Around New Year's 2018, I got to thinking about resolutions and what I could do to step up my game. What could I purge in trying to be the best man I can while still having a pleasant, healthy life? I scanned my memory for recent subpar results.

Anger!

About a week before, we had what turned out to be the final family Xmas dinner for Dad's branch of the tree. Dad, Neila, Reagan, Lisa, and I. At our peak, we'd have perhaps fifteen present. Now death, addiction, dilution, and estrangement had us down to five.

It was a nice evening. We had a 3-way canned dolma deathmatch. But, it was mildly sullied.

I briefly got angry and made a poor decision. There was no conflict, no outburst, no ugliness. Annoyed with the disregard Dad suffered after Mom died, I complained that his grandchildren acted like he was not alive after he had done much for all of them.

I'd been backing up Dad against these freaks for over 40 years and wasn't stopping anytime soon. It's in my blood.

Strike 1 Strike 2 Strike 3 Strike 4 Strikes YER OUT! 
Dad rolled craps on the grandchildren front. Grown, 3 of 4 disregarded him after Mom was gone. One he put through college and enabled her great success, another was completely supported by Dad for far too much of his life, another was so Flozberked-out that he withdrew from the swamp altogether and got his challenging life in order. That one is understandable.

The fourth, one Princess Corn Log, would soon unleash latest version of The Istanbul Bunch's Hatchet Job Machine on me, his only child, without bothering to even talk to Dad about things,  Plus, there's that corn logging.

I was completely right and, if anything, went easy on the offenders.

But, it was Xmas dinner. At the table. The parents of at least two current and/or future offenders sat across from me. It surely was one of Dad's last Xmases, if not the last (thankfully, it wasn't and we had a super time a year later).

There was nothing good about that. It dampened the mood for a while and compromised a special day that stood exceptional among many in a declining family. Soon, the conversation moved elsewhere and all was cool enough, but the next day, the more I thought about it, the more I detested the result.

Fingering Anger Always Beats Angry Fingering
So, in the New Year, upon fingering anger as the culprit for the Xmas failure, I considered things and realized there was not a single instance in which anger had served me well. Neutral at best, awful at worst.

So, I resolved to purge it. Would it be possible?

YES!

About to start year 6 of this journey, I've failed 3 times, one of which was while ending a one month dance with prescribed narcotics after a robust round of medical torture.

Life without anger is so nice and dignified. Few things can trip up one's dignity like anger. The outbursts of anger I saw from Mom, John, and Neila greatly diminished them. Mine, heavily concentrated in the 20th century, remain among my worst memories and compromised outcomes time and time again.

Fuck anger. It has no use other than to devalue and destroy.

I've been effective across the board. Before, being stuck behind a slow, bad driver would drive me nuts. Now I just chill and enjoy the kick-ass song I surely have blasting. Big things, little things, whatever - there's always a better choice than to get angry.

Pressure Release 
Combined with my 2018 "straight edge" experiment, inspired by Tommy Giles from Between the Buried and Me and multiplied by security concerns due to the conflict with The Flozberks, I was able to greatly lower my baseline stress. No alcohol. No caffeine. No bong hits. No drugs. And, after months, no sugar, which was, by far, the hardest.

No breaking the law at all, not on the road, not at home. All contraband disposed of or passed on to new homes.

No anger + the dropping of the vigilance required of an astute outlaw made a huge difference in 2018 as the conflict and resulting hatchet-jobbing from The Flozberks ran me into the ground while I was unknowingly very sick. Minus slashing baseline stress, the outcome might have been very bad. I very literally felt myself dying then.

While we've backed off the straight edge thing to a happy, rational medium, my household remains anger-free and the results have far exceeded my fondest wishes. 2023 will mark year six of this wonderful journey.

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