A Certain Point of View: Writing, Film and Stuff

I can't remember if this was a Thanksgiving photo or not. But this was probably taken in 1986, judging by my beard and the deerskin rug on the living room floor.    I can’t remember the last happy Thanksgiving that I experienced in Miami before my mother died in July of 2015.   As Thanksgiving 2020 lurches its way to my current abode in New Hometown, Florida like a dreadful creature from a 1930s horror film (complete with artificial fog generated by dry ice), I sit in my now claustrophobic bedroom/study and try to recall a holiday season that wasn’t in some way dampened by discord or drama. And even taking into account the passage of time, the unreliability of memory, and my own biases, I can’t remember any truly happy Thanksgivings where my half-sister Vicky was present. Oh, sure. I can recall those recurrences of the holiday that were peaceful and even joyful because Vicky was absent. Thanksgivings at home with Mom and – on occasion – friends and family members who happened t

My older half-sister Victoria sometime in 2014.  Good afternoon, Dear Reader. It’s late afternoon on this Monday, July 20, 2020. As I type this, the temperature outside is 90 ˚ F under mostly cloudy skies. With humidity at 63% and a 7 mph breeze blowing from the east, the feels-like temperature is 101 ˚ F. As much as I’d love to go out for even a brief walk like I used to when I had a home in Miami, I don’t think I could stand that sort of hot mugginess. Anyway, yesterday marked the fifth anniversary of Mom’s death. I have been trying my best to not dwell on things, or to wonder what would have happened if things had somehow been right between my half-sister Victoria and me. I long ago came to accept that my mother’s quality-of-life was almost non-existent during her last two years –   especially the last six months – of her 86 years on Earth and that her passing was a release from the physical and emotional hell she was enduring. I’ve also come to grips with the reality th

Illustration by Erik_Erik via Pixabay Hello, everyone, and welcome to another edition of Bloggin' On, the blog-within-a-blog section of A Certain Point of View that by design is not devoted to politics or reviews. It's Monday, March 9, 2020, and it's already mid-morning in my corner of Florida. Outside, the temperature in my area is 68℉ (20℃) under mostly cloudy skies. The forecast calls for a high of 76℉ (24℃) and a low of 59℉ (15℃) is expected for tonight.  I'm really tired today. I had a rare but enervating bout of insomnia last night: I was a bit drowsy around 10 or so. but the drowsiness vanished sometime around 11 PM. I watched eight episodes of Star Wars: Resistance back-to-back, thus finishing the second and final season of that Sequel Trilogy era animated series from Lucasfilm Animation. I also read a chapter and a half of Richard B. Frank's Tower of Skulls: A History of the Asia-Pacific War - July 1937-May 1942 in an effort to get s

Hello, Dear Reader. It's Monday, March 2, 2020, and it's late morning here in my corner of Florida. Currently, the temperature outside is 73℉ (23℃) under partly sunny skies; per the forecast for the day, the high is expected to reach 76℉ (26℃), while the low for tonight will be 59℉ (15℃). Well, in three days I will be 57 years old. I have mixed feelings about this; on the one hand, I am glad to be alive and thrilled that Ronnie and the Pursuit of the Elusive Bliss , the short film I wrote last year for my friend Juan Carlos Hernandez, turned out as well as it did. So far, in the three weeks since Juan posted it on YouTube, Ronnie has been watched 1,216 times (as of this writing). It has also gotten its first official review ; Blogger/reviewer Denise Longrie says Ronnie and the Pursuit of the Elusive Bliss is an "amusing and enjoyable short." A still image from Ronnie and the Pursuit of the Elusive Bliss.  She goes on to describe the dynamic of the family

“Hate is the complement of fear and narcissists like being feared. It imbues them with an intoxicating sensation of omnipotence.”   ―  Sam Vaknin ,  Malignant Self Love: Narcissism Revisited People - mainly those individuals who are blissfully unaware of my family history - often ask me, "Why can't you get along with your sister? She's your closest relative now that your mom is gone, and she's so nice/generous/loving. Can't you try and be her friend?" While it is true that my half-sister is my closest family member and, as far as I know, my only living relative in the United States, I have to say that as much as I'd like to be Vicky's friend, I can't. She is a seriously disturbed narcissist who has done me (and our mother) much more emotional harm than she had done good. She (and her small retinue of vocal supporters) will deny it, of course. Like many narcissists, Vicky has an uncanny talent for cleverly projecting a self-image of being an a

Hi there, Constant Reader. It’s 4:21 p.m. on a chilly Monday afternoon in the Sunshine State. As I write this, it’s 66 degrees Fahrenheit under partly sunny skies. Though it’s not as cold as it was earlier today, the temperature is low enough for it to be a hot-chocolate-with-warm donuts day, at least for me! I’ve lived in (or visited) several cities (Bogota, New York City, and Seville) where it gets awfully cold, and chilly weather tends to make me want to bundle up in bed with a good book. I was going to write a movie review earlier today, but my eyeglasses broke; I’m nearsighted, and although I can see most of what’s on the big television screen, my eyes get awfully tired without my glasses. Worse, if I want to read the “news ticker” at the bottom of the screen when perusing CNN or the local news channels, I have to mosey up close to the TV to see the lettering. My spectacles are irreparably damaged and I need new ones, so my mission of the day has been to try and call Visionwo

Toxic relationships are dangerous to your health; they will literally kill you.   – Bryant McGill It’s a nice early January day in the Sunshine State. As I write this, it’s 81 degrees Fahrenheit under sunny skies. The house is quiet and peaceful – so much so that I’m thinking of playing some music…as soon as I decide what style of music I feel like listening to. Maybe I’ll grab a Frank Sinatra CD, or maybe I’ll listen to some classical music. Something calm and peaceful; I’m not in the mood for anything “bombastic” or “operatic” a la John Williams today. As I sit in my quiet (for the moment, anyway) study, I’m trying to figure out why I can’t have a solid and loving relationship with my older half-sister Victoria. After all, she is my closest living relative, and we were supposed to get along a bit better after Mom’s death a year and a half ago. Was our estrangement inevitable, or should I have kept trying to close the breach that has existed between us for nearly 30 y

Family portrait, circa 1986.  I am happy without toxic people in my life, Part II “Toxic people attach themselves like cinder blocks tied to your ankles, and then invite you for a swim in their poisoned waters.”  ― John Mark Green It’s been nearly six months since I last saw my toxic half-sister, Victoria Pineros, as she made a hilariously melodramatic exit from the waiting area outside Judge Bernard Shapiro’s chambers in a Miami-Dade County courthouse building. I watched her turn her back to me and stalk off, trailed by her attorney and a retinue of supporters that included her cousin Juan Manuel and his wife Barbara. I suppose I should have felt some regret, some sense of loss at the thought that we were parting not as friendly siblings who had lost a parent but as bitter enemies. I also suspect that she sees herself as the aggrieved party who was “robbed” of her rightful inheritance by her selfish, scheming younger half-brother. And I have no doubt, no doubt a

“There’s folks you just don’t need. You’re better off without ‘em. Your life is just a little better because they ain’t in it.” ― William Gay Well, here we are on January 3, 2017, nearly 72 hours into the New Year. I can’t say that I’m unhappy that 2016 is over; last year had its good days, of course, but overall it sucked. The Presidential election here in the States was one of the weirdest and least satisfactory in the nation’s history, lots of beloved celebrities died, and Islamic terrorist attacks here and elsewhere widened the chasm between the West and the Muslim world. On a personal level, 2016 was one of the toughest years I’ve ever lived through. It was the first year since Mom’s death and, of course, it marked my first year as a homeowner. I was used to running my household way before Mom passed away; she handed me the reins, so to speak, when she became seriously ill in 2010, so I was used to making decisions and paying bills on time already. It was a tough and some