Life At An Amusement Park

It’s been going on for five days now, minute by minute mood swings making me feel like a shooting gallery duck; dense anxiety like heavy fog, and a degree of indecision that stops my movement like a pause button.

indecisiveFor instance, this morning I couldn’t decide between chocolate milk or hot chocolate, behaving like the child at the soda fountain musing over nuts or no nuts. Ten minutes of my partner hustling through the house when at last he stopped, uttered some variation on a familiar expletive, poured a tall glass of cool milk, dumped the equivalent of a chocolate cake into the milk, dropped in a spoon, spun it about without dissolving anything causing it to resemble a freshly unplugged toilet, then brusquely presented it as though I was a fussy child, followed by that variant expletive and walked into the backyard.

I ask, is this the behavior of a fifty-five year old man, highly educated, and graced with an innate aptitude for johnny-on-the-spot decisions?

hammerToday was the first day of my 96 hour ride on the infamous carnival ride, The Hammer, in which you swing forward and back forward and back, etc.  Today was also the first time of my 96 hour disturbing mental yo-yo that the Midway seemed like an appropriate place to live. I’d fit in quite nicely with the Fun House, the Freak Show, ping-pong ball goldfish toss, and the notorious ring the Coke bottle.

But there’s been nothing amusing about my minute-to-minute change in behavior, the confusion which renders me speechless, the marathon of apologies, emptiness to the depth of a wino’s bottle, and then a creeping attack of self-doubt, self-worth, even writing was tortuous (when I suppose its most honest.  Did you ever have those days when you wished they speed past like flashcards?  It’s only until that damned disappointing sun, weak incapable of tossing out a solar flare and incinerating the cloud cover that I felt calm. No more staring into a day of gray disappointment.grayday

Night time is the best time for me. Inside the house is quiet and familiar like an old dog and outside is awash in black and could be anywhere in the world.


4 thoughts on “Life At An Amusement Park

  1. As you know I’ve been to a similar amusement park on two occasions, but I didn’t like the rides and didn’t stay long. Yet I’m concerned not only about your current difficulty, but by your self-identification as a lunatic. I can’t know what is going on inside you, but (having been there, done that, and got the crummy T-shirt,) I know you’re probably spending a great deal of time just sitting and letting your mind wander where it will. Nothing wrong with protracted woolgathering, unless you never use the wool. Think on this piece of wool… nobody, but nobody has a perfect mind, and there is more to you than your quirky mind. If writing is not working for you right now (although I think this post was the most coherent and direct of what I’ve seen recently), then let it go for now, play with the dog, start or finish a woodworking project. And try thinking of yourself as just as a good man, not a lunatic, for that is what you’ll always be to me…a very good man.


  2. Your pessimistic view of this particular moment in you life,will be washed away by your innate optimism that always has been a trademark of your existence.



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