My apologies for not posting this weekend, folks. I have suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune recently and was left entirely too demoralized by the cruel combinations life sometimes has in store for mortal man to be able to post anything worthwhile.
Firstly....my back flared up on me with a vengeance. The sciatica did not reappear, Thank God, but I was totally immobilized by the pain in my left-middle back and spent much of the weekend in lecto recumbit.
Normally, there are worse things than being stuck on a livingroom couch. This was my attitude toward my situation. At first. After a few hours of lying there reading, I started to get a nasty head and neck ache from lying with the back of my head on that awful armrest. A pillow only intensified the acute angle at which my head was forced to stick out from my shoulders. So I gingerley slid over onto my side but I can not read like that so I had to abandon the printed word for other entertainments. Namely the flickering warm glow of the idiot box.
I enjoyed television very much for the first few hours....Okay, all night. There were also other pleasant diversions such as the deafening and incessant caterwauling of my niece who adamantly insists on speaking 200 decibels above that of my old Drill Sergeant. There was also my own son who has decided lately that he is starving every hour and a half, I naturally am the only adult in the house during these growth-spurt induced feeding frenzies so I get to haul my aching self out to the kitchen and perform such minor works of culinary wonderment as would satisfy such a young boy.
On top of it all, I had foolishly decided Friday night that quitting smoking would be the wisest move in my immediate future. Not that quitting smopking is foolish ipso facto, just that the timing could have been better. Needless to say I was quite the crank this weekend...until I broke down and asked my Frau to go and buy a deck of Luckies for her poor sweety.
For all of the aching and book deprivation and all of the other things that prevented me from relaxing this weekend, Hell did not truly come to RedFalcon's nest until 2100 hrs EST Sunday.
I had fallen asleep sometime earlier while my son was playing with racecars on the floor. The SCIFI channel was on and a movie was on that I cannot remember except that it was monumental in it's mediocrity. When I had awakened some time later, my son was asleep on the other couch and a new movie was starting on SCIFI. It was called Raptor Island and it was BAD. Colossally bad. I swear Nostradamus mentioned something about this movie playing during the end times.
I groped about me furiously for the remote. None could be found (it was later found in the bathroom. My son strikes again!). I attempted to right myself so I could go and change the television manually like our forefathers did. No soap....I was too stiff and sore. I couldn't consider waking Ronnie up or I would never get him back to sleep and moving him to his bedroom without waking him was a headache I was saving especially for Mommy when she got home from work....MuHuhuwahahahahahaha.
So there I was. Me and that atrocious movie. Like the victim of a senseless crime, my brain tried desperately to deny the reality of my situation. I tried vainly to slip into madness just so I would be blissfully unaware of how hideous Raptor Island was. Sanity refused to loosen it's tenuous grasp, however, and I was denied sanctuary in the cool refreshing dark waters of dementia.
All I could do was accept the inevitable. I curled up in the fetal position so as to better protect my Id from the merciless onslaught of witnessing Lorenzo Lamas portray some psychopathic writer's idea of a Navy SEAL. I would have probably sucked my thumb as well, but I was already pinching my nose in the P.U. fashion and would surely have suffocated which, while escape from my plight, was a bit too permanent a solution for a two hour SCIFI original movie. Even an atrocity of this magnitude.
If I could only convince the State Department to sit down and watch a few minutes of this film, I'm sure we could try the producer and director for crimes against humanity.
Anyway, I am feeling a bit better and should be back to form in no time. This weekend...especially Sunday night is seared, seared into my memory. I can not forget about it no matter how I try. Moments of this weekend will haunt me til the day I die. No, I can not forget but perhaps, in time, I will learn to make friends with the ghosts and will someday be able to heal the scars that that movie made. Maybe someday I will be a productive, sentient human being again and will be able, maybe, to move on with my life despite the crippling effects of having been forced to watch that movie.