Ain't No Sunshine

When my 6 a.m. cellphone alarm chimed to get me up, I was reluctant despite believing that I had slept more or less a normal night.

A little later I visited the backyard tool shed for some exercise, managing the usual shallow performance of just a single repetition in six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups.

Note that I have suspended doing dead hangs because I believe they were the cause of a developing pinched nerve / cramping sensation in the fused sacral region of my spine. Sometimes when I would move, the paralyzing jab of threatening pain would make me spasm as if suddenly jolted or delivered a blow by some unseen assailant.

The sacral part of the spine is the part fused into your pelvis and just above the so-called tail bone, and just below the sweep of the curved part of the spine resulting in 'the small of the back'..

Anyway, I finished up my exercising with the usual squat work to keep my damaged right knee challenged.

Back into the house I fixed up my day's first meal and then brought it upstairs here to my bedside computer to soon enjoy.

My younger brother emerged from his bedroom shortly after 8 a.m.

We didn't seem to have frost last night, although it was certainly there the previous night. But what is especially notable is that I have been correct in believing that we have not even had a blanketing of snow so far this Fall / Winter / Spring period.

I cannot remember such a situation before, but it has reportedly happened ─ our last snow-free period at this time of year was 1982/1983. But the season is not yet done ─ snow has fallen heavily even in March.

Prior to 1982/1983, a snowless season has only occurred once before in my lifetime (I am 76), and that was in 1957/1958. It had also happened in 1944/1945, in 1937/1938, and 1925/1926.

And here I bloody am, too damned crippled to walk distances in the wee a.m. as I have tried to do for years.

But continuing with my morning, a little after 9 a.m. I joined my brother for our usual morning T.V. session. He was quick enough to surrender the T.V. to me so that I could start operating our old T95Q Android 9 TV Box, at which time I led us off with a wonderful 57-minute (57:18) video streamed yesterday to YouTube's AnitaK channel: What Went Wrong in Tumbler Ridge with Shadoe Davis.

I sit down with fellow broadcaster Shadoe Davis to guest on his show.

After that I tuned back in the show we had broken from yesterday after 23 or so minutes due to want of time. It was Star Trek: Discovery ─ episode eight ("If Memory Serves") of season two.

Note that yesterday, I almost backed out of the episode at its start because it was showing old mid-1960s footage ─ or so it seemed to me. I thought for sure I was seeing Jeffrey Hunter footage when he played Captain Pike in the Star Trek pilot episode. To me, it seemed I had tuned in some misfiled old series episode.

Now I wish I had paid more attention, for I did not give it that consideration and cannot clearly recall what I had seen in that opening sequence. Was it original footage, or was the opening sequence just made to look that way?

Our final video was 59 minutes, and had been published July 25, 2019, to BitChute's Adaneth channel: Hadrian.

A 2008 BBC History Documentary hosted by Dan Snow.

In 2008 the British Museum launched its spectacular exhibition on the emperor Hadrian, Dan Snow takes us on a journey around Hadrian's vast empire. As he does so, he uncovers the genius and the darker side of the man: peace-maker, frontier-builder, star-crossed lover, architect - and ruthless oppressor of the jews. But still, Dan concludes, Hadrian was one of the greatest Roman emperors.

My brother returned to his bedroom for more bed rest thereafter, and I was not very long in seeking a nap ─ I must have been down for at least 1½ hours, rising again at 2 p.m. Not much after that, my brother bade adieu to Bev as he set forth to catch a bus and go social drinking.

Around 3 p.m. I sought some light exercising in my wife's vacant bedroom.

At present it is 5:56 p.m. and time for me to get myself a very light meal ─ my day's second eating; and then I shall watch two or three shows here on my bedside computer while doing some drinking.

I will return in the latter evening to finish this post.

⭐⭐⭐

My first can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) was sacrificed to The 100 ─ episode 10 ("Matryoshka") of season six. My source was this 1Movies.bz link.

A very good episode, and the closing scene was quite touching. Am I getting immune to emotion from T.V. shows, though? I have not been overwhelmingly affected in quite some time ─ I miss it.

I suppose the episode finished by 7:22 p.m., and my brother evidently got back home about five minutes later.

My second show and beer finished by 8:33 p.m., and this time I was finally reduced emotionally. It was far more than the episode itself ─ it was what it evoked within this declining old man who is still the young man of yore who is inhabiting this decaying form.

I had dreams and aspirations of comic book scope, for those ─ and T,V. shows like Star Trek ─ inspired me to crave to be heroic. That I live now in retirement as a crippled wretch financially dependent upon my brother and youngest stepson ─ and vulnerable to my wife's predations ─ breaks my ailing heart.

Is there truly a God who would bring this to be, on one who meant such good in the world? I would have exulted, dying while vanquishing evil ones and protecting the innocent and helpless. But this? It is all there is to be for me?

The show I watched was Titans ─ episode five ("Deathstroke") of season two. My source was this TVseries.video link.

Minka Kelly and Alan Ritchson deserved their own series as 'Hawk and Dove'. I think that I could watch those two actors in anything.

I needed more drink ─ a glass tumbler practically brimming with a minimum of eight ounces of Sommet Rouge wine (12% alcohol).

My third and final show involved an opening scene of where a dead 15-year-old girl was being extracted from an apartment building's garbage chute, and a male ─ and normally cynical and hard ─ detective was clearly affected deeply.

That kept the emotion and tears flowing.

But anon I normalized as the show proceeded, and soon it was just another deeply interesting show. It finished a little ahead of 9:40 p.m., and by then I was my normally somewhat inebriated and numbed self.

The show was Prime Suspect ─ episode 12 ("Ain't No Sunshine") of its only season. My source was this uFlix.to link.

My brother was passed out downstairs in his usual chair in the living room supposedly watching T.V. He was in a similar state before my second show of the evening began ─ Titans. Has the mentally weak sot been this way throughout the time that passed between those two points?

I've got to get out of here ... or just die. This must end for me. The most desirable part of my pointless day is the latter few hours when I can drink alone here in my bedroom watching shows alone on my bedside computer.

I don't want to continue. Not like this. But only God can release me from my debts and allow my freedom from my life's incarcerating situation.

It is 9:58 p.m. right now. I am going to take the quarter hour or so to brush my teeth, and then start shutting down everything I have open here on my computer, then get to bed. One would expect that to be happening well before 11 p.m., so we shall see.