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Conversations With a Mad Man

Conversations With a Mad Man



|Views: 356 |Likes:
Published by Thaddeus DeLuca
I've just spent four days trying to get my best friend admitted to a psychiatric hospitalbut--No Dice. He is off his meds and the coin called genius got flipped to insanity. I don't know how, it just happened.
I've just spent four days trying to get my best friend admitted to a psychiatric hospitalbut--No Dice. He is off his meds and the coin called genius got flipped to insanity. I don't know how, it just happened.

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Published by: Thaddeus DeLuca on Sep 04, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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DeLuca/ Conversations with a Mad Man
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Conversations with a Mad ManBy Thaddeus DeLuca(A short story based on real events)I had a Musician¶s Union project gig on Saturday night, 5:30-7:30 PM at a nursinghome; we played outside. There was a tent set up with tables of stainless steel foodtrays that had little cans of Sterno underneath; a small blue flame kept burning beneatheach tray. For once in my life I actually showed up a half hour early; to unpack mystation wagon full of gear, and get set up. A Celtic duo was singing Irish songs; thesinger/guitar player wore the full regalia of a true Scotsman; a green tam on his head,he wore a green sweater with a coat of arms embroidered above his left nipple, and a plaid kilt with a fur Sporran hanging above his crotch. His green hose went almost upto his knees; there were golden flashes that held his stockings up, and he wore black leather Pipers on his feet²Dress Ghillie Brogues. His partner played a primitivetambourine and occasionally eked out a tune on a small lute. The only thing missingwere the bag pipes. They even played ³Danny Boy,´ (Begorrah!) there wasn¶t a dryeye in the house when it was over. I couldn¶t wait for their portion of the event to getover with, so I could play my gig and get the hell out of there. I promised to visit a
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friend of mine in Lowell, Massachusetts that was having mental problems; I couldhear him deteriorating over the course of three months of ten minute phoneconversations. I knew in my heart of hearts that my best friend was in deep, deeptrouble and was drowning in a lake of fire known as bi-polar depression. His namewas really Anthony, but I called him Tony; I knew him from kindergarten and he wasthe Best Man at my wedding in 1990.Just a little background information on Tony: he is a certified genius with an IQ of 190, he skipped 5
grade in elementary school and was still at the top of his class; healso did four years of high school in three. College was a breeze and he did hisgraduate work in computers at Oregon State, in Eugene. He was a whiz at science andmath; he worked at MIT in Cambridge, with the man who invented X Windows²amachine language; he could stay locked in room with no windows and program allday and night and be still be happy as a clam. Before that he worked for the DOD(Dept. of Defense) on the guidance system for the Trident Nuclear Missiles that sit insilos around the Midwest and are ready to roll in nuclear submarines²Boomersthey¶re called. He also worked on an over the horizon radar system for the Aegis classwarship that can spot a bogie before it can even be seen on a conventional radar screen; a missile could be on its way with the touch of a button after the Captain gavethe order, and the enemy vessel would be blown out of the water without ever knowing a hostile vessel was in the area. Tony worked at both Silicon Valley west
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near San Jose for Hewlett Packard, and Silicon Valley east on 128; companies likeMitre, Raytheon, and other high tech companies devoted to the NSA; developing newweapons and surveillance satellites that could read your wrist watch from a computer synchronized orbit. Eventually he went back to work for MIT at Draper Labs²a topsecret clearance facility that compartmentalized everyone¶s job to avoid espionage.Tony figured it all by himself that they were working on the guidance system for drones that could be flown with a joy stick from an X Box in a room on an Army basein the USA. These were the very same drones that the military uses to deliver a cruisemissile on time, and hand guided to its exact target²they are now being used in thewar in Afghanistan. I really like Tony and always thought of him as my brother;although I consider myself a fairly decent chess player with plenty of game²Tonycould casually beat me while reading the Sunday New York Times magazine; un-fucking believable. The only problem was that he was bi-polar and also had severedepression. I promised him a visit over the telephone; he sounded desperately lonelyand I could tell if I didn¶t get there soon it might be too late to even try to save him² his mother suffered from the same bi-polar depression and committed suicide at age42 by downing a month¶s worth of Valium all in one chug. Sad but true. I wasn¶tabout to let my friend go swirling down the toilet without a fight.My gig was sweet, I played my G&L electric bass; reading a book of old jazzstandards arranged by Johnny Warrington²they were a little square but with talent to

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Veil Veilradio added this note
Im sorry thad, i couldnt get past page 15, youre that much of a wanker.
Veil Veilradio added this note
thad- you come across as a tryhard. Try a little self bause to endear yourself to the reader. Once i put aside your character flaws (which are unforgiveable in 1st person narrative of course) the tale catches my interest. 190 iq genius on the loose. what next?
natasha_tracy added this note
I'm sorry you had to go through that. But it's true, no one can help someone if that someone doesn't want help.
nothinnbutnets liked this
Thaddeus DeLuca liked this
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