If you’ve read my blog for any discernible period of time, you know that there are times when I’ve gone through some personal challenges. Essentially, having a really bad day.
When I had a really bad day in ninth grade – for example, that one time when I got off the bus and there were fifteen kids from Lisha Kill Junior High School waiting at my bus stop, all patiently waiting their turn to kick my ass (and getting their chance to do so), I went in my room and closed the door and read comic books and imagined that I was in the world of the Fantastic Four and the Avengers.
When I was living in the Chestnut Prison a year later, with an emotionally abusive father and stepmother, I stayed in my room and I listened to my small collection of 45’s – and when I got tired of those 45’s, I flipped them over and listened to the B-sides.
When I was living with my aunt and uncle on Southern Boulevard in Albany, and they felt it was more important for me to stay out of school and take care of their kids (and be an additional welfare recipient), I stayed at the library and I read books until my eyes hurt.
When I was in college, and I felt the emotional crippling of being a poor, inner-city kid in a liberal arts campus that was populated by the rich and powerful, I found solace at the Root Glen and I relaxed until I was one with nature.
When I recovered from an emotionally devastating divorce, I bought a plastic model kit and built it. Then I petitioned for custody of my kid, and became a single father for several years. Oh, and I acquired a cat.
After my second divorce, I took old Queen Anne windows and smashed out the glass, and repurposed the windows with personal artwork. You might know them, it’s the Dream Window series from the blog.
During the pandemic, I found solace in a return to my college radio station.
These are the things I did when I had a really bad day.
Here’s what I didn’t do when I had a really bad day.
I did not go to a spa or to a massage parlor and murder eight people. I did not claim that I was justified in doing so because of some sexual frustration or addiction.
Let’s get things straight. This clown MURDERED EIGHT PEOPLE. Don’t justify it by saying he had a really bad day. And this sheriff who said that the clown murdered eight people just had a “really bad day” should immediately resign for such comments.
Because now there are families of eight people in Atlanta who are planning last-minute funerals and grieving for the rest of their lives.
Just because someone claimed he had a “really bad day.”