The Downward Spiral....
Again Mr. Smarty Pants has been inconsistent with his posts. But of late i've been fairly inconsistent with any form of communication other than the proffesional concerns of work and a few talks with mom.....other than that i have rarely communicated over the last couple of weeks....and the trend continues to grow. Mr. Smarty Pants has recieved e-mails from acquaintances asking why i've gone MIA...but i don't respond as it would totally defeat the purpose of being MIA thus making it an oxymoron. And Mr. Smart Pants has had another revelation....i am an alcoholic. Albeit a functional one but a boozer nonetheless. Never on a weekday. Never at work. Never when on the motorbike. But always on any free day alone when all necessary and distracting tasks are completed and the mind is free to focus on despair i turn to my friend. Shelly West said it best....

"All those little shooters
How I love to drink them down
Come on bar tender lets have another round
Well the music is playing
And my spirits are high
Tomorrow might be painful
But tonight we're going to fly

Jose Cuervo
You are friend of mine
I like to drink you with
A little salt and lime
Everytime we get together
I sure have a good time
You're my friend, you're the best
Mi amigo"

Mr. Smarty Pants will not go into detail as to the quantity of booze involved in his binges but lets just say that i can enter a local liquor store and conduct a business transaction without a word being exchanged. Not to mention if i ever skipped a weekend those same establishments may post a "have you seen this man?" photo of yours truly between the lottery machine and the donation can with the starving dog on it. (which by the way....i always stuff a few bills in that can...)
In any case it seems Mr. Smarty Pants is finding his own company less and less tolerable. And barring the distractions of work at the hospital or at the clinic...my time alone seems to leave me little recourse. Weekends are a thankful blur for the most part but i am well aware that the road i've been taking can only lead to worse places not better ones. And what is a bit more disturbing is the fact that i don't seem to care. Sort of like driving a car towards a distant wall at high speed...being conscious of it....but not diverting from it. I would use the term "self destruction" were it not for the fact that it seems too dramatic considering my placidity and nonchalance despite a growing demise...

But in fact...who gives a shit..??
i mean really...who..??

Apparently not Mr. Smarty Pants. And his is the only opinion that seems to count at this time. I must remember to tell my doc that the antidepressants he prescribed apparently um....suck. And Mr. Smarty Pants does not want to "talk" about it just yet.
Talk is cheap.

So in the meantime you can watch the results of a life that reads like a collaboration between Shakespeare and Scorsese on Taxi Driver with Sartre and Dostoevsky in charge of cinematography. And in the meantime i asked to be assigned to the brain injury unit at work. Historically this is the least requested assignment. Historically Mr. Smarty Pants usually requests these assignments. There is something comforting about misery. It has no pretense. And it's in this environment that i seem to offer the greatest benefit. Not to mention it offers great perspective. And it gives me function. Without purpose i am nothing.

"Pour your misery down on me..." Garbage.

The story is long and convoluted and occasionally i may offer more detailed insight. But in the meantime feel free to watch a descent in progress....Live on the net...for your amusement, benefit, horror, and enlightenment.

Mr. Smarty Pants has been feeling a bit bi-polar of late. Feeling a bit manic as well. I believe it has something to do with constantly looking at the "big picture" while concurrently being both annoyed and ceaselessly shocked at the pettiness and insignificant concerns of the average person.....or as i call them....sheep. And selfish narcissistic sheep at that. And did i mention stupid too?
Now....Mr. Smarty Pants would never consider himself as elitist or bourgeois as he finds such behavior offensive and deserving of my personal brand of philosophical whoop-ass after which i'll burn some bridges and salt the earth a bit. This of course feeds into the isolation of Mr. Smarty Pants. Now...for the most part when being alone means being at peace we call it solitude. When alone but in some form of turmoil or disillusionment we call it isolation. I am now in the latter phase. Ironically the more self aware and informed of the truth i am...the more angry, numb and brooding i become. Thus ignorance is bliss. And Mr. Smarty Pants knows nothing of bliss. And ignorance is not an option. So thus i am cursed to live and deal with myself, maintain a facade of sanity and stability while tending to professional and personal responsibility and occasionally venting in one form or another so as to prevent a complete descent into madness. A partial descent is acceptable...Mr. Smarty Pants has been operating in that mode for quite a while now. But a complete descent...not a pretty picture.
So...as part of my cooling off period i'm trying to avoid all forms of media which at this moment affects Mr. Smarty Pants the way a shellfish allergy would. After all i live in a city that places ads over urinals, news flashes on cabs and phone booths, and 6 figure income 20 year old's reading the WSJ on the subway lament the incivilities of the third world while the homeless guy standing next to them has a bowel movement in his pants. So...needless to say to avoid media in NYC you would have to be Helen Keller after polishing off a bottle of Jaeger while locked in a safe during a blackout. Not an easy task. So my days have consisted of riding my motorcycle interspersed with some basic tasks like work, feeding, the occasional movie and some biological functions i need not mention. All this just to maintain the bit of sanity which remains piloting a small boat in an ocean of chaos and malice.
Deep eh..??
Note to self....i need to cut my hair...i have a Steven Segal thing going on which is a definite no-no.
One last note...Football season is back....Mr. Smarty Pants loves football. He loves the Jets in particular. They mirror his life. Each game begins with the anticipation of knowing anything is possible....the confidence that the talent exists to succeed beyond all measure....and the horrible awakening to the fact that in the end you must have been delirious seeing how you got your ass kicked so hard that to sit on a toilet you'll have to roll down your turtleneck.
Until next time......

Adieu....

Once again Mr. Smarty Pants has been on hiatus from his blogging. This has been caused by a combination of poor time management and a bit of a sour mood. The latter caused primarily by the failure of my road test. Personally i thought i did quite well especially considering i was on a "Strange" bike, but not well enough for the chain smoking, blind, dragon lady of a DMV official (who vaguely resembled Penny Marshall). She told Mr. Smarty Pants that his turns were too tight and i didn't yield to traffic quantifying a "dangerous action" and automatic failure. At first my thought was to demonstrate to her what i considered to be a "dangerous action". But being for the most part a rational and non-violent person i held my sharpened tongue in check lest i dig a deeper hole for myself. And i have quite a talent for digging holes whilst my climbing abilities are lacking. Other than that i've logged over 400 accident free and sometimes terrifying miles on my bike through New York City traffic. Not bad i think...but then again....not good enough. Alas..next road test on October 7. I plan to be much more conservative in my approach this time.
Nonetheless Mr. Smarty Pants is not himself..and can't pinpoint why exactly. I spoke to my mum on the phone today and she told me i didn't seem myself and asked if i was alright..?? This time i bit my tongue and proceeded to say "Yeff..i'm fime mom....ffpoff worrying fo mush wiw ya..?" She got the gist.....
Not to mention earlier in the day while writing a note in a chart at work one of the nurses walked up to me and asked why they had not been invited to the spur of the moment celebration of the birthday of one our comrades....(did you get that..??) in any case it involved a small cake that went quickly due to the fact that it was from Viniero's (or as we like to call it Venereal's...)..anyhow..i told her it was spur of the moment and anyone present was free to partake...not a big deal i thought...then she looked me square in the eyes and said..."your department is so selfish..!!" I stammered...bit my tongue again...(this time qualifying as a piercing....) and i walked away...i could feel the steam pouring out of my ears bringing my hair gel out of solution forming long curled locks to fall before my ears so i looked like some form of Puerto Rican, biker, Hasid....and as i walked away she added..."i don't know why you're always so sensitive.." Mr. Smarty Pants took some deep breaths as he walked away....and when he cycled home...he moved kinda fast.....
Oh...and then there is the fact that i haven't smoked a cigarette in 24 hours. I try not to think about it but it has been a long long time. Mr. Smarty Pants wasn't too concerned with the health hazards of smoking...but now it's a matter of economics. Economics.......how i hate economics..
September 11th. approaches and Mr. Smarty Pants has some thoughts and memories to share on that but i'll wait a bit as that deserves it's own time and space....
But...in the meantime...did everyone forget there's a war going on in Afghanistan..?? It is ya know....no one talks about it anymore probably due to Martha Stewart and American Idol being more important. And if that goes well...Mr. Bush will probably attack Iraq but only during the airing of the new episode of Survivor and fall into the pattern of bombing Baghdad every Thursday during the Friends episodes.
The peace process between Israel and Palestine is ongoing.....a piece of an Israeli here...a piece of a Palestinian there....you get the picture....ongoing. My Spiritual advisor (while rummaging through garbage bags in an alley in a drunken stupor) predicted that the two parties would one day make peace. And on that day about an hour later an asteroid would strike the earth wiping all life from it except for a small area of France. Then he asked me for 5 bucks or he predicted i would be hit in the head by a blunt object when least expected. It was worth the 5 bucks...but man....that France part is really scary.....

Mr. Smarty Pants has been absent of late.....and for this....my apologies. I guess in part it's due to the motorbike which has been quite literally an escape. I shall define this. A motorbike is solitary as is usually the rider. It exposes you to the elements...every sound and smell, moisture and dust, every element. It has no cd player or radio and forces you to carry whatever you need on your person. So you get into the habit of carrying the basic necessities...and being satisfied with them. The motorbike demands your attention clutch at the left hand, brake and throttle on the right, brake on the right foot and gearshifter on the left.....every extremity has a job to while the eyes and ears scan the area for danger and all this while maintaining your balance on 2 wheels. Not to mention...people treat you differently...people who rarely or never spoke to me all of a sudden are speaking to me. An old Pakistani guy who lives in my building stood by me smoking a cigarrette watching me polish the bike after a rain. One guy walking down the street downtown stopped for a good 3 minutes watching me warm up the bike and nodding his approval to me as i passed (how wierd is that..?) Little kids stare at me....oh i forgot...little kids always stared at me...just now it's kind of a dazed stare as opposed to a dumb stare. There is a difference ya know. Oh yes....it is a distraction indeed....i forgot to mention the sweet sound the engine makes with acceleration.....
Thusfar i havent hit anything or caused any explosions which is cool....and i take the "long" way to and from work and do silly stuff like ride to the Bronx for seafood or Brooklyn for pizza.....or to umm...Blockbuster in Astoria.
Work is good. Uneventful at the hospital...but after 9/11 a street riot might only raise an eyebrow or two and a double murder is usually preceded in the news by the term "but on a lighter note...."
And as for the world....it's still quite fucked up. I won't even go there tonite or it'll spoil my mood. Mr. Smarty Pants has a new pet peeve.....i am boycotting the "Today" show on NBC. And i should have done this a very long time ago. Why do i do this you ask..??? Because the pinheads on that show try to pass themselves off as journalists when in fact they are nothing more than soap opera stars doing a news skit where even the witticisms are scripted. My god...!!! they interview world leaders on a whim..!! Now...i know what your thinking...."...But Mr. Smarty Pants.....all tv news programs are like that...." Yes...i know this. But all the other news shows know they are full of shit or at least admit to the fact that they are really there to entertain....but the "Today" show has incredible influence on American opinion..enough influence to to create "American Heroes" or to destroy the lives and reputations of the great and the meek alike.....all whilst appealing to the lowest common denominator. So please...join me in boycotting the "Today" show. Remember...the Today show outsucks an Electrolux.
And as for my personal life...(sound of crickets chirping in darkness......image of tumbleweeds rolling along a parched landscape in a dry whistling wind.....) my personal life has been quiet. Mr. Smarty Pants sometimes finds himself missing the company of an intelligent mature woman. Sometimes even a stupid mature woman would do. In the least she would have to be a woman or hopefully resemble one. Worse comes to worse i'll buy a ferret or a pet Tarantula.
Oh...big news....i'm wearing contact lenses now. Kinda freaky. I keep reaching to take off my glasses and i almost poked my eye out several times. Today i lost one of the lenses for several hours...apparently it had slipped behind my right upper eyelid back into the cerebral cortex. The fact that i was thinking a bit more clearly made me suspicious and of course i was correct in my conclusion as to the whereabouts of this particular lens. But using a Martha Stewart website i was able to create a device that allowed me to retrieve this lens without incident or unnecessary embarassment. (fyi...glasses are uncomfortable in a full face helmet)
Well until next time....

"Stay Frosty" (Aliens 1986.....they don't make 'em like this anymore.....)

Today's topic in brief is Love.
What exactly is love you ask..?? What the fuck do i know....who do i look like Casanova..?? You see what it did to Romeo and Juliet...and that's on a good day.
Of late Mr. Smarty Pants has been preoccupied with the topic of love (new motorbike and all) ever since i met that appealing woman last weekend. Now am i trying to say that she is the "One"? No of course not..i've never been sure about anything except of course death and taxes. And besides...the last time i thought i met the "One" i woke up in an upper east side apartment two days gone from memory...vague remembrances of a ride in a silver Corvette and a bar named Brownies and a girl that reminded me of Nancy Spungen sleeping next to me wearing a volume of makeup that should not be seen in daylight. That was a long time ago....Mr. Smarty Pants wasn't always smart...and sometimes not in his pants either.
Hmmmm......my train of thought has derailed again...where was i.....ahh yes...Love.
Mr. Smarty Pants' experiences in love fall into several categories a) blind love- the kind of love where you must be blind to think it's love(though being drunk or horney or in a dark bar or any combination of the three are acceptable as "blind love") b) the "I can't believe it's not really love" lwhich is when it's not really love but you convince yourself it is because it will either threaten your masculinity, leave you homeless or both. (and it has half the calories of regular love)
and of course c) the "what the fuck was i thinking" love.(that one should be self explanatory). Now about 89.7% of Mr. Smarty Pants experiences were of the type "C" variety which has made me quite jaded but with the ability to get dressed quickly and quietly whilst jumping out a window or in a moving cab. Nonetheless even with all this emotional scarring this young woman i met awakened a hunger...a desire i had not felt in quite a while...now yes i have to admit i was actually hungry since i hadn't eaten since the night before...but the desire was there...awake...
Mr. Smarty Pants always tried to remain above Desire. Desire was a weak tickling in the belly. A feeling of oh too warm vulnerability. Not familiar terrain for Mr. Smarty Pants.
I must meditate upon this......

Vrooom..!!!......put....put....put....put....gasp...cough....sputter....sigh...silence.

I had killed my battery on friday....all with 45 miles on the bike. The dealer told me i was overusing the brake light in city traffic...which i was. But...there is always the possibility i got a bad battery...alas...all is well now. Mr. Smarty "Easy Rider" Pants is happy as long as his motor is running. (ahem)
On Saturday i met a friend i had made on the net. We have emailed each other for several weeks and this past Saturday turned out to be the day our physical paths would cross. I rode into town and she drove. We met on 50th. and 9th. Why 50th. and 9th. you ask..?? Well...why not..? In any case...Smarty Pants has for quite a while tried to resign himself to a life a solitude due to very poor social experiences that can make Sartre and Dostoevsky look like Abbott and Costello...and a particular "circumstance" which has great bearing on everything it seems.. So...intrigued by intelligent conversation and the fact that we maintained contact over a span of time which i considered unusual for people who haven't met.....we both decided to meet. We met at a street fair in Times Square. Turns out not only was she intelligent, intrigueing, and engaging...she was beautiful as well. And i enjoyed her company for the time that i had it. I have of late tried not to interact too closely with people as it's often been a source of pain and suffering...and if i want that i'll pay for it via credit card or call my Ex... But in this instance my friend made me wake up to something i missed but was denying myself because of fear. Fear of love and loss. Historically the two have come hand in hand for me....no actually the two are siamese twins attached at the cranium sharing one brain...yeah...that's more like it. So...needless to say...Mr. Smarty Pants has had his body chemistry thrown off.....order has been disrupted....my little world has been rocked just a bit.....and that's a big deal to a wanna be Vulcan. Fortunately i work tomorrow...bread and circuses for me....yay...

The weekend has been interesting. And i promise to make up for the missing parts.