Limbo

Limbo is a lot like prison. One sits around with things to do but they don’t fill anywhere near the amount of time available. To add to the discontent is the fact that I am in solitary confinement to boot. Now some of this is going to sound like I’m whining and maybe I am. I think it is important, however, to give some voice to the dissatisfied in order to quiet them and get on with some constructive thinking.

The limbo imposed by being called back for a second reading is one. Then the second audition that was Sunday has me in it again, at least until tomorrow night. In the meantime I have kept up with obligations, even made some constructive moves that could have easily been put off. The value of the dailies is evident often. “Doing it now, I am determined.” And, “using my time wisely, I am aware.” These are just two of the many that have taken some hold on my choices and my behavior. All of them are in evidence at some time during the day, week, and month.

There will be quiz tomorrow morning and I’ve been working on three lists of items that will be on it. It is surprising to me to note the amount of effort that goes into learning relatively simple lists of things; the complicating factor is that he said, “Verbatim” from the book. This has me a little spooked. I’ve spent a lot of time on this and I’m still not there; so, I’ll spend some more. One would think It underscores the problems I have in learning lines but there is a slight difference. The play lines are in response to another character, go with movements, have a certain rhyme and reason with the story. These items on the list could be approached that way but I haven’t. This may be a direct benefit of writing this blog tonight.

So here I am, a married man whose wife is gone for ten days, will be back for a short time and then be gone again for another, as yet unspecified, period of time to CA. From October through February she will have been gone a large percentage of the time. I’m out on Wednesday, Thursday, and during the day on Saturday morning and school on MWF. I don’t like meals alone, the evenings, the lunches, the mornings, and the in between times. I am a social being.

If I drank I could have a favorite watering hole to which to go; I suppose I could go over to BCofL and hang out but I’m alone when I go. So what you say? Well that’s exactly right, so what? I could go, see another loner and get a game. Then there are many other places to shoot pool in town and I could find one and go. If I do this it would be to play for money, not much but some to make it interesting. I could be like Gus and shoot pool umpty times a week only I won’t join sessions other than Wednesday night. The key to selecting a place to go is not to get entangled in any kind of obligation; that’s the good thing about a bar. They are there for you whenever you want to go there and there are no service projects, no meetings, no schedule that you have to keep.

Going anywhere causes me to have to go over the hurdle of a collective bunch of minor fears. There is the fear of talking to a nut case who goes on and on about s.t., the fear of being mistaken for a gay person on the make, that a gay person on the make will come on to me, that a female will be lonely and come on to me, or try to set me up for a Seiffert, that I’ll be beaten up and robbed, that I’ll go there, sit and nothing transpires other than the TV set and some minor conversation with the bar tender, then there’s the fear of being diminished for not drinking.

Thomas Jefferson got 1000 letters a year after he finished his presidency. I just finished a book about him and learned so much more about him. He was a social animal and entertained lavishly at the president’s residence and at Monticello. His taste in food, wine, and articles was good, so good that he went bankrupt because he couldn’t seem to adjust his spending habits to suit his diminished income. The author’s chief criticism of him was his two-faced position on slavery. He decried it yet all the time had more than 200 men, women, and children that he owned. She also criticized his stance on who was able to participate in politics, namely white, free, men.

One may ask, from where did this come or where’s he going with this? Well, TJ lived until 1826 during a time without electricity, highways as we know them, airplanes, communications other than handwritten notes and letters. I’ve seen it in many a biography, it isn’t the quality of the communication but the speed of it. Now we have Email, Twitter, Texting, Cell phones, Face book, U-tube;contact is instantaneous. The turnaround time for TJ was probably weeks. He must have been some what like the cell phone queen today; in touch with many and enjoying every minute of it. Bottom-line that’s not for me. I get a little bored exchanging Email. So, I suppose I’m admitting again my misanthropy.

I sit here and bemoan the fact that I’m alone but if and when I’m out with anyone I feel just about as isolated as I do here at home. Yet I am bound and determined to become a more sociable human being. Those with whom I would interact seem to not want to do so with me. This is a problem for me because I don’t know if it’s true or my imagination.