Thomas Wictor

Archive for the ‘Dad’ Category

It was defenestration

December 6, 2013, was an extremely unpleasant day. I’ll be glad to see the end of 2013. Annus horriblus. Tim and I have been saying for ages, “The next year cannot possibly be worse than this one was,” and then it would be. Well, 2014 cannot possibly be worse than 2013 because this year was…

 

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Paying the piper

Someone sent me a link to an interview with the bassist Lemmy Kilmister of the band Motörhead. He’s in terrible shape from all the drugs, drinking, and smoking. If you don’t know anything about Motörhead, they’re a metal band as famous for their excesses as their deafening music. Also, Lemmy plays his electric bass like…

 

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I’m not the right guy to ask

Someone sent me a link to Scott Adams’s post “I Hope My Father Dies Soon” and asked me my opinion on it. In his piece Adams says the following: My father, age 86, is on the final approach to the long dirt nap (to use his own phrase). His mind is 98% gone, and all…

 

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Collapsed by the community

You may have noticed that I don’t allow comments on my posts. I’ve been told that an unmoderated comment section would increase my traffic dramatically. I doubt it. That applies to political blogs, but the people who like my books aren’t the type who visit blogs all day to either support or oppose the latest…

 

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Ceilings want me dead

In my senior year at Lewis and Clark College, in Portland, Oregon—alma mater of Monica Lewinsky!—I moved into the second floor of an apartment complex off campus. A friendly Turk and his Iranian wife were the owners. He told us to call him Bob. Though he spoke perfectly colloquial American English, he had a thick…

 

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That which was lost has been found

In 1975, when we moved from Tyler, Texas, to Rijswijk, the Netherlands, we had to put much of our furniture and possessions in storage. Most of the rental homes in the Netherlands were furnished. We rented a storage facility, had our things packed up, and flew off to Holland. When we moved to Stavanger, Norway,…

 

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An unexpected un-ghosting

After Mom’s funeral and the reception, I heard car doors slam in the driveway of what I should start calling Tim’s house. Since I wasn’t able to attend the service, I went over to talk with Tim, Paul, and Eric to find out how it went. There was a very expensive imported car parked in…

 

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Do your worst

Today I was told of another massive flaw in my Website. It means I was lied to yet again. Corners were cut and I was patted on the head, told, “Yes-yes-yes. Good little Tommy. Bye-bye,” and sent on my way after the final payment was made. That’s okay. My publicists are helping me overcome this…

 

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Accuracy is evil! Shut up!

A plurality of the people interested in military history are terminally unpleasant. I keep having that realization rammed into my block-of-oak head. They believe that accuracy is evil. My latest dust-up with a very unpleasant, truculent military buff was over my statement that a certain book contains many historical inaccuracies. I won’t copy and paste…

 

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The armored man

One of my favorite films is John Frankenheimer’s Seconds. It’s been called the most depressing movie ever made. I disagree. It’s a cautionary tale. The movie is about a secret company that allows disaffected middle-aged men to fake their deaths and start over. For a fee the company gives the men plastic surgery, sets them…

 

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