"Coming to Buffalo" (a romantic tragedy) 3-21-13

I’m probably overreacting to a run of recent bad luck with the ladies but lately through the help of several women I have discovered something. I am apparently a mutant. I’ve discovered lately that I am undesirable in pretty much every way possible. I get it ladies. I’m too fat, too poor, too this, too that… I get it. Can’t you see I’m tapping out? You see, lately I’ve been trying to talk to several women, to get to know them, so they could get to know me and I am not exaggerating when I say NONE of them want anything to do with me. Historically my confidence can go up or down and those times when it’s low I keep a low profile. I wouldn’t have the issue I’m having now. When I’m down, I don’t leave the house much and spend most of my time inside my head lamenting who I turned out to be. When it’s higher or at a normal level, like it has been lately, I am proud of who I am and I think of all the wonderful possibilities a relationship might provide and the many things I could give to her. When my confidence is solid I will approach women I like and attempt to talk to them. But I always struggle with forced conversation. On the one hand I tell myself, you might only have this one chance to speak to this person, go do it! Then on the other hand when I do head over and try to begin a conversation the words never come out right. I feel like a phony, like I’m on some sleazy audition and I have 30 seconds to impress this person before she yells out “next!”

Last night was the latest stumble. A female who came in a few weeks back at the end of the open mic came back, once again at the end of the open mic. I saw her walk in the building and my eyes were set ablaze. She wasn’t what you’d call a stunner but she looked really cute to me. For me it was her eyes and her energy. Her eyes had power behind them. She had a fun, dynamic aura like she was never afraid to speak her mind but at the same time didn’t take herself too seriously. Plus she was wearing a vintage style leather jacket. I love a woman who can wear a vintage leather jacket or a jean jacket for that matter… those are my favorites. When she came in the last time I made my way towards the door before she left with every intention of talking to her but I got involved in a conversation with a friend who was there and then she suddenly walked by and as she did our eyes locked and she smiled. I froze. I let myself get distracted and I wasn’t ready. I basically had a split second window and flopped.

So she came in again last night. Again I positioned myself near the door before the end of the show. When it ended she turned to walk towards the door to leave and passed by me again but before she could pass by I blurted out something to the effect of “Hey, weren’t you here a few weeks back”. She confirmed she was and I mentioned how it seemed she’s come in at the end of the open mic both times. She revealed that she has a commitment at the same time as the open mic but tried to stop by on her way home. I replied that I thought that was too bad and mentioned how sometimes the open mic goes later but it depended on the number of artists that night. I looked down at her backpack and I saw a yoga mat attached to it. Perhaps she was coming from a yoga class. Say something! My mind was struggling to come up with another sentence and before I could get out another word she left. Great conversation Ed! She didn’t seem terribly impressed or interested in me but I didn’t have anything too great to say. Something inside of me just panicked when I saw her again. I thought, ooh second chance, don’t waste it and something propelled me over to talk to her without really thinking it through… it showed.

I had given up online dating for the better part of a month but some of my friends have been having luck lately so I decided to give it one more try. This time I was going to go all in. I signed up on match instead of free websites and I bought a nice 3-month membership. This is where the serious people go… the people who are willing to put their money where their mouth is. I checked out many profiles. I entered in a nice age range of about 12 years, looked for women without children and made sure to block out those who smoke.

Anyway, after going through many profiles I found 3 out of the 304 in my search results that I liked, that intrigued enough to write. Of course some of the best looking profiles on there were of friends of mine! I swear there were no less than 6 of my female friends on there and damn if they were not some of the best sounding and best looking profiles in this area! That said, I wrote to all 3 of the women I was interested in a few days ago… so far none have written back. So last night after my failure at the open mic I went back on and tried hard to find a few more that interest me. This is so tough! I’m picky even though I know, on paper I have no reason to be. I don’t necessarily put all my eggs in one basket but let’s just say I don’t have many baskets.  

It was like the poem I wrote and performed yesterday was a premonition to how I would feel. Well, obviously it is how I feel and the last 24 hours really topped it off. The poem starts; “Use caution- you don’t want to get involved with a guy like me”. Seems about right these days. I feel like a mutant.

All I’ve ever wanted is someone who will like me for who I am. In my dreams I’m like Eddie Murphy’s character Prince Akeem from Coming to America (one of my favorite movies by the way). Akeem pretends to be a poor African student and tries to find someone who will love him for who he is rather than because he is the super-rich Prince of Zamunda. If I can find someone who will want to be with me warts and all, then I’ll know she’s not only a keeper but is there for the long haul. The only difference in the plan is once the woman falls in love with Akeem, he would reveal that he is a Prince whereas I will reveal that I really like Prince. But hey, at least I don’t work at McDowell’s! If you’ve never seen the movie, first of all shame on you, secondly you won’t understand that last paragraph.  

Maybe it’s a cynical part of me but like Prince Akeem I worry that if I ever get to where I want to be on my own, you know slimmer, happier, a little better off financially and someone does fall for me then, will it be real? I mean would that person still want to be with me if I gained weight, had money troubles and basically went to where I am now? I want to connect heart and soul, not looks and pocketbook. I feel like giving up on it. Is there no one out there for me? Sometimes I wonder if I will ever find her in this town. Maybe I’ll move to Queens.

For my friend Colby (3-15-13)

I lost a friend today. Not an old friend, a school friend, work friend or sports friend… a furry friend. It wasn’t a huge surprise because the poor little guy had been in a very long fight and finally, it was time. I guess that makes it easier to accept but not easier to handle, especially in the short term. On my walk into work today I think I cried for about 30 of the 40 minutes of it. I walked down less busy streets with my hood up and my head down as I thought about the loss of my little friend.

The friend I lost today was Colby. If you looked through my photos on facebook you’ve might have seen him a few times. He was my roommate Jamie’s cat. He was a diabetic and had been for a little over 3 of his 11 years. From what I understand he outlived his expectations but after knowing him for over 6 months now I’m not surprised. Colby was a tough cat. Do you know the term “man’s man”? Well Colby was a cat’s cat. Of the 3 cats I’ve lived with, he was the toughest and I say this with only the experience of knowing him for the last 200 days of his life. He provided me with so many laughs, memories and stories in the time I knew him.

When I moved into the new place at the end of August I bonded with Bailey immediately. Bailey is a 10 year old cat but if you spent a day with him you’d never believe it. He’s a kitten deep down and with me and my young heart we hit it off very well. I probably enjoy playing with him as much as he enjoys it. Also with Bailey being so affectionate and sweet anyone who knows me would have guessed we would have become BFFs. We’re the same in many ways. With Lana I’ve had a good relationship but Lana is more like a typical cat, albeit a nervous, skittish one. She sleeps more and isn’t nearly as needy and playful. There are some days where I am busier and my interaction with her is brief. Bailey doesn’t allow me to not spend time with him, even on a day where I’m barely home. I joked with Jamie the other night that I wanted to come home and eat right after work before going out to a few engagements I had that night but that I thought to leave work a little earlier to allow an extra 20 minutes of “Bailey time”.

With Colby the relationship has progressed over the 6+ months. At first I kept a respectful distance from him. He could be a little temperamental, mostly due to the diabetes and the effect it had on him, so early on he usually wasn’t friendly with me. I didn’t blame him. He also didn’t know me. The first week I lived there he bit me because I either pet him at a bad time or maybe he hadn’t decided if I could pet him so familiarly yet. He was a loyal cat and was kind of like a big brother figure to the others. He’d go over and smack Bailey if he was being too rambunctious (which was often) and he’d let Lana know the deal when she lashed out at him due her skittishness or paranoia which was often unfounded. When Bailey tried to play rough with Lana, he'd put an end to it. He would be aggressive with the others when needed but he would watch out for them too. Due to the illness he had good days and bad days and on the bad days it was usually best to give him some space and quiet. He also had the biggest appetite of any cat I’ve ever seen. It might have had something to do with his illness but I heard he had a pretty hearty appetite prior to that as well… perhaps that appetite is what got him in trouble in the first place. You could almost never cook anything or have a meal in the house without his familiar meowing and mooching for a portion. Sometimes, if you weren’t careful he’d steal a chicken wing, a bone, a piece of meat, etc. right off your plate. One night I heard Jamie yell out “Hey! You asshole!” from another room only to find out Colby snatched a piece of steak or some tasty treat right from her plate as she tried to eat dinner. It made me laugh so much. He was bold and he was always hungry. This meant I stayed locked in my room, far away from him whenever I ate.  

By the end of my 2^nd month living with the cats my body had adjusted to them. I no longer got sniffly in their presence and their fur, saliva or whatever it is that makes people sensitive or allergic to them no longer had any effect on me. It was as I'd hoped. I had grown up with several cats and dogs but I hadn’t had any pets for 13-14 years so whenever I would go to a place with them I would get a runny rose and itchy eyes. I wasn’t used to them anymore. When I first moved in to this place I had both the runny nose and itchy eyes sometimes but since I didn’t allow the cats in my room, we had hardwood floors throughout the house (instead of carpeting) and I would sweep up the living room from time to time I think it helped to ease my transition. So by the end of my 2^nd month I decided to lift the cat ban on my room. My door was now open to them. Bailey obviously loved this as he was the one trying to force his way in most often but the other 2 cats began to stop by and found comfortable spots. I also loosened up in other ways, like whenever I had chicken, turkey or something Jamie approved of for Colby, I started to give him a few pieces instead of ignoring his pleas.

Now after 2 months I was letting the cats come and go as they pleased, even through my room plus I giving them, well Colby, some samples of the foods he cried so hard for. I was getting used to them and vice versa. With Colby it seemed like the more I opened myself up to him, the more he did to me. We became friends. I’d talk with him and tell him whenever I was going to have chicken or turkey next, you know, give him the scoop… as if he wouldn’t have come out from anywhere in the house the second he smelled the food anyway. Many mornings he’d come by my room while I was at my desk drinking my green tea or catching up on emails before work and he’d tap me on the leg with one of his paws to get my attention. That was his way of telling me he wanted to be pet. I’d pet him for a few minutes and he’d be all set. He was never as needy as Lana can be sometimes and Bailey is all the time. It really seemed like the longer I lived with him the better friends we became. I began to understand him. Unfortunately our time ran out today.  

This past month the long term effects of his diabetes were really obvious. He had lost half his body weight from 16 to 8 pounds, his hind legs were getting really shaky and his “bad days” were becoming really bad days. He was having trouble going to the bathroom, trouble climbing up on things he used to always hop up to easily and he just looked so frail and sick. The little guy just kept fighting though because he was that tough. He’d have an awful day and then rebound a little for a few days or a week before having another bad one. He’s really looked like he’s been at the end for several weeks now and those rebound days were nice but even on days where he seemed better it was only relative to how bad he had been the day before. Despite the glimpses he wasn’t the same cat he was a few months ago, let alone the cat he must have been in the years before I knew him.

Last night I made some chicken and he went bananas. He meowed in his distinctive style and even stood up on his hind legs against the counter. We hadn't seen that from him lately. I remarked to Jamie that it was “vintage Colby”. After getting the green light I gave him a small piece of chicken after it sufficiently cooled and he gobbled it right up and within a second was asking for more. This happened 3 more times, I’d give him a very small piece and he’d gobble it up and request another serving. I finally gave him a chunk instead of a sliver and he gobbled that right up but then surprisingly walked away. I thought that was odd. Usually I’m the one who walks away leaving behind an apology for the insatiable cat.  

Within a half hour of eating the chicken Colby threw up at least 3 separate times and that sparkle in his eye that was there when he was begging for food in the kitchen was completely gone and replaced by a distant look. It was like he tried one last time to be himself but as much as he wanted it; his body was just too far gone. He also tried with no success to go to the bathroom at least 15 times, a continuation of a problem he’s had this week. He tried to hop on top of the dining room table (one of his favorite hang out spots) but couldn’t make the jump nor land on his feet when he didn’t. It had gotten to the point where you have to ask yourself, how much is enough? Do you keep him around for a few more weeks, days or however long he has left just because? Last night he also did something that Jamie had never before seen, he actually asked to go inside his cat carrier. All 3 of these guys would traditionally run for the hills when their carriers were taken out. She interpreted this as Colby telling her it’s time. It was one of the saddest things I ever saw. As proud as he is, I went to sleep last night thinking about how hard life must be for him of late where it seems his body keeps letting him down, one thing after the next while there was absolutely no way he would get better. And now it was like he finally knew too.

When I woke up this morning I knew this was going to be the last day I’d see Colby and I thought of my favorite memory of him. Back in the fall during football season I’d have some friends over to watch Bills games. It was usually a painful experience but we often made the most of it. We brought food and treats and sometimes a few beers and we’d cheer, yell and undoubtedly laugh. The noise and commotion kept Bailey and Lana away from wanting to join us but Colby would often stroll right into our get-together like he owned the place, which of course was always how he walked into a room, lol. He’d mooch for food but this one time he did something that had me laughing so hard my jaw hurt.

He hopped up on the coffee table in front of where Andrew was sitting. This might not have been a problem except Andrew was slouched back on the couch and Colby was standing as tall as he could thus obscuring Andrew’s view of the television and the game. Andrew then said; “Hey cat, you’re in my way!” to which Colby prompted smacked Andrew’s pack of cigarettes right off the coffee table and onto the floor. My other guest and I were rolling. It was like he was saying "Hey buddy, don't forget this is MY place." It was vintage Colby.

When I left the house for work today I went over and pet his little head. I wanted to say something to him but I was within nanoseconds of completely losing it so I couldn’t speak. That’s why there were waterworks pretty much the whole walk to work and most of the time typing this. I feel very sad… sad on a selfish level for losing a relatively new friend that I really liked… sad for my roommate and friend who has lost a member of her family but I'm also happy… happy that Colby doesn’t have to suffer anymore. He had nothing left to prove… he was as tough as they come. A cat’s cat. Ironically, today is Colby’s 11^th and last birthday. I don’t know what else to say except happy birthday, thank you and rest well my little friend. I will miss you.

These pictures are from his last night with us. 

Like the Movies... a Modern Day Fairy Tale (3-7-13)

This past weekend I got caught up on many little projects and errands that I had been putting off, none larger nor longer overdue than getting my DVDs in order. You see, a few years ago I wanted to put together a comprehensive movie list. I wanted to create a list of all the titles I have, all the titles I want and put myself in a position where I could update these lists regularly. For whatever reason, probably laziness, I didn’t do it but lately my movie collection has grown so large I felt compelled to get a handle on it. So I entered in the title of every single film I own onto a spreadsheet and finally got a count. What’s the number? 645 DVDs. I have 645 movies… at least as I’m typing this and that doesn’t factor in the 34 seasons of TV shows, the 17 musical DVDs, the 8 poetry DVDs, 29 stand up comedy DVDs, 10 sports DVDs and 17 DVDs of documentaries, short films and other fun stuff.

It’s turned into quite the collection but the movies drive it. I usually pick up one or two a week on average, mostly used but always in great shape and mostly from places online where I think the prices are best. You’re probably thinking to yourself, Ed must really love movies, where does he find the time to watch all of them? I do love movies but to be honest with you, I haven’t even watched half of them yet. They come in much faster than I watch them, and quite frankly, the ones I have seen I probably saw before I acquired them. In fact, I can’t even tell you when the last time was that I pulled a movie from the collection that I hadn’t seen and watched it alone. I’m simply not trying to watch many of them… yet. Despite all of that I feel compelled to get stuff I loved from childhood, classics I might have missed out on and intriguing new releases that interest me. The collection must grow!

So what are you waiting for Ed? Why haven’t you been watching them? More on that later.

For as long as I can remember I’ve always loved movies. I saw my first movie when my brother Bryan took me to see Ghostbusters when I was little and I never looked back. During the late 80’s when my dad would finally spring for movie channels, boy did I watch a lot of them. The month that Star Wars finally came to HBO I watched it so much that my father started to hate that movie. In the early 90’s my dad bought our first VCR. I would get tons of blank tapes and record every movie I could. We were poor so we weren’t going to get too many new movies in their original cases. But I could buy multi-packs of blank videotapes for less than the cost of a new movie. So I would use 6 hour tapes and usually put 3 dramas or 4 comedies on them. When I encountered a 3-hour film, I’d put another 3-hour film on the same tape, usually of the same genre. Sometimes I’d have more than 10 “active” tapes just waiting to be finished off with a movie close enough to the ones already on there. I would do theme tapes like a Quentin Tarantino tape, a Tom Hanks tape, a Bill Murray tape and so on. If it turned out a movie sucked, I’d record over it with a better one. I amassed a huge collection of tapes and I learned there was nothing I enjoyed more than watching those tapes with my friends. I mean why have anything worth having if you can’t share it with others? It started a habit I’ve never really been able to shake, but again, more on that later. I love watching movies with other people but only under the right conditions. I’ve tried to watch serious films with meatheads and horror movies with people who can’t keep their eyes open. I’ve learned that I don’t like to watch movies alone but I can’t watch them with just anyone. I guess this makes things more complicated.

Yes, more complicated. When it’s something I’ve already seen I have no problem watching it alone, some films in fact will cause me to stop whatever I am doing or make me late getting to wherever I was going because I love them so much and have to watch some if not all of them. I’ve seen the original Star Wars at least 50 times and probably Empire and Jedi just as many times. Off the top of my head I know I’ve seen Die Hard, the American President, the Princess Bride, Ferris Bueller, Coming to America, Blazing Saddles, the Matrix, the Breakfast Club, Goodfellas, the Godfather, Spaceballs, the Crow, Friday, Office Space, When Harry Met Sally, Ghostbusters, Beetlejuice, Big Trouble in Little China, and Enter the Dragon at least 20 times each.

I treat my movie collection the way a stamp collector treats their stamps or the way a doll collector treats their dolls. I loathe to let anyone else touch them unsupervised and I really don’t like to lend them out. I love to share my movies with people but I like to be there to share it with them. Call me a bit selfish but lending out a movie, especially one that I haven’t even seen yet to someone else to watch with their significant other or gasp, alone makes me a sad panda. Maybe it’s because I grew up poor and never had much that I cling to this collection so tight. Maybe it’s my pride from slowly building it over many years or perhaps it’s something else.

About 11 years ago I fell in love for the first time and for all the wonderful things finding a partner presented one of the things that I thought about most was; now I’ll have someone to share my movies with! Of course back then I still had a massive VHS tape collection and was probably just starting to add DVDs to it but the sentiment was no less important to me. The relationship while wonderful, was complicated. It became difficult because not too long into it she had to move to another state for a college internship. We kept things going for as long as we could I guess and I visited her every month, sometimes for as long as a week but I couldn’t really bring the movies with me. It would have been impractical to pack my suitcase full of videos when I needed clothes and other, more important things for a trip spanning several days. In absence of that we rented a few and went to the theater a few times but sad to say we never had the chance to watch that many together, especially from my cherished collection.

When that relationship ended it only strengthened my resolve to find someone to just kick back and watch some of these movies with. It’s not even a case where I am fanatical about watching every single one, because let’s face it, the chances of me finding someone who will want to watch every one of them are incredibly remote. I’m realistic about that. I just want someone who loves movies and would be into watching many of them with me. In a perfect world, she’d have a collection of her own whether it was movies, music or whatever and she could share that with me while I shared with her… a man can dream right?

Shortly after that relationship ended my life turned into a Seinfeld episode, sizing up women on first dates as to whether they were sponge-worthy, but in this case the “sponges” were my movie collection. I wanted to find someone ready to settle down. Actually I’ve always had trouble with the term “settle down”. I know I’m using a different interpretation of the word settle, but it feels like settling down sounds like you’ve settled for something. Like maybe you shot for the moon, but settled for something less than that and called it a day. I dunno, I guess I prefer the term “calmed down” as in we don’t need to go out so often looking for things because most of what we need is right beside us.

My fairy tale is that I love movies. Then I was in love with her. Then I wanted to share my great movie collection that means so much to me with her, but then there was no her so I keep collecting them and I hardly watch them until the next “she” comes and honors me with love and her desire to watch them with me once in a while. So I keep collecting until she collects me. Maybe it’s a foolish quest to you but to me it means everything. Perhaps I’m a modern day Don Quixote. But I dream the impossible dream and I wait for her. And when I find her, by the looks of it, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.