Now that everything is broken, who stole my fucking glue?


I know, I know. It’s been forever. Things in my world seem to stand absolutely fucking still or whirl around like a tornado on meth. I have started year 2. I’ve actually made it through a bunch of seconds. Good for me. I still don’t own my house. I’m still stranded in Dipshitville, Indiana. By a dead guy.

So the big things. I am still scurrying around trying to make the shop make money. The next month is full of website revamps, new merchandise, training Wee Geek to be an employee, and madly looking for conventions that get what I do.

Other big things. I fired my piece of shit lawyer who was some evil mix of incompetence, stupidity, and just plain laziness. The new lawyer tried to tell me that it was that he was not intrinsically motivated to complete things that require executive functioning skills. I do believe that’s lawyer speak for fucking lazy. So the new lawyer promises I will own my house in 90 days. I just have to trust him to do some negotiating and pay everything off. The old lawyer would shrug his shoulders and tell me to let the bank foreclose. Fuck that, I need somewhere to live, jackass! I do not know how this will actually pan out because my experience with lawyers is not good. Long time readers know that I can speak fairly expertly on this topic.

Wee Geek is having to make some decidedly huge changes in his life. I am looking forward to this. However, the last month has reared a heads up of ugly truths that we will have to deal with. I realised that life with the Fixitguy has made me somewhat complacently trustful of people which has done nothing but cost me money. So trust issues that I had forgotten have popped up once more. Also, Wee Geek has had to face some of his own demons. A brief stint in hospital has put him on track with some good meds that seem to be helping with the depression and closing off the huge black hole that threatens to eat his soul for a bite size snack. It has also put some intervention in his path. So we have him set up for some counseling that we hope will get him through this hiccup. It has also forced him to think very pointedly about what he wants to be when he grows up besides Mom’s Indentured Servant, which truthfully is his life for a little while, but one that I hope he can drag himself out of sooner rather than later. He had a job shadow through his vocational rehabilitation services that seems to actually be the one. I have always wanted him to do something with his art and this may be his shot. He shadowed a tattoo artist the other day and really felt like this would fit him. I think it will too. Plus it has gotten him drawing again. WIN! Insert happy dance here.

I discovered that every month has indeed got a 24th. I kinna skated by it in December because I went to visit the maternal unit for a week over Christmas and was super busy. Long time readers will be interested to know that I visited my brother over this time who has made a decidedly concerted and concentrated effort to be in my life since the Fixitguy left me alone on this earthly plane. We are more alike than different on some things and worlds apart on others. But I feel like he is accepting of me for the general wacky chick I am and that is a good thing. He needed a little diversity in his life. Lol.

I feel life gliding by. I fill my evenings with crafts and with Wee Geek moving back home somewhat permanently for the time being, the craft supply hoard must get itself under control somehow. What that actually means is that life without the Fixitguy, although occasionally floundery, is starting to merge into some new pattern that perhaps he was training me for over all these years. I realised today that February 5th would have been our 15th wedding anniversary. Sigh.

There feels as if there have been many things that have happened. My UFOconspiracyfriend was hit by a car in downtown Dipshitville. Broke his arm in several places, but he is on the mend after a surgery. He is also bored our of his brain. Poor guy. I have not been a good friend with all of Wee Geek’s stuff, but we will soon be back on track with that as well. I have lots of crochet projects. I have orders for pink kitty cat hats and shark slippers which should keep me busy for a few weeks! So slowly things are happening with the shop.

So dear readers, watch out when crossing the road in Dipshitville, watch for updates to the shop, and cross your fingers for Wee Geek.

The Other Side of the Worst Year EVER….and other tales of survival


I know that I have been terribly negligent of you this year, dear reader. I’m sure that you understand. It hasn’t been an easy year. I wouldn’t even describe this last year as awful, because in reality there have been moments that were much worse than that.  There have been days where I cried with broken-hearted sobs that would rival the depth of the Grand Canyon. My sorrow has been indescribable. I have tried to find the words, but they are lacking.

I am sitting on the eve of the one year anniversary of my beautiful mother-in-law’s death. I don’t know how things would have changed if I had known that moment was only the gateway that would change my life irreparably and forever. On that night when about this time in the evening I sent my husband and my father-in-law to have a lie down because upon my arrival at the in-law’s house, I knew it was the end, I had no crystal ball to tell me that it was only the beginning of the end. Of a lot of things. There was no way to know that on that night, though. Instead I sat gently beside this woman that had given birth to the man I loved with all my heart. I read to her. I read to myself. I whispered with her. I told her it was okay for her to go whenever she felt it was time. I listened as her breathing became shallow and almost non-existent. Many times I held my own breath, waiting to see if she was done. I gave her drops of morphine upon request because there was no other comfort that anyone could offer her. I was sure she’d made whatever amends she felt necessary. I cried for all of the indignities that this wonderful woman had felt that she had put us all through. I didn’t feel that way at all. I felt as if it was the very least I could do for this woman who had given me her eldest son and the chance at a happy life.

In the last year, life has changed so much. I had no way of knowing that this simple natural event would change everyone’s life so fundamentally. None of us did. It seems like an innocent moment. We buried her in a beautiful British ceremony that was exactly what she wanted and what she had planned. So many people came to say goodbye to her. She had touched everyone she ever met with her gentle kindness. Those of us who were lucky enough to be close to her had no idea how truly blessed we were to have her hands on us every day. No one has ever had an unkind word to say about her. This is how one woman made an indelible mark on this sad and sorry world. She truly left it a better place than she found it.

In the last year, little things have popped up in our efforts to put our lives back together. Sometimes it is a photo. Sometimes it is a little thing that was left behind. Untouched in these last 12 months. With my mother-in- law it has been photos and these amazing letters that we keep finding. She wrote these amazing Christmas letters to people over the years. In the words of my father-in-law “Today is the one year anniversary of Caroline Hart Krumel’s passing. In the 54 years that she spent away from England, she must have written hundreds of letters and notes to family and friends. She so enjoyed that. She wrote with a simple, perfect eloquence I admired. There was a quiet optimism you could sense. Her Christmas letter of 2009 was is a wonderful example of her writing. Take a second to read if you will. There was no complaining in her writing. Reading this letter brings Carol back to life, for this day.”

Follows is the letter of that year: “Dear Family and Friends, We wish you peace and prosperity and hope you have had less worries and more happiness this year than you had last year. I feel more like an old person than in previous years. I take naps…in fact I fall asleep everywhere I go. In the car, int the bathtub, you name it. I stare into space more and it takes me until lunch to find my way to work. Roger and I are still making awnings and renting tents (marquees) but right now we wish we were walking on the beaches of North Carolina and Florida. This year of 2009 has been very unusual. Family came to visit. Actually it is the first time in 46 years that family has ever came to visit. My cousin Michael and wife Pauline appeared bearing an artfully restored family heirloom in the form of an antique mirror. Carefully packed in a wooden box and transported from 3,999 miles away…amazing! Roger found a brother he didn’t know existed. Carter McNamara an extraordinary man tall, handsome, and funny and he came to visit with his beautiful wife Teri from Minnesota. This visit was a time of sharing and catching up on the lost years and preparations for a reunion in 2010 of family they have yet to meet in North Dakota. My brother Richard made his way to England to meet his son Alex. A visit that was long overdue, thirty-five years in fact. I have heard that everything went well. For those of you who didn’t hear from me this year, I apologize. I will try and do better next year. No particular tragedies occurred this year, they all occurred the year before. My granddaughters, Cassie and Chelsea are actually making money and supporting themselves much to the delight of their father who thought their university days would never end before he retired. Daughter Judy at age 46 is still looking for a break into the acting world but is undiscovered and disappointed as we speak. When advised by her parents to seek a part in local theatre productions as a beginning, we are told they don’t pay. Meanwhile she is house and pet sitting around the country. My only grandson, Jeremy, who we see very little of when asked why he doesn’t visit, says he has too much homework and could we send him petrol money. A girlfriend, Bree, is prominent in his life. Our house in Warren, Indiana, for sale now for 2 1/2 years finally sold to the neighbors when an aunt and uncle gave them the money. Some things are looking up. Business is down 65% but Roger still goes to work every day. When I arrive at noon, I find him on the phone looking for buyers or on the computer and the work is waiting for me. My son Andrew has been researching his Boller ancestry and finding many skeletons in the closet. As yet, he hasn’t touched on the Harts, Robertsons and Aylings. My son Mark at age 44 has yet to find his way to a job. My daughter-in-law, Katey Jayne has two jobs now. She is persecuted endlessly by her ex-husband who imagines she owes him money. She has spent more time in court this year than church. I am thankful for many things, a warm house, sunny days, shade, great bird watching in the garden and a husband I can laugh with who takes me to all my favourite movies. We hope your lives are as good.”

And that, dear readers, is that beautiful understated eloquence that only the British culture can instill in one. I hope that you enjoyed this. My heart is still broken, but somehow lighter. We are on the edge of the first year. This bizarre and worst year of my life. Those of you who know me, know that is no small feat. I have had a very strange life. Keep posted, dear readers as I work my way through the six weeks. We will see what the end of the time brings.

Welcome to my rock star life!


Welcome to my rock star life, fans, friends, enemies, and those of you on the fence with indecision (frenemies)! First of all, I prolly need to mention that the “Dark Souls” book is now out in print and available through the Post Mortem Press website and Amazon. Of course if you want a signed copy and you haven’t reserved one yet, message me with payment instructions or an address to send your already purchased one to for the official signing.
So…it’s making me feel like a rock star that no one’s heard of. I got my author copy last Saturday and let me tell you how exciting and surreal and weird it was. I had just gotten back from seeing my Diamond Boobies in Fort Wayne. I was on the phone with my mom and I reached into the mailbox. When I pulled that envelope out of the mailbox, I squealed and almost dropped it. It was truly awesome to see “Push Button, Get Bacon” on every left hand page of my story and KT Jayne on every right hand side. It felt very surreal. Awesome and terrifying and REAL!
The cover is beautiful. Very scary and fitting. All of the stories are great. Some are weirder than others, some are grosser than others. Some are trying to reinvent the genre. But all of them are very interesting, I promise.
Another bit of news, my son and I went to court this morning. My ex had screwed up his financial aid so bad I thought we’d never get it straightened out in time. I think his evil plan was to keep Kale out of school so he could file to emancipate him. But once again, I stepped in to fix the mess that my ex created. The good news in all this is that I no longer am paying my ex half my paycheck in child support. This is the best part of it all. Of course, it would have been better to see the look on my ex’s face when he saw my son with me, but there was some satisfaction to be gleaned from his lawyer’s face and the fact that she was very upset when my lawyer handed her my son’s schedule and bill for school.
Overall, I’m feeling like a rock star. People are interested in the book and it seems I pick up a new fan everyday. I’ve sold most of my first printing and looking forward to ordering a second. It’s been weird, wonderful, and immensely excited. Stay posted!

Welcome to my surreal autistic life


The last three weeks of my life has been a sort of disconcerting fairy tale. It feels as if I put in some sort of order for dreams to come true and some demented little Santa’s elf decided to make it all happen at once.
Things with my son have been progressing wonderfully. The more time that we are together, the less time that we seem to have been apart. We are slowly getting his pieces back into place and making sure that he can continue to go to school. It looks as if he will probably have to take out a loan to pay for his first semester of this year himself, and then we will have to argue in court about how his dad is going to have to pay him back. The saddest part of all this is that while it was benefitting my ex to be getting money from me that was in no way helping my son (who apparently was paying most of his expenses himself) and that while Indiana was busy letting this numbskull judge stick it to me even though the income gap between us is in excess of $75,000 a year, they are actually entertaining the idea that my ex may be able to emancipate my son so that he won’t have to pay for any of his school.
It’s another abuse in the system that he has been able to take advantage of from the start. In what other universe would a man who has a long and fairly documented history of domestic violence be allowed to continue that abuse through the court. He has been allowed to claim to the judge that he was in fear of his life. I know, we’ve all seen the horror movie where the 150 pound autistic crazy woman murdered a 350+ pound man in pure vengeance. What? You haven’t seen that one? Well, I haven’t either.
He has been allowed to claim that I am crazy and that I caused my son to be mentally ill and think he’s autistic which we all know is one of the worst mental illnesses out there. Oh, wait. It’s a neurological diversity. Not a mental illness. Never mind that I am considered an expert in the field of autism in my area. It’s just crazy to think that I might actually know the signs and might actually have a little bit of expertise in knowing when a kid is on the spectrum (autie-dar completely ignored here). Never mind that I trained with some of the top experts in the state. I am so obviously crazy just because my ex-husband says so in court and therefore makes it law.
Now, the second part of my dreamlike life going terribly askew. I know, you are thinking that I have it all. Great marriage to Best Buy guy of my dreams, great kid…what else could possibly go right? Well, I am now published.
Scary I know. It’s a little publishing house out of Cincinnati that I met down at the Days of the Dead convention. But it’s a short story in an anthology called “Dead Souls”. It’s amazing. Out on Kindle already. We are anxiously awaiting the print release so we can actually hold it in our hands and know that it is true. I will blog more about it and it’s amazing growth later. Stay posted.

Waking up from Nightmares


Wow, this week has been a never ending roller coaster. The most bizarre thing happened Wednesday. My son, yes, dear reader, I said my son called me at work yesterday and left a message for me with a phone number to call him.
I absolutely felt as if someone had walked over my grave and I absolutely felt like my whole world was spiraling totally and completely out of control! I want to be happy and sad and angry and a whole bunch of other things all of the same time. My system feels like it’s working on overtime mode.
It was a good talk and we dealt with some yucky stuff, but it was absolutely amazing! I am reeling and whirling and alternately crying and wanting to jump up and down. I can’t even coherently put all of the thoughts together in one place.
So we are a few days into putting this relationship back together and it’s hard. Very hard.
I have a jillion questions and a jillion things I want to say. Some things I need to say, but can’t. Some things I need to know, but Kale doesn’t want to tell me.
I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I’m feeling angry about the situation and having him in there again brings up a lot of that anger. He isn’t really wanting me to be angry. He’s expecting me to not be angry and I am. I try not to be but it’s difficult. He acts like I have an equal amount of culpability here and I don’t. I was screwed and treated badly and denied my rights to be his parent. And somehow, he seems to think that I had some control over the situation and I didn’t. He doesn’t know what it’s like to walk into court and be called retarded because of my Asperger’s.
It’s hard to move things forward. I am so conflicted. I want to help him and take care of things, but I feel like I can’t jump in all out because I’m going to be hurt in this. I definitely have been through too much to have anymore crap on my plate.
It’s been up and down and all around. I don’t want to feel like he’s playing me against the middle. Some things have to be accomplished. I can’t help him if I’m giving his dad half my paycheck. I also don’t think it’s fair that his dad has made me out to be the bad guy. It’s definitely a bad feeling.
I also am upset that his dad has made him think that it’s not okay to have Asperger’s. I spent a long time making him okay with the way that he was. Now, I feel as if he isn’t quite so okay with it. I know that I needed that diagnosis to confirm that I wasn’t broken. Kale didn’t need it for that reason. He needed it to get him through school. He was confident enough in his own wonderfulness without it. But still it sort of feels as if he is spitting in my face. I know I have to get over that because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s happy with the way that he is.
It’s just that I spent a long time getting that diagnosis and had to fight with a lot of people and put up with just as many of them calling me crazy. So it feels like he thinks I’m crazy now, too. It also feels like I’m out here all by myself again. I know I’m not, but it feels like that.
So how do you put something back together with your child when you haven’t seen him in 4 years? How do you regulate all the crappy stuff inside of you so that it doesn’t come out as that? I don’t know either.
It definitely feels like there are places where nothing has changed and there are places where there are huge holes. There are places where it feels really great and there are places where it’s not so good.
I guess the impatience in me wants it all to be okay right NOW! It’s not that I want to go over all the old ground. I just feel like some things have to be said, done, dealt with. I hate leaving yucky stuff to be dealt with. I want it out of the way so that I can enjoy the good stuff.
Today I just feel confused. I suppose that’s normal. The Best Buy guy says it probably should feel confusing. I know I’m being a complete Asperger’s kid and having trouble reconciling all of my emotions and feelings. I know I’m just feeling overwhelmed because I haven’t dealt with any of these emotions and now I’m having to and that kind of sucks. I’m glad it’s for such a good reason, but it definitely makes me feel unsure.
So dear readers, how should I do this? What can I do? How do I move myself forward when I have so many questions and not answers? I don’t know either.

Sucked into the abyss of drama


In the last couple of years, I’ve gotten pretty good at eliminating drama from my life.  I’ve become fairly effective at identifying the drama causers and getting them to back slowly away from the autistic girl.

Then there was a little bug that visited me and told me that my father had finally gotten fed up with my step mother’s drug abuse.  The true story is some Jerry Springer show topic.  The reality is that it impacts everyone.  As an adult I understand that I can pick and choose who I have relationships with and this does include the people that in previous parts of my life that I thought I “had” to maintain relationships with.  I have learned that sometimes the people that think you have to maintain relationships with them no matter what do not understand this choice.

I have watched many incidents of enabling in my life and this particular set of parents are the masters.  Removing myself from their situation has been one of the healthiest things that I have ever done for myself.

Now, dear and devoted readers, my problem is multifaceted and I have no road maps for dealing with it.  I want to be supportive without being dragged into the drama.  I know that this may be impossible.  There is still a lot of anger inside of me about what my father did in relation to my son.  I’m not going to be able to just jump over the fence and say, “Okay, I forgive you for sending the message to everyone involved that you agreed that there was something so broken inside of me that you felt that you needed to side with my ex husband on the relationship that I have with my son.”  That is not going to happen.

But I feel without my father’s enabling behaviour toward my step mother, I might be able to start putting some of the angry and hurt feelings aside.  I know for a fact that without her involved, I can put it all aside in time.  I understand the addiction behaviour beyond all reasoning, but it does not really make anything better. When you spend your life watching excuses being made for bad behaviour, you tend to be a little cynical about anyone’s ability to change the situation, including your own.

I feel for the situation.  It is very difficult to break up a marriage, no matter how long you’ve been married.  And it only gets harder, the longer the marriage stays intact.  But when your own health is at jeopardy because of your situation, then that’s a problem.  I may not have been in very many healthy relationships in my lifetime, but I sure as hell know what a bad one looks like.

I guess in thinking about all of this, there are some things that I’ve thought about over and over.  Throughout all of the mess of the last almost 5 years, I have thought that I would regret not having relationships with some people in my life.  My son is primary.  The gap that his absence has left in my soul is immeasurable.  I will truly regret it if I do not at least start the process of  repairing things with my dad and something happens to him.

I seriously doubt my dad’s ability to fight dirty in this circumstance.  I know that unfortunately, my inability to understand how to fight dirty handicapped me far worse than my Asperger’s in my dealings with my ex.  Although, granted, my Asperger’s was probably what made this particularly difficult.  I doubt my dad’s strength in dealing with pure and unreined insanity.  There is no insanity that matches a drug addict in full force.

Probably none of us will ever know the true story.  I’m sure that there are parts of it, that I do not want to know.  I hope that my step mother gets help and that my dad stops enabling her and making excuses for her.  My dad is forever a “don’t make waves” kind of guy.  One of the biggest issues in our relationship has been his inability to accept that I’m just not a “maintain the status quo” sort of girl.  I’ve always been this way, I think.  I don’t look for ways to not be in the middle, but it sure looks like it’s awful far away.

It’s a difficult decision.  I don’t want to be sucked into all of the drama of this situation and I have no doubts that this is going to be bad.  And not, the kind of bad that makes you feel as if there is an inconvenience that you’d rather not be bothered with.  It’s going to be bad in the way that makes you think that the gates of hell have opened and showered it’s full force down on top of you.  When you have a family member living through this, how do you be supportive and not join the abyss?  I only know how to survive it.  I do not know how to help anyone else through it.  I do not even know how to survive it intact.  I certainly didn’t manage to do that at all.

Lately, I’ve been having thoughts that my dad is the bridge to my son.  I just don’t know how to get to that bridge.  I am so at a loss about what to do.  The Best Buy guy says stay the hell away from it.  And instinctively that’s what I want to do. It’s hard.

I guess all I can do is pray.  Now where’s the instruction manual for that?

As I think about all of the dynamics of the relationship that I have with my dad, I wish I could pick the thing that makes me the angriest.  But I think mostly, I feel sadness because my dad has truly missed out on what makes me a great person, by not understanding that I’m not that status quo in the middle girl.  Or maybe he understands it, but can’t get past it.

I wish that once in my life, my dad would have been proud of me because I fight for what I think is right and I say what’s on my mind.  Those aren’t bad qualities.  Sometimes it’s to my detriment that I say what’s on my mind, but I never regret that I did it.  Especially if I thought I was being wronged in the middle of all of it.

I don’t know what will become in this situation.  I guess I will wait and see.  It may be good or bad or it may just be in the middle which is what my dad will fight to maintain.

Pink Floyd: The Original Punks


I know.  Who would’ve thunk it?  Me, of course!

We had the pleasure of going to see Roger Waters on his Wall tour this past weekend in Chicago.  Awesome does not even begin to describe the entire thing.

For a generation of us X’ers, this album helped to define us.  For those of you not familiar with the Wall, let me introduce you to the messed up mind of Roger Waters.  This is an album of lost hope, coping with excess, and trying to find your place in a world that seems to be completely careening out of control. 

The undertones are endless.  It asks all of the important questions that we should all be asking of ourselves and our world.  Should we blindly follow a government or leader? Should the powers that be dictate to us what we wear, what we eat, what we do, what we think?  Why is excess so excessive?  How do you move on?  What is the best way to protect yourself and still stay sane?

These are all important questions that we should examine.  Roger is and always will be a wonderful commentator on social well-being.  The messages embedded in the Wall are timeless and it seems as if they have never been more relevant than they are today.

People of my generation have seen the world change in a much more massive amount in a much shorter period of time than other generations.  If you had told me when I was in high school that I would be carrying a phone around with me in my pocket all the time, using a bank card to pay for everything in my life, or using a computer every single day to accomplish everything in my life, I would have laughed at you and called you crazy.  It’s absolutely surreal that we live in this futuristic, practically Star Trek universe. 

We could only walk away from this world with the  moniker “I survived”.  The changes that I have seen are absolutely unbelievable.  When interacting with the Wall, the first question that we really ask ourselves is: How do you protect yourself and still let people in?  this is the never ending question of people on the spectrum sometimes.  It’s very difficult for us to let people in to begin with and even more difficult for us to guess who can be trusted and who cannot.

I know, you want to know why Pink Floyd were the original punks.  Let’s think about the message that is obvious.  The Wall.  The big picture idea is that the Wall is similar in message to the Berlin Wall.  The Berlin Wall only stood for a little under 30 years, and yet the things it represented were so much more.  The things it repressed were even more astounding.  Think of the idea of the government dictating every little thing that you do and even telling you how you can think.  Think of being barricaded in to supposedly keep the evil out, but suspecting that the evil you are keeping out is actually on your side of the wall.  Think of the alienation that this mentality causes. 

Is the Wall a protest.  I think so, most definitely.  It protests every form of government that we encounter in our lives.  It begins with our parents and the doctrines we were raised by.  Then we are moved into schools where teachers and administrators tell us how to dress, how to eat, how to learn, and how to think.  They dictate what we write and how we do it.  Then we move in with a spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend, etc. and start having to live by someone else’s rules and learning to behave in ways that are socially appropriate for them. Then you have a job inwhich everything is again dictated to you while sitting in a little cube plugged into a little machine.

Wow, that is some pretty big picture stuff that is very scary!  All of these issues are tackled in the Wall.  Along with coping with those issues.  You can’t help but wonder, does Pink feel as if everything in his life is a prison?  By the time he breaks out from under the Wall, you are villified and excited.  You feel as free as he does.  Pink addresses all of our feelings.  In the worst possible way, we realise that we are all “prisoners of our device”.  We are empathetic with Pink, though.  He is not solely responsible for life turning out the way it does.  Other people are just as much to blame for his wall building as he is.  However, Pink is “hanging on in quiet desperation” because that “is the English way”.  He shoulders the entire blame and almost kills himself in excess trying to make it all disappear.

Pink builds the wall because it is what he is taught to do and told to do.  He believes that this is how one protects himself from being hurt.  He is taught this by his mother, who obviously was not the spokeswoman for happily ever after.  He becomes a rockstar to get away.  Although, in the movie there are only allusions to Pink’s rockstar status.  Such as the girl he takes back to his hotel room and she asks “are all of these your guitars?”  To Pink, though, being a rockstar is equivalent to some fascist dictatorial leader.  He feels that he has the ability to tell his fans what to do.  And seemingly, he does.  Pink goes to his own show not as himself, but as a “surrogate band”.  He proceeds to point out the faults of his audience and starts to pit them against each other based on arbitrary traits.

Still, we find that Pink is the same scared little boy trying to wrestle with big picture issues that he is in no way equipped to handle.  When he is put on trial for “the way you made them suffer, your exquisite wife and mother”, we realise that Pink is not now and probably never has been in control of his own destiny.  He makes experimental forays into the world without a wall, but becomes frightened and retreats.  Better the devil you know, so to speak.  His entire life is just a reaction to everything around him without the attempts at interaction that we need as human beings in general.

This is the part where I rant and rave about the stupendousnous of the show and how wonderful it was.  We could never see another concert and feel as if we had gotten our money’s worth from it!  It was a show and a spectacle.  Roger himself tooled around the arena dressed like a bum complete with shopping cart and fairly inflammotory sign.  There were giant puppets. There was, of course, a giant pig with every icon of opulence and excess that you can think of.  Yes, I think that if I never saw another concert, I am grateful that this was the last one I saw!

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