Category: Aging

Argus

So, last night Argus visited me during sleep. He never closes his eyes, looking into the future and remembering the past. Both for me seem pretty scary.

I have never gained control over the remnants of my past trauma or regained any sense I had control over the smashup that stole my career and adulthood. Even my understanding wife has had a tough time living with it. So it goes.

The future remains dim, too, now that I face a multitude of physical problems: blood, skin and spine being the most pressing. But I forage on, trying as I might try to live in the present, always valueing what I have, rather than what I lost which will never again be within my reach. No more dreams or long range plans.

Florida is the kind of place where many leave behind their real lives.

 

We remain positive that the booster will provide me with some protection from Covid 19 or whatever it’s called. Cannot understand why someone wouldn’t be vaccinated or wear a mask. I know how close my immunochallenged system could be to death if I get sick. So, shoot up and wear a mask.

Woman ahead of us in line at Publix was also immunocompromised. She had tears in her eyes. One person showed up for his first dose, pulled in by his mother. He wasn’t wearing a mask. Maskless woman called me a Douche, as she coughed while picking up a prescription. She said she would never put anything in her arm and would not wear a mask, because she wanted to breathe. Guy waiting for a booster sitting next to us said that unvaccinated should die in the parking lot.

My advice – vaccine, mask, and social distance.

Sharon Duckman, 72

When people ask how long we have been married, I always say, “not long enough.” Without her, I would be a homeless person. Ageless. I cannot live without her, adoring even the difficult moments.

When I was suspended from the bench, preceding my removal and the end of my judicial career, I tried to go back to work after spending 7 months with her, full time. People asked how I felt, not really caring, but out of politeness. I said, “…, frankly I miss the time I got to spend with my wife.”

We moved and stayed together. We have moved a few more times and stayed together. Now we have sickness and injury. We live in a place we don’t like and doesn’t like us, and we are still together.

Lorin Duckman, 74 Years Old

Celebrating a birthday, especially one in the 7os, brings reflections on the past and projections about the future. The good news: my blood, medicated as it is, tests perfect. The bad news: my blood, medicated as it is, has rejected the Moderna Covid vaccine. So, a very happy day, followed by a depressing Doctor visit. Such is life.

I don’t have much of a voice anymore, my career and reputation having been wrecked in 1998. I try to do acts of kindness, everyday which is not always easy. You should too.

Dick Allen, Dead

Dick Allen deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. Baseball deserves to be in the hall of shame. How did Corona virus stop a virtual vote?
When I attended Penn, I saw him play many times. Gave the usher a dollar and he let me sit in a box on first base side. No one went to games. A few times I think he smiled over at me. I cheered when he hit, caught and just stood around fixing the dirt.

Alan Mark Ulick, Died Yesterday


My cousin, Alan Ulick, the son of my Father’s sister Gert died in his home yesterday. His marital partner of 25 or so years, Harry Small, was at his bedside. I think he was 83. Very Sad.

On the wall in my gallery hangs a picture of his Mother and my Father when they were kids. I had a second image and decided to look him up and give it to him, along with a picture of our Grandmother, Hannah Duckman, after whom my Brother, Henry Hannah, and his Daughter, Hannah are named. This image was made in 1921.

Other than a brief meeting, a few minutes or less, in 1954, when he was a teenager and I was a kid, we had never seen or spoken to one another. This past winter, Google found him living nearby in Hollywood FL.

I called. We spoke. Alan and Harry came to our home for lunch. I learned about him. He learned about me from the internet (no time to explain), plus I told him the little family history there is of the remaining Duckman family.

I gave him the pictures, an outdated family genealogical history done by cousins Jerry Winter and Herb Sumliner (in which he is named) and shot this image, along with a few others. We hugged and they left.

We agreed we would get together again, but his illness and treatments prevented it. I would have liked knowing him better.