Andy Speaks

It's just weather, really. Looking at my emotions as objectively as possible,  I can judge them merely as constantly changing bits of energy that come and go, like moving clouds; Why become attached to the clouds?  When you ask the average person how they're doing, you know they'll respond with, "I'm good." regardless of the truth. When people asked my father how he was doing he would often respond with, "Sunny with some cloudy periods."  The old man could be incredibly astute and honest when it was easier to be banal.  I'm pre-disposed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, as well as Asperger's Syndrome. At least they told me so when I was a child. It helps to get a diagnosis for the pervasive anxiety that follows you throughout your life. It rationalizes the irrational. When I was a kid, I experienced distressing, intrusive thoughts. I still do. I once read that the difference between people who have OCD and people who don't is that peopl...

I quickly got tired of the word 'mask'. It's already become a four-letter word, and not because it's naughty, but because it's clinical, tiresome, too sterile; It sounds like death. It must have been during one of my daily walks that a new-fangled term came to me, and it's stuck because I love the sound of it; Face Panties. Face Panties. Face Panties. Say it with me. Let it swirl around your mind and your mouth like that first sip at a summer wine tasting. Embrace it. Get used to it. Practice its utility in public... "Are you wearing your Face Panties? No? Then you can't enter my store. " "Stay away from my children if you're aren't wearing your Face Panties!" They're easy to find. They're affordable and comfy if you're looking in the right places. You can either go to the drug store and purchase the bland paper ones that your proctologist wears, or you can embrace the New Normal in style! My first pair cost me $16 and...

You've heard all of the predictions; There's going to be a lot of COVID marriages and COVID babies, perhaps quite a few divorces too. What do you think? I'm not so sure. Hardly anyone in my generation is getting married and having babies, to begin with, so wouldn't it be poignant if the virus changed all that? The more I think about it, the more I love the idea of a disease that forces us Millenials to have sex and get married. Move over, Netflix and Chill, another boom is about to erupt!  Let me digress for a moment about this concept of Netflix and Chill. I have to admit that it took me a minute to figure out the actual meaning of this term, which Urban Dictionary defines as a"glorified booty call". Perhaps the idea was lost on me because I was pre-occupied with "Pizza and Masturbate". End of digression.  I keep reading that now more than ever is a great time to be dating. Everyone is lonely and afraid and has the cleanest hands this side of a VIP ...

In a tarot deck, there is a card known as "The Hermit", which symbolizes solitude and isolation. When the Hermit card is upright, it symbolizes patient self-reflection and contemplation. When the card is reversed, it symbolizes the opposite,  loneliness, withdrawal, and concealment.  At this point in this endless period of self-isolation, I probably resemble a hermit. My hair is thick, long, and unruly;  A barber would have his afternoon cut out for him. My beard is becoming unkempt, and I've unfortunately misplaced the guard for my clippers. I could shave my head out of desperation like Britney Spears once did, but I tried that look once and I did myself no cosmetic favors. It's inconvenient, but I feel I have no choice right now but to continue to look like Ted Kaczynski's handsome younger brother.  Right now, I wonder if I look like the Hermit upright, a wise sage with flowing hair, content with the present moment, however difficult and uncertain, or do I resem...

Sorry, but I'm just not feeling it today. I don't feel like getting out of bed early like all the normal people. I don't feel like raking the leaves. I don't feel like reading. I certainly don't feel like looking at the news. I don't feel like writing this blog. I'm restless, angry, tired, uninspired. I have an abundance of things I want to say to you, but I don't have the vocabulary. I'm rendered inarticulate, or at least that's how I feel. Though, maybe I'm wrong. I don't know. Let me know when you're done reading this.  All I want to do is put on my headphones and play some music as loud as I can. Music is one of my best friends during this "trying time". Why is this time referred to as 'trying'? It's not the time that's trying, it's me. I'm trying as hard as I can Goddamn it! We're all snug inside our cocoons, our "safe spaces". I didn't realize how quickly I would become tired a...

It's cold outside, but I'll still trek out for a long walk. Being obsessive-compulsive ignites my monkey mind and plays my most neurotic greatest hits like a jukebox that only plays a handful of brittle 45s. It's ok, the simple act of taking a long walk helps to purge my thoughts.  I don't drive. My G-1 expired last September and my fear of running over schoolchildren keeps me away from the driver's seat. Besides, buying a car is a lousy investment that I can't afford. Walking is fine. It's always served me well. Walking in silence is good for you, and most people are malnourished when it comes to silence. We spend so much time plugged into The Matrix that we forget how boring activities have simple gifts in store for us. Going for a walk or just sitting and meditating for a few minutes can open your mind to insight and you can solve problems that have been gnawing at you. The mercurial muse might even appear, offering inspiration for a creative project that...

Being single during this pandemic has allowed me to put my desires, anxiety, and longing under a microscope. I've been single for about 95.8% of my life, and since I'm an introvert who likes a certain degree of solitude and autonomy, I'm fully capable of enjoying bachelorhood. That being said, I'm only human and I do experience painful loneliness from time to time, especially in this period of people not being allowed to touch each other. I download and delete dating apps on a regular cycle. I sometimes swear off dating altogether and try to convince myself that being single is much better than I give it credit for. I know of couples who grow restless and bored and go to bed early because they spent too much time arguing over what to watch on Netflix. I don't have that problem, I know how to entertain myself. However, one important thing I've learned about being single is that freedom equals loneliness, and since people need each other, self-sufficiency, or at l...

I finally sat my ass down and chipped away at my novel, revising the first couple of chapters that establish the two protagonists. My total page count is 59 double spaced pages, but I'm not ready to start on page 60 because the first 20 or so still need work. I've made a bit of progress which I'm happy with. I just needed to allow myself to get started. It's like when they say that the hardest part of working out is actually showing up to the gym.  I started playing a Barry White album on my turntable. That was just a random choice. You normally put a Barry White album on because you have a girl over, but in this case, I just needed a cool record to play from start to finish so I could have some tunes playing while I work. I also wanted to see if I could write for the length of an entire album. I decided to write for at least the length of Barry White's I've Got So Much To Give LP. I will only get up from my writing desk to switch sides. A few minutes pass. Hey...

Last year I started writing my first novel. Fast forward to the present and I'm only 50 pages into a very rough first draft. Without going into details, I'll tell you that I have two main characters, two men with extremely different career paths and backgrounds, who nonetheless are very close friends. One is in his mid-30s and the other is around 50. It's a big brother/little brother relationship. It's a "bromance", a road story where a vintage muscle car serves as their chariot through a long, strange trip through the open road towards Death Valley, one of the hottest places on earth. That's all I'll tell you about the story, as half baked as it is at the moment. Today I finally came up with a working title, "I'm Driving As Fast As I Can." I may throw that title away, but in the meantime, don't steal it.  I came up with it during one of my daily walks through the neighborhood. Now that I think of it, "I'm Driving As Fast...

Here I sit in my backyard gazebo, my feet on resting on a glass table, the springtime sun beaming down on my black motorcycle hat that belonged to my late father. I don't have to go to work today, I also can't go to work today, or this week, or this month, nor can I work virtually from home, because I'm employed at a small business that can't be open while the invisible threat is floating around. Daily life has turned into a monotonous extended weekend that never ends. I can go for long walks, but I can't sit on a public bench. I can sit at home alone and drink all the beer I want but I can't patronize my favorite pub and hang out with the regulars. I'm not allowed to work or touch or get physically close to the ones I love, but I can binge anything I want, tv-series, old movies, podcasts, junk food, coffee, alcohol. I can't take the risks I usually take, like taking public transit to go into work and be around strangers and co-workers. There'...

These days of uncertainly and disruption make having a routine essential. Sure, it’s easy and even acceptable to lie on my sofa, eat chips, scroll mindlessly through social media while ripping farts that no one but I can hear or smell, but it’s more invigorating to establish a consistent routine; A time to get my ass out of bed, have some coffee, go for a long walk, read, watch bad kung fu movies, listen to 70s rock n roll, coat my hands in pungent alcohol 50 times a day, block CNN from my consciousness, think about how much I really liked that Quebecois girl I dated a couple years ago who dumped me after only two weeks, and of course, let my family and friends know that I’m alive and well, and that my ghastly beard is only going to grow more unkempt. That's fine with me, in fact, it reminds me of George Carlin's poem about hair that he recited on The Tonight Show. These trying times also inspire you to think about what you're grateful for, so here goes... Thank God fo...