My words and pictures define my life, as it fades away, and I have so little left.

What a trip it is to feel life fading! Yea, there's always the get yourself back together physically and stop drinking mode. But I've been there, done that, and failed. A few times...

Now I think about the very few people left who care about me, and wow, I've really dropped to a new low. They are my son Riley and family, my grand-daughter Shelby, and my neighbor Daniel.

Beyond that, I have my sisters family back West that I never see anymore. She brought me into Idaho, and I bailed eventually to Tennessee.

To chase a love, a possible new family, and have it dissolve around me without really understanding why.

All I do now is stay alive and write!

My chest hurts, I don't know if it's my lungs or my heart. I walk around my small house wondering if this is the day I drop dead. A hell of a way to live...

I'm absolutely done with Post notifications, shoving my shit into peoples text feeds. I'm just going to write until I can't.

I feel really broken. I actually would end it if I wasn't so morally opposed to that.

My friend and neighbor Daniel showed off his new clothes before heading off to his sons wedding this afternoon. I think he looks great! My advice as I hugged him, and told him I loved him, was to wrap Jen onto his arm for the whole event, be cool and be proud.

btw: he's the top heating and air guy for the Lawrenceburg, TN school system. He also maintains our ice houses, wires corn silos and local businesses lighting. Those hands are genius and I really am a fan of his mechanical ability.

My son Riley is one of the top Auto Body technicians in the country, and I have to put him right there with Daniel.

Hmmm, it would be so cool if they hooked up, but Riley is rocking Seattle, and Daniel is ruling southern Tennessee.

I've been playing Poker with Daniel all morning, watching a bunch of vehicles for the second day in a row, parking across the street for an estate sale out on the highway.

Daniel's oldest son is getting married today at 1700, and he just left with his wife to buy clothes for the event. Here's what I've learned:

His ex-wife and ex-mother-in-law will be there.

His son has been seeing this woman for ten years, and Daniel has never met her parents, even though they're good friends with the ex.

His younger son called and advised him to not show up drunk. I've been encouraging him in the opposite direction.

His good friend and neighbor me was not invited, thank god, even though I know the boys and the bride to be. I haven't trimmed my head since before Christmas, I look like a wild man, no decent clothes to wear, and I'm staggering and grunting, as opposed to walking proud. And my pretty fingernails are still rocking!

Hah! Daniel could have drug me along as his old hippy avant garde videographer, with my DJI Pocket 2 camera, and I'd put the whole wonderful event up on YouTube.

Probably best not...

Update: Daniel went up to town and spent $350 on clothes. Then he came back and I kicked his butt in poker. We just had on epic hand where I grabbed a bunch of his red chips, beating his straight with four kings.

Now he's heading back to his house next door, to shave and shower, put on the new clothes, meet up with his wife there, and then go to his son's wedding. And, yes he is, thank you.

Btw: reds are twenty, greens are tens, and whites are one.

I'm writing this in case I don't make it. I've been having chest pains pretty consistently lately, and there is a chance I might just drop dead soon.

My Will is on the small table next to the icebox. I think having a garage sale would be a good way to clean this place out of anything left.

The Will says bury me, but with whatever money I got left, cremation is fine.

Thanks for reading my blog.

I am really beginning to accept reality as I approach 78. This little house in Lawrenceburg, TN is where my crazy life has landed, and this is where I will continue to live, until I die.

Now the focus becomes survival, not adventure. Trips are off the table, I need to figure out how to use every service available, to stay alive.

I haven't used any local or federal services yet. I have a moral code that say's, if I can pay for it, do it, until the day I can't. And I am approaching that point, this year.

Hmmm, as I write this, I'm smiling. If I had landed with a wife of sixty years, a great pension and a huge family, I would not have ended up loving who I do.

I have no regrets!

It's been a long morning stuck down on my deadend street, while my mechanic Thomas is working on my truck. He said yesterday it would be ready today around 1300, and he called at 1315. Turns out his helper didn't show today so he devoted his very full shop, to my truck.

I've made some friends here, Thomas is the brother of another buddy, Tim, who works for my landlord and that I drove cars down from Nashville for. Black guys, grew up working on vehicles as kids, and in my opinion, the best in town!

Tim's worked on my truck a couple of times, getting a ride from the car dealership where he's the head mechanic, to here after work, then takes it to his place to do the job.

I told Thomas to click the Home button on my GPS and it brought him right here. I jumped in my passenger seat, for the first time ever, and as we headed back to his shop, he told me the deal.

He tore the engine down, said the head was smooth, and the cylinder walls looked great. He said the engine has a lot of miles left on her. Considering she's at 250K, that's great news! He's also recommending four new spark plug wires, ordering now.

As Thomas was showing me the engine, back at his shop, I slid twenty fifty dollar bills into his hand. Straight out of my bottoming out stash, but absolutely necessary.

My beloved truck Jill, is back!

I honestly consider myself a good man. As I look back on the 77 years I've been around, I made a ton of mistakes, but deliberately hurting anyone, or committing an obvious crime, was never my makeup.

I broke the law on occasion. Hell, I did many recreational drugs, so did half this country. I stole a pen from the small store on the side of a mountain outside of Reno when I was seven, and was banned from the place for a year.

Hell, I was busted for public intoxication right here a few years ago! Case was dismissed. I've never had a DUI and I've never assaulted anyone, other than in self defence.

Somehow, I've made it this far, I have nothing to hide, I am who I am, I don't share everything, but all you have to do is ask.

I drove my truck up to Thomas's shop this morning. He wasn't there yet so I left it in his yard with the key, and walked down to the Square for breakfast.

My watch beeped at me for the first time in a while, giving me a thumbs up for the walk home after breakfast. Now I keep glancing towards my carport and freaking out when I don't see my sweet old truck.

If I lose her, I'm screwed. I can't afford another vehicle, and walking around town with Parkinsons legs just won't work. So I'm thinking positive, waiting on a good phone call.

I like our local Walgreens here in Lawrenceburg, TN. They have been my pharmacy for more than five years, their prices are fair, and someone always greets you as you walk in.

Today, 1/31/24, I timed my visit to the exact arrival of my new Parkinson's drug, at 1245, according to their website. I want to start these new meds quickly.

The young lady that greeted me told me it wasn't ready yet. In other words it had arrived in a container box from somewhere, along with a whole bunch of others, and hadn't been processed.

The initial implication was, come back tomorrow. But this is where her customer service shown through.

She dug through that box of new arrivals, on the floor across the counter in front of me, and found it.

This fine young Walgreens employee had a three letter name. Very sweet, loved my fingernails. She could have easily said come back tomorrow but allowed me to start a new Parkinson's drug today.

My truck Jill is thirty six years old. I don't know the formula, but I know one vehicle year is longer than a human year. Say it's just two, Jill would be 72, three she would be 108.

I continue to maintain her as she ages, like I do myself. Buying another vehicle is completely off the table and I need to get around. I need to be able to get to the stores here!

Although, if she dies, I could just say screw it, go on food stamps and use the local ride share services offered by the Senior Center to get to Krogers. I could even have everything delivered.