Deep Center Field Press Formed
15 Years and a Dream
15 years ago, I created Deep Center Field Press LLC. Its goals were modest, and achievable, without an LLC. I formed it out of some wild idea that I would move ahead with ambitions regarding publications of other authors.
At that juncture, the prior 5 years were spent researching and writing on major league baseball and social commentaries I put up at Google’s Blogspot and much earlier at Geocities (CollegePark/Stadium) in the late 1990s under that Web 1.0 structure.
Not long after I started the LLC, tragedy delayed any moving actions. My mother’s renal cell cancer came back again by late August 2010. She was admitted for surgery at the VA hospital in downtown Chicago in late September 2010. Within weeks of the surgery, even though she signed off on immediate treatment with a chemotherapy drug, Sunitinib, the surgeon overruled the cancer specialist. Instead, suggested that my mother need more time to recover from removal of adrenal glands and cancerous masses in her abdomen.
Irreversibly, by mid-November, the cancer had spread all over, including a quarter size mass in the upper right quadrant of her prefrontal cortex. My mother had marked changes in behavior prior to that – sequencing of tasks and thoughts – that triggered alarms enough that I surmised it was serious.
Even with surgery done at University of Illinois-Chicago, my mom’s last surgery was only to prolong her life. From the day before Thanksgiving 2010 to her final days in June 2011, we stayed at a Value Inn in Merrillville, Indiana. She was a trooper – even as we thereafter did further cancer-targeted brain treatments at UIC - and visited with other specialists at Loyola and Northwestern.
I became her POA – and tried to handled her affairs as best one could without any wherewithal to really accomplish much. Her Social Security benefits (she was only 59) came online on Groundhog day, February 2011, right as a freak blizzard in Merrillville hit. We saw 18” of snow in around 6 hours.
Those monies paid for her funeral.
She left the field of battle on this Earth June 27, 2011 at 2:12 AM.
In August 2014, I published Bringin’ Gas & Dialin’ 9: A Seven Score Addiction to Major League Baseball, Volume 1 (1869-1949) and dedicated it to my mom. Volume II was published in 2022 - although only including research to 2014.
From 2015 to 2019, I found myself changing physically, socially, economically and even, politically. Sometimes the things you learn in the midst of a mid-life crisis (coming into my mid-40s) are actually very good for the soul. These were the best years in my life – in so far as the darker forces inside of me were in remission. Reconciling with demons from the past, accepting blame as well for the fuck-ups of a lifetime had (then), and applying new lessons to my being, helped. It wasn’t at all perfect – but I was content enough, if alone most of the time.
After leaving my second go at Industrial Engineer posting in August 2016, I wrote a business plan for healthcare system. (This came after losing 75 lbs. in 9 months.) The solution came from one’s trek:
Change of Diet (simplified, proteins heavy, carbs lighter. Pizza is my kryptonite.)
Workout regimen (once able, heavy lifting, low on aerobics (bicycle, running) but walked a lot)
Nutritional supplements (Vitamin D, A, and K et. al. I felt the seasonal effects of lacking sunlight. Being an office drone never actually appealed to me. Rather stifling actually. But my resume, as it was is still a wreck, didn’t open doors to outdoor opportunities – construction, mining, NAVAL! Excursions! – that I would have loved to do if someone had patience with my beginner abilities.)
Mental improvement (learning to cope with our past; accept people’s fuck ups; and our own contributions to those situations, as we fuck up royally too.)
I sent my plan (a one-stop shop, I called it Inertial Nowmentum, or IN) to AOL’s Steve Case; and even, Sequoia Capital, a known friendly of the CCP. (This was before I knew or thought too deeply on such matters.)
I went to San Francisco in February 2017 (it poured rain the moment I touched down in San Fran) for an entrepreneurial business conference. It was my first time in California; and I learned quickly: it is all about who you know.
By 2019, though I had made some headway in my own life, but I regressed in other aspects. The publications hadn’t transpired. My “career” as an IE consultant worked well enough, but companies hired me for maintenance of old systems, not moving ahead or actually fixing what was wrong. Fear of capital investment or lack of vision struck me as a big problem in these 3 consulting positions.
So I left the last consulting position in late June 2019, and I decided to write, yet again. This time, a social commentary, as the conflicts brewing in politics, economics, and individual freedom were all on the brain.
By November 2019, I published A Manhood Doctrine. The opening chapters were a brief history of what led, in my opinion, to the degrading of the American Experiment. The middle chapters were about one’s own issues and flaws – a trip down “I really fucked up” lane. The final chapters were remedies or fixes to what ails us, in general.
Little did I know there was a huge problem ahead for Humanity: and no one was going to come through this unaffected. This agenda unfolded – and I wrote voluminously on it: Operation Virus came into being as a working title during the summer of 2020 from A Manhood Doctrine.
The last five years have brought into perspective how little control one has – and how many like it just that way – over one’s own life. That we have such forces at play, playing at God, and also: those that will never admit they contribute to their own shackles, their chains, and their servitude to people that despise and think nothing about your existence. Useless Eaters is the term applied by those supposedly in the know.
I have regressed substantially. My daily life is not what one would call: stable. I don’t see the world anywhere near the way I once did. That is a blessing, but also is a curse.
Everyone with a title or position of authority now becomes an object of investigation. Who are they? Who pays them? Who taught them? What is their ideology? What are they messaging? Why do they think they have such authority? What are they hiding?
And while these answers are good to know, it may take longer than the instant these authority figures decide to put the boot on one’s neck. Decide one is not worthy of freedom in a world with plenty of space for us all – but someone always lays claim to the SPACE one are currently occupying. Even if one has paid taxes or rents to that SPACE, someone, with a bureaucratic title, can trample on one’s civil rights to occupy, grow food, or maintain a business there.
The courts act as slow or as fast as that bureaucrat desires. (Only a highly paid lawyer – or routinely biased media attention – might curtail the actions of these authorities.)
Meanwhile, many have made their minds up about certain folks and have no desire ever to change that position. They too have listened to media’s cries – whether they know who pulls those talking head’s strings is another question – about those certain folks. Certain folk equals Trump here.
Say whatever one likes, Trump’s name will never be forgotten in World History. I will bank on that.
Alas, fifteen years ago, I was a much different person. I was highly jaded for different reasons than today’s jading. Today, we call such: red pilling or black pilling depending on who is viewing The Matrix one has awoken from and deciding which way to act from now forward.
I have published a substantial amount of written works. Not bad for a never-do-well bum with a prison record, a one-time obsession with baseball, and a long-time desire to fix one’s placement in this often heartless milieu called Earth.
We don’t know how this all turns out – from a human perspective.
God – that most mysterious entity people grapple with from whatever mindset they happened into – knows, or shows, or imploded for all of us to carry forth a quintessential bit of God’s essence inside. Some humans though appear to have substantially less, or a complete absence, of that essence.
Or at least: that what I think is afoot. But I could be wrong. One must accept that premise too.
Deep Center Field Press, according to the state of Indiana, was dissolved 07/09/2013. But such errors in government (they want more money, don’t we all?) are routine.
DCF Press lives on here.
And the quest to awaken one’s animal spirits daily to fight on will continue for as long as these fingers or one’s mouth or being still has a bit of essence inside.
Peace Unto You.
