{"id":505,"date":"2025-09-28T19:23:40","date_gmt":"2025-09-28T16:23:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dirtyoldman.blog\/?p=505"},"modified":"2025-10-15T15:00:56","modified_gmt":"2025-10-15T12:00:56","slug":"how-i-became-a-dirty-old-man-like-bukowski","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dirtyoldman.blog\/fi\/how-i-became-a-dirty-old-man-like-bukowski\/","title":{"rendered":"How I Became a Dirty Old Man (like Bukowski)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Chapter One: The Note on the Fridge<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Every memoir starts with a tragedy. Some start with war, some with famine, some with fathers who were too drunk to remember their children\u2019s birthdays. Mine started with a Post-it note stuck on the fridge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m leaving.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s all it said. Two words. My wife, partner of twenty years, the woman who knew how I liked my eggs and how I hated her mother, erased half a lifetime with one lazy pen stroke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stared at it for what must have been an hour, though it could\u2019ve been three minutes. Time does strange things when your marriage detonates in front of your eyes. Then I did what any self-respecting man would do: I cracked open a beer and considered whether the note was a joke. But she wasn\u2019t the joking type. In fact, in twenty years, the only time she laughed was when the dog farted during Easter brunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So no, she was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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What a Man is Supposed to Feel<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

You\u2019re supposed to feel grief, I think. That\u2019s what they say in those glossy lifestyle magazines she used to buy. Grief, loss, mourning. All that Greek tragedy stuff.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, I felt\u2026 confused. And then something else. Something that crept up on me slowly, like a cat. The word whispered in my brain, louder and louder until it was practically screaming:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Freedom.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was like being released from prison, except the prison had decent cooking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Bucket List of the Newly Liberated<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, a whole universe opened up. The things I\u2019d never done because she said no:<\/p>\n\n\n\n