February 25, 2011. New York, Los Angeles oh how I've yearned for you. Detroit, Chicago, Chattanooga, Baton Rouge

I rarely leave New York, yet recently I've been all over this country. I've met all sorts of different people, The two things that we all have in common is 1) we have an incurable Neurological Disease or we know someone who does; and 2) we've all bonded in some way.

There are those who write poetry. I can write parodies of songs and can rhyme anything with Nantucket, but traditional poetry no.

There are those who are frustrated or scared. I'm a little frustrated, not particularly scared.

There are those who look towards religion. I respect their beliefs, but it's not for me.

There are those who are lonely. At times that's me regardless of my 186 facebook friends. (if my Mom is reading this, I bet that she is glad that she doesn't have to cater any more birthday parties).

There are the cheerleaders. (Shake it to the right! Shake it to the Left! Give me a P....)

Then there's me, One of the Scriveners of the group. We deal with it by writing our every thought.

How did such a group find each other? I don’t know, but just as Dorothy felt she always knew the Scarecrow, I feel like I’ve always known these people.

The internet is a dangerous place, but sometimes it can be very rewarding.

January 1, 2011. A New Beginning

No matter how many pieces I write, no matter how much my leg shakes, no matter how stiff I look, I still don't think of myself as at all impaired.

I can't. It's not something that I'm willing to accept or give into.

I resolve for 2011. 1) Not to get a handicapped parking sticker; 2) Not to go on disability; 3) Not to slow down at work, in fact, I resolve to bring the business back to what it was pre-Parkinson's; 4) Not to make excuses why I'm not exercising.

There are certain things that can't be done. The Scarecrow, in the Wizard of Oz will never understand Geometry. (The Scarecrow says, "The sum of the square roots of any two sides of an iscoceles triangle, is equal to the square root of the remaining side." Why is he wrong?) "You can't light a match on a bar of soap." (Stan Laurel) An nobody can explain the virtues of "The English Patient" to me.

This being said, there is no reason to give in to PD. In a year when I revisit this, I will be in a better condition than I am today.

Happy New Year.

December 11, 2010. If I were King of the Forest

If I were King of the Forest, Not queen, not duke, not prince.
My regal robes of the forest, would be satin, not cotton, not chintz.

The feeling of mortality carries with it a feeling of trepidation. One of the bonuses of being large, is that trouble generally avoids you.

As a teenager, my friends and I were mugged in Flushing Meadow Park. The muggers avoided me. even as recent as about 6 years ago, I told some kids on Queens Boulevard to shut up, when I heard them making anti-Semitic comments. They looked at me and shut up. I never got into a fight. I never had to.

I'd command each thing, be it fish or fowl.
With a woof and a woof and a royal growl - woof.

Today when I walk, I often shuffle my feet. I'm often stooped over. I'm leery of every shadow. I look at the shoes of kids on the street. Predators always wear sneakers.

As I'd click my heel, all the trees would kneel.
And the mountains bow and the bulls kowtow.
And the sparrow would take wing - If I - If I - were King!

Part of a man's ego is the illusion that he's invulnerable. That illusion is gone. It's time for reality.

Each rabbit would show respect to me.
The chipmunks genuflect to me.
Though my tail would lash, I would show compash
For every underling!
If I - If I - were King!Just King!

So today, I'm not invulnerable. My weapon of choice is pen. You know what they say, "The pen is mightier than the illusion of the sword."