Amazon – A Recluse’s Dream (Almost)

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With all the news and hubbub over Amazon being denied the greenlight to set up HQ2 in NY, as well as Amazon being seen as a contributor to the homelessness crisis in Seattle, you’d think the number one online retailer would be labeled as The Evil Empire. I’m sure quite a lot of folks view them that way and their overlord, Jeff Bezos, as being nothing more than a steel-spined, mace-wielding dungeon master. But all is not so graven, though. Amazon is now so big, I’m actually surprised they haven’t branched out and started selling other items you can’t usually buy online, like cars. Or hot food. And that’s what makes them a recluse’s dream – almost.

As a near recluse, it’s easy to see why people become this way. Enya, the multi-millionaire singer/songwriter who lives as a recluse in a well-protected castle in Dublin, is an example of this. Who wants to deal with all the ornery, subjugating personalities that you encounter every day? People can be ruthless and smothering, and I’ve found that, over the years, it was best to avoid them all personally. I’ve actually given it a shot, several times in fact, from when I lived in an isolated reservoir in upstate NY to my lengthy stays in my car on the highways and byways of America. I really wish I could stay hidden forever, but one thing keeps dragging me out of my castle – restaurants.

I have a history of buying food and items in bulk from Amazon; they’re perfect for that sort of thing. 100 cans of chili here, 150 cans of Chef Boyardee there – all that goes a long way with the 100 rolls of toilet paper that’ll get delivered promptly to your door, no questions asked. But, if you’re like me, and you sometimes get tired of eating the same things day in, day out, you have no choice but to dine in one of the local eateries every so often. I suppose getting in a little sunlight now and then is probably good for the soul, so I shouldn’t complain. Still, I have a prediction: Amazon will offer a drone service where you can order any meal from any restaurant and have it delivered to your site, remote or not, within, say, 30 minutes. Now that would be the perfect recluse’s dream.

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So…This Is What Complacency Feels Like.

After a late winter snow storm, Grosvenor Park, North Bethesda, MD, USA.

Yawn. I don’t know if I can get used to this. Let’s see. I’m 56 years old. In a sense, I’ve been to hell and back. I’ve suffered a stroke. I’ve been a drug addict. I’ve been homeless for years. I’ve been stabbed (left forearm) and shot (left shin). I’ve had my life threatened by a crazy drug dealer in L.A. and have hanged out with the worse people in the worst places in NY, Nashville, LA and Seattle. I’ve owned many musical instruments over the years which I eventually sold to pawn shops for a pittance. Did I mention I’ve been homeless in Rhode Island, NY, Nashville, LA and Seattle? I’ve been hospitalized for psychotic breaks and am now diagnosed as being autistic, diabetic, and suffering from PTSD, bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, obstructive sleep apnea and gouty arthritis. Yes, I have abandonment issues and I’ve made one serious suicide attempt which landed me in a now-defunct psychiatric hospital (Creedmor) for two months. I’ve also been a tortured, miserable nurse for about 30 years and have had my share of near-death experiences driving a cab in snowy weather. Hell, I wanted to end it all when I became ultra-dehydrated and weak from riding my old, clothes-laden bike for two days (about 100 miles) in the hot sun from White Plains, NY to Saugerties, NY. Through it all, I somehow managed to study Jainism, play in bands, record a few albums, drive around the country, and write and publish some novels, screenplays, audio books, short stories, and so on.

Then, two days ago, everything stopped.

I’m complacent now. Thanks to SSDI, I don ‘t have to worry about food or a place to live. As a matter of fact, I’m in my dream home – an adult community in a safe, quiet, artistic, progressive town on the waterfront. I have good doctors and, even though I don’t have a car anymore, the bus service is pretty adequate around here. And even though I should, I don’t get out as much as I’d like – except to the food bank every week – because I have a big ass ROKU TV and Android TV to entertain me, as well as two computers (including this one month old, spanking brand new HP), a new 88-note semi-weighted keyboard, new audio monitors, and enough audio creation software, music, movies and games to keep me busy for the next 20 years or so. So what have I been doing for the past two days? Sleeping.

Maybe I miss the days when danger was just a few steps down the way, when, at any given moment, the police could suddenly roll up on me as they’ve done several times in NY, LA and Seattle. Maybe I miss freezing to near death in my car and then being forced against my will to do crazy things like break into a bank, a church, an abandoned building, or a police station. Maybe I miss the decrepit, dangerous, dark crack houses dotting the thorniest places from coast to coast. Sigh. I do miss ambling about naked in public parks and supermarkets, but that was my bipolar talking, not me. As it stands, technically, I don’t have to write books or music to try to make a living anymore; I’m already there. I suppose I can just get wasted every day and watch the world go by. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be too thrilling, though. I hope all this complacency is just my depression, and our rainy/snowy winter weather, talking. If not, I don’t think I could last too long this way.