Yesterday, Jeckle told me something really shocking: Years ago, our father gave HER a tackle box full of old fishing lures. Jeckle, who despised fishing. Not me, Daddy's little outdoors"man" protégé. What the @*#%!?
Will the injustices never end?
Why, you may ask, were we discussing this anyway? It all has to do with the upcoming estate sale. The people running the show were initially quite excited about the 4 (or was it 5?) tackle boxes full of lures, but after closer inspection, they realized that most of the lures weren't anything special, at least, not in terms of $$$$$. In parlaying this info to me, Jeckle admitted to being the recipient of the lures that were likely worth something, but since she had no appreciation for them (of course not!) she gave them away.
OK, OK, I admit it; it's highly unlikely I would've held onto them through my 35+ moves over the years, but it's the principle of the thing, you know?
Maybe it was Daddy's revenge for me turning my back on his hunting, fishing, artifacts-seeking ways.
I tell you, this trying to figure out stuff long after the fact, and after most everyone is dead or unable to communicate (Alzheimer's-Mom), is really hard. Primarily because I am learning that the way I remember things, upon a bit more thorough inspection and further digging into the recesses of my mind, seems highly suspect!
Oh, well. A-hunting for the truth I must continue to go, if I'm ever going to get through this thing I call grieving and healing.
Speaking of, this has been the summer of learning to actually do nice things for myself. Case in point, a long-delayed trip to NY to see friends (OK, they're pretty much ALL exes!) and my cousin. And THIS TIME while I'm gone, I am really going to get my computer fixed (no need to go into why that didn't happen before). So, this is likely the last entry for a while. Perhaps while I'm away, Jeckle will finally get some time to start adding her two cents to this so-called family memoir.
So, adios for now, my faithful two readers (I know you exist-you told me!).
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Plot Thickens
O.K., I admit it. The more time goes by, the more time I have to ponder and to talk with Jeckle, the more mysterious things become.
One day, Mr Wizard and Jeckle had been at the house. Upon leaving, Mr. Wizard, as always, made sure every door was closed and locked, and the alarm was set. When he returned the next day, the door leading down to the basement from the hallway was wide open. He was quite freaked out.
Soon after that incident, Jeckle and Mr. Wizard were at the house when Jeckle decided she should look behind these two nasty, old mattresses in the basement, "just in case" (that's become her motto at the house). Lo and behold, there stood this cylinder. At first she thought it was a piece of PVC pipe. The fact that it was standing up struck her as odd enough, but upon closer inspection, she realized that the object was actually wooden, smooth, painted white, and "hermetically" sealed. It was not dusty so she surmised it had not been there long, even though it was behind these old mattresses.
She left it standing there and went on about her business until Mr. Wizard came downstairs.
"Look at this," she said, and went and got the object. When she handed it to Mr. Wizard, she heard a sound. There was something inside! With a certain amount of trepidation, they decided to take the object home and investigate further.
Opening it proved to be most difficult. They tried many different ways before they were finally successful.
The cylinder was filled with white powder.
Could it be that whoever Hyde had been spending time with (disreputable people, according to Cap'n John) were dealers, or that he himself was, and someone had come into the house looking for the cylinder, someone who knew the alarm code, and left the door to the basement open?
Two more creepy things: Again, in her desire to search everywhere, "just in case," Jeckle did a sweep under some piece of furniture in the basement and came upon a box of condoms. And while in the garage with the structural engineer, she and he both noticed that someone had "painted" on the wall with mud.
At this point, most of our conversations end with the following: "There is just no telling what Hyde was into and what was going on and that house!"
One day, Mr Wizard and Jeckle had been at the house. Upon leaving, Mr. Wizard, as always, made sure every door was closed and locked, and the alarm was set. When he returned the next day, the door leading down to the basement from the hallway was wide open. He was quite freaked out.
Soon after that incident, Jeckle and Mr. Wizard were at the house when Jeckle decided she should look behind these two nasty, old mattresses in the basement, "just in case" (that's become her motto at the house). Lo and behold, there stood this cylinder. At first she thought it was a piece of PVC pipe. The fact that it was standing up struck her as odd enough, but upon closer inspection, she realized that the object was actually wooden, smooth, painted white, and "hermetically" sealed. It was not dusty so she surmised it had not been there long, even though it was behind these old mattresses.
She left it standing there and went on about her business until Mr. Wizard came downstairs.
"Look at this," she said, and went and got the object. When she handed it to Mr. Wizard, she heard a sound. There was something inside! With a certain amount of trepidation, they decided to take the object home and investigate further.
Opening it proved to be most difficult. They tried many different ways before they were finally successful.
The cylinder was filled with white powder.
Could it be that whoever Hyde had been spending time with (disreputable people, according to Cap'n John) were dealers, or that he himself was, and someone had come into the house looking for the cylinder, someone who knew the alarm code, and left the door to the basement open?
Two more creepy things: Again, in her desire to search everywhere, "just in case," Jeckle did a sweep under some piece of furniture in the basement and came upon a box of condoms. And while in the garage with the structural engineer, she and he both noticed that someone had "painted" on the wall with mud.
At this point, most of our conversations end with the following: "There is just no telling what Hyde was into and what was going on and that house!"
Monday, July 28, 2008
A Little More Inventory
I keep neglecting to give Mr. Wizard props for the hours and hours and days and days, literally, he spent clearing out the hard drives of all 5 or 6 of Hyde's computers so they could be sold.
On just ONE computer, Mr. Wizard found millions (and he was NOT exaggerating) of pornographic photos.
He had 90,000 unread emails.
And, in keeping with his obsessive-compulsive nature, much of what was on the other computers was duplicated information and photos, plus he'd made back-up discs just days before his death that Jeckle found way up in the top right corner of a cabinet.
The sad thing is, I know he believed that this "information" was vital and would bring down the mafia and anyone associated with the mafia once it was revealed to the world (although I'm not sure what how the pornography fits in...). He was convinced he would eventually prevail against all the "criminals," as long as he could escape their grasp until the time was right to make known what he knew.
Wow, all of the sudden, I realized this: What he really believed was that his thoughts were being continually broadcast. He didn't have to DO anything other than think and write everything. That was enough to get his "message" out into the world. The fact that people didn't respond "appropriately" to this information meant that they (the police, me, Jeckle, his friends) were also "criminals" and part of the "reign of terror" being waged against him.
In fact, he was mad most of his life because people were always reading his thoughts, yet never responding "appropriately" to his needs.
On just ONE computer, Mr. Wizard found millions (and he was NOT exaggerating) of pornographic photos.
He had 90,000 unread emails.
And, in keeping with his obsessive-compulsive nature, much of what was on the other computers was duplicated information and photos, plus he'd made back-up discs just days before his death that Jeckle found way up in the top right corner of a cabinet.
The sad thing is, I know he believed that this "information" was vital and would bring down the mafia and anyone associated with the mafia once it was revealed to the world (although I'm not sure what how the pornography fits in...). He was convinced he would eventually prevail against all the "criminals," as long as he could escape their grasp until the time was right to make known what he knew.
Wow, all of the sudden, I realized this: What he really believed was that his thoughts were being continually broadcast. He didn't have to DO anything other than think and write everything. That was enough to get his "message" out into the world. The fact that people didn't respond "appropriately" to this information meant that they (the police, me, Jeckle, his friends) were also "criminals" and part of the "reign of terror" being waged against him.
In fact, he was mad most of his life because people were always reading his thoughts, yet never responding "appropriately" to his needs.
The Phone Call
I moved to California to live with my girlfriend in July. Two months later, our house burned to the ground in the Oakland Firestorm of 1991. Luckily, my girlfriend had a friend that was house sitting in North Berkeley so we, plus my friend from college, were able to temporarily move in with her. It was almost Christmas. I was sitting on our bed in the upstairs bedroom when the phone rang. It was for me. It was Hyde. I took the receiver from my friend warily. Why was he calling? For some bad reason, I was sure.
"Heckle?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember the time you and Jeckle were at my apartment in Vestal and I told you my dentist had put a radio transmitter in my tooth?" (How on earth could I forget THAT?)
"Yes."
"Did you think that sounded crazy?"
Alarms! Bells! Sirens! Trick question, trick question! Don't answer truthfully! It's a TRAP! These were the kinds of questions he liked to ask in order to get me to agree with his delusions and if I didn't, he would berate me and torment me until I would finally cave.
"Uh, well. I don't know. I suppose it's possible someone would do that to you..."
"Look, Jeckle. You can hem and haw or you can tell me the truth."
Deep breath. Moment of truth.
"OK, yes. I thought it sounded crazy." Hold breath. Wait.
Much to my surprise, Hyde burst into tears and sobbed, "I realized that was a delusion! All the things I thought were true were just delusions!"
At this point in the story, I know I should say something like how relieved I was, or happy I was for him, or how I felt such hope now. But here's what really happened for me.
I felt absolutely empty.
What was I supposed to say?
In fact, I have no idea what I actually did say. I'm sure I tried to say something that was at least superficially supportive because that was what I was supposed to do. But in my heart and mind, I just felt numb.
However, that event clearly marked the beginning of HIS recovery and a period of relative sanity and productivity that lasted until 2003.
Let the summer of 2008 clearly mark the beginning of MY recovery.
Free at last, free at last, thank god, I will be free at last.
"Heckle?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember the time you and Jeckle were at my apartment in Vestal and I told you my dentist had put a radio transmitter in my tooth?" (How on earth could I forget THAT?)
"Yes."
"Did you think that sounded crazy?"
Alarms! Bells! Sirens! Trick question, trick question! Don't answer truthfully! It's a TRAP! These were the kinds of questions he liked to ask in order to get me to agree with his delusions and if I didn't, he would berate me and torment me until I would finally cave.
"Uh, well. I don't know. I suppose it's possible someone would do that to you..."
"Look, Jeckle. You can hem and haw or you can tell me the truth."
Deep breath. Moment of truth.
"OK, yes. I thought it sounded crazy." Hold breath. Wait.
Much to my surprise, Hyde burst into tears and sobbed, "I realized that was a delusion! All the things I thought were true were just delusions!"
At this point in the story, I know I should say something like how relieved I was, or happy I was for him, or how I felt such hope now. But here's what really happened for me.
I felt absolutely empty.
What was I supposed to say?
In fact, I have no idea what I actually did say. I'm sure I tried to say something that was at least superficially supportive because that was what I was supposed to do. But in my heart and mind, I just felt numb.
However, that event clearly marked the beginning of HIS recovery and a period of relative sanity and productivity that lasted until 2003.
Let the summer of 2008 clearly mark the beginning of MY recovery.
Free at last, free at last, thank god, I will be free at last.
Living Under Hyde Pt. 2
I was, literally, living underneath him, di-rectly. My bed was under his, with only the floor and some airspace separating us. And he snored. Big time. Yes, so much so that I could hear him loud and clear down in the basement. This was due, at least in part, to the fact that Mom had removed all the wall-to-wall carpet soon after Hyde arrived (allergies-his), so there was no insulation.
Practical problem #1.
Practical problem #2 was that the only shower in the house was in the basement bathroom, a "room" in the far corner of the basement made of cinder blocks (the scene of the 10,000 1/2 used bars of soap and 5,ooo 1/2 used tubes of hair restorer). In order to take a shower, Hyde had to travel past "my" territory and be naked practically in the same room with me. He did not like this one bit.
Well, guess what, buddy? Neither did I!
Oh, I just realized that this may have added to his resentment: I sailed into town and got a job right away working for the recreation department. He was not working. And, of course, even though I didn't know this at the time, he was actively delusional.
Let's call his resentment towards me and the fact that he was CRAZY The Big-Ass Problems #1-ad infinitum.
And me, I definitely had a bit of a, "Fuck you, I have as much right to be here as you" attitude. I was, I think, at least pretending to go about my business as if he weren't there. Kind of a playground, "Nyah, nyah, nyah," modus operandi.
Because let me make this perfectly clear: I hated him and was mad as hell at HIM, too.
I had a few weeks "vacation" in between prepping for my job and its actual start date. I took the opportunity to visit a friend from college who lived in the Bay Area. I must have sensed I would need an escape route because I fell madly in love with one of her roommates (within the space of about 5 days-now that kinda reeks of desperation, huh?) and decided I would move out to California after my eight week program. She was totally down with this (yes, yes- a little desperation there, too).
Then came the fateful event.
Actually, I don't remember anything clearly except that Hyde was carrying on in the kitchen with Mom and Daddy (a polite and mild way of saying he was going OFF) about something. I was, truthfully, scared. I threatened to call the police.
Well, Hyde lost it. He grabbed a plate and slammed it onto the floor, crying and screaming (I kid you not), "Are you going to let her do this to ME?!" And, of course, my parents wanted ME to calm down and not antagonize HIM.
I immediately left the scene, went downstairs, called my girlfriend, relayed what happened, and made plans to quit my job and leave within the week. Which I did.
Practical problem #1.
Practical problem #2 was that the only shower in the house was in the basement bathroom, a "room" in the far corner of the basement made of cinder blocks (the scene of the 10,000 1/2 used bars of soap and 5,ooo 1/2 used tubes of hair restorer). In order to take a shower, Hyde had to travel past "my" territory and be naked practically in the same room with me. He did not like this one bit.
Well, guess what, buddy? Neither did I!
Oh, I just realized that this may have added to his resentment: I sailed into town and got a job right away working for the recreation department. He was not working. And, of course, even though I didn't know this at the time, he was actively delusional.
Let's call his resentment towards me and the fact that he was CRAZY The Big-Ass Problems #1-ad infinitum.
And me, I definitely had a bit of a, "Fuck you, I have as much right to be here as you" attitude. I was, I think, at least pretending to go about my business as if he weren't there. Kind of a playground, "Nyah, nyah, nyah," modus operandi.
Because let me make this perfectly clear: I hated him and was mad as hell at HIM, too.
I had a few weeks "vacation" in between prepping for my job and its actual start date. I took the opportunity to visit a friend from college who lived in the Bay Area. I must have sensed I would need an escape route because I fell madly in love with one of her roommates (within the space of about 5 days-now that kinda reeks of desperation, huh?) and decided I would move out to California after my eight week program. She was totally down with this (yes, yes- a little desperation there, too).
Then came the fateful event.
Actually, I don't remember anything clearly except that Hyde was carrying on in the kitchen with Mom and Daddy (a polite and mild way of saying he was going OFF) about something. I was, truthfully, scared. I threatened to call the police.
Well, Hyde lost it. He grabbed a plate and slammed it onto the floor, crying and screaming (I kid you not), "Are you going to let her do this to ME?!" And, of course, my parents wanted ME to calm down and not antagonize HIM.
I immediately left the scene, went downstairs, called my girlfriend, relayed what happened, and made plans to quit my job and leave within the week. Which I did.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Living Under Hyde Pt. 1
O.K., I did finally clean my house and it felt GOOD! Still haven't gone through shit, but that'll come, that'll come.
I just finished having dinner with a friend who had many questions about Hyde and what happened. I obliged her with a full re-count, including the condensed version of events that led up to Hyde's 10-year period of recovery that lasted from 1992 until about 2003.
Recovery was initially forced upon him. Mom and Daddy moved into Mom's parents' house in 1981. About 2 or 3 years later, Hyde appeared on their doorstep, on the lam from we never knew what. He needed a "safe" house. Yet another mystery in the life that was Hyde's. Needless to say, showing up suddenly, in desperation and in fear, with no explanation except that he needed a place to stay, spoke volumes about his frame of mind and state of his life at that time. It also pretty much put the kibosh on anything even resembling a pleasant visit with Mom and Daddy for years to come .
One good thing that came of him moving in was that from that point on, Jeckle and Mr. Wizard were "forced" to let me stay with them when I came in for a visit. Up until then, they operated in a fairly insular fashion but now they HAD to let me in! It was the beginning of a long road to forging bonds between us all that have stood us in good stead, particularly during these past five years of major family upheaval.
Anyway, Hyde moved in and, for a short period of time was kind of hanging on to his sanity. I think he was trying to either finish school or find a job, or both, the two activities that consumed most of his adult life. It seems there was at least one incident during this time involving losing a job or something. I say incident because Hyde never JUST lost a job. There was always some drama, some mystery, some accusation, something sinister that came into play.
At any rate, something triggered his insanity and it just got worse and worse. He often sat holed up in his room, 2 different T.V.'s on (with aluminum foil "wings" coming out of the sides of one), tape recorder playing over and over a phone conversation he'd made to some tele-evangelist's headquarters, listening and watching intently to either capture the messages he was being sent or to figure out who was reading his mind. If he wasn't holed up, he was wandering around, muttering to himself, or out terrorizing the community with ranting and raving.
I tried to have a conversation with him once during this period. He got extremely agitated with me because I was acting like I didn't know what was wrong, didn't know what was going on. He knew I could read his mind so why the hell was I acting like I didn't know why he was upset?! I was clearly in on the conspiracy and faking concern. (He had a particularly nasty way of sneering, "Oh, right. I know. You're CONCERNED about me. You LOVE me.")
The situation devolved to the point where he wasn't bathing, he was yelling and cursing, slamming doors, screeching down the driveway and screaming out of the window and, finally, making threatening statements and calling Mom a bitch. It got to the point where even Daddy could no longer ignore what was happening. That's how bad it was. Daddy had managed to ignore and deny a lot over the course of 30+ years.
So, Mom did the required legwork. She got a court order. The next time something big happened, she called the police. Daddy came home from work. Maggie left work and went over. Mom's brother went over. The police came. Fortunately, one of them knew how to handle the situation. Hyde was escorted to the psychiatric unit at the hospital. He underwent an evaluation. He was told that IF he started meds and therapy, he would not be hospitalized. He grudgingly acquiesced.
I found out later from him that for the next year he was just "playing along," biding his time, waiting, basically, until the "truth" came out and he would be vindicated. No one else knew this, of course. We all thought he was on the road to recovery.
That same year coincided with my last year of living in N.Y.C. In the middle of that year, I left N.Y. and showed up on my parents' doorstep to live until I found a place of my own. I was NOT unannounced, however; they knew I was coming. I remember Mom totally made up a place for me in the basement (the basement is huge-not dark or dank or anything-it was nice, once upon a time) with a bed, bedside tables, chifarobe (I don't have a clue how to spell that and even tried to look it up to no avail), rugs, desk. She was happy I was able to stay there.
I got a job with the Parks and Rec Department. All was good, except I was living under Hyde. Literally. And, of course, he wasn't really in recovery. He was still crazy as a loon and harboring much resentment about me being there (remember: my being born ruined his life).
What happened next? Stay tuned for the next installment of "Living Under Hyde."
I just finished having dinner with a friend who had many questions about Hyde and what happened. I obliged her with a full re-count, including the condensed version of events that led up to Hyde's 10-year period of recovery that lasted from 1992 until about 2003.
Recovery was initially forced upon him. Mom and Daddy moved into Mom's parents' house in 1981. About 2 or 3 years later, Hyde appeared on their doorstep, on the lam from we never knew what. He needed a "safe" house. Yet another mystery in the life that was Hyde's. Needless to say, showing up suddenly, in desperation and in fear, with no explanation except that he needed a place to stay, spoke volumes about his frame of mind and state of his life at that time. It also pretty much put the kibosh on anything even resembling a pleasant visit with Mom and Daddy for years to come .
One good thing that came of him moving in was that from that point on, Jeckle and Mr. Wizard were "forced" to let me stay with them when I came in for a visit. Up until then, they operated in a fairly insular fashion but now they HAD to let me in! It was the beginning of a long road to forging bonds between us all that have stood us in good stead, particularly during these past five years of major family upheaval.
Anyway, Hyde moved in and, for a short period of time was kind of hanging on to his sanity. I think he was trying to either finish school or find a job, or both, the two activities that consumed most of his adult life. It seems there was at least one incident during this time involving losing a job or something. I say incident because Hyde never JUST lost a job. There was always some drama, some mystery, some accusation, something sinister that came into play.
At any rate, something triggered his insanity and it just got worse and worse. He often sat holed up in his room, 2 different T.V.'s on (with aluminum foil "wings" coming out of the sides of one), tape recorder playing over and over a phone conversation he'd made to some tele-evangelist's headquarters, listening and watching intently to either capture the messages he was being sent or to figure out who was reading his mind. If he wasn't holed up, he was wandering around, muttering to himself, or out terrorizing the community with ranting and raving.
I tried to have a conversation with him once during this period. He got extremely agitated with me because I was acting like I didn't know what was wrong, didn't know what was going on. He knew I could read his mind so why the hell was I acting like I didn't know why he was upset?! I was clearly in on the conspiracy and faking concern. (He had a particularly nasty way of sneering, "Oh, right. I know. You're CONCERNED about me. You LOVE me.")
The situation devolved to the point where he wasn't bathing, he was yelling and cursing, slamming doors, screeching down the driveway and screaming out of the window and, finally, making threatening statements and calling Mom a bitch. It got to the point where even Daddy could no longer ignore what was happening. That's how bad it was. Daddy had managed to ignore and deny a lot over the course of 30+ years.
So, Mom did the required legwork. She got a court order. The next time something big happened, she called the police. Daddy came home from work. Maggie left work and went over. Mom's brother went over. The police came. Fortunately, one of them knew how to handle the situation. Hyde was escorted to the psychiatric unit at the hospital. He underwent an evaluation. He was told that IF he started meds and therapy, he would not be hospitalized. He grudgingly acquiesced.
I found out later from him that for the next year he was just "playing along," biding his time, waiting, basically, until the "truth" came out and he would be vindicated. No one else knew this, of course. We all thought he was on the road to recovery.
That same year coincided with my last year of living in N.Y.C. In the middle of that year, I left N.Y. and showed up on my parents' doorstep to live until I found a place of my own. I was NOT unannounced, however; they knew I was coming. I remember Mom totally made up a place for me in the basement (the basement is huge-not dark or dank or anything-it was nice, once upon a time) with a bed, bedside tables, chifarobe (I don't have a clue how to spell that and even tried to look it up to no avail), rugs, desk. She was happy I was able to stay there.
I got a job with the Parks and Rec Department. All was good, except I was living under Hyde. Literally. And, of course, he wasn't really in recovery. He was still crazy as a loon and harboring much resentment about me being there (remember: my being born ruined his life).
What happened next? Stay tuned for the next installment of "Living Under Hyde."
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Nursing Home Fiasco
I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever clean my apartment again. Back when I was in the midst of cleaning out the house, going through all that STUFF, breaking down the zillions of empty boxes, I vowed that the very first thing I would do upon my return would be to CLEAN HOUSE and get rid of anything and everything that was superfluous.
It hasn't quite turned out that way. Instead, I'm finding I don't want to clean anything. I'm barely getting to my dishes, let alone the rest of the apartment. I definitely haven't made any moves towards getting rid of stuff. No "spring cleaning" going on in this house!
Hmmm...but now that I think about it, I guess I really am doing a lot of cleaning; spiritual cleaning, that is.
What the hell? The other stuff can wait.
So, when I last left off, Daddy had broken his hip and Hyde had become convinced that it was the result of a conspiracy amongst the nursing home staff. He even went to so far as to claim that the orderly who went to try to guide Daddy back to his room actually pushed Daddy down, causing him to fall.
Daddy returned from the hospital and was moved into Mom's room (I almost said Mother; that's what Hyde always called her). During this brief period of time (Daddy died a couple of weeks later), Hyde became quite involved and, shall we say, PRESENT at the nursing home. He was very agitated and angry about what had happened and, allegedly, he began behaving in what the staff perceived to be threatening ways.
I can speak from experience: Hyde's behavior could be VERY scary and threatening. He NEVER saw it that way and always felt peoples' reactions to him were unjustified. He always thought THEIR behavior was out of line. However, I will also say that it's unclear what was actually going on. By this point, there had been enough questionable actions on the part of various members of the staff to throw doubt onto the veracity of their claims.
But, again, let me be clear: I do not think there was a conspiracy; just an unfortunate (mostly) disconnected series of events.
So, one night, I'm hanging with Jeckle and Mr. Wizard the phone rings. I really don't remember who answered it (Jeckle often wanted me to when we knew it was Hyde-caller I.D. and all) but the upshot was that Hyde was at the nursing home. A nurse claimed he hit her and called the police on him.
We go down to the nursing home.
OK, I have to admit that right now, as I am thinking about this again, I can see Hyde sitting on the bench outside when we arrive, his air filter mask on top of his head like a yarmulke, looking crazy as a loon, staring straight ahead with that autistic look he could get, and I feel overwhelmed with sadness for him. I know he was just feeling sad and scared for his Daddy. He wanted Daddy to be taken care of; he felt Daddy was being neglected and, worse, targeted for abuse. But it was part of what was so maddening, and so tragically sad, about dealing with him. When he was "losing it," when he was paranoid, he just created big-ass messes for himself.
And what mess came of this? He was basically thrown out of the nursing home.
So, when Daddy died a week or so later, Hyde did not go down to the home, and he hadn't been there in the days leading up to Daddy's death. And the only time he went down there again was with Jeckle, to see mom, at Thanksgiving and/or Christmas. He lived a 5 minute drive away and felt he couldn't go down there to see his mother.
Like I said before, the beginning of the end.
It hasn't quite turned out that way. Instead, I'm finding I don't want to clean anything. I'm barely getting to my dishes, let alone the rest of the apartment. I definitely haven't made any moves towards getting rid of stuff. No "spring cleaning" going on in this house!
Hmmm...but now that I think about it, I guess I really am doing a lot of cleaning; spiritual cleaning, that is.
What the hell? The other stuff can wait.
So, when I last left off, Daddy had broken his hip and Hyde had become convinced that it was the result of a conspiracy amongst the nursing home staff. He even went to so far as to claim that the orderly who went to try to guide Daddy back to his room actually pushed Daddy down, causing him to fall.
Daddy returned from the hospital and was moved into Mom's room (I almost said Mother; that's what Hyde always called her). During this brief period of time (Daddy died a couple of weeks later), Hyde became quite involved and, shall we say, PRESENT at the nursing home. He was very agitated and angry about what had happened and, allegedly, he began behaving in what the staff perceived to be threatening ways.
I can speak from experience: Hyde's behavior could be VERY scary and threatening. He NEVER saw it that way and always felt peoples' reactions to him were unjustified. He always thought THEIR behavior was out of line. However, I will also say that it's unclear what was actually going on. By this point, there had been enough questionable actions on the part of various members of the staff to throw doubt onto the veracity of their claims.
But, again, let me be clear: I do not think there was a conspiracy; just an unfortunate (mostly) disconnected series of events.
So, one night, I'm hanging with Jeckle and Mr. Wizard the phone rings. I really don't remember who answered it (Jeckle often wanted me to when we knew it was Hyde-caller I.D. and all) but the upshot was that Hyde was at the nursing home. A nurse claimed he hit her and called the police on him.
We go down to the nursing home.
OK, I have to admit that right now, as I am thinking about this again, I can see Hyde sitting on the bench outside when we arrive, his air filter mask on top of his head like a yarmulke, looking crazy as a loon, staring straight ahead with that autistic look he could get, and I feel overwhelmed with sadness for him. I know he was just feeling sad and scared for his Daddy. He wanted Daddy to be taken care of; he felt Daddy was being neglected and, worse, targeted for abuse. But it was part of what was so maddening, and so tragically sad, about dealing with him. When he was "losing it," when he was paranoid, he just created big-ass messes for himself.
And what mess came of this? He was basically thrown out of the nursing home.
So, when Daddy died a week or so later, Hyde did not go down to the home, and he hadn't been there in the days leading up to Daddy's death. And the only time he went down there again was with Jeckle, to see mom, at Thanksgiving and/or Christmas. He lived a 5 minute drive away and felt he couldn't go down there to see his mother.
Like I said before, the beginning of the end.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Repair Shop
I want to let my one or two regular readers know (I understand I may be grossly overestimating how many people are reading this thing) there will be no new posts after today until at least July 19th. I'm going to southern Utah to volunteer at the Best Friends Sanctuary (if you don't know about it, check it out!) and my computer is going in the shop for a little disc repair (not unlike Jeckle).
The saga will continue...
The saga will continue...
The Nursing Home Mafia
You may laugh at the title, but a series of unfortunate events led Hyde to view key players at the nursing home as members of a cabal out to emasculate Daddy and him (yes, yes, it always comes back to him). I will be the first to admit that some of the staff made choices that were ill-advised and had disastrous results. I can even get mad about their behavior and decisions. I just couldn't, and still can't, get behind Hyde's conviction that they had a PLAN.
If only he could have realized they weren't cohesive enough or devious enough to form such a group. If only he could have realized that the basic problem was not that they were evil, but that they were incompetent. (True, some were arrogant and incompetent, which is not a good combination. But most of them were simply well-meaning but incompetent. Put the two groups together and you have a recipe for poor decisions leading to bungling and ineffective actions, but not a well-thought-out plan to "take down" Daddy or Hyde.) If he could have realized that the impact of their intentions was different than their intentions, he would perhaps still be here today. For this was the beginning of the end.
As far as I can remember, it all started with a phone call from the nursing home to Hyde regarding Daddy's behavior. He had, allegedly, begun making sexual advances to Mom's roommate, as well as (gasp!) to Mom herself. The person on the phone (a nurse who had previously been held in high regard by Hyde) indicated that Daddy's behavior had become aggressive, lewd, and uncontrollable. He had, allegedly, begun "playing with" himself when being given his bath. According to Hyde, he was pressured into giving them permission to move Daddy immediately out of the room that is next door to Mom's and down the hall so that he would be isolated from his "targets." Hyde remembers being told that if he didn't give permission, WE (the children) would be held liable if anything happened.
The story at this point becomes a big, convoluted mess (surprise!). It all happened very quickly, too.
Hyde gave his permission. He later found out that Daddy had also been given at least one unauthorized shot of Estrogen during this time (hence, the emasculation accusation) because someone (not Daddy's doctor) determined that the problem was that Daddy's testosterone level was too high.
Let me stop here and say, unequivocally, that I think both decisions, moving Daddy and giving him Estrogen, were senseless, reactionary, and they should have known better. Nursing home staff, of all people, should have been aware of the fact that such a drastic change in Daddy's behavior (he had heretofore been one of their most polite, beloved, and decorous patients) indicated that he had entered what is known as the premorbid stage of death. He had already, prior to this situation, begun exhibiting symptoms of aspiration pneumonia (he had Parkinson's and swallowing had become increasingly difficult). In fact, one staff nurse had notified Hyde that Daddy's "time" might be near.
And yet, because of incompetence coupled with poor communication-NOT a conspiracy-decisions were made that led to the final blow for Daddy (and, ultimately, Hyde): Daddy fell and broke his hip during an agitated excursion to get back to Mom.
Interestingly, this also set into motion Hyde's decline into the final premorbid stage of his schizophrenia.
If only he could have realized they weren't cohesive enough or devious enough to form such a group. If only he could have realized that the basic problem was not that they were evil, but that they were incompetent. (True, some were arrogant and incompetent, which is not a good combination. But most of them were simply well-meaning but incompetent. Put the two groups together and you have a recipe for poor decisions leading to bungling and ineffective actions, but not a well-thought-out plan to "take down" Daddy or Hyde.) If he could have realized that the impact of their intentions was different than their intentions, he would perhaps still be here today. For this was the beginning of the end.
As far as I can remember, it all started with a phone call from the nursing home to Hyde regarding Daddy's behavior. He had, allegedly, begun making sexual advances to Mom's roommate, as well as (gasp!) to Mom herself. The person on the phone (a nurse who had previously been held in high regard by Hyde) indicated that Daddy's behavior had become aggressive, lewd, and uncontrollable. He had, allegedly, begun "playing with" himself when being given his bath. According to Hyde, he was pressured into giving them permission to move Daddy immediately out of the room that is next door to Mom's and down the hall so that he would be isolated from his "targets." Hyde remembers being told that if he didn't give permission, WE (the children) would be held liable if anything happened.
The story at this point becomes a big, convoluted mess (surprise!). It all happened very quickly, too.
Hyde gave his permission. He later found out that Daddy had also been given at least one unauthorized shot of Estrogen during this time (hence, the emasculation accusation) because someone (not Daddy's doctor) determined that the problem was that Daddy's testosterone level was too high.
Let me stop here and say, unequivocally, that I think both decisions, moving Daddy and giving him Estrogen, were senseless, reactionary, and they should have known better. Nursing home staff, of all people, should have been aware of the fact that such a drastic change in Daddy's behavior (he had heretofore been one of their most polite, beloved, and decorous patients) indicated that he had entered what is known as the premorbid stage of death. He had already, prior to this situation, begun exhibiting symptoms of aspiration pneumonia (he had Parkinson's and swallowing had become increasingly difficult). In fact, one staff nurse had notified Hyde that Daddy's "time" might be near.
And yet, because of incompetence coupled with poor communication-NOT a conspiracy-decisions were made that led to the final blow for Daddy (and, ultimately, Hyde): Daddy fell and broke his hip during an agitated excursion to get back to Mom.
Interestingly, this also set into motion Hyde's decline into the final premorbid stage of his schizophrenia.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Good vs. Evil
Wow. It seems like years since I last wrote. Time has been sort of kaleidoscoping recently. Although, as I write that, I wonder, "Is that really what I mean? Wouldn't is be more accurate to say 'telescoping' or 'microscoping' since what I mean is things that happened long ago seem like yesterday, and things that happened recently seem long ago?" Although I guess there is a sort of brightly-colored, ever-shifting-patterns, surreal aspect to what's been happening.
Anyway.
After my last entry, I kind of freaked out about the daunting task I had handed myself: Trying to explain the past two years of Hyde's life from my vantage point of VERY limited and convoluted information about what he had been up to. Even the pieces that I had been actually present for (for example, Christmas two years ago, during which we party-goers, including Mom and Daddy, sat pseudo-serenely in the living room while police officers stormed through the rest of the house in search of someone or something I can no longer remember) don't fit together. Everything was SO crazy and extreme, trying to create a cohesive story seems like an impossible task.
I wish Jeckle would start adding her two cents! (Maybe after her back surgery.)
I can talk about the players (and I've decided to drop the pseudonyms-you don't know them and will never meet them anyway!):
Brian, the brilliant physicist and socially inept friend who was hanging out at the downtown bar with Hyde.
Sean, the young, extremely crazy man Hyde moved into the house after knowing him for about a week.
Matt, another young, extremely crazy young man with really bad teeth whom Hyde moved into the house after things went south with Sean.
Michael, a gay man known to all of the above..
The latter three were all "friends" of Brian's, who introduced them to Hyde.
Here's what I can remember in some semblance of order:
Whatever went wrong with his "friendship" with Sean led Sean to begin harassing Hyde by making a variety of phone calls in Hyde's name. This started off on an incredibly juvenile level (remember, I've said Hyde had the emotional maturity level of a 15-year-old; his friends, too): ordering pizzas in his name, sending a taxi to the house; then escalated to calling the police claiming to be Hyde with a pregnant wife in the house and not knowing what to do, or calling 911 claiming he was Hyde and threatening suicide. It was one of these type of calls that led the police to "raid" the house on New Year's Eve while we were all hanging out in the living room.
After Hyde kicked Sean out (which clearly pissed Sean off), he invited Matt to live with him. He and Matt became a unified front in the "fight against Sean" who Hyde had by now had labeled "criminally insane." Somehow Hyde also managed to reach the conclusion that Matt was his boyfriend, even though Matt had a girlfriend who was pregnant. Hyde was quite giddy about this. This led to Matt being part of our family Christmas gathering at the nursing home. When I lodged a protest against this, Hyde was quite hurt. Matt was "part of the family."
Sometime during all this, and somehow, Michael also became part of the Sean situation. Hyde reached the conclusion that Sean and Michael were in cahoots to harass him (and now Matt).
This "Matt and Hyde vs. Sean and Michael" idiocy went on for a month or two, with each side egging the other on with one stunt after another. Taunting messages, phone calls, emails, encounters. For as much as Hyde and Matt pretended to hate Sean and Michael, they certainly engaged with them quite frequently.
Oh, let me say that during my winter visit, I went to lunch with Hyde and Matt. Matt drove. He WAS insane and quite mean to my brother. I didn't like it AT ALL and told Hyde how I felt. He brushed it off at the time (his usual m.o. when it came to one of his sister's observations about his life) but later came back to it as proof that HE was right about Matt.
So, one day, Matt and Hyde were in the car. Something happened. They had an argument. Matt hit Hyde. Hyde kicked Matt out of the car and out of the house. This led to Matt trying to exercise his "rights" as a tenant and police involvement and really bad feelings and, ultimately, to Hyde reaching the conclusion that Michael, Sean, and Matt had been "working together" all along to take advantage of him and that they were all "insane criminals."
Hyde eventually hired a private investigator to deal with all of this. He got a restraining order against Sean. He took Sean to court regarding the 911 call. I actually went to a court date with him. I was glad I was there because otherwise I believe Hyde would have done something incredibly foolish. As it was, while we were in the hall with everyone else, waiting, Hyde kept making really loud, threatening, sneering comments about, and gestures towards, Sean's parents.
(It reminded me of the time Jeckle and I went to dinner with Hyde a few years ago and he decided that this innocent man who was out for dinner with his wife and two kids was watching him and doing something TO him. Hyde began sneering, "Oh, he thinks he's going to be on T.V. later!" and making the "I'm watching you!" gesture from "Meet the Parents," threateningly moving his two fingers from his eyes and jabbing them towards this poor man. We would be in the middle of trying to converse and Hyde would suddenly stop what he was saying, whip his head towards this guy, give him an ugly, haughty sneer, and proclaim, loudly, "That man is staring at me! I should have him arrested!" As you might imagine, Jeckle and I were horrified. Getting Hyde out of there without a big scene was quite a struggle. In retrospect, we realized WE should have had Hyde arrested.)
It's very telling that during this time, when Hyde was CLEARLY losing it himself, he took to labeling everyone with whom he had any real or imagined issue as "insane," "a criminal," or a "crook," and all of THEIR behavior as "crazy."
However, it is important to note that during this time, Hyde was also very manic and giddy with the pleasure of finally getting to hire a private investigator (a life-long dream, as he revealed to me one day) and with his self-proclaimed righteousness (he was good fighting evil!) and perceived power (he would win, of course). In the midst of all this danger and excitement, he was happy as a clam.
However, his superpowers were not strong enough once he had to "fight" the evil forces of the nursing home.
Anyway.
After my last entry, I kind of freaked out about the daunting task I had handed myself: Trying to explain the past two years of Hyde's life from my vantage point of VERY limited and convoluted information about what he had been up to. Even the pieces that I had been actually present for (for example, Christmas two years ago, during which we party-goers, including Mom and Daddy, sat pseudo-serenely in the living room while police officers stormed through the rest of the house in search of someone or something I can no longer remember) don't fit together. Everything was SO crazy and extreme, trying to create a cohesive story seems like an impossible task.
I wish Jeckle would start adding her two cents! (Maybe after her back surgery.)
I can talk about the players (and I've decided to drop the pseudonyms-you don't know them and will never meet them anyway!):
Brian, the brilliant physicist and socially inept friend who was hanging out at the downtown bar with Hyde.
Sean, the young, extremely crazy man Hyde moved into the house after knowing him for about a week.
Matt, another young, extremely crazy young man with really bad teeth whom Hyde moved into the house after things went south with Sean.
Michael, a gay man known to all of the above..
The latter three were all "friends" of Brian's, who introduced them to Hyde.
Here's what I can remember in some semblance of order:
Whatever went wrong with his "friendship" with Sean led Sean to begin harassing Hyde by making a variety of phone calls in Hyde's name. This started off on an incredibly juvenile level (remember, I've said Hyde had the emotional maturity level of a 15-year-old; his friends, too): ordering pizzas in his name, sending a taxi to the house; then escalated to calling the police claiming to be Hyde with a pregnant wife in the house and not knowing what to do, or calling 911 claiming he was Hyde and threatening suicide. It was one of these type of calls that led the police to "raid" the house on New Year's Eve while we were all hanging out in the living room.
After Hyde kicked Sean out (which clearly pissed Sean off), he invited Matt to live with him. He and Matt became a unified front in the "fight against Sean" who Hyde had by now had labeled "criminally insane." Somehow Hyde also managed to reach the conclusion that Matt was his boyfriend, even though Matt had a girlfriend who was pregnant. Hyde was quite giddy about this. This led to Matt being part of our family Christmas gathering at the nursing home. When I lodged a protest against this, Hyde was quite hurt. Matt was "part of the family."
Sometime during all this, and somehow, Michael also became part of the Sean situation. Hyde reached the conclusion that Sean and Michael were in cahoots to harass him (and now Matt).
This "Matt and Hyde vs. Sean and Michael" idiocy went on for a month or two, with each side egging the other on with one stunt after another. Taunting messages, phone calls, emails, encounters. For as much as Hyde and Matt pretended to hate Sean and Michael, they certainly engaged with them quite frequently.
Oh, let me say that during my winter visit, I went to lunch with Hyde and Matt. Matt drove. He WAS insane and quite mean to my brother. I didn't like it AT ALL and told Hyde how I felt. He brushed it off at the time (his usual m.o. when it came to one of his sister's observations about his life) but later came back to it as proof that HE was right about Matt.
So, one day, Matt and Hyde were in the car. Something happened. They had an argument. Matt hit Hyde. Hyde kicked Matt out of the car and out of the house. This led to Matt trying to exercise his "rights" as a tenant and police involvement and really bad feelings and, ultimately, to Hyde reaching the conclusion that Michael, Sean, and Matt had been "working together" all along to take advantage of him and that they were all "insane criminals."
Hyde eventually hired a private investigator to deal with all of this. He got a restraining order against Sean. He took Sean to court regarding the 911 call. I actually went to a court date with him. I was glad I was there because otherwise I believe Hyde would have done something incredibly foolish. As it was, while we were in the hall with everyone else, waiting, Hyde kept making really loud, threatening, sneering comments about, and gestures towards, Sean's parents.
(It reminded me of the time Jeckle and I went to dinner with Hyde a few years ago and he decided that this innocent man who was out for dinner with his wife and two kids was watching him and doing something TO him. Hyde began sneering, "Oh, he thinks he's going to be on T.V. later!" and making the "I'm watching you!" gesture from "Meet the Parents," threateningly moving his two fingers from his eyes and jabbing them towards this poor man. We would be in the middle of trying to converse and Hyde would suddenly stop what he was saying, whip his head towards this guy, give him an ugly, haughty sneer, and proclaim, loudly, "That man is staring at me! I should have him arrested!" As you might imagine, Jeckle and I were horrified. Getting Hyde out of there without a big scene was quite a struggle. In retrospect, we realized WE should have had Hyde arrested.)
It's very telling that during this time, when Hyde was CLEARLY losing it himself, he took to labeling everyone with whom he had any real or imagined issue as "insane," "a criminal," or a "crook," and all of THEIR behavior as "crazy."
However, it is important to note that during this time, Hyde was also very manic and giddy with the pleasure of finally getting to hire a private investigator (a life-long dream, as he revealed to me one day) and with his self-proclaimed righteousness (he was good fighting evil!) and perceived power (he would win, of course). In the midst of all this danger and excitement, he was happy as a clam.
However, his superpowers were not strong enough once he had to "fight" the evil forces of the nursing home.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Background Information
OK, so some of you may have been wondering, "Just what sorts of activities was Hyde up to that would have warranted the attention of a P.I.?" That's an excellent question. Here's what I know (which means, of course, there's LOTS I don't know so let your imagination run wild):
Summer 2006
Hyde and his brilliant, yet socially challenged, friend, Bobby, start hanging out, somewhat obsessively (at least Hyde does), at a downtown club. Hyde's main activities are photographing and filming the crowds and bands, as well as "interviewing" unsuspecting passers by outside the club. In sharing his exploits with us over dinner one night, he demonstrates an alarming lack of awareness of peoples' personal space and the potentially upsetting aspect of being filmed by some stranger. He does not seem aware that he is, perhaps, simply being tolerated as a harmless, eccentric, "old" (for clubbing) man and not embraced as a true part of the scene. He is also drinking, a lot. And giddy (read: manic).
Hyde also begins a website and starts to broadcast a variety of porn, as well as movies with which he was obsessed ("Fight Club"), interspersed with social and political commentary, courtesy of him (remember: one of the two greatest living political minds). I'm not certain of this, but my guess is that he did nothing to ensure that minors could not access his website.
I know about the website and porn because he makes a point of showing me, not only his porn website, but the various porn posters and DVDs he has in his room. He claims his therapist told him he should. I feel certain there must be a misunderstanding but he stands by his belief that she told him to "show my sister my porn."
It is through Hyde's association with Bobby that we move into the next phase.
Bobby introduces Hyde to Steven, a 20-something straight boy of questionable reputation and sanity. One day, Hyde calls Jeckle and says, without any preamble, "I have a roommate."
Now, one could say that Jeckle and I shouldn't have anything to say about this; Hyde is a grown man. However, he is living in our grandparents'/parents' house, full of their belongings. Plus, we know he often exercises poor and impulsive judgement when it comes to his affiliations. People who are allegedly his friends often end up really mad at him (and doing things like breaking into his apartment and stealing our home movies). So, Jeckle reacted with, "What? Who is this person? How did you meet him? How long have you known him? (About a day, as it turns out.) I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
Hyde calls me and gets basically the same reaction. His next move is to go to Daddy at the nursing home, 9:30 at night, to whine, "Jeckle and Heckle don't want me to have a roommate. Whah. Whah." Daddy falls for it, doesn't ask questions, and gives Hyde his blessing. Mom can't, because she has Alzheimer's.
Now, can you predict how this turns out?
Summer 2006
Hyde and his brilliant, yet socially challenged, friend, Bobby, start hanging out, somewhat obsessively (at least Hyde does), at a downtown club. Hyde's main activities are photographing and filming the crowds and bands, as well as "interviewing" unsuspecting passers by outside the club. In sharing his exploits with us over dinner one night, he demonstrates an alarming lack of awareness of peoples' personal space and the potentially upsetting aspect of being filmed by some stranger. He does not seem aware that he is, perhaps, simply being tolerated as a harmless, eccentric, "old" (for clubbing) man and not embraced as a true part of the scene. He is also drinking, a lot. And giddy (read: manic).
Hyde also begins a website and starts to broadcast a variety of porn, as well as movies with which he was obsessed ("Fight Club"), interspersed with social and political commentary, courtesy of him (remember: one of the two greatest living political minds). I'm not certain of this, but my guess is that he did nothing to ensure that minors could not access his website.
I know about the website and porn because he makes a point of showing me, not only his porn website, but the various porn posters and DVDs he has in his room. He claims his therapist told him he should. I feel certain there must be a misunderstanding but he stands by his belief that she told him to "show my sister my porn."
It is through Hyde's association with Bobby that we move into the next phase.
Bobby introduces Hyde to Steven, a 20-something straight boy of questionable reputation and sanity. One day, Hyde calls Jeckle and says, without any preamble, "I have a roommate."
Now, one could say that Jeckle and I shouldn't have anything to say about this; Hyde is a grown man. However, he is living in our grandparents'/parents' house, full of their belongings. Plus, we know he often exercises poor and impulsive judgement when it comes to his affiliations. People who are allegedly his friends often end up really mad at him (and doing things like breaking into his apartment and stealing our home movies). So, Jeckle reacted with, "What? Who is this person? How did you meet him? How long have you known him? (About a day, as it turns out.) I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
Hyde calls me and gets basically the same reaction. His next move is to go to Daddy at the nursing home, 9:30 at night, to whine, "Jeckle and Heckle don't want me to have a roommate. Whah. Whah." Daddy falls for it, doesn't ask questions, and gives Hyde his blessing. Mom can't, because she has Alzheimer's.
Now, can you predict how this turns out?
Overdue Cred
This particular post contains no family drama-related story; it contains an explanation of why this blog even exists.
I want to take a minute out of my busy blogging schedule to give overdue (though not long, since I've really only just begun) thanks and credit to the person who helped me get this thing started. Of course, one could say I really didn't need any help; after all, blogging is pretty easy. But the truth is 1) without her, I would have remained unaware of how perfect the blog format is for what I wanted to accomplish, 2) she wrote down the website to use, thus reducing my excuses to zero, and 3) she opened my eyes to the possibility that writing all this down might be more than entertaining; it just might be therapeutic (it is!). Plus, we all know that sometimes you just need a little extra encouragement to stop dragging your feet (or sitting on your ass) in order to finally begin to pursue a long-talked about goal or dream.
So, for all that and more, my dear Mariposa, I thank you.
I want to take a minute out of my busy blogging schedule to give overdue (though not long, since I've really only just begun) thanks and credit to the person who helped me get this thing started. Of course, one could say I really didn't need any help; after all, blogging is pretty easy. But the truth is 1) without her, I would have remained unaware of how perfect the blog format is for what I wanted to accomplish, 2) she wrote down the website to use, thus reducing my excuses to zero, and 3) she opened my eyes to the possibility that writing all this down might be more than entertaining; it just might be therapeutic (it is!). Plus, we all know that sometimes you just need a little extra encouragement to stop dragging your feet (or sitting on your ass) in order to finally begin to pursue a long-talked about goal or dream.
So, for all that and more, my dear Mariposa, I thank you.
Short Dream
Jeckle and I are in the basement/garage of the house we grew up in (the brown house on Brown Street). It is dark and cluttered; unfamiliar. It feels more like a tomb or crypt. We're looking through stuff, moving things around. We're searching for something; a clue?
I look over towards the middle of the garage part and a refrigerator materializes. As I walk up to it, writing appears, like when something's been written in lemon juice and then a match is held under the paper. The writing looks rusty around the edges. As I get nearer, I am able to make out the words, "I will miss you." The rest seems to be in code. I call Jeckle over. We know it is from Hyde. It's what we were looking for.
I look over towards the middle of the garage part and a refrigerator materializes. As I walk up to it, writing appears, like when something's been written in lemon juice and then a match is held under the paper. The writing looks rusty around the edges. As I get nearer, I am able to make out the words, "I will miss you." The rest seems to be in code. I call Jeckle over. We know it is from Hyde. It's what we were looking for.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Live Action Figures
O.K. here is a link to a video on YouTube, courtesy of my cousin, Truman (son of "JFK"). He's the featured performer (with good reason-he's so darn cute!), but when you enter the 1 minute 36 second to 2 minutes 10 seconds stretch, you will see me (red striped shirt, major tow-head), Jeckle (I lean over to her in the my chair), Hyde (orange shirt, black-rim glasses, looking VERY uncomfortable), and Mom (to the left of Hyde).
Daddy must have been gone fishin'...
You need to cut and paste the link.
Thanks, Cousin!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Uzo2BMAJXw
Daddy must have been gone fishin'...
You need to cut and paste the link.
Thanks, Cousin!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Uzo2BMAJXw
Curiouser and Curiouser
I've just finished re-reading "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time," which is told from the perspective of a fifteen-year-old boy who is autistic, although that is never made explicit in the book. It's funny how things show up in one's life just when one needs them. Although Hyde was not autistic, his mind worked in very autistic-like ways and this book helped illuminate those ways and, in the process, make Hyde more human and vulnerable for me. I have also recognized for years that Hyde was perpetually stuck in a fifteen-year-old's emotional state (the age at which he started becoming really mentally ill), so the book was interesting from that perspective, as well. Here are some excerpts:
p. 12
Prime numbers are what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you could never work out the rules, even if you spent all your time thinking about them.
p. 73-74 (in which the narrator is comparing himself to Sherlock Holmes)
I also like "The Hound of the Baskervilles" because I like Sherlock Holmes and I think that if I were a proper detective he is the kind of detective I would be. He is very intelligent and he solves the mystery and he says
"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."
But he notices them, like I do. And it also says in the book
"Sherlock Holmes had, in a very remarkable degree, the power of detaching his mind at will."
Also Doctor Watson says about Sherlock Holmes
"His mind...was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into which all these strange and apparently disconnected episodes could be fitted."
p. 116
That was because when I was little I didn't understand about other people having minds.
But the mind is just a complicated machine.
And when we look at things we think we're just looking out of our eyes like we're looking out of little windows and there's a person inside our head, but we're not. We're looking at a screen inside our heads, like a computer screen.
p. 12
Prime numbers are what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you could never work out the rules, even if you spent all your time thinking about them.
p. 73-74 (in which the narrator is comparing himself to Sherlock Holmes)
I also like "The Hound of the Baskervilles" because I like Sherlock Holmes and I think that if I were a proper detective he is the kind of detective I would be. He is very intelligent and he solves the mystery and he says
"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."
But he notices them, like I do. And it also says in the book
"Sherlock Holmes had, in a very remarkable degree, the power of detaching his mind at will."
Also Doctor Watson says about Sherlock Holmes
"His mind...was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into which all these strange and apparently disconnected episodes could be fitted."
p. 116
That was because when I was little I didn't understand about other people having minds.
But the mind is just a complicated machine.
And when we look at things we think we're just looking out of our eyes like we're looking out of little windows and there's a person inside our head, but we're not. We're looking at a screen inside our heads, like a computer screen.
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