Here I am, the artist formerly known as Hospital Boy, organizing my unmentionables while I catalogue my baseball card collection and drink wine (Note to the brothers: 1-2 glasses and not the whole bottle; & not to worry, I'll be there for the Superbowl!).
I've already acknowledged my current habitat as being Hadley, the strip of Route 9 and surrounding farm land that lay betwixt Noho & UMass. Oh, how I so enjoyed life here back in the 80s when I was struggling academically but living a very social existence. Am also compiling my "2do" list of, well, "shit-2-do." I mean, clearly the health insurance company, mandated into existence by Mitt Romulan, i.e., when he was, like, gubernatorial hereabouts, has no interest in expediting my disability claim, so one of my items on the "2do" (or is it by now "23 skiddoo!"?) list is "get a freakin' job!"
I was two weeks short of the magic 15-hundred hours for the temp agency employing me at a defense contractor in Cambridge when I was admitted to the ICU in Keene. Of course, I lost my job and the bonus week's pay the 1500 represented.
So tomorrow is Friday, and getting a freakin' job is fairly generic. First order of bidnezz is to go to Cooley Dick (the hospital) to get my Coumadin level checked. Then I'll head over to the local radio station to see if they need a reporter (the same station I worked for back in the late 80s), call the temp agency's Springfield office, then make appointments with other temp agencies, crank out some copywriting for my buddy, who's letting me house-sit for him as well, work a few personal services for an hourly, e.g., water the plants, chop some wood.
I could go into Boston to schlep some luggage for the courier service that's always interested in throwing work my way. Am gonna need to go over my bills and finances at some point too; call the health insurance company to update my address change and ask 'em, vis a vis my disability claim: WTF??
Ah, yes, the baseball card collection; I just bought the 2007 Beckett Official Price Guide and found out my '71 Hank Aaron is worth $60 alone. Am very curious as to what my '68 Nolan Ryan rookie card is worth today as well. Back in '88 it was worth $1,500. Ok, those are "mint" prices, but whatever scratch I can generate upon sale will be welcome.
My comic books are up to $7K now. Gotta sell one collection or the other, if not both, but not before I get a gist on the cards, eh?
Better get some sleep.
Update: Ok, the '68 Nolan Ryan/Jerry Koosman rookie card, Card No. 177, is priced at $500 in the Beckett Guide -- not $1,500 and not more than. And as I recall now, that price tag I saw was in a card dealer's shop under a showcase glass. Let it be a lesson, those dudes are in to make a profit.