Wednesday, September 12, 2012

The Visit

Fuck, I hate mornings. I really despise morning people. You know, those sadists who wake up 6 a.m. because if you don't then "half the day is gone." The day is overrated, give me 21 hrs of night. Perhaps I should move to the Arctic Circle.

Anyway, I had to get up early on a day off, which is equal to hammering spikes through my feet. I made an appointment a few weeks ago to get treatment for a variety of issues relating to depression/anxiety. Finally at the age of 27, I decided to see what I can to to combat issues I have had since childhood.

I hopped in the car and took the lengthy 1.4 mile trek to my doctor's office. While showering, I thought about crawling into bed and sleeping the day away. Perhaps a few months ago I would have. Not today.

As I got dressed, I tried to give myself a pep talk, because I am sure R. Lee Emery was yelling at someone else. Since there was no one else around, I had to play a trick on my brain to get motivated. Whatever I said must of worked, because 7 minutes later I was there.

I checked in at the counter, payed my co-pay, and thought about leaving 8 times in the first 30 seconds. I sat down and took a long look around. I saw a ton of old people. I was easily the youngest person in the office. Everyone was minding there own business.

While playing around on my phone, I overheard a married couple's discussion. The wife had a theory that her husband was having heart problems because of "all that violent crap you watch at night." I suppose Walker, Texas Ranger reruns are to blame for this guys faulty ticker. The women wanted to ask her doctor "why her jaw always got sore when she ate nuts from a jar." Their conversation made me laugh, and loosing me up a bit.

I told the doctor my symptoms and she prescribed a medication called Celexa. It does have some frightening side effects, especially the "heavy menstrual periods." On the plus side, it is also used as a treatment for premature ejaculation. So I can feel better AND last longer in the sack? Sign me up, captain!

The next step is to talk to a therapist. That part of the treatment has been long overdue. I am sure the doctor will have a field day with me.

RIP John "Money" Evans

Over the last few years, I have developed "friendships" with various people online. It really started when I started this blog, at some point in July 2010. Many of them started when I called into "The Ben Maller Show' and through the subsequent social media platforms where I befriended several listeners from the show.

One of those "friends' was John "Money" Evans. Evans was a sarcastic, sometimes arrogant punk that called into show from time-to-time. Ben Maller, the host of the national radio show, often joked about how ridiculous and annoying Money's calls were. I thought they were hilarious. Probably because he reminded me of myself.

When I was 16, I too used to stay up late listening to sports radio. Hell, I probably started listening to sports-talk radio when I was in grade school. I used to always want to call, but never did until I was 23. He stayed up to all hours of the night to talk shit across 300 radio stations. The kid had balls and a great sense of humor. Evans called often, building up the Patriots and Celtics. He was a smart ass, and often had me in stitches.

I started my own sports podcast a few years ago, and Evans was one of my "regulars." He called almost every week, and actually had very good sports knowledge; more than any other kid that I can remember. The kid had a passion for sports, and I tried to talk him into pursuing journalism classes in high school and in college. He won't ever get that chance.

Young Evans died in a car crash in May, in his hometown of Fort Royal, Virginia. He was only 16. 16! I cannot even imagine losing a son, brother, or friend so young. I was lucky in that aspect. But I feel like I lost a friend today. It is kind of bizarre mourning the death of someone you never "met," but I am fighting back tears as I write this. I liked the kid.

I often wonder why and when people die. Why are some people viciously murdered, while others go in their sleep. Why terrible people lead charmed lives, and some slave away, only to be poor and miserable. Life often makes no sense to me. This is one of those times.

I cannot fathom a bright kid with so much potential passing away so young. There are no explanations, no rationalizations to fit the occasion. 16 is much too soon for someone to lose their life. RIP Johhny, hopefully someday you and I can talk sports again. John called my podcast from time-to-time, and you can listen here. RIP 'Lil Buddy, we will catch a game together someday.