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!”

Knock, knock!

“Who’s there?”

“It’s your Long Lost Cousin!”

My cousin came waltzing into my house singing:

“What’s it all about, Alfie? Is it just, for the moment, we live?”

“Hey cousin, what’s with the singing?”

My LLC had a big grin on his face.

“I like the lyrics and I’m trying to figure out, “What’s It All About?”

“Oh cousin, you mean you’re trying to figure out the greatest puzzle of all time? What Is The Meaning Of Life!”

“Yes, I am. I mean you and I are getting on, don’t you think about it?”

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

My cousin had a confused look on his face.

“I don’t understand life, at times it’s so hard and then you’re reincarnated!”

“Ha, ha, I think you’re joking now.”

“No, I’d like to live forever!”

“Well, my friend, you can!”

My LLC looked amazed at my statement.

“You’re not talking about red wine and Manuka honey, are you?”

“No, but they will take you a long way down the road.”

“Give it to me straight, cousin.”

“Well, you will never really die because every person you meet and in my case, everyone that reads my writings, is affected by us in some way!”

“What do you mean?’

“The people we meet carry that effect on to everyone they meet. So, our ideas and values will last forever to some degree!”

“Wow cousin, I never thought about it like that. So, we are being remembered forever!”

“You’ve got it, cousin!”

“What about the “meaning” then?”

“Well, you and I are responsible for creating our own meaning and purpose in our lives. It’s a very personal thing.”

“Oh, I get it! What I do with my life is my responsibility and it has meaning and purpose to me.”

“Yes cousin, we are mortal and we are trapped in the present moment. So we have to make our present meaningful and purposeful. I other words, Carpe Diem, seize the day!”

“Oh cousin, I love it when you talk like that!”

“It’s the truth, my friend.”

“So, my ideas and values will be remembered and passed on. So, I don’t have to physically live forever even if it was possible.”

“That’s right, cousin.”

“That’s great news because if I had to live my life over again, I don’t think I’d have the STRENGTH!”

It was a dark and stormy night and I was a writer lost in a strange city! I had also, lost my inspiration. My writing wasn’t selling. All of a sudden a building came out of the gloom. It was completely lit up. Every window had light. It was like a welcoming beacon. The door was open, I walked in, and it slammed behind me. Every wall was lined with bookshelves with ladders zigzagging up to the ceiling, which must have been at least 50 feet high!

There was not a person in sight. I was alone with all those books!

Then, I heard voices, they seemed to come from the books!

All the greats were there: Hemingway, Twain, Fitzgerald, Woofe, Maughan, Sheldon, Shakespeare and many, many others. Their voices were all around me.

“How are you?’ A deep voice said.

“I feel like Hell, can you show me Heaven?’ I said.

“In Hell, writers are chained to their desks and whipped.”

“And in Heaven?”

“In Heaven, writers are chained to their desks and whipped.”

“Hell and Heaven are the same!”

“No, my friend, they’re not,” said an unseen voice. “In Heaven your work gets published!”

“I don’t write so good,” I said.

The voice continued: “If you can tell stories, create characters and devise conflict and have passion, it doesn’t matter how you write.”

“I find it hard to play God in my stories!”

“My friend, a blank piece of paper is the way of telling us how hard it is to be God.”

“I’ve lost my concentration, I can’t focus!”

“Your words are your lens to focus your mind,” said a woman’s voice.

“I’m not sure what people want to hear from me.”

“Don’t try to figure that out, just think about what you have to say. It’s all you have to offer.”

“My stories don’t seem to come alive.”

A voice from the very top shelf said: “The unread story is not yet alive. The reader, reading it, makes it live!”

I shook my head, my eyes were blurring. The books seemed to be dancing!

“But, I write such hopeless stories.”

“There’s no point in doing that, we all know we are going to die: what’s of prime concern to you is the kind of man you are in the face of this.”

I was trying to soak up all this knowledge that was being bantered about the walls of books!

“I struggle to find ideas.”

“My writer friend, everybody walks past hundreds of story ideas everyday. The writers are the ones who see two or three of them. Most people don’t see any.”

“I wonder, some times, if I have anything of interest inside of me?”

Many voices in unison said: “Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, all his qualities of mind are written in his stories.”

“Some times I feel so drained after a long writing session.”

“Three or four hours of fiction writing can leave you drained. Because, for that period of time you have been in a different place with different people!”

“I want to write stories the whole world will read, stories that people will react emotionally to, stories that will make them happy, stories that will make them scream and cry in pain and anger!”

“You will, my son, you will!” The voices started to fade away.

I walked out the door singing: “ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE!”

“ I feel very protective toward my Long Lost Cousin. We lost contact for 50 years and then we got connected again. We are only 11 years apart but I feel like a father to him. When we first met, I was 21 and he was 10. So I first knew him as a boy. But now, when he has a problem, and he has quite a few, he comes to me for sorting out.

One day he came to me with the problem of the moment.

“Cousin, I feel like my thoughts are all jumbled up in my head. I need clarity!”

“On what issues are you looking for clarity?” I said, sympathetically.

He thought for a moment.

“I’m not really sure!”

I shook my head.

“What have you been doing to alleviate this stress?”

“I find popping plastic bubble wrap very helpful!”

There was a problem here!

“Cousin, I like to do things that I want to do, and I like to get things I want. But people tell me it is bad and wrong to be selfish! I’m confused.”

“My dear LLC, no one knows your needs and wants better than you and you have a great interest in seeing them fulfilled. Your happiness is up to you. Be selfish!”

“That’s a load off my mind,” said my cousin, smiling.

“Anything else jumbled up?”

“I interrupted some one the other day and they said they disapproved of me. This bothered me.”

“This remark shouldn’t bother you. You can’t please everyone, and don’t give yourself chronic anxiety by trying. Just because of one specific fault, don’t put down your whole being.”

“Thanks for that, cousin, I feel better already.”

Did I sort him out for today?

“One more thing, I got angry yesterday defending one of my opinions and I felt bad about it.”

“Your anger was an honest communication of your feelings, it was not an attack on anyone.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, cousin.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Too bad we lost 50 years!”

I thought I was finished for the day, when…

“One more thing, cousin, sometimes I think there are people under my bed!”

As I walked him to the door, I said:

“Well, go home and cut the legs off of your bed!”

The three of us walked into this huge room with three mini kitchens. Myself, my Long Lost Cousin, and a mystery contestant, neither my cousin nor I knew this mystery man! He had disheveled hair, deep frown lines and crows feet, a sort of facial nightmare!

We all had our own mini kitchen with high dividers so we couldn’t see each other cooking.

The panel of judges were seated at a long table in front of us. They could see what all of us were doing and we could hear their comments!

We all had our own special meatloaf recipes that had a few ingredients that made them special!

At the start we all had to tell a cooking or food joke.

I was number one and my joke was:

“The two things I cook best are meatloaf and cherry pie.”

My wife said: “Which is this?”

Giggles all around!

My LLC was number two, he said:

“I was picking through the turkeys at the supermart.

I couldn’t find a large one.”

I asked an assistant, “Do these turkeys get any bigger?”

She answered: “No, they don’t, they’re dead!”

Loud laughter from the judges!

The mystery man was number three, he said:

“What’s this on my plate? In case I have to describe it to the doctor!”

Silence!

We had a half hour to prepare our meatloaf mixtures and one hour to cook it.

One of the judges said:

“Look at number one, he’s mixing his mixture with a large wooden spoon.”

Another said: “Look at number two, he’s mixing with his hands in rubber gloves!”

The third judge said:

“Number three is using a heavy-duty mixer!”

“Well, at least, they’re all different.”

My LLC  said: “I use rubber gloves because I have a phobia about feeling squishy things.”

Laughter from everybody!

The judge said: “Son, you need a therapist!”

When the time was up, we served our dishes for the judges to taste.

The judge asked me: “What ingredients make your meatloaf different?”

“Lots of garlic and Worcestershire sauce!”

Number two said: “I use turkey and sliced mushrooms and jalapeno chopped.”

Number three said: “Lots of black pepper and sour cream.”

All dishes tasted, the judges award went to my LLC, who was beaming from ear to ear!

“Your prize is a pair of monogramed rubber gloves!”

I gave my cousin a big hug.

The mystery contestant walked off in a huff!

Someone said he was a chef of some notoriety!