Life and Death; and Klezmer

This is the kind of band that would have been playing at my maternal grand-parents wedding. Probably.  I wasn’t there.

In the 1890’s, one didn’t invite ones’ grand-children to ones’ wedding.  Nowadays, you could invite anyone.  Anything goes.  Nowadays.

Those are parenthetical statements.   Not related to anything meaningful; just “filler”.  Its just my writing “style”.  My shrink makes all her money listening to this “style”.  I’m so glad I don’t have to listen to this shit day after day like I used to.  Not any more.

The only thing that my therapist hates…   …   ….

[and she hates no one.    She “accepts” everyone.  Some day, I should test her to see what the limits of her tolerance are.  I know she “accepts” all my deviant excesses.  I’ve tried and tried, but she just smiles, and says I’m okay.

Okay??  Okay????  After all these years of thinking myself weird?  Eccentric?  And all she can say is, “You’re okay”?  What the H— am I paying her for?  I could get that god-damned $0.01 book from to tell me that!!

And that’s another thing.  You can get the book itself for $0.01, but its $3.25 for the shipping!!!  That really pisses me off!!

And that’s another thing.  They’re still selling that silly book, “I’m Okay, You’re Okay“.  Thirty years!  I’m okay, you’re okay.  I’m okay, you’re okay.  I’m okay, you’re okay.  Thirty years!!!  Wouldn’t you think there’d be, like, a Second Edition.  A Foreword.   Something.  SOMETHING!!!!

Christ in heaven, it makes me so fucking mad!!!]

Where was I??  Oh!!  Klezmer.  Give me a sec.  I’ll be right back!!

This is not the way I wanted to start the new year.  Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.



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