The Afterthought

I've been in a darker mood of late.   And, because this is the 20th year of my blog, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.  You'd cry too if I happened to you.

So, that's my clever way of saying today's entry is a little bit of a pity party.  If you're not interested, come back tomorrow for a movie review or a political tirade or a rogue's gallery of stupid people.

Maybe this little phase of life noir is coming because all my friends are of an older age and becoming increasingly conscious that we're closer to the end than to the beginning.  Maybe it's my own quirkiness.   I prefer to think that there's plenty of good times ahead.   Hell, why else did I get two knee replacements along with a brand new hip?

I consider myself a good and true friend to others.   Well, I try to be.  It's the way I've always had to be since I was five or six.  I was the person like that old Avis rental car ad.   I had to try harder.   You see, I'm an only child devoid of siblings.  And single.

Don't get me wrong.   I have plenty of friends who I consider brothers and sisters.  And, upon reflection, I've had to work a little harder to get that roster of pals.  And while I haven't had the social life of somebody like George Clooney, I have dated.   I have loved.  I even once proposed.   

As a result of this status in life as an only and the perennial odd person in the group, I have always felt compelled to be the ring leader.   I'm the one who wants to gather the troops.   Concerts, movies, plays, dinners.   You name it.   I'm the one always being the architect of the plan.  

When we had to stop the world for everybody's favorite pandemic, I added yet another chore to my friendship job responsibilities.  I call to check up my friends all over the country.   Even some I have been out of touch with for some time.   Are you okay?  Are you safe?  How's the family?  Is there anything I can help with?  Any looting nearby?  You know the drill.

Back in 2020 and now in 2026, I have this unfortunate reminder of being the human afterthought.  I rarely get the same courtesy.

But, as I frequently need to remind myself, why should I expect anything more than the usual?  You see, years ago, I set up the ground rules.   I have only myself to blame.

For my whole life, I'm the one always asking the ask.   Arranging the time.  Choosing the restaurant for the evening.   Always the planner.  Never ever the plannee.  If I had not taken on this role, would I ever be going anywhere?   Or am I doomed to be a professional odd person out?   

Few people call me and invite me to an event.   Or a party.  Or lunch.   Or a weekend excursion.  Or a vacation.  Or anything for that matter.  I can't remember the last time somebody else planned something spontaneously and actually took the time to reel me in for it.  

So, the question is simple.  If I stop being a ring leader, what will happen?  It's an experiment I want to try but I am afraid of the results.  I think I know what would occur.   

Silence.

If I ever question the quiet, I get this response.

"Well, we assumed you had plans."

Hmmm.  Yes, I am the third person.  Or the fifth person.  Or the seventh person.  But I certainly get to watch everybody else's frivolities via social media.   Because I have to be sure of adding my "like."  I actually was once quizzed by somebody as to why I didn't Facebook-acknowledge their evening out.

Okay, I'm whining now and need to remember that I do have some great people in my life.  But there are those moments where I wonder if I am considered in the reciprocal vein.

Once again, I have brought this on myself.   I am angry with....well...me.  And a little bit at my parents who created this personality that allows to position himself as invisible and a tad inconsequential.    

As lives get shorter, I'm going to concentrate on spending times with friends and people that I truly love.   Trust me, there are less of them around.  For now, I'm going to let those people come to me if they'd like to see me.   Maybe they will.  Or more likely, I'll be on this computer posting this month's mug shots.

Dinner last night:   Grilled steak salad.