Burning Down The House

  Lean on Me I made the decision this week that I am committed to do (1) blog post per week for the rest of 2025.  Who knows if that will stick.  I always wanted to write something.  I was never exactly sure what to write about.  "They" say, everyone has a book in them.  Who are "they" anyway?  I think they is part voice in your head and part an asshole that you met at a dinner party.  "They" say egg yolk causes high cholesterol.  "They" say you can grow your hair back using topical spray.  "They" say if your house burns down you should blog about it and turn it into a book. "Sometimes in our lives.  We all have pain.  We all have sorrow.  But if we are wise. We know that there's always tomorrow." So if I write 52 blogs in a year, that's about 100 to 150 pages of material.  If I double space and increase the font like I did in school, it could be like 250 pages.  If I add pictures, 300.  Now I have a book....

  It doesn't feel real.  Will it ever? It's been 2 weeks since our house burned down.  Many have encouraged me to keep writing.  I think mostly because they think since my house burned down, I need a "feelings outlet."  I am the Mayor of Compartmentalizing Your Feelings City.   It's the city I visit when shit happens.  When life happens.  It's quiet.  It's cerebral. It's non-verbal.  It's probably not healthy.  When shit happens to Wendy, she cleans.  When shit happens to me, I eat.  I'm the only person that has gained weight during dry January.  Yes, I'm 23 days in; my house burned down; and I've had 0 cocktails.  I'm really looking forward to Heroin February.  Sorry to joke about heroin addiction.  But I should get a pass, right?  How long should I get a pass for sarcastic, angry, short-tempered, forgetful, fuck it behavior?  More than 2 weeks. That's for sure. "Opened my eyes to a new kind ...

The Fire Before the Storm I'm sticking with the song lyric theme.  It's been 10 days since our house burned down.  I've been feeling like I'm in a fog lately.  What just happened?  I ask Wendy, "Can you believe it?"  I woke up today feeling like it's time for some therapy writing, some introspectiveness, some reminiscing. "Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away.  Now it looks as though they're here to stay.  Oh, I believe in yesterday." Just a reminder that I am not a therapist,  I'm a Hereiswhatimthinkin'ist.  WARNING: Some of this may sound messed up.   "How are you?" My house burned down.  "We feel so bad for you." Makes sense.  My house burned down.  "Is there anything you need?" Do you have a Coke Zero?  My house burned down.  I know.  This doesn't sound like Mr. Positive from 10 days ago.  It sounds like a guy whose house just burned down.  People definitely are treating me differ...

1057 Chautauqua Blvd. (After) Our house burned down in the Palisades fire.  There.  I said it.  It’s real now.  I guess.  Not 100% sure why I am writing this. Probably some type of therapy.  I’ve never been to therapy.  My home was my therapy.  Wendy and I moved into 1057 Chautauqua in 1998 when our daughter Julia was born.  We were just starting our 27th year there, when Wendy called me on Tuesday and said, “I’m driving down Sunset and there are a lot of fire trucks heading into the Palisades. Can you check what's going on?" My first thought was, “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”   “Ah, watch out.  You might get what you're after. Cool babies. Strange but not a stranger. I'm an ordinary guy.”  After her 2nd call, I walked outside and saw flames on the hillside in the distance.  Didn’t seem that close.  My buddy Bill said the wind was blowing in the other direction and we shouldn’t worry.  He was the "Hindsight Und...