town reporter out of college, but I was ambitious and eager to rise through the ranks.

Mary didn't take her medications, so she couldn't find time to work after that and quickly quit/lost her job (hard to tell which). Then, rather than support me, she turned our marriage into a sham and almost cost me my entire career. How we would have lived I do not know.

I remember one Christmas like it was yesterday. When she was 'up' on a cycle, she used our credit cards to buy gifts for not only her mother and sister but also for cousins she hadn't seen in years, as well as high-school and college friends she was out of contact with. And, she said she didn't care if we didn't have a dime, because she "was going to be happy this Christmas no matter what!" And, after Christmas? She said, "We can kill ourselves after Christmas and be done with everything!"

No joke, folks, I didn't think that sounded bad. No, I did not want to divorce my wife. I loved her. Despite the fact I had been married previously, I worked as hard as I could in my marriage to Mary because I do not really believe in divorce. But let me tell you, no one in the Bible ever had to deal with a woman like this. And, there is a point at which no one can take it anymore. I made it to that point and beyond.

Luckily, I didn't have to decide about going on, because after a string of affairs on me, Mary fell "in love" with a degenerate gambler and decided to take up with him. She made my decision for me. He wasn't just a gambler: He was the kind of gambler who had loan sharks and bookies looking for him. He had to sell television sets from his home, steal from his parents and run and hide to avoid beatings by people he owed money to because of gambling and/or drugs.

Well, I cannot say I wished her well at the time. My heart was broken, my wallet was bare, my ego was stomped upon and  I barely managed to hold on to my career, which I ended up more than salvaging and ended up doing quite well at for some time. I had to go through Chapter 7 Bankruptcy, though, because she buried me in debt.

The last time I saw her face-to-face was after I received a job as an editor for a large weekly newspaper in Middletown, New Jersey. Mary came to my office demanding something or other after our divorce was final. I informed her we were no longer married, business between us was settled and anything between us had been addressed in a Monmouth County, New Jersey courtroom. Still, she persisted. It ended with me threatening to call the police to have her removed from the building. And then, despite all of the mess, there was finally silence -- blessed silence.

Why was all this needed? Not because Mary was a bad person. Mary was and is a very good person, who is now remarried and has a kid. I believe she takes her medication now, and probably doesn't miss a dose. She doesn't want her life falling apart around her again.

From talking to Mary's doctor and doing independent research in the library about bipolar disorder, I learned it is not uncommon for people with the disorder to go on spending sprees with money they don't have, be so hyper sexual with random people they become promiscuous despite serious relationship obligations, lose jobs from not showing up or not clean themselves and sleep for days.

If you are in a relationship with a bipolar person, you better understand what you are getting into with a person so afflicted by talking to a doctor or other credible medical person for advice. Like I said, not everyone is as heavily impacted by the disorder as Mary. And, Mary would have been, could have been fine if she had just have taken her medication: It was that important.

Mary never told me she had bipolar disorder before we got married. We had only known each other a few months and got married spontaneously in, no joke,  Las Vegas, Nevada. Nevertheless, I took this marriage very seriously. I paid for being haphazard and spontaneous for a long time.

This is why I urge people to understand the disorder by talking to professionals. They can decide what they want to do from there. But, bipolar disorder is serious business that deserves serious attention and support by everyone involved. Bipolar disorder may make people with the disorder spontaneous, but there is nothing spontaneous about addressing it -- and people should know that in order to help whomever they know with it.

Again, thanks for stopping by and I'll be talking to you later...alligator.

The Great American Journey -- in your own backyard

I like the image of a train for discussing a new year: it reminds me about the mobility of people -- lives -- but at the same time each of us takes what we want with us on our journeys.

As part of my 'schtick' I talk about reconciliation and loss a lot; moving on to another day after times have been hard. There is a lot in my writing about redemption and God too. Well, that is my walk of life so it is not unusual that it is also the direction of my writings these days.

Perhaps my generation (b. 1966) was among the last to even be aware that singer Willie Guthrie was famous for being more than just Arlo's father. Oh, and if you're not following me at this point about the Guthries -- look them up because they are worth the read, or find a "Call of Duty" game site to read and leave mine off your list.

This year has meant a lot to me, personally.

Since 2009, I lived through a lot that I thought I wouldn't have to do in this life, not at this point anyway. The issues of being poor and homeless, sick and injured, turned out and given up upon, have never really been on my radar -- these things never touched my life before. I never thought they would happen to me: Famous last words.

Well, they did. I was a real-life, bona fide hobo, bum, alcoholic -- rummy -- who lived in the woods and drank my dinner, consorted with the worst of people and found the robes of our Lord somewhere in the deepest dark. It can happen.

It happened to me.

Hard times taught me about humanity some -- sure did. These times have also taught me that placing even one false friend or relative in my wake is begging for trouble. This can bring you as much trouble as trying to believe in religion, politics or TV ministers. I don't have enough time for that, and I don't believe anyone else does either.

I can pray for people, but I don't need them messing up my life. And, though I will pray for people, I sure as Hell won't pray to them or their idea about what is right or wrong for me. It was my trust in Pop Culture, plastic friends and silly kids that put me in the deepest hole I have ever been in and it was only by renouncing those beliefs that I started to climb the heck back out. The only thing worth anything at all that my old man told me growing up was that "every time someone stabs you in the back in this world is a dress rehearsal for every other time they're going to do it as well." I'll give it to Pop, at least he got that right.

What Pop had no idea about is appreciating the beauty around each of us every time the sun decides to show up in the morning. I relish this more than ever, especially as I start nearing my twilight years bit by bit. Yes, there are some spectacular sunrises and sunsets that should be caught, by all means. And, praying to and being near the Almighty has helped me more than unlimited data on my Smartphone -- that is also for sure. So now I will go back to Willie Guthrie and singing about the Great Expanse of the United States: It's still here. Yet, the greatest expanse -- the land of a million journeys -- isn't just along railcars and hobo camps (which still exist -- let me tell you).

No, the greatest journeys happen in our hearts and for our spirits in this life, as they make their way round one turn and down another straight away and loop around yet again. You don't need to travel a million miles to find something new and brilliant every day -- you just have to open your eyes and pay attention.

It took me almost 50 years -- a half century -- to stop trying to keep up with being the man society and late-night television wanted me to be. It almost drove me nuts trying to stay 'successful' in a world that is as true as a $3 hooker on pay day at a mining camp. And, impressing this world has nothing to do with being close to God or even one's self. So, rather than try to reconcile all this nonsense -- I try to just live simply today, with God and my loved ones near me, just trying to get by every day and appreciating those sunsets a little more every time I get to see one -- especially a good one.

Happy New Year -- and I hope you take the time to shut out the world a little more this year, and catch some of those sunsets yourself.

God Bless

It came upon a midnight clear

My Dad was 10 in 1929, when the worlds of so many people he knew crashed all around him during the “Great Crash,” and that event is widely believed to have caused the Great Depression. If someone doesn’t understand the references, look it up -- I’m not teaching history here.

Well, 2009 might as well have been the Great Crash for me. Then, 2011 was really the end of my old life, which wasn’t so bad really. Between 2011 and 2013 I found my bottom, and was it a pip.

This column isn’t about what was lost, though. Because people lose things; all kinds of things get lost over time, from people to things, money and possessions, reputations and dreams. It is truly a wonderful life, but not everything is going to turn out sweet as pie at all times.

As advice, I would say people are the worst investment I ever put stock in, by and large. Still, if I hadn’t done that, went through the good times and the very hard ones, seen what hell looked like from the cheap seats and found some kind of redemption along the way -- well, it wouldn’t have been the life I am so very proud of and pleased about.

Here is a news break for the kids out there, or those who have suffered getting hit in the head with something big and heavy: Hard times comes and hard times go. Sometimes, plans work for people and sometimes they don’t. No one can control the world around them and believing they can will do nothing but disappoint someone and make them cry for a long time  But, the good news is very good: There is something good even in hard times, the worst of hard times.

I am never going to get back the things I lost in this life, but do any of us actually ‘own’ anything anyway? We rent our houses, which will eventually be owned by someone else. We only handle ‘our money’ because, eventually, it always ends up in someone else’s pocket: Last time I checked no one has a checking account in either heaven or hell. Loved ones, for as hurtful as it can be, will come and go more often than anyone wants. But through everything, if you can find and keep yourself -- you own everything you ever need in this world or the next.

Christmas has never been a big holiday for me. Hard times feel all the harder when there are holiday trees and all those people smiling and gushing cheer all over the place. If someone isn’t feeling good about their life, the first thing they will make a joke about is Christmas; because somewhere down deep they are miserable. Well, being ticked off at life is easy enough to do -- lots of things suck and that is no lie.

It is easy to hate the cards one has been dealt, because the dealer isn’t fair and is sometimes so repugnant you can smell him before you see him. Nevertheless, no one can take anything of value from someone if that someone possesses the one thing that is waterproof, fire-proof and even death-proof: Themselves. No one can stop the tides, hard luck or bad weather but they can like who they see in the mirror and have a little sympathy for the guy. Hell, I will go one further. Being the best friend to yourself will prevent one from living or dying hopeless -- because if you are your own best friend then you’ll never be alone and between you, your best friend and the Lord (whom I believe has walked with me every day in my hard times) you can even have a good game of cards.

Life is a gift. Even the bad parts of it is a gift. Sure, it is not always a gift one wants or even likes, but if someone lets the hard times do their best then, one day, they can look up and maybe they’ll have one more reason than they did the day before for getting out of bed. And, after that, they may come up with another one. And, so on. And, so on.

This is Christmas: A time when people should be kind to one another and overjoyed that the Lord gave them the life he did. At least that is what is on the marquee. I don’t believe people are all that nice (at least not in this day and age if they ever were). As a matter of fact, I don’t put a shot glass full of confidence in the better angels of humanity, as a rule of thumb. But, I have come to believe in the Lord and myself -- the greatest gift a man entering his last act can have. So, the sun is a little brighter, the birds chirp a bit louder and, having acknowledged that this life never will be that “Wonderful Life” Jimmy Stewart knew or Andy Griffith’s “Mayberry RFD,” I look at things around me for what they are and I can like them well enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not happy I was ruined or that those who helped me out in getting ruined did it. Still, last time I checked I’m not in charge of anyone but me. There is someone who is in charge of sorting out what people did and didn’t do, and I’m not talking about Judge Judy. I don’t have to carry the weight of the world, or anyone else’s weight for that matter. Heck, I have my own problems just fending off another piece of pie for dinner.

I lived through the hard times, though, despite horrible, horrible experiences. Those experiences don’t own me anymore, as much as they have been lived and are simply a part of the record where I am involved.

There are special people in my life today, and they don’t expect a damn thing from me other than that I try and do the best I can day to day. God put them in my life and I am really happy about that. And, the people he took away, I guess he knew what he was doing with that too.

If you are reading this and you’re life has been going fine and everything is just wonderful, well this is wasted on you. God bless and may the road rise to meet you still. But, if you are down-and-out, if you are looking at the wolf at the door and he is either getting in or he is walking around the living room -- and it seems like all hope is lost -- I’m here to tell you it isn’t.

Sure, things are going to suck for a while. And, don’t lie to yourself or listen to any of that cheap confection TV ministers are shoveling at you: Not everything is roses and its not supposed to be. Sometimes, you take your licks and go through a little hell. Maybe some violence will be done to your spirit, body and mind. Never think you’re alone, though. There really is a God. If someone doesn’t believe that I really don’t give a damn. The Lord doesn’t need me to ring doorbells for him. I’ll just say he is there and leave it at that.

This world is really very beautiful, even with the muck and mire in it here and there. It’s definitely worth a good long look. When you’re out of money and luck, don’t throw your cards in -- it gets better. If you hang around long enough good stuff will happen. Just look at high school, all you have to do is show up enough and you can be the dumbest bump on the log out there and they’re still going to hand you a piece of paper one day saying you graduated. Maybe life is just a little like that, I don’t know.

So even if you’re not having the happiest of Christmases this year, not to worry. Hang around long enough, do your best not to be stupid (even if you’ve previously made a career out of it) and good things will happen. No one is perfect and everyone deserves a second, third or even fourth chance. There was only one perfect man in this world, and we killed him for it. So, if you are a screw up trying to dig yourself out of a big ass hole, not to worry, there are a whole lot of other people digging right next to you.

Oh, and if you ever have another shot at love (I don’t mean the insane kind) -- do it. I am pretty sure it’s why we were put on this earth in the first place.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!