Betty Boop On Memorex

Am I real or am I Memorex?

After several days of franicntic bloggibng,  I ‘lost’ two pages of info.  I  wrote in the WP Forums, ‘my music goes round and round, and it comes out….nowhere‘.  I don’t know if the tech guy got the joke, but he fixed the problem.

Now i’m back . Complaining again about my frustrations with aphasia and my flirtations with hypo-mania.  Am i manic?  I’m certainly not depressed!  Am i real, or am I Memorex?

That song has stuck in my mind all morning!

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Are you too young to remember  Betty Boop, my pre-teen stroke queen?

Today i was inordinately disabled.  Today I was disabled with self-blame.  With -self-loathing.  What’s wrong with me?   Is it the aphasia? Is it the hypo-mania?  Why can’t I even type?  I used to be able to type, fer-chrise-sake!  I can read like I used to.  What’s wrong with me!?

Aphasia/hypo-mania?   Hypo-mania/aphasia?  I should know better.  Its both, you ninny!

There’s a ‘short-hand answer’ Gestalt shrinks give. Called “integrating polarities”.  We’re  human.  Full of polarities.  I’m aphasic and hypo-manic.  “My sister and my daughter”, once again.

What that implies for me is that its time to move on.  Stop asking unanswerable questions.  When i started blogging, I was overwhelmed by all the mental noise I was creating.  I hadn’t been typing at all for almost a decade.  I hadn’t been  exercising my mind in any form expect for the unconscious healing, the “neoroplasticity” of own my brain.

We all cope with little experiences that don’t make sense, but they’re stuck in our memories.  In computer science the techs tell you about de-fragmentation of your hard drive.  Putting back all the old pieces in the right place. Its like that.

This train of thought takes me nowhere!  Maybe I should be  trying to find what came first.  Shouldn’t this be the way the mind works:  ‘Why’ comes before ‘how’.  Doesn’t it?

Okay.  Maybe this way.  Why is my mind so jumbled?.  My brain was stroked after my brain surgery.  What came first?   My bipolar ‘nature’ was with me long before my stroke.  So what?  Back to unanswerable questions.

in this moment of clarity, i realize once more that it is time to get on with it.   Will it be just enough for me to release tension through writing?  Shouldn’t there be a ‘product”, an accomplishment?   Shouldn’t there be something more?  There are so many other things to be done!

This gets me nowhere

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Later, after a nap, I’m looking for references to “It Comes Out Here”, and I found a whole trove of little known [at least little known to me] music that I  love. Be-Bop.

Do you know about the “Cherry Poppin’ Daddies“?  The “Puppini Sisters”?  I guess the music has survived rock-n-roll.

I’ve been listening to this music on You Tube.  All day long.  It calms me.  I’m dancing on my wheelchair.  I can stand, but I can’t walk but a few steps.  Who cares!  I can dance sitting up!

My mother hated Louis Prima.  He was my favorite!  There is a clip from “Swing Cats Jamboree” dramatizing his trip to New York City from Hollywood.  Even then, his outrageousness was legendary.

Mom liked Lauritz Melchior, an opera-chic.  A far cry from a King Louie.  In a cruel twist of fate, my dad’s name was also Louis.

But that’s another story.   For another night.