It’s Not Delivery. It’s DiGiornio


So I was just setting, waiting for the results of my biopsy and eating some left over pizza.  Boy, that delivery man was SOO tall!  Oh, no.  Wait up a sec.  It’s not delivery.  It’s DiGiornio.  Anyway, I was going over the autopsy results on the recently discovered Kraken.  I am great at multi-tasking.  When we captured him he was still alive, but we “accidentally” killed him. So we decided to do an autopsy for the sake of Science and all else that is good and holy.  We, so far, have found out he was a male, very lonely, and did not eat ships.  And it set me to thinking.

We use people.  Everyone does.  I am sure you do not admit it to yourself.  I do.  But I feel I have always “used” people, and I was known as a master, to prove something to myself.  I think most people use people to prove something about themselves to others.  Like, “See? I am desirable.”  Or, “See, I am attractive.”  I always came up with, “Yeah, I can do that too.”  Something I had to remind myself of repeatedly it seems.  Especially after all those misbegotten breeding experiences.  (See what I did there?)  But it was never, “she can have three little boys and I can’t”.  It was always, “I am going to be successful at this damnit, or die trying.” Of course it all set  a lot of huge, nasty, rusty, menacing wheels in motion, but that was other people trying to prove stuff, not to themselves, but others.  Of this I feel very sure.  But.  I may be wrong.  I have been. I may be wrong about who was trying to prove something to whom and why.  Although I am pretty sure I have a handle on that one. I may even be wrong about it yet today.

I have a close relative who, due to a wondrous genetic legacy, is extremely smart and very beautiful.  Also cute.  And she is blessed with the kind of metabolism that runs like a mother so she is easily able to maintain her tiny, well-proportioned physique throughout the rigors of her very busy life. (Well, Boot Camp is not so easy.  I’ll grant her that.)  She has a wonderful life.  Actually a beautiful life, a handsome hard-working, somewhat self-deluded husband, two amazing intelligent and beautiful children (kinda bratty, tho) and a huge gorgeous house with an actual swimming pool that is not a plastic and metal over-sized water dish set on the ground.  Of course this is all off set by the fact that she has a high stress job that takes a lot out of her.  But we do have to help The Higher Power keep the old yin and yang in balance.

The thing is, this girl seems to have everything going for her.  But she “wants”.  She is not sure what, but she knows something is missing.  God in his heaven only knows how she got the idea things had to be completely perfect.  But I think maybe it is human nature to “want”.  It might be kind of like “hope”.  You just can’t keep going without it.

But along comes a situation where she is being “used”.  It is actually not harming her or her family, since it is a long-distance mostly imaginary thing for the users.  (There are two of them.)  There are people that come up short in so many departments that they have to invent scenarios which contain people and things to “blame’ and to compare themselves and each other to.  My relative got into this mess completely innocently.  It was actually totally my fault, but I too was acting innocently and somewhat altruistically. (Or so I tell myself.)  It was a kind of on going drama that was a mere distraction for my relative.  Sort of like a soap opera that you tuned into every now and then.  But then the whole thing blew up like Krakatoa and it became instantly apparent what my relative was being used for.  People who could not take responsibility for their own misdeeds, mistakes, errors, misjudgements, suddenly needed a place to focus all that negative energy and this relative was a convenient and very carefully set up target.  She was “thrown to the wolves”, “thrown under the bus,” — whatever.  Fortunately she has enough going on that she is very generously able to understand and forgive these people who have such troubles they are blinded to what the troubles really are and why they have them.

It just leads me to wonder, are these characters using her and others with deliberation because that is their modus operandi, or is it completely innocent, that they are so sad and lonely and troubled that they unconsciously seek a focus to ease their pain, their guilt, their unhappiness.  I will never know.  No one could offer me any explanation at this point that I would be able to accept since their credibility, if it ever existed, has taken a hike. 


In other news:   I am going to try to incorporate my Clueless blog into this one since it is not publicly linked and it is messing up my stats.  Plus, it is great, pithy stuff no one should miss.  Just ask Jonathon Wilhoit, the well-know book reviewer. Also, the FINE WHINE title should be getting a lot more blog hits since a “blogger-columnist” of questionable integrity and intelligence who shall remain unnamed but whose initials are JK has stolen my words as a sub-heading for the self-centered posturing and moaning about her life that passes off to readers of The Chicago Tribune as reality.  Talk about trying to find a focus for blame.  But that is another story. One I am uninterested in telling.  She does a great job on that all by herself.

I am happy to announce that the majority of my blog hits now come from the google search for  I think it is important.  Don’t tell me the truth.

Attribution for adorable illustration: “Kraken; the Early Years”


3 thoughts on “It’s Not Delivery. It’s DiGiornio

  1. Pingback: It’s Not Delivery. It’s DiGiornio | finewhine

  2. Waldo "Wally" Tomosky

    Hi there everyone – – – you also Virginia. It seems as though “using” is a relevant term; even though I hate with a passion relevancy and trite phrases (so I am a hypocrite all in one sentence; so sue me). Sometimes we humans need to contact other humans. That is why so-called space aliens come to visit us from time to time. They need human contact also and it appears that they use us from time to time (with their poking and prodding and looking into our most private areas – – – both physical and emotional). So prod away dear aliens; we also need some human contact even if it is from nebulous nebulei. You are close enough to listen to my laments and that will do quite nicely. May the farce be with you.
    Signed: A. Humanoid.


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