When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Monday, February 4, 2008

Yeah, So, How 'Bout Them Giants...?


And now onto other news.

Yesterday, I actually went to My Friend The Doctor's daughter's first birthday party. Readers of more than a year here might recall how I had some angst when this child was born. And how, again thanks to this blog, and you readers, I was able to make an emotional adjustment. I still don't know who that Anonymous person was that gave me the kick in the pants, except that they were from Texas. MFTD and I share a friend from Texas who used to come and read the blog, so I hoped it was him. But whoever it was, I was glad for it.

I took a slow train out to Connecticut, just because it was a Sunday and I didn't want to put out much effort on my weekend. I had a stack of comics to read and I was content for the most part. I bought a $10 birthday card (from here) to enhance the child's life (lol) and off I went. Gladly, my comics kept me from realizing where I was actually going and what I was actually about to do.

MFTD's mother and father were there. And his four brothers. One of his brothers is back from Iraq, safely. Thank God. He won't be going again. But he is trying to join the NYC Police department. Clearly, he's found his calling. Walk softly and carry a big gun. His brother closest in age to him brought his wife--yes, MFTD gained a sister-in-law over the last year, and she is great with child. I mean Sherman-tank-great. They all said she was about to pop any minute. Wouldn't that have been special? The three unmarried brothers had girls on their arms.

MFTD's wife's mother and father was there as well, from the midwest (where he found her. If you'll recall, he and I went to the midwest together. He got a wife and a doctorate out of the deal, and I just got the hell out). They were there with their other daughter, who is turning out to be a nice young woman. She was unaccompanied by a partner, but she's younger than MFTD's wife, who is younger than him, and he's about nine years younger than me. So, no.

Then another school chum of ours showed up (who lives in Connecticut because he was raised in CT, although we first met him out in the midwest when we went out to school. Funny how things turn out.) He showed up with his new wife, and their two-month old baby boy.

You see where this is going right?

Oh, also, MFTD's pastor was there with his wife and three of his eight kids.

So I involve myself with speaking to MFTD's father-in-law, who I actually like, and I speak to MFTD's pastor and wife, and I hang out with our college buddy, and I chew the fat with the ex-Iraq soldier. And I coo and burble as MFTD's little daughter is plied with gifts and attention enough to set her up as one of America's intolerably spoiled princesses (lookout, Paris--you about to have some competition in a few years when you're raising the next Britney). And I stay almost busy enough not to think.


You see, I was able to present myself in the most positive light I've ever done in my life. I live in Manhattan, I'm a full-time Assistant Director in an organization, and I do therapy in a midtown Manhattan counseling center. My sh!t is tight. So I got through the night pretty well.

Until MFTD took me back to the train station, and started complaining bitterly about his mother-in-law. Now, I love MFTD like cooked food, but enough is f*ckin' enough. That boy has more love in this life than I have ever known or will ever know. And he's never happy. Sh!thead! He made me so mad I could have slapped him.

Happily, I let none of it out. We all have a right to complain about whatever, and MFTD's experiences are his own. I just suggested that he not let himself get so upset about things that aren't that serious, because life could be a lot worse for him. He replied, "Yeah, I know. And I shouldn't be complaining about this to you." Which of course made me backpeddle 0 to 1000 mph because, oh hell no, you will not pity me, you lucky, loved, golden child bastard.

Upon reflection, it was better for me to be angry than to be sad. And I wasn't even that angry.

When I got back to NYC, I walked up 42nd Street from Lexington all the way to 8th Ave to get the A train, just occupied with thoughts. The lights and spectacle of Times Square went a long way towards keeping me from the darker spectrum of my emotions. And too, the facts are true--I do live in Manhattan, I am a full time asst. Director, and I do have five clients a week in a midtown Manhattan counseling center, for whom I am doing a lot of good. The look on each one of their faces this past week as they left my office was like a full-on hug from the dearest of you guys. It was like medicine to my soul.

So, my life could be worse. Hell, it was just last year when it was worse. Much worse.

So yeah.

How 'bout them Giants? :-D


Scott said...

Everybody complains; it's just human nature. But it is hard to deal with when you see they have so much that you would like to have.

I used to work outside in the freezing rain banging nails. There was this girl working at a gas station that complained to me of the cold, wrapped in a warm cozy coat in warm cozy convenience store. I told her to strap on a toolbelt and work with me for a day, that she'll know the true meaning of cold then. It came out pretty harsh; the look on her face told me that. Oops. Some things you wish you could take back.

Vi said...

Yep, some peopel don't know just how great they've got it! Good on you for realising that your life isn't that bad. I'm jealous of you living in new york! One day I'll get there!

akakarma said...

I love the irreverent humor I've been seeing in you!

GrizzBabe said...

You have a good life, Alan. Even without a wife and kids and a house in Conneticut, your life is blessed.

fringes said...

Awesome post. Your writing moves me, even though you are a Giants fan!

Alan said...

I mean I appreciate hearing the news that the Giants, a New York team, made some nice history and thrilled a lot of people with an exciting last-minute victory--but to call me a fan would be a gross miscarriage of fanship justice.