From Pathetic Life #4
Tuesday, September 20, 1994
I bought the bread, and nothing else. $1.49.
♦ ♦ ♦It’s sheer nuttiness, writing a diary and mailing it out as a zine, 'specially since I'm a freak about my personal privacy. Invade my space and I'll smack you in the head ... but here I am, typing everything for strangers.
(Well, almost everything.)
When I have no-one else to talk to, it's nice knowing that at least a few strangers are the mailing list, and they'll be reading this (or skimming it) in a few weeks.
Dear diary, then, since nothing interesting happened in my life today, here’s a scummy confession from long ago, that's still on my conscience:
Had a friend, a damned good friend, who lived with me when we were in our early twenties. He knew a lot about carpentry and homebuilding, and thought he could make a good income by buying fixer-upper houses, repairing and improving them, and selling them for a tidy profit.
He asked me to help him on his first fixer-upper, though this was not the kind of work I’d ever done before. We shook hands on the deal, and went to work on a dilapidated dump of a house he was making payments on.
I did my share of the work, for a while, but I wasn’t good at knocking down walls and hanging doors and tiling floors. I had to work on the house evenings and weekends, after working my regular job — exactly as we'd agreed — but I'm lazy and I hate hard work, so after about six months I said, “I need out of this deal.”
Being a good friend, he let me out, and didn’t even seem to hold it against me. He finished fixing up the house with no further help from me, and he made a small fortune.
Then he bought another rundown house and started repeating the process. He was still working his day job, and too exhausted to do all the work alone a second time, so we talked, and agreed we’d try working together again. He even promised I could have a couple of nights off every week, away from the hammers and nails and spackle and paint.
And again, our arrangement lasted a few months, but I couldn’t handle it and begged off. Again he let me go, and never held it against me. But I held it against me. After that, I could hardly look him in the eye, and our friendship faded.
Those aren’t the only times I’ve been proven untrustworthy, either. Other examples come to mind, but even in a diary zine I’m entitled to keep some things to myself. Suffice to say, my one constant trait in life is that I’ve been a dick.
My offenses are misdemeanors, not felonies. I’ve never killed anyone, never seriously injured anyone, never turned state’s evidence, never robbed a bank, and never cheated on a woman. But I’m an irresponsible asshole, and I wouldn’t loan me fifty bucks.
In my defense, I’m trying not to make commitments any more. Making no promises, I’ll have no promises to break. Having no friends, I’ll have no friends to doublecross. Twice.
♦ ♦ ♦
Due to an unexpected dose of ex-president Jimmy Carter, the US invasion of Haiti has been called off, at least for now.
I’m not sure that a negotiated settlement is what the current president wanted, though. Clinton had argued so loudly for an American war on Haiti to save it, my impression is that now he’s disappointed with peace.
Oh, well. This is America. If it’s not war today, there's
always war tomorrow. We’ll invade or overthrow some country somewhere — a
tiny country that can't much fight back — probably before Clinton’s out of
office.
This
is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago,
called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but
might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting
things, so parental guidance is advised.
I wonder if Donald Trump will go on all kinds of worldwide peace missions and build houses for Habitat for Humanity.
ReplyDeleteHis defining characteristic, I think, is pure narcissism. So no.
DeleteShirley you can't be serious.
DeleteI hope you've forgiven yourself, Doug. Everyone is a fuckup, forgive yourself and move on.
ReplyDeleteGotta forgive myself constantly, just to make way for new sins.
ReplyDelete