Sandy the Destructive Bitch, Eythor falls apart, and the Revenge of Jeremy Affeldt

Hang on, everybody, this is gonna be a long one…

Hurricane Sandy and its impact on the East Coast has shaken up our nation and has altered my current agenda. Readying for the publication of my long-awaited book, How High Should I Jump? The Satirical Guide to Pleasing Today’s Woman, by Seaburn Books in New York City, and with my enthusiasm all set to dive into promotion, Sandy has brought a great change to both our nation, and my status.

Yes, I have jumped into full-time relief mode at the expense of damn near everything else, it seems. I have many, many friends and family living in the Tri-State region, all sorts of family spread along the Jersey Shore and some dearly beloved Greek friends in Queens (who I’ve yet to hear from!), along with a couple old friends out on Long Island. Putting aside my concerns, I decided to act, and by acting, I mean showing up with cash.

Friends, having survived the ’89 earthquake in San Francisco, and the 2008 Humboldt Fire here in Northern Cal, I have learned that the best possible relief tool, aside from physically offering bottles of water and ready-to-eat-meals to those in immediate need, is cash, for cash can make instant changes in the lives of the afflicted. I saw it in SF and I saw it here in ’08, so I contacted my local bank and the Red Cross and set up a fund with $1000 of my own money. Not a helluva lot, I agree, but it’s what I can afford, and despite all sorts of criticism of the Red Cross (slow, inefficient, too much bureaucracy, etc.), I went straight to them. Why? Well, they have vast experience in dealing with emergencies like these, I’ve seen the Red Cross in action several times overseas and was impressed with their dedication, and I just think they have the biggest, quickest hammer of all the available arsenals. That’s my choice, and I’m challenging all my readers to make theirs, whether to the Red Cross or some other relief organization, but make the choice and send what you can NOW! It WILL make a difference, even $10.

Today is Sunday and by yesterday afternoon, I had collected over $2200! Not bad, eh? Many thanks to the generous people up in Butte County, CA, my friends in Reno/Washoe County, NV, and my truly generous friends in San Francisco. Yes, I was hasty in getting the word out to everyone, not everybody who wanted to donate through my account was properly notified (sorry, Steve, Wendy, Torrance!) and there was some confusion at the bank, but that’s all straightened out now and the money has been sent to the RC (I have since closed the account, as it’s probably easier for everybody else to just wire or text what they can than going through me).

I’ve heard from most of my people and most are still without power and food, relief coming in a week or so. The devastation is enormous, and sad, and now the twofold problem, immediate relief and looter suppression along with the monstrous rebuilding effort, looms like a great menacing beast. A fearful scenario, indeed, but I say, screw the fears! I’d like us to see it in a new and much more healthy light, that of a real opportunity and indeed a challenge to rebuild this beloved region and make it better than it was, and safer, for years to come.

My heart is just sick over the devastation, and it’s almost impossible to get any real work done in the face of so much suffering and uncertainty. Let’s all do what we can, especially those of us beyond the ‘carnage zone’, and pitch in our cash and donations, saying prayers of gratitude for all we enjoy, and prayers of love and hope for those who have suffered.
~

With this in mind, I got an email for our ‘wallowing in misery over his unfaithful wife’ friend, Eythor. I had almost forgotten his plight in the wake of Sandy, but he, uh…reminded me of how difficult and destructive sexual betrayal can be:

“This is most shameful, most embarrassing and it was only today that my mind seemed to return to me. Milton, you were SO RIGHHT!!! Why didn’t I listen to you? And I even promised I would do what you said yet I didn’t. I folded, into some irrational, completely childish behavior that I am now fully ashamed of. I should have either left or been up front with my discoveries and my feelings but I was not.

I went in on that Monday to my boss’ office and suddenly did something unthinkable, I HIT HIM IN THE FACE! Milton, it just came out of me, he didn’t even get a chance to say a word before I launched myself at him. I embedded his tooth in my knuckle and it is still so very painful, but what is actually more painful is my humiliation, when he not only told me I was fired but that he felt my wife was the best sex he had ever had in his life and now, he wasn’t going to stop with her but he now planned to use her sexually and even SHARE HER with his friends, along with some of MY OWN ASSOCIATES! Then he had the audacity to have me removed from the building by security, men I had hired!!!

Milton it is going beyond my ability to control, all of this. Every move I seem to make is the wrong move, and here, you kindly seemed to understand the right moves in every case and I never listened!!!

I drove about town all Monday asking myself what to do, could I even go home to face my wife? Eventually I did and found a great shock: my items, my cherished belongings all in boxes and lined up outside my house. My wife left only a note, saying here are your things, I will send you divorce papers when they are ready.

Milton, my behavior has been disgraceful and quite irrational. Now that I have emptied myself of emotion, I can clearly see where I have erred, in so many ways. But as you said to me, it IS too late to retrieve it, too late. Now I must act but I have not the will or the energy to be strong. I want to sleep, if anything, to let slumber delude me. I shake and still cannot eat, I tried to drink but ended vomiting and I should change my clothes and begin attempting to pick myself up but I simply have not the energy. I will be staying with brother, thanks GOD who has been through his own divorce, a time which will allow me I HOPE to resume my senses and even find work. Work is not my priority now, actually, I don’t know what my priority is or should be, since I can’t do any of the fine acts you advised. It is over. Thank you for every attempt to reach me. Perhaps if I had had your book, there may have been something there to lead me elsewhere…”

(Oh, if you had had my book, you STILL woulda suffered the pain you’re suffering under but it woulda abated much sooner and you’d have been able to…ah, alas poor Orick…)

I received a note this week from a guy claiming that betrayal, at least for guys under 40 nowadays, was no big deal, “…since nobody really forms attachments anymore and everybody’s sick of failed marriages and shitty monogamous lies.”

Bingo, ‘shitty monogamous lies‘, yeah, the fallacy that ‘I’ll be true to you forever’. Sure it’s a fallacy, impossible today when women especially have so many options and choices before them. And I would agree that, for the men you’ve described, those guys under 40 who are fucking everything that comes to them and don’t have to do any work to get a girl into bed, sure, there probably is no fear of betrayal, or even any reference to that word. However, for the remaining bulk of ill-formed and struggling men, sexual betrayal, when the woman you love gives herself sexually to another man, and you learn of it, why, it is still one of the most crushing events in a man’s life. Witness Eythor, an otherwise highly intelligent professional man who appears now to be little more than warm Jello with respect to spinal cord tensile firmness…

A few words to Eythor: brother, you never controlled this and you still don’t and the pain and confusion ain’t just gonna go away over night. Yeah you fucked up, huge, but you ain’t the only man who has reacted possessively or violently in similar situations. Now you gotta live with what you did -and didn’t- do. Now, I can’t and will never tell you what to do; I can only comment on the consequences of what you might do, but the decision is always yours, yet the only decision you should make now is NO decision. No more thinking, analyzing, worrying; you’ve done that to death and, for all your mental gymnastics, look what it brought you: further confusion. Now, rest the mind and spirit, let the emotional intensity fall away, give it, you and her time.

Eventually, you’ll understand what you must do
~

And now, for something joyous and uplifting:

The San Francisco Giants swept the Detroit Tigers in 4 straight games to win the 2012 World Series last Sunday night! I and so many of my Giants-loving friends are in ecstasy, transported into states of bewildering pride, disbelief and joy. What an amazing victory, and when nobody would give us any credit, all eyes on Detroit, who’d surely crush us when they ‘got hot’…an event which never came, thanks in large part to Giants pitching.

On that, I will now offer a public apology to the much-maligned Jeremy Affeldt, relief pitcher extraordinaire. For the earliest part of the season, Affeldt simply sucked, lost several games and seemed to lose his touch altogether. I had been a fan but by mid-season, I became ill whenever he would come in the game, knowing we were sure to lose, which we generally did under Affeldt’s unreliable charge! But he never tanked and, once the post-season started, this guy became rock solid, such that when everything was on the line, Game 4, 9th inning…well, lemme relate some of the drama:

Game tied 3-3, Affeldt comes to the mound to face perhaps the most feared hitting group on baseball. 1 run should win it for the Tigers, and Affeldt’s task is beyond the human: after his first batter, he’ll face Miguel Cabrera, Prince Fielder and Delmon Young, and as everyone I was with just knew, there was no way he’d be able to hold the line against that trio; no way. I sat with my beer getting warm in my hand, a gnawing, ugly feeling welling up inside: well, at least we got Game 5, though we’d be facing Verlander, the game’s best, and their renewed momentum. Nah, doesn’t look good for us…

…Especially after Affeldt walks the first batter. Shit, 1 man on and Cabrera to the plate, the Triple Crown winner and clearly best hitter anywhere, geez, we’re doomed, we’re…what’s this, Cabrera strikes out? Momentary relief, then Fielder to the plate, the guy who’s been in a slump but has the best deep ball launch of anybody. Here it comes, I thought, game over…but, wha…? Fielder strikes out, too? This can’t be happening, it’s Affeldt, how’s he doing this? Still, none of us could relax, for here comes Delmon Young to the plate, who’d only a few innings earlier hit his own soaring home run. Shit, no chance…

…But man, was I wrong, Affeldt strikes out Young to end the inning and get us out of danger, where, an inning later, after Ryan Theriot gets on base and the amazing Marco Scutaro brings him home, Sergio Romo seals it with a 3 straight strike outs, the last a called 3rd strike fastball down the middle to, yes, Miguel Cabrera. The Giants win the Series, and balance is again restored in the Universe.

What Affeldt did to fan those 3 studs is a legend that will grow in time. His heroics that inning against clearly overwhelming odds marks, for me, the greatest single achievement of the 2012 post-season. “I never thought you had it in you, Jeremy, so I take my hat off to you and offer an apology for all those times I tossed you under the bus. Great job, Affeldt, and great job San Francisco Giants, 2012 World Series Champions!”

And with that, I return to my vigil…

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