A Beautiful Mind

Pop's computer was dead black. While I was working on it, I mentioned Pop's clickity toys, the ones that are set off with the sunlight, recalling that argument over the kitchen clock that is still not too far away from mind and memory. I said, "See, this is how we're different. I cannot stand all this clickity, tickity, clackity stuff, while you actively bring it into your life and live with it." He said, "That's because I concentrate so hard, I don't notice it." This annoyed me, this assumption that he is my intellectual superior, that he has this impressively strong mind - he, a borderline retard. I said, "I need to hear myself actually think. All you do is read obituaries."

But Pop obviously wasn't moved by any of this. This hurts me, it hits deeper. Arguably, there is only one redeeming feature in my life, and that is this 'thinking mind' that I got, for want of a better phrase. If Pop cannot give me credit for that, then, wow, how he must see me - a pathetic waste of meat and bones! The trick, I guess, is that intelligence is kind of key to personality, and no one wants to think of themselves as being dumber. So, I guess I'm just fucked if I am hoping to be respected for my mind. After all, there is something to be said for the idea that if you are so smart, why ain't you rich? And this is Pop's hard position, too. For him, dollars is the only truly reliable measure of IQ. Money talks, bullshit walks. It would be one thing if I graduated from law school and were now making six figures dressed in a suit, but since that didn't happen, and since I am living off of him and his dollars, what kind of bullshit am I trying to spread? And so my life limps on.

There is no real love for me, or even simple fondness, coming from any quarter, and certainly not from my e-life. Hell, even when mother was here, she was jiving me too! If it were not for self-love, I'd have no love at all, and the truth is, I don't really like myself all that much either. Being ugly and poor just isn't very good for your profile. One conceivably could still win big points by being a saint, a sort of Mother Theresa, but I guess my self-absorption, along with my interest in misogynistic sex and young girls, kind of closes off that route.

Pizza

Tomorrow is Grocery Day. Pop surprised me by his call to get the water today. We usually take care of it all in one day. However, I took the opportunity clear the way for me to pick up a pizza while we were out. It has been a long time since I had a real pizza, a non-frozen pizza.

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Little Caesar's was always hit & miss as far as its pizzas are concerned, but this was another 'miss' in an appreciable string of misses. They seem to focus now more on speed than quality. I think I am going to have to give up on them. If I want a non-frozen pizza, I think I need to see about trying another place.

La Vida Loca

On my Friends Page at LJ, on ONTD, I see that Ricky Martin has a new music video out: "Perdóname". I was never a fan, of course, but I remember when he burst on the scene with "La Vida Loca", back in those early 90s, I think, and helped to define that era for me. I have not seen anything of him almost since that time. I'm surprised that he still looks good, but, then, googling, I see that he is a bit younger than I am, 44 years old. Plus, he was always a pretty boy. Looking at his net worth, he has not done badly: 60 million dollars, U.S. dollars. I wonder if he went into the music business as a rich man, from a rich family, or if he is just a very shrewd good investor.

Regarding "La Vida Loca", after doing some more googling, I see that my memory is playing more tricks on me. I read that the song was released in 1999. That totally mystifies me. I was so sure that it was part of my Bay Horse years, part of the whole "Melrose Place" vibe. I am tempted to think that the Internet info must be based on a re-release date of the song, but I know how wildly unreliable my memory is. Or maybe I just have a tendency to push all my pre-blog life back to those golden Bay Horse years, dismissing everything that happened in the years since 1997 that we have lived here on the Hill before we had the Internet. The Internet, of course, gave life its special glow again.