A Deaf in the Family: Dating (pt 2)

I started to take the idea of dating seriously, and tried to be open.

While I was trying to put together in my mind what I wanted from a potential husband (something I never really did when I was young) I kept writing and stayed in contact with most of my family and friends through email, livejournal (the precursor to “blogs”) or instant messaging.

Writing consumed most of my free time at this period in my life. It was a good diversion from feeling sorry for myself, my situation, being angry at the ex, and trying to adjust to being a single mom.  I was delving into scifi, something I hadn’t really done before, and my first serious foray was a short story called: A Rock and a Hard Place. I posted on my livejournal and it went like this:

sky earth space working

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Richard “Rock” Klein

Captain’s Log 14.10.2665

Outside Uranus (isn’t that ironic)

Kerry Portsmith Station

Docking Bay 24

They say space is cold. But it’s not *just* cold. No one has ever really felt how cold it is and lived to tell about it. We know instinctively that anything so vast and so empty must be cold.

The irony is that all the things we spend time with while in space also make us feel cold and empty. We travel in cold metalic ships from cold empty space to cold empty space.

Machines have no disability like perception. Filled with Artificial Intelligence and hundreds of processors heating up their hard drives, they are still only metal and plastic. They don’t care if they sit in space or in a shipyard for twenty years. They do not desire warmth and companionship. They just exist.

If you have one of those new bioships it might feel a little more like a horse than a cold lifeless THING, but in the end, it’s still a machine. It gives out as much personality and intelligence as an animal and it only lives to fill it’s purpose. It knows exactly what it should be and do. There is no goal for a spaceship to one day be a station. It is what it is and will never be more.

We try to fill the spaces with ego or warm it with personality. Those of us who spend so much time in space hardly know what exaggerated bravado is. We believe the lies we tell ourselves. We believe all the fantasies we create about ourselves and the things… and people, we love – or maybe it’s just ‘want.’

I’ve given up trying to tell the difference between love and desire. I just want warmth.

We leave a planet’s atmosphere to be greeted by a sheet of black with pinpricks of light. There is so much empty blackness between each point of light, that space seems cold even without feeling the temperature drop. We spend much of our time trying to make it feel warm and filled.

The ship is cold and empty this morning, but it won’t be tonight. Tonight she comes.

Samantha.

Three years ago she warmed these halls. It was three years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. No one has ever turned me on, out and completely neutroned me like Sam did. We were good. No. That’s a lie. We were slammin’ fantastic. I know how good it can be between a man and a woman.

That’s why I hate her.

You might look at the logs from six years ago and come to the same conclusion I did: She could be a cold hearted bitch.

Still… a cold hearted bitch is better company than an empty starship.

It was just a little story told using the method of narrating from a captain’s journal, but there was a reply from someone who had never replied to my journal before and the comments after the story went like this:

Slyfoot: Hey, I’m a Sci-Fi fan!

You’ve really got me interested in what happens next!

I really am interested, it’s not just ‘coz it’s the polite thing to say.

Me: I believe you. You don’t normally drop me ‘polite’ comments just to tag my LJ, so I appreciate the attention. (and I’m serious about this story, so it’s good to have someone to help me gauge if it’s still interesting).

Slyfoot: Yeah, keep at it! Maybe you’ll be the next Orson Scott Card. 🙂

PS: I have a Star Trek tattoo, too, lol.

Me: Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.

 

Part 3 next week

Part 1 can be found here

Sam’s schizophrenia part 1 here

and part 2 here

 

Hobbit Fables #1

My husband and I were talking about the kids and their incessant whining this morning–mom is so evil! She makes me do dishes!–when the Hobbit came up with this lovely Fable that reflects our lives:

 

A dad had kids who refused to eat end pieces of bread. So he told his kids: “Hey, kids, the end pieces are like rolls. You like rolls, so you shouldn’t have a problem with the end pieces of bread.” So the kids quit eating rolls.

 

Jedi Mind Tricks – Magiking Your Husband Away

Today my husband and I went on reconnaissance to Sam’s Club. We do this to refill the freezer and the emergency kits. Inevitably, the Hobbit needs to be fed–It’s way past second breakfast–so we usually pick up a hotdog combo. My hobbit was munching his grundage while we were shopping. It was just a small trip (under 200 dollars) but drinking 32 ounces of Dr. Pepper will make a hobbit need to find relief. He toddled off to use the hobbits room while I checked out. He just got back when my cashier was finishing up our purchase. I handed the Hobbit his Dr. Pepper cup and fingerspelled “refill” to him. He, of course, was happy to have another 32 ounces of liquid energy, so he went right off to refill his cup.

I heard “OH!” from my checker and turned to him. He laughed and said “That was funny.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your husband came up, you waved your hand and he totally turned right back around like you had waved him off.”

“Oh, he’s deaf, I was just fingerspelling to him to get a refill.” I said.

“Yeah, I finally got that, but at first it was like you had just waved him back to where he came from without even speaking and he didn’t even speak back. It was like you telepathically said ‘go over there’ and he just did.”

“Heh. Jedi Mind Trick.” I said and went to reclaim my Hobbit.

I explained this all to him and he laughed while I waved my hand in front of his face. “Jedi Mind Trick,” I signed to him. He laughed again and again and again as he kept thinking of the adventure I just had.

My life is truly full of magic.

Mad Blind Man Skillz

So… The Chinese try to suppress a blind man and get embarrassed when he escapes.  Why did they do this?  Did they not see any of the episodes of Kung Fu where a full band of ninja’s can’t beat a single blind man?  Have they not read a single Daredevil comic?  And what about Star Trek: the Next Generation?  Don’t they know the mad engineering skills of the blind?

I have seen the mad skills of the blind for myself.  My husband was talked into a game of horseshoes just a few weeks ago.  His first shot was a ringer.  He played the sighted man to a draw.  Those are mad blind man skilz.

There are many more skills, of course: the ability to find a way to break just about anything AND they can find almost anything… usually things they don’t really want to find, and almost always with their (bare) feet.

Can you imagine the power of a unit entirely composed of blind men.  They don’t need daggers or guns, just a cane.  I don’t know why the military has never harnessed the power of the blind into an entire unit of such destruction and elite power of empathy that even the hardened veterans of the Navy Seals would have to tremble–or at least stand back from the swinging blind cane while trying to decide what is to be done.

Blind men have powarz and skilz that should not be misunderestimated.