The Birthday Blues

 

So here I am, trying as hard as I can to celebrate my birthday July 26 71 years old [me and Mick Jagger I might add].  But I am ailing, people, and it has been this way for weeks: in my private parts that I won't make public, a very small irritation, but annoying as hell.  I have been to see my primary care physician, the emergency room, two immediate care centers, and Beck's homeopathic pharmacy in Lincoln Square, and none I REPEAT NONE have been able to solve it.

I had to cancel a trip to Milwaukee to stay at one of my favorite hotels on Earth, St. Kate, and go see two favorite baseball teams, Cubs and Brewers.  I had planned it for my months, and now, I am losing money on the deal because of this damn ailment.  I also had to cancel a trip to the Museum of Post-Punk and Industrial Museum in Chicago, where I am sure a celebration was waiting for me, with ice cream and candy and a punch in the belly [from the post-punk group The Birthday Party]. 

I share birthdays with some of my favorite people, by the way.  Mick Jagger [81], Stanley Kubrick, Aldous Huxley, Carl Jung.  And, two years ago, Sinead O'Connor died, very tragic life.  I wrote a short story about it, The Death of a Birthday Cake, and I love it, though it's apparently unpublishable.  

So, I tell you, once this stupidity is over with, I am going to take off to Milwaukee, Colorado, and points beyond, spend money on hotels, and eat lots of ice cream and candy.  You gotta live through mortality, I guess, so might as well have fun.  Just wait for five hours in an ER, and observe people who AREN'T having that kind of fun, and see what I mean. 

 😉😉😑😠😖😛

Maybe whilst I am sitting around here waiting for the urologist or somebody like him, I might, just might, finish this goddamn story I have been dawdling over: The Texas Stars Go to Ground [working title].  I read from Zelda Rising, my novel, at Pete's Pizzeria and Bake Shop on Granville this past week during two slices for one day, but had to leave early because of pain.

But I'm kind of wondering why I am so drawn to reruns of the Jodi Arias trial lately.  Something about the mix of raw sex, Mormonism, and splattered blood [like in this DH Lawrence novel I'm reading The Plumed Serpent, ritual pagan murder in Mexico].  I wonder if my subconscious is working out some sort of fiction around it: maybe I will tell it my Chicago guy Zelda Rising voice ["so you know what she does, my friend, after playing like sex kitten for him, she goes and stabs him 27 times then slits his throat like that sign they used to make in Mormon temple rites to indicate what would happen to people who wouldn't keep secrets, or something like that"].  

Poor Jodi, crying away on the witness stand.  Was she faking it like her telephone orgasms or did she mean it, either crying for herself or dire mortality in general?  Maybe I should write her a jailhouse letter or buy one of her drawings she sells online.  And no, unlike Gacy, she does not paint clowns.  

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 My music listening has been pretty much around this Beatport subscription service I'm on, lots of progressive house deep trance dance music.  Wonderful sound on these Beat headphones I have.  I had to repurchase them when I ruined the charging mechanism on the previous version, silly me.  

👀☺💝🎂🎂🎂😜😛

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't go to Milwaukee, because the Cubs are playing pretty pathetic ball of late, typified by one Gold Glover and one Potential Gold Glover both losing the ball in the lights at Comiskey Park yesterday during the Cubs Sox series that has always annoyed me, for some reason.  The Brewers are hotter than a BBQ Brat and could potentially sweep the Cubs.  It smells like that August swoon from my favorite Cubs team of all time, the 1979 version, would go through.  Everybody was thrilled in Chicago [except for Sox fans] until everything fell apart from August 1 and after.  The Hiroshima Toyo Carp, last I checked, were 6 1/2 games behind in the Japanese Central Pro League.  The Trinidad Triggers ... why can't I find the standings in the Pecos League?  AI CoPilot is only showing a list of zeroes, so much for it taking over the world, or whatever.