My eyes opened, it was morning. I couldn’t move, it was sleep paralysis affecting me. I remembered the dream I had during my fitful sleep. I also remembered that I had a bad day the day before.

Some faceless person said to me:

“People don’t look at the Big Picture of life today! We are all going to die. Homo Sapiens will go extinct. The Sun will burn out and the Universe will collapse. Existence is temporary and pointless. We are all doomed!”

“I can see why people don’t want to look at the Big Picture,” I said.

Mr. Faceless said:

“Well, at least, it puts a bad day in perspective!”

So true, I thought.

Well, back to my dream. By the way I was still in paralysis!

I dreamt that an election was going on somewhere and when they opened the boxes, all the ballots were BLANK! Modern politics had become meaningless to the people.

There was a faceless person in my dream also. He said:

“Politics has descended into a struggle for power among a few unrepresentative elites. They ignore the views of the ordinary people who elected them.”

Mr. Faceless seemed to know what he was talking about.

“Why are politicians hell bent on getting us involved in foreign wars?” I said.

“Because they are seduced by the glamour of international statesmanship. It’s an ego thing,” said Faceless.

He continued:

“Domestic politics is too narrow in scope for the politicians. The problems of the electorate are not glamorous!”

Faceless kept talking:

“Another nightmare is Political Correctness.”

“What is that exactly?” I asked, to see if Faceless had a good definition.

“Well, it is a term which denotes language, ideas, policies and behavior aimed at minimizing offense and discrimination against supposedly disadvantaged people.”

“Sounds like a controlling and censoring strategy to me.”

“That’s right. The PC People are holding all the political parties down. None of them dare to put forth any policy that is not politically correct. So, we have all the big parties occupying the Center Ground.” Faceless was getting angry now. I knew because his voice was getting higher pitched.

“So, it’s pointless to bother to vote!” I said.

“You’ve got it in one.”

It was slightly disconcerting talking to someone who I couldn’t see any facial expressions.

“It’s the “Career Politicians” that are ruining our government.”

“How’s that?”

“They’re a self-seeking bunch that aren’t in the real world. They went to college then got a job helping a politician, and then they figured they could do the job themselves. They never held down a proper job, they have no business skills, hold no real political views, and they survive by being politically correct and sitting on the fence.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me, political correctness has thrown common sense out the window!”

Mr. Faceless was on a roll now:

“Political correctness is an attack on critical thinking, free speech and discussion. God help you if you offend anyone!”

“From what you’ve said, it sounds like PC could be the death of democracy!”

“That’s right.” He frowned.

“The dreaded PC has even killed our comedy! I’ve got a joke for you,” said Faceless, “I’ll tell you later!”

I got out of bed, my paralysis was gone!

I was sitting on my favorite green padded stool in “Dave’s Corner” at my favorite watering hole. Up popped a guy on the next stool. I studied him in the mirror behind the bar.

He was tall, tanned and muscular. I guessed in his mid 60’s. His long grey hair was combed back in a sort of duck-tail. His greying beard was immaculately trimmed. His piecing dark eyes noticed me watching him. He had a serious, determined look on his face.

After he ordered a beer, he spoke to me without prompting.

“The country is going to the dogs! Too many people demanding their rights, but nobody wants to talk about their responsibilities!”

“I totally agree with you. It’s a coincidence, I was just telling the bartender here that I counted over 50 rights people demand, but only 10 responsibilities came to mind. Five rights to one responsibility!”

Just then a drunk at the bar said:

“Hey, the service in this joint stinks,” he shouted.

“I will have to cut you off and tell you to leave,” said the bartender.

“Hey, hold on a minute, I have the right to freedom of speech!”

“Sorry, buddy, you have no rights when you bother other people and don’t take responsibility for your outbursts.”

The drunk left in a huff, mumbling he would take it up with his congressman.

I smiled and said: “We tend to divide rights into two categories, our rights, and their responsibilities. We need to start talking about Human Responsibilities!”

My stool partner spoke up: “The other night when I came home from work, my wife started laying into me about how she wanted to go out, she was going stir crazy!”

I shouted back: “I have the right to some peace and quiet when I come home from a hard day at the office!”

And she shouted: “I have a right to tell you how I feel!”

I smiled.

“That’s what is happening in the world now, conflicting rights. The idea that all humans have basic rights that exist simply because we belong to the human race. There  was a time when codified rights didn’t exist!”

Just then the drunk came back and said:

“My congressman told me, I have the right to say what I feel. Also, I have the right to expect respect from you. I have the right to be angry with you. And finally, I have the right not to be responsible for your problems! I have the right to act the way I want!”

On and on he babbled, even after they threw him out the door!

“That guy has more rights than human beings,” I laughed.

Everyone in the tavern roared with laughter.

“It’s all a matter of balancing my rights with your rights and taking responsibility to live with that balance.”

My drinking companion seemed to be a knowledgeable fellow.

“But can we change to accept out responsibilities? It’s easy to TALK about accepting responsibilities, but much harder to implement!”

“What do you think are the most important responsibilities?” I asked my bearded friend.

“Well, first, let me say that I believe you don’t have rights, which are entitlements or givens, without responsibilities, which are the obligations that go along with rights.”

“My sentiments exactly,” I chimed in.

“Now, some responsibilities people don’t usually think about are:

You are responsible for your decisions and their consequences.

You are responsible to contribute to society and adhere to the law.

And I will add, here, that criminals should have no rights or respect.

You have a responsibility to SPEAK and express yourself thoughtfully, truthfully and in a manner that builds a community, NOT to tear it down.”

“Well, that’s some real food for thought. Maybe people will change and accept these responsibilities, but change takes time and it will take more time if people don’t do it.”

My learned friend had a very serious expression on his face when he said:

“Many leaders in the world don’t accept their responsibilities. When we hand them the reigns of power, they must be held accountable for how they use that power. This is one of the failures of modern democracies.”

We ordered two more beers and started a lighter conversation.

Then the drunk stuck his head in the door and said:

“I’ve seen the light! My congressman has just told me that for every right I have, I also have a responsibility! I DON’T THINK I WILL VOTE FOR HIM AGAIN!”

Have you ever met a person who disagrees with everything you say? Well, I have, my lunch companion at a writer’s do in London.

Every time I came up with a statement, he would say:

“Yes, but…”

“I totally disagree…”

“You are very wrong…”

I think people like this are trying to be superior to you through disagreement.

When you analyze it, argument is a battle of egos. When you agree with someone’s point of view, you lose! When you disagree, you then are asserting your ego, indicating your superiority! It’s an all out battle between competing egos.

For instance, I said:

“I think women believe in psychics and fortune tellers more than men do.”

“You are very wrong there,” said my disagreeing companion.

“Women use logic just as much as men do,’ he added.

“The reason I made that statement is because women have “fun” with fortune tellers, even if they don’t believe them entirely.”

“I totally disagree with you.”

I re-filled my wine glass. I could see I’d need a fair amount of drink to put up with this guy!

“If a woman has a humdrum routine as a house maker, she may enjoy an escape offered by psychics and fortune tellers.”

“Yes, but, what about the career woman who is too intelligent for such nonsense?”

“Women use their emotions more than men do and I think even the career woman would enjoy a little of the escapism.”

He then turned to someone else to disagree with. I was left with a few minutes of peace to eat my lunch!

When he turned back to me, I thought I’d lighten things up, so I told him a joke.

“The best way to get a woman to argue with you is to say something!”

“Hey, that’s not funny, what have you got against women?”

Boy oh boy, this guy even disagrees over a joke!

I took another sip of wine. I was feeling bold now, so I threw another statement out for his ears.

“I’m fed up with the Nanny State.”

“What do you mean? We need someone to help us with decisions!”

“I just think the government tries to regulate our personal behavior too much.”

“You’re wrong, again. Someone has got to ram info home to us.”

“Don’t you think people should be able to make their own decisions about their behavior and then take responsibility for the resulting effects?”

“I disagree, most people don’t know what’s good for them.”

I shook my head in frustration!

“Well, lets take the case of government telling us about a healthy diet and telling us what to eat.”

“Too many people are fat, someone has to read the riot act to them!”

“Well, I think most of us are educated enough to tell what foods are good for us and what foods are bad for us. In the end it’s our choice. You must take responsibility for yourself. Don’t blame fast food places, blame yourself if you’re obese.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Well, arguments have two sides, but no end,” I smiled.

Would this man ever agree with anything I say?

I thought I’d try one more statement.

“In a blindfold test, most people can’t distinguish between whisky and cognac.”

“Nonsense, I can.”

I ordered a shot of whisky and a shot of cognac, and blindfolded my friend with his napkin. I shuffled the glasses around and then had him sniff and taste them.

The one he said was cognac was whisky!

“I got discombobulated when I was blindfolded,” he mumbled.

I thought I’d enlighten him a little.

“What’s the difference between whisky and cognac? Well, whisky is distilled from grain. Cognac is made from grapes. They both are aged in oak barrels. Sometimes, they look and taste similar.”

When he got up to leave, he said:

“I still don’t agree with anything you’ve said!”

I smiled and said:

“Never argue with an IDIOT; he will drag you down to his level and beat you with EXPERIENCE!”

My cousin showed up at my house looking worried.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t remember my wife’s name! What should I do?”

“I suggest you start calling her pet names, like Honey, My Love, Sweetheart, etc. until you can recall her name.”

My cousin looked quizzical.

“Also, the other day, I went to the store and forgot what I went for!”

“Senior moments, my friend, after all you’re over sixty!”

My cousin had a frightened expression now.

“I’m not getting dementia, am I?”

“Calm down, cousin, and take a Prozac!”

“I’m all out of those, I’ll take an aspirin instead.”

“You’re not getting dementia. What’s happening is your memory is changing! Info is processed slower and recall is slower.”

“Is that normal?”

“Yes, it’s part of the aging process. Slightly slower processing leads to awareness, because of aging, allows us to see and understand things better.”

“Oh cousin, you make it sound so good! So, the changes in memory that we have to adapt to, are bothersome but not debilitating.”

“You’ve got it, cousin! Things that came naturally to you, now you must concentrate more on them, that’s why learning new things now takes more effort.”

My cousin turned to leave and as he was walking out the door, he said:

“Life must go on, but I forgot WHY!”

I met my Long Lost Cousin when I was 20 years old and he was 10. Then we didn’t hear from each other for over 50 years! Hence, my LLC!

He was a telephone installer in his working life, now he is retired like me.

My many blog readers want to know if I will ever awaken him to his problems and the solutions to said problems. I will always continue to try to help him with his trials and tribulations in the blog stories. We will always have stories about LLC’s escapades.

Trying to straighten out LLC, I realize just how different people are from each other. Maybe, being in analysis with me might keep him on the straight and narrow.

I think LLC has a deep-seated compulsion to SHOCK people. Like the time he told his neighbor he was being recruited by the FBI to train as an agent! He upset a few people with that statement. That’s why we both drink!

When his house was burgled, he told people the robbers stole his Drug Making equipment!

Sometimes when I’m talking to him, he seems to disappear to a place I can’t locate or understand. “What is he thinking about?”

LLC says he doesn’t lie! One day we were discussing this and I told him to read the Bible-specifically, Mark, Chapter 17. The next day I asked him if he read Mark 17. He said, yes. I said, Mark only has 16 chapters!!!

Maybe something happened in LLC’s childhood. Maybe he’s holding back because he can’t find a way of telling us. But he dreams his story and develops symptoms and he then finds himself acting in ways he doesn’t understand. People don’t challenge him about his lying, they mostly keep quiet. It’s like a big secret!

Then, it all came out, why LLC acts the way he does. His mother and him never were very close. They were rarely alone with each other in the growing up years. One night, he wet the bed and his pajamas. He threw the sheets and PJ’s into the corner of the bedroom.

The next night he found his bed sheets dry and his PJ’s nicely folded ready for him to put on. Apparently his mother never mentioned his problem to his father or anyone not even LLC!

This developed into a secret between mother and son. LLC and his mother were partners in this secret. He felt very close to his mother at last!

When she died, he wanted to keep his mother close to him. So the way he did this was to: Tell lies and hope the people who he told them to would not tell anybody, they would become like his mother- his secret partners!

Well, it takes all kinds!!!

Now, LLC is growing a beard.

You ask why?

Because then, NO ONE COULD CALL HIM A BARE FACED LIAR!!!

One night when my Long Lost Cousin and I were walking home from the movies, we decided to take a different route home. We ended up in a neighborhood of Victorian houses. I always thought these huge houses looked scary! One had a red neon sign, flickering “The Witches Brew Pub”, interesting knick-knacks for sale.

We were thirsty, so we entered. The place was dimly lit, with red leather booths and bar stools. As soon as we got our bearings, we saw a display cabinet filled with antique crystal. The whole lounge had a mirrored ceiling. Behind the bar was also a long mirror, that seemed to have pale faces staring out at you.

There were women cocktail waitresses and bartenders, all dressed in long black dresses. They had pentagram earrings and necklaces. They were all very good looking!

We both grabbed a stool.

“Hello gents, we specialize in the Witches Brew Cocktail, would you like to try one?”

“Yes, what’s in them?” I said.

“Raspberry vodka and raspberry liquor, lime and cranberry juice, ground cinnamon on top. All in a highball glass filled with ice.”

“Wow! That should have a kick to it,” said LLC.

I felt like we were being watched, maybe it was those faces in the mirror!

“This place looks like a witches den,” I remarked.

“That’s right, and we’re all witches here,” said one of the bartenders.

“Hey lady, what do you call a witch who lives at the beach?”

“Don’t know,” said the bartender witch.

“A sand-witch! That’s funny, right?” LLC was laughing!

“Yea, it went over like a lead broomstick!”

We both gulped our cocktails!

“Two more Witches Brews please.”

There was a table in the corner of the lounge full of skulls, candles and pentagrams, plus some vials of liquid labeled “Love Potion”!

“They are all for sale, must be the knick-knacks,” said LLC.

“What do these items symbolize?” I asked the lady behind the counter.

“Well, the skull represents Death, the candles are used in rituals, spells and for ambiance, and the five points of the pentagram represent the five elements, Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit or Energy.”

“Thank you for that information,” I said, smiling.

“I’m going to buy some love potion,” said LLC, laughing. “I need all the help I can get.”

“Lots of luck, cousin.”

“What is witchcraft anyway?”

“Well, I think it is the use of magical powers in Pagan religious rituals, to make you feel good, like for medicinal purposes, remember the witchdoctors? Also, to put a spell on someone for revenge.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“In the old days, in different countries, people used to have witch hunts and they executed women who were supposed to be witches.’

“What’s that big book on a stand behind the bar?”

“That’s the Book of Shadows. It contains instructions for magical rituals and spells!”

LLC raised his eyebrows in amazement.

The witch bartender went to wait on another customer.

“She’s good looking, I wonder if I can slip her one of these love potions?” LLC was laughing loudly now!

“The witches are supposed to have the power to look into the future,” I said.

“I feel another joke coming on.”

The drinks were getting to LLC!

“Why did the witch give up fortune telling?”

“Why?”

“There was no future in it!” LLC was rolling in the aisles now.

After two more brews we left.

The next day, when we met up. I said:

“You were really floating last night. Did you get home okay?”

“I really don’t know how I got home last night. But in the morning there was a broomstick beside my bed!!!”

My Long Lost Cousin, in his younger days, was a telephone installer. He related this story to me:

“I was with another installer in a high rise building on the 20^th floor. We were putting in several telephones on that floor. A fat lady came out of a flat and said:

“Are you the telephone man?”

Now, I was carrying a few new phones and I thought that was a dumb question.

So, I said: “No lady, we’re plumbers!”

The fat lady smiled and said: “I have a dripping facet, can you come in and fix it?” She had a new washer to install.

She offered me $10, so I had a few minutes to spare and the money would buy the drinks after work.

I proceeded to unscrew the facet and the water suddenly was spurting out all over the bathroom!

“Where’s the stop cock?”

The fat lady said: “I don’t know, I just moved in!”

The water is now coming out of the bathroom into the hallway!

I ran through the apartment looking for the stop cock. I finally found it in the kitchen. I turned the water off!

But now, the water has leaked to the downstairs flat. A big burley guy comes up and grabs me. He shakes me violently!

“Don’t you know your business?” he shouts.

“I’m the telephone man,” I whispered.

“He told me he was the plumber,” said the fat lady.

The burley guy gave me a right hook to the jaw! I ran to the elevator and got out of the building, never to return again!

Well, my cousin’s partner finished the installations that day.

My LLC vowed he would never be a SMART ASS again!

My Long Lost Cousin came to my house the other night in a state of panic!

“What’s wrong, Cousin?”

My Cousin’s face was as white as a ghost’s!

“I put myself in a hypnotic trance and I almost didn’t get out of it!”

“Relax, and tell your Cousin Dave all about it. Do you want a beer or a whiskey-Seven?”

“I think I need a double whiskey-Seven!”

I got myself a beer and my Cousin his whiskey.

“Okay, let’s hear the story and see if I can help.”

“You know I’ve been having problems with insomnia and over-eating.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I bought a book on Self-Hypnosis because I thought it could help me without drugs or therapy.”

“Sounds sensible, your inner resources needed a boost.”

LLC continued: “First, I tried the Navel Technique for calmness and peace of mind, to relax me before the main event.”

“What happened?”

“I laid down on the floor of my study and looked up at the oil painting of the bikini-clad girl. She has a wonderful navel!”

“I don’t remember that picture, is it new?”

“I bought it a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh! Please go on.”

“Well, I started breathing deeply, with my stomach pushed out, then I inhaled through my nose. Then I exhaled through my mouth with my stomach held in. Then I contemplated the navel.”

“Whose navel, yours or the oil painting?”

“The oil painting!”

“I think you’re supposed to be contemplating your navel.”

“I can’t see my navel!”

“In your imagination, Cousin, after all it’s only a hole in your belly!”

“Okay, okay, after a few minutes of navel gazing I felt relaxed. So I could use this technique to get to sleep.”

“That’s one problem solved,” I said, hopefully.

“Now, I went on to the main event, the technique to cure my over-eating.”

“Is this the one you almost didn’t get out of?”

“Yes, it was very scary. You know when you’re in a dream, and you want to get out of it, but you can’t move, complete muscle weakness. Sleep Paralysis!”

“Describe the technique, please.”

“I did my deep breathing and navel gazing, then I started to rub my feet and legs to stimulate blood circulation. They warmed up nicely. Then I put a blanket over my feet, legs and thighs. The warmth felt good.”

“It was relaxing also, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. Then I imagined I was buried up to the waist in quicksand! There were two figures standing on the hard ground looking at me. One held out a stick and the other held out a plate of delicious fattening food.”

“Oh, oh, decision time!”

“Right! If I took the stick I would be saved and I would realize I can conquer my over-eating. But I grabbed the plate of food and every time I ate a goody, I sunk down farther in the sand!”

My Cousin was a sad case, indeed.

“So you were swallowing food and the quicksand was swallowing you!”

“Yes. I had to exert all my strength to push myself out of the trance! Coming out I felt extremely tired.”

“But why did you take the plate of food?”

“I think it was because the person offering me the food was the “wonderful navel lady” in my oil painting!!!”

I was having a refreshing beer with my Long Lost Cousin, when he said:

“Lately, I’m talking to myself constantly. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going nuts!”

“Is your self-talk negative or positive?”

My cousin went silent. He was lost in his thoughts.

“Mostly negative, I’m afraid.”

“Relax cousin, I’ll try to sort you out. Bartender, give us two more beers, please.”

“We all talk to ourselves, it’s our internal monologue. What we say to ourselves in response to external situations determines our moods and makes us feel good or miserable!”

“I get so up tight over daily events, I could spit nails!”

“Give me an example, cousin.”

“Well, the other day, I was giving my opinion on some subject, I can’t remember what it was, now. But the bloke I was talking to started telling me how wrong I was, etc. He was nice about it, but I got up tight. How dare he make me out as an idiot. It stopped me from expressing my opinions for a while. I would panic and get anxious and think I’m an idiot!”

“You see cousin, your self-talk reacted negatively to his criticism. It could have been interpreted as constructive criticism. You took it as destructive. It was your interpretation that was giving you anxiety.”

My cousin smiled, and said:

“I even went to a fortune teller and asked about my bad thinking habits and anxiety. She said, it will continue for a year.”

“Then what, you’ll learn to control your self-talk?”

“No, she said, after a year, I’ll just get used to it!”

“Very funny! But the fact is people who suffer from panic attacks and anxiety are prone to engage in negative self-talk.”

My cousin drained his glass of beer very quickly. I still had half a glass left.

“Bartender, give my cousin another beer.”

He stared at the refilled glass of froth and said:

“Sometimes, I feel so powerless and helpless in situations. Almost like I’m a victim of external events. It’s a disturbing feeling. I feel like life is a terrible struggle!”

“My friend, you have some very destructive beliefs. And you keep telling yourself these negative things.”

LLC took a long swig of beer.

“I feel I can’t control my life.”

“See cousin, it’s your wrong interpretation of your human condition. You have to see things differently!”

“What can I do to change my negative beliefs?”

“You need to use some affirmations that counter your mistaken ideas about things.”

“Examples, please!”

Now, I needed another beer!

“Well, lets see, counter “I feel powerless.” By “I’m responsible and in control of my life.” Counter “ I am a victim of externals”. By “Circumstances are just what they are, but I  can choose my attitude toward them.”

“I think I’m getting it now. It’s all in the interpretation and my reaction to events.”

“You’ve got it, my friend, you’ve got it!”

Then, a beautiful woman sat on the stool next to my cousin and whispered in his ear. “I’ll do anything you want for 50 bucks!”

He gave her the 50 dollars and said:

“Here…go paint my house!”

This is a follow up blog to “What’s It All About?” posted on March 21^st.

I opened my front door and there he was…

“It’s your Long Lost Cousin, again,” he proclaimed.

My cousin came “funeral marching” in, singing:

“Is that all there is? Is that all there is?

If that’s all there is, my friends,

then let’s keep dancing,

lets break out the booze and have, a ball,

if that’s all, there is!”

“You’re singing another song today?”

My LLC had a grim look on his face.

“The lyrics are scary and I’m disillusioned. Birth, a period in between, then death, is that all there is?”

“Oh cousin, you’re trying to figure out another profound question. Remember, it’s that period in between that’s important.”

“Do you ever think about disillusionment?”

“My dear LLC, of course I think about it, as I’ve said before, I’m a WRITER!”

“What is the point of striving and struggling when life is so short and death so final? I feel like I’m in a rut.”

“Relax cousin, you must try to get out of that rut because the only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth!”

LLC looked at me wide-eyed!

I continued: “As long as you’re living you want to grow. Striving is part of growth. The good life is full of positive change and growth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Change and growth are part of being human, so is living your life creatively and productively.”

LLC was rolling his eyes.

“Listen cousin, your happiness is the harmony between you and the life you lead. This harmony is achieved by doing things that contribute to society and doing things that you do best.”

“Oh, I get it, I created my own recipe for meatloaf. So now, everyone that I make it for, loves it. I’m happy, they’re happy! I’ve put the recipe on the internet, now I’ve left something for the world, my legacy! I’ve got satisfaction and meaning in my life.”

“I think you’re beginning to get the gist of this. You are also constantly experimenting with new recipes, so you are growing.”

“Oh cousin, you always make me feel better!”

“We all are on a journey, a quest, for meaning. There is creative meaning: where we give ourselves to the world, through our creative efforts, in my case, my writings, in your case, your recipes. We can also strive for positive attitudes towards situations that are out of our control, like our death!”

“If you can survive death, I guess you can probably survive anything,” my cousin was laughing out loud, now.

I smiled and said: “My wonderful LLC, I can always count on you to lighten things up.”

LLC was beaming from ear to ear.

“Finally, have you heard of the happiness and great pleasure of Disillusionment?”

“No, I haven’t. That’s a very odd phrase.”

“Well, when you asked, is that all there is, you had an illusion of some pie in the sky wonderful life. Now, the word “dis-illusion” means NOT to be deceived by illusion. You need to think about what is REAL, a rational view of things. So, disillusionment actually can be a positive motivator.”

“That makes sense to me, cousin.”

“Now, get out of here and I don’t want to see you “funeral marching” around again!”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to avoid funerals, I’m NOT A MORNING PERSON!”