back to boosters and beyond, the dogs of war and finance….and maxx

“beyond” is fresh and crisp so i’ll start with that because i found what maxx did today speaks to me financially.
a note – lately, everything speaks to me financially.
at times, it speaks to me in terms of money and at other times, in terms of greed and stupidity. wealth and greed are two different things.
i learned this in my conversations with the lizards, some i knew would chatting me up at the conclusion of beach-time today. when i got here today, i noticed the eduardo cianelli-sounding lizard-guy (who looks like omar sharif) was in the lot. he was on the phone. we acknowledged each other but i didn’t go over. i noticed the ayn rand-suit-wearing lizard was sitting beside him and it looked like she was holding a large paperback book in her hands. something told me it was atlas shrugged, but that’s just a guess.
i linked a definition to that word. it seemed (or, “i guess it was”) important. maybe it’s because so much of what we (or “i”) do is based on that word and  so much more of it runs the engines on this planet. i might imagine that a “good idea” started as a guess. as i type this, i’m chock-full of supposings and conjectures and what-not. i linked this word, too and it describes the word as french furniture. i just learned a new meaning. the secondary meaning of this word is what i was looking for – “something-like” et cetera, in which case i searched “et cetera” of course and came up with the meaning “and other things,” which should stop this behavior.
there’s nothing to be gained with this except education.
sometimes i feel like i had enough of that and lord knows that’s dangerous thinking, which brings me back to guesses and money and greed and humans and dogs on the beach.
i’ll leave the grifting lizards in the parking lot for now.
what i did here at goodbye blue monday was what i thought was a good idea.
i sold it to myself lock, stock and barrel.
i pitched my idea to a few banks. they came and saw the place and they agreed with me and my good idea. so here i am years later and some of these banks are really angry with me. others are poised to wait. one is even getting paid.
i have friends who don’t have “a business” but they have “their life” in the same kind of peril and have to check the incoming call screen on their phone and breathe deep before going through their mail.
this, for better or worse, is currently “the american way,” for a lot of us.
what more than “hope springs eternal” do i have to allay these anxieties? not a one, except the link i found and attached to the phrase speaks of “optimism clusters in the brain” and i wonder if optimism is part of the makeup of greedhounds who do what they do. i sure hope not.

there’s a purity about optimism and hope that i don’t think goes on inside the halls of “more.”
which brings me back to maxx today, in fort tilden.
we were walking near the old cannon battlements away from the beach. maxx disappeared into some reeds located in a small marsh. i heard sounds like a mop in a bucket. he came out all black and mucky and smelly.
this place has it all.
after this, i picked up a stick and put it in my pocket and me and my dog headed to the beach.
i threw that stick in the ocean because i knew he’d “go fetch.”
i taught him.
maybe this made him dirtier but i don’t believe that, which i imagine is another “guess.”
like the stick i threw into the ocean that caused maxx to “go fetch,” i thought about smart-ass, wise guy captains of banking and how they went after the stick, and in my minds i found myself wondering if i could re-quote shakespeare from julius caesar.
“cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of finance”
i googled away and learned mars (or ares) had two dogs; Deimos, “terror”, and Phobos “fear.” these people did unspeakable ill to good people.
so here i am, sitting before this monitor, typing away, full in my mind that what happened to this world economy wasn’t bad business, but was an act of war.
they never considered anything or anyone. these people are just bad.
i saw the stick i threw drift atop the water and thought about where i started this note, so i’ll go back there. it has something to do with what maxx, my dog, did next after getting the muck off him in the ocean and then lost interest in the floating stick.             he came out and shook the water from his hair (like dogs do) and saw something two bays away. it was a dog.
maxx ran and i couldn’t stop him. he ran and ran and so did i. he attacked this dog and the dog’s owner shrieked and i got there and tackled my dog and apologized while laying in the sand. thank goodness no one got hurt.
there i was laying in the sand calming my crazy animal down as the woman led her dog away saying, “it’s ok. they’re dogs, you know..”
after my (and maxx’s) breathing returned to normal. we headed in the other direction. i thought about my friends are impressed that maxx fetches sticks and even his leash for walks, but i’m no dog trainer.
i thought about this terrible behavior and i said, yeah, this is more like it.
i was back to people and money and greed and it’s like this.
i understand the “market” is filled with people and some of those people have no idea of restraint and they’re as crazy as maxx.

since i began this note, two musicians took the stage and have begun to play classical flute. they are not scheduled but are welcome. this is why we’re here. this is why i do this.
i live for this.
low-maintenance brilliance preferred.

but i digress;
to the point of two days ago –
i built this bar in atlanta, georgia in 1994;

front door of scrap bar, atlanta

at the end of construction, just before i opened for business, we were hanging out with the doors open when an older couple walked in with a chocolate-colored labrador retriever. they were a retired couple from new york looking at atlanta as a place to move and settle. we chatted amiably while doug, now about a year and a half-old, was being a puppy in the back of the four-thousand square foot room. all of a sudden, doug didn’t want to be a puppy anymore and ran at this retriever and locked his jaws onto its neck.
the old couple screamed and i tried to open doug’s jaws but ha! on that; meanwhile, two more of my friends tried to help. there was kicking and punching and wrestling going on but doug’s eyes were eerily like a shark’s – unfeeling, cold and unemotional.
then i tried another approach and wedged my hand in between the dog’s teeth and the other dog’s neck.
our combined efforts dislodged the situation. this all happened in the space of thirty seconds.
i ended up with a bloody thumb and it was suggested to me to seek hospital help, which i did.
the doctor asked me “when was the last time you had a booster-shot?”
i couldn’t remember back then, either.
that’s the last time i had a booster shot.
this is “doug’s thumb”.
i wear it everywhere i go;

i didn’t ever equate humanity, finance, greed and stupidity with what a dog would do back then, but i do now. and i never planned on writing two dog-attack stories till maxx did what he did and once again there’s that wonderful(?) thread of now and then being the same moment.

About stephen trimboli

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