Word of the day: Sapiosexual. Sapiosexual is defined in the Urbandictionary as one who is sexually attracted to the intelligence in others, other definitions state that it doesn't matter the sexual orientation of those others, so i guess I have sapiosexual tendencies but only toward the opposite sex. Though if I have to hang with other dudes I would prefer they have a little more IQ than a BB. However beggars can't be choosers, you know what I mean? I don't live in what could ever be called a intellectual nerve center.
I spent a long weekend mostly alone because it's the holiday season and people are busy. Good for them, bad for me but I learned something. I learned that I possess a rather expansive mind that does not do very well locked up with itself. I should not sit in an apartment alone for long. It gets dark in there. Real scary dark. I am afraid of the dark.
There are great changes going on. I am not a part of any of them and feel that I am a waste of life sometimes. I do hold on to the self serving belief that our job as humans is to procreate and I have done that. I have four very good kids. I'm not an overachiever. I have very good kids not perfectly weird GREAT kids. Those are nut jobs. I think I have and continue to provide above par parenting. But who knows. I could just be very lucky, these may have been damn near perfect children anyway. I still take a little credit cause I have nothing otherwise.
I'm not convinced yet that anybody has anything else than that. When we die we die alone and with nothing, so the only way we can live on beyond our given time is though, and by, our offspring.
I walked to the store a little while ago thinking. I think all the time. Accomplish nothing but boy I think about it. I walked to the store and looked around at the grass and the sky and felt the wind and thought about it. When I left the store the walk back seemed longer.
I am just rambling here but believe me...rambling here and nobody reading it is better by multitudes than just sitting around doing nothing much else. I rarely do NOTHING I mean I read or stumbleupon or checkout music or some other such crap or drink.
I read about these people who go on treks alone to the wilderness and I think that may be great. I wonder about all the things one would come away from a trip like that. I am relieved though to know that I better do nothing like that ever. I would come back if I ever did come back, a lunatic. Broken. I am not meant to be alone. We are social animals and by lord I need some freakin interaction. Big time. Though I get tired of people. Sick of the same petty crap and conversations. Understimulated. I like to be challenged I guess.
Friday night I had a pretty good time taking about this young dude's trouble with women. Got drunk. He said that there is no way we could ever really figure out love. I like his optimism. Poor kid. He just don't know yet. In that there is hope. Not just for him but all mankind.
I find that my personality crisis is really pretty cool too. You have to look at it in third person and try to enjoy the show. I was called wise a couple of times lately. That is kinda cool, I've always thought my father was the wisest man I've ever known but I'm not quite sure I want to be there. I mean...heck I don't know anything. What does it mean to be wise. Am I that old? Wisdom can be cold. Hard. It may just be logic, and that is not always good.
A few years ago when I was building restaurants one of the promotions girls was asking me about relationship advice. I finally asked her what the hell?? After all it looked like my marriage was over. She said that I was, at the time, married for 15 years and that meant success. It didn't and don't feel like it to me but heck...she was pretty so whatever. We ate sushi. Is that wisdom? Holding on longer that most other people. I guess it don't matter. She wanted to hang with me and that's good enough. Nobody else knew she was just talking about her new fiance.
Maybe it's all a sham.
I'm drinking beer out of a paper bag on my back patio right now. I have a smoke hanging out the corner of my mouth and periodically checking to see if I have a text. Facebook is up right now on another window and I am listening to jazz. Writing.
"TC was do you do for fun?" Oh I write. "Really?" Yeah man nothing big not published but yeah that's what I do. Sound impressive, deep.
My flat (flat sounds better than apartment, I think I will use it for now on) is a mess and I really should go clean the kitchen and take out the trash, fold the clean clothes I washed the other day. But cleaning on a Sunday evening is nowhere near as romantic sounding as writing. You see what I mean?
Fake it till you make it? Why not? What else am I doing. Doubt I will ever make it but I can make it sound good right?
I have a business idea. A good one. A really good one. I won't get rich but I will have a great life and a great time but...I do nothing about it. Why?
I don't know if I have sapiosexual leanings or not but right now I have nothing so it really, really sounds cool. I'm pretty lonely so maybe I just have sexual tendencies. Perhaps the dumbest, happiest, goofiest, willingest, chick will do right now.
Man is born, man lives, man dies, it is all vanity.
Anybody can be wise, you just have to read a lot then recycle other peoples thoughts. Being wise does not mean being original. Trust me.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
The truth hurts
Let me describe the scene to you. I'm not really sure why I decided to start with that line. Of course I'm going to describe the scene to you. I'm a writer and you are a reader. That's the sort of deal that's understood right from the beginning and doesn't require pointing out. Then again, sometimes pointing out the obvious is exactly what we writers do.
So, let me describe the scene to you. It is now 9:12 a.m. I have ear buds plugged into the MP3 player/phone and Cab Calloway is piped almost directly into my brain. Before I finished the sentence he was replaced with the Cure. I am wearing the same clothes I had on last night because I wanted to go out for breakfast. I came home, took my music and book outside and began to read. Fuck that. Time to write.
My old friends have always been there. They are the pens, pencils, notebooks, scraps of paper (Bruce Springsteen? Don't think so...next. Thorogood? yeah baby!) typewriters and keyboards I have written crap on for decades.
Oh and because I'm cool goddammit, the sunglasses are still on! Though I can barely see sitting here in my room at the little computer area, not really a desk, it's a chair with a little folding table next to it. (Spanish jazz...NEXT!! Janis Joplin) The sunglasses will stay on for now.
I was up early and went out to watch the sunrise. I then went to a breakfast buffet. I will go to the gym later today. I hope that the girl I was sorta seeing but nothing serious will continue to speak to me even though we what?? Broke up? last night. I think we stopped planning to date. Hard to say.
The thing is...You know? I'm not afraid. Maybe I am. (Sunglasses off even though The Chili Peppers are killing it!) Let me tell you something about me you don't know. Well this was supposed to be some dramatic statement but I honestly think anyone who would read this already knows me. If you know me a little you know me a lot. I doubt I could make up something you all don't know about me. Mysterious I am not.
I've been hiding out. For months. I have. Most of you know that. Most of you have let me and those who let me were right to do so. These things take time. The girl is just getting out of hers. Her bad one you know. I think getting out of a bad one may take a little less time than getting out of mine at least I hope so. Then again my ex and I have been rehearsing our break up for many years. Perhaps I haven't been hiding as much as waiting.
I've been waiting for someone like her. Maybe not her though. Hard to say. She hasn't had the time I've had. We had met before, during very similar circumstances.
I just picked up my laptop and moved up to the back patio. A note fell out of the pc wedge thing I keep under the laptop. It has fans that run off a usb plug but I never use them. I guess I stuff notes in there though. I looked in the wedge and there are several. They are notes of things I wrote at work and need to type or just thoughts you know?
It's too bad. I'm not sure...not true, I guess I am sure that neither one of us are ready. She said she wasn't ready but we sorta went forward anyway. Awkwardly I think. I will no longer waste anytime with anyone I know from the start will never be anything. No more good time friends. She had potential. Just...bad timing? Hope that's all. (The Ramones) I thing I may be ready to move forward, it don't matter cause I will move forward anyway fuck it. I may be fearless like that. Then again I let it get sideways for a few minutes and called it. Well I was going to call it but she beat me to it. She's perceptive that way I think, most women are I think.
There are feelings and thoughts and fears I don't want to experience yet. I could be way off base. Perhaps a good time friend is exactly what I need. I think I'm pretty self-aware, at least I thought I was pretty self-aware. My head could be firmly buried deep, deep in the sand. One cannot leave the house without danger. I have left the house. I will go down the roads I want to go down though. They may be dangerous but it will be on me.
I'm really not that experienced with the break ups though. This may hard to believe but it is true. My ex and I have done it several times but I haven't...this is a little funny because we didn't break up. There was nothing to break up from. We were only sorta seeing each other. Hell, we did it over Facebook messages. Sad right? Ironic? It does bother me but perhaps its a funny story tomorrow. Isn't that all life is though...stories? (Greatful Dead) We were sorta seeing each other once before I had to call that off then too. There is a very good reason but I'm not going to get into it here. Another time if it is significant. Probably isn't though.
(Flobots) This day is beautiful, the weather. This day is beautiful anyway. It's cliche but let tell you anyway, life is too short, everyday is a beautiful day. I really want to go shoot basketball but it was a breakfast buffet. I did not eat cottage cheese and fruit. I ate. I love to eat. I love to eat good food. Sometimes though I have to settle for a breakfast buffet trough.
She told me the other day that I should put her in the friend zone. She did not put me there though. What does that mean?? I am single so as far as I'm concerned there are no friend zones. That doesn't mean that I want to date or sleep with all or any of my female friends but it does mean I see no reason to limit potential options. I mean my life is pretty fluid right now and that's cool I think.
I think I may be a way better buddy than boyfriend. I hope that is NOT true but it sure seems like it. I kinda like the idea of being a boyfriend. I've been a husband for many years. A title change may do me some good.
There are many children playing at the playground. I can see it from my balcony. I envy the little cretins. They only have one fear right now. The only thing they fear at this second in their little ignorant lives is that it will be time to go home. That's all. (Beastie Boys)
I hope she isn't pissed at me. I think I wrote all this just to say that. I do care. You see, I want to be liked by everybody but have never been liked by EVERYBODY. I got over it in childhood. I want to be liked by everybody but it's perfectly ok that I'm not. I rarely if ever think about it and never worry about it. I'm me and that's all I can't even try to act like someone else even for a second. Just can't do it.
It's a big ol world you know? I hate the thought of on-line dating. That doesn't mean I'm down with catching a little bar chick. I'm not...but then little bar chicks need love too right. Maybe they do but I'm not really down with hanging at the bars. They are like in-laws...a great place to visit but I don't want to live there. (Bob Marley)
There has been very little happen in my small life that Bob Marley cannot see me through. Don't worry. Ok Bob...I will trust you again. Father Bob you know?
Insignificant little problems. There are people on this very day that will not live to see the sunset. But they are the blessed ones, the tragedy lies in with those who live on with out them. They have to move on and most will. Those that do will feel guilty because to move on you must leave the dead behind.
Today is going to be a good day. The world is going to turn with or with out our permission or happiness so we better get busy living. (Sublime)
Too bad it's the end of November. This day screams for beer poolside, laughs and bikinis. This day has a timing issue as well.
Let me tell you something about me you may not know about me...I am completely full of shit. I can sometimes fool myself into thinking I'm a little deeper than a maaco paint job. I may even be able to fool you too for a little bit. The truth hurts so watch it.
So, let me describe the scene to you. It is now 9:12 a.m. I have ear buds plugged into the MP3 player/phone and Cab Calloway is piped almost directly into my brain. Before I finished the sentence he was replaced with the Cure. I am wearing the same clothes I had on last night because I wanted to go out for breakfast. I came home, took my music and book outside and began to read. Fuck that. Time to write.
My old friends have always been there. They are the pens, pencils, notebooks, scraps of paper (Bruce Springsteen? Don't think so...next. Thorogood? yeah baby!) typewriters and keyboards I have written crap on for decades.
Oh and because I'm cool goddammit, the sunglasses are still on! Though I can barely see sitting here in my room at the little computer area, not really a desk, it's a chair with a little folding table next to it. (Spanish jazz...NEXT!! Janis Joplin) The sunglasses will stay on for now.
I was up early and went out to watch the sunrise. I then went to a breakfast buffet. I will go to the gym later today. I hope that the girl I was sorta seeing but nothing serious will continue to speak to me even though we what?? Broke up? last night. I think we stopped planning to date. Hard to say.
The thing is...You know? I'm not afraid. Maybe I am. (Sunglasses off even though The Chili Peppers are killing it!) Let me tell you something about me you don't know. Well this was supposed to be some dramatic statement but I honestly think anyone who would read this already knows me. If you know me a little you know me a lot. I doubt I could make up something you all don't know about me. Mysterious I am not.
I've been hiding out. For months. I have. Most of you know that. Most of you have let me and those who let me were right to do so. These things take time. The girl is just getting out of hers. Her bad one you know. I think getting out of a bad one may take a little less time than getting out of mine at least I hope so. Then again my ex and I have been rehearsing our break up for many years. Perhaps I haven't been hiding as much as waiting.
I've been waiting for someone like her. Maybe not her though. Hard to say. She hasn't had the time I've had. We had met before, during very similar circumstances.
I just picked up my laptop and moved up to the back patio. A note fell out of the pc wedge thing I keep under the laptop. It has fans that run off a usb plug but I never use them. I guess I stuff notes in there though. I looked in the wedge and there are several. They are notes of things I wrote at work and need to type or just thoughts you know?
It's too bad. I'm not sure...not true, I guess I am sure that neither one of us are ready. She said she wasn't ready but we sorta went forward anyway. Awkwardly I think. I will no longer waste anytime with anyone I know from the start will never be anything. No more good time friends. She had potential. Just...bad timing? Hope that's all. (The Ramones) I thing I may be ready to move forward, it don't matter cause I will move forward anyway fuck it. I may be fearless like that. Then again I let it get sideways for a few minutes and called it. Well I was going to call it but she beat me to it. She's perceptive that way I think, most women are I think.
There are feelings and thoughts and fears I don't want to experience yet. I could be way off base. Perhaps a good time friend is exactly what I need. I think I'm pretty self-aware, at least I thought I was pretty self-aware. My head could be firmly buried deep, deep in the sand. One cannot leave the house without danger. I have left the house. I will go down the roads I want to go down though. They may be dangerous but it will be on me.
I'm really not that experienced with the break ups though. This may hard to believe but it is true. My ex and I have done it several times but I haven't...this is a little funny because we didn't break up. There was nothing to break up from. We were only sorta seeing each other. Hell, we did it over Facebook messages. Sad right? Ironic? It does bother me but perhaps its a funny story tomorrow. Isn't that all life is though...stories? (Greatful Dead) We were sorta seeing each other once before I had to call that off then too. There is a very good reason but I'm not going to get into it here. Another time if it is significant. Probably isn't though.
(Flobots) This day is beautiful, the weather. This day is beautiful anyway. It's cliche but let tell you anyway, life is too short, everyday is a beautiful day. I really want to go shoot basketball but it was a breakfast buffet. I did not eat cottage cheese and fruit. I ate. I love to eat. I love to eat good food. Sometimes though I have to settle for a breakfast buffet trough.
She told me the other day that I should put her in the friend zone. She did not put me there though. What does that mean?? I am single so as far as I'm concerned there are no friend zones. That doesn't mean that I want to date or sleep with all or any of my female friends but it does mean I see no reason to limit potential options. I mean my life is pretty fluid right now and that's cool I think.
I think I may be a way better buddy than boyfriend. I hope that is NOT true but it sure seems like it. I kinda like the idea of being a boyfriend. I've been a husband for many years. A title change may do me some good.
There are many children playing at the playground. I can see it from my balcony. I envy the little cretins. They only have one fear right now. The only thing they fear at this second in their little ignorant lives is that it will be time to go home. That's all. (Beastie Boys)
I hope she isn't pissed at me. I think I wrote all this just to say that. I do care. You see, I want to be liked by everybody but have never been liked by EVERYBODY. I got over it in childhood. I want to be liked by everybody but it's perfectly ok that I'm not. I rarely if ever think about it and never worry about it. I'm me and that's all I can't even try to act like someone else even for a second. Just can't do it.
It's a big ol world you know? I hate the thought of on-line dating. That doesn't mean I'm down with catching a little bar chick. I'm not...but then little bar chicks need love too right. Maybe they do but I'm not really down with hanging at the bars. They are like in-laws...a great place to visit but I don't want to live there. (Bob Marley)
There has been very little happen in my small life that Bob Marley cannot see me through. Don't worry. Ok Bob...I will trust you again. Father Bob you know?
Insignificant little problems. There are people on this very day that will not live to see the sunset. But they are the blessed ones, the tragedy lies in with those who live on with out them. They have to move on and most will. Those that do will feel guilty because to move on you must leave the dead behind.
Today is going to be a good day. The world is going to turn with or with out our permission or happiness so we better get busy living. (Sublime)
Too bad it's the end of November. This day screams for beer poolside, laughs and bikinis. This day has a timing issue as well.
Let me tell you something about me you may not know about me...I am completely full of shit. I can sometimes fool myself into thinking I'm a little deeper than a maaco paint job. I may even be able to fool you too for a little bit. The truth hurts so watch it.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Chapter 1
This is the very first page of my very first very rough draft of my very first book. It will change dramatically but I felt I should post something, kind of a commitment. I don't know. This is very different then the one or two page things i usually write. Please tell me what you think. Is it a good start?
Chapter 1
“He's not going to fuck you for three hours Judy.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Well, it's my time isn't it? Hello!” Judy said.
“Judy,” Mrs. Jensen exhales,”No, that's not how it goes. It's more of an experience. Some dinner, wine, maybe a massage. Look Judy, if you just want to get fucked, go pick up a guy at a bar. Daniel is a gentleman and will treat you like a lady. Then like a woman. Got it? Didn't Stella tell you that?”
“No, actually she didn't. She really didn't say much at all, the prude. Stella just said it was money well spent. Then she smiled.” Judy said.
“That's good. She shouldn't have told you that. Are you interested or not? My calendar is filling up already.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“I'll think about it some more and call you back okay?” Judy asked.
“No Judy, not really. You need to make an appointment, one you can keep because you are going to pay in advance and there are no refunds, or you can lose the number.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Wow. Okay. Very interesting.” Judy paused. Judy could hear Mrs. Jensen on the other end tapping a pen or something. “Okay fine I'll do it! Bill's going to Philadelphia on Thursday.”
“Thursday's not good, swim meet. Unless you can do it later in the evening?” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Can't be too late because Joey will come home from his friends house, can you imagine? Judy said.
“Dammit Judy! Make it happen. Why don't you get a hotel room? Dan can pick you up and drop you off after if you want, but it's on the clock.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“I don't know. I want to but...” Judy said.
“But nothing. You've made it this far, let's close the deal right now.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“You can be a hard lady, you know that? Okay. Alright. Make the appointment. I'll make it happen. Maybe Joey can spend the night at his friends house.” Judy said, “What now?”
“I will stop by tomorrow morning and get the money on the way to the school. Cash.” Mrs. Jensen said,” And I will go over the rules.”
“Rules? What do you mean?” Judy said. She didn't get a reply except the beep from the cell phone. Mrs. Jensen had already hung up.
Mrs. Patricia Jensen added the appointment to her calendar on her cell phone and updated the device. It would automatically update the web based software and link with Daniel Jensen's matching phone. Her husband and business partner would now be notified that there was a change on the calendar application and he would plan accordingly. Mrs. Jensen did her job and Mr. Jensen would do his. Mrs. Jensen then entered her class room as the bell rang and told her students to sit down, and quiet down.
Chapter 1
“He's not going to fuck you for three hours Judy.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Well, it's my time isn't it? Hello!” Judy said.
“Judy,” Mrs. Jensen exhales,”No, that's not how it goes. It's more of an experience. Some dinner, wine, maybe a massage. Look Judy, if you just want to get fucked, go pick up a guy at a bar. Daniel is a gentleman and will treat you like a lady. Then like a woman. Got it? Didn't Stella tell you that?”
“No, actually she didn't. She really didn't say much at all, the prude. Stella just said it was money well spent. Then she smiled.” Judy said.
“That's good. She shouldn't have told you that. Are you interested or not? My calendar is filling up already.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“I'll think about it some more and call you back okay?” Judy asked.
“No Judy, not really. You need to make an appointment, one you can keep because you are going to pay in advance and there are no refunds, or you can lose the number.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Wow. Okay. Very interesting.” Judy paused. Judy could hear Mrs. Jensen on the other end tapping a pen or something. “Okay fine I'll do it! Bill's going to Philadelphia on Thursday.”
“Thursday's not good, swim meet. Unless you can do it later in the evening?” Mrs. Jensen said.
“Can't be too late because Joey will come home from his friends house, can you imagine? Judy said.
“Dammit Judy! Make it happen. Why don't you get a hotel room? Dan can pick you up and drop you off after if you want, but it's on the clock.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“I don't know. I want to but...” Judy said.
“But nothing. You've made it this far, let's close the deal right now.” Mrs. Jensen said.
“You can be a hard lady, you know that? Okay. Alright. Make the appointment. I'll make it happen. Maybe Joey can spend the night at his friends house.” Judy said, “What now?”
“I will stop by tomorrow morning and get the money on the way to the school. Cash.” Mrs. Jensen said,” And I will go over the rules.”
“Rules? What do you mean?” Judy said. She didn't get a reply except the beep from the cell phone. Mrs. Jensen had already hung up.
Mrs. Patricia Jensen added the appointment to her calendar on her cell phone and updated the device. It would automatically update the web based software and link with Daniel Jensen's matching phone. Her husband and business partner would now be notified that there was a change on the calendar application and he would plan accordingly. Mrs. Jensen did her job and Mr. Jensen would do his. Mrs. Jensen then entered her class room as the bell rang and told her students to sit down, and quiet down.
Friday, October 7, 2011
I Am He and He is Me
Breath in. Breath out. Take a good look around you. Study your surroundings take in everything. Pay attention to items and people nearby that may make noise. The soft hum of a fan. The shrill laughter of a co-worker. The whirl of the hard drive. Take it all in. Then dismiss it. Yeah baby, let it go. Forget about it completely. All those things will be there when we are finished. I need your total attention for a little while. It won't be long but it may seem awhile to you.
Breath in. Breath out. Look at me. Look at nothing but the words on the page or screen in front of you. Focus. There is no one anywhere. It is just me and you baby. Relax. I will see to it that you are safe in this place. Look at me. Nothing else matters right now. Let your cares and worries and work go. Just let go.
Breath in. Breath out. You are here with me. Imagine. You can imagine still. Make believe, if you will. But this is not your make believe is it? No baby, this is my make believe. Look at me. You can see me. Right now you have an image of me in your head. Those who know the author see a snapshot of him, those who don't know the author still sees someone that could be him and is for the moment isn't it? That's right. Focus. Imagine the screen and these words are me. It is me baby. I'm with you right now. Only you.
Now see my face not the author's face. No baby. You are in my place, not his, safe and alone. See my face. It is beautiful. Bright eyes and a broad smile. Hair, dark and slick and combed straight back. You can even see the lines left in my hair by the comb. Smooth, tanned skin with only a small scar to mark it. Do you see it? High on my cheek bone beneath my right eye. My eyes. Look into them. See me looking deeply into your eyes never wavering. What do you see? Humor? Yeah baby, a twinkle for sure. What else do you see my dear? Depth and knowledge? Timelessness. Deep pools of coal black pupils. Dark eyes. There is something dangerous in these eyes. There is life for sure but there is also murder and anarchy. Turbulent. You are safe. You are real. You are not a character here. You must trust me.
I will step back and show you my clothing. The white waist coat with broad shoulders, the long split tails over a white buttoned vest. Shiny black buttons. See it? Yes you do. Looking clean baby! That's right. A crisp, very crisp starched shirt with brilliant gold cuff links and a matching white bow tie. I step back a little more and you now can see my full attire! Beautiful baby. White pleated pants cuffed at the bottom, and the shoes. The shoes, patent leather white under white spats with black buttons. I want attention baby. I want your attention.
I stand straight and tall. I don't need the white cane with a gold knob on top but there it is. I smell of brandy and good cigars, leather and wood. I smell like a gentleman. My shoulder are back and though I am relaxed as you are you know there is more. I am poised and ready to react at all times. I am a man to be reckoned with. I am the man in charge. I am the MAN. People here live and die my very wish. People here succeed or fail, are loved or hated or as I choose. You are in my world baby. You are with me.
I will step forward again and offer you a chair. I pull out the chair you did not notice a moment before because it was not there a moment before. Yet there it is now. As you sit I will slide the chair in a little. It is a simple chair of bent dark wood and in front of you is a small table with a red table cloth. We are in a small, cozy room the lights are dim. There is New Orleans jazz playing softly in the back ground. I offer you a drink. Do you take it? No matter. We are here for business.
Business? Yeah baby what do you think? Business. I smile a brilliant smile and the room opens some before you. The music is coming from a small band playing slightly off to the side. A breathtakingly beautiful woman is singing. Singing very well. Everything here is perfect and you notice the other people. Don't notice them too much now. They don't notice you. They can even see me. I am here with you but we don't exist to them. Off to the other side is a bar. It is smokey but not terribly so, and not very crowded. The bar tender is a large fellow with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth that bounces up and down when he asks, " What can I get you buddy?" Do you see him? Look around. Check the place out. Cafe tables are spread about. A small but well appointed stage off to the left a little ways and the very nice, highly polished bar off to the right with the large bartender busy shining glasses or practicing his art. The door man in his black tuxedo looking very suave. The band is playing but the music is very soft and the beautiful singer is hitting every note perfectly but we can barely hear her. It is background. It is all back ground.
I lean forward and the room grows dark. You can hear the muted conversations and music still, but the only face you see is my beautiful face and brilliant smile. Very seductive isn't it? Yeah baby, smooth. Very cool. That what we are here for. That's the business I mentioned. Seduction. I am your fairy god brother baby. I can make anything happen here. What do you wish? For I am a genie. It's true. That's the magic here. Right here. Look. Look at me. Magic? Absolutely. There is one small catch though. There always is. The catch is only one small thing. I will get to that though for now think about it! Anything! Anything at all. Whatever can be imagined I can make here. Not just in this room though, anywhere.
Just like that the cozy little jazz bar is gone and we find ourselves on the Eiffel Tower still sitting at the same table. Music? Sure baby anything! The little jazz band is here too, off to the side as always. The City of Lights in full shine and it can't get any better. Romantic? Why not? The music goes silent and we can hear the bells of Notre Dame tolling in the distance.
Venice? In the wink of an eye. You can smell the water and feel the motion of the gondola. The gondolier singing as they do. We are on the Grand Canal and...well look! Look you see Venice how you want to don't you? I can change that if I want to but we'll let it pass for now. Enjoy your minds view of the beautiful city at night.
I can take you anywhere. Your house? The author's house? Let's stay in Venice for a little while longer.
Maybe some wine? It will be the best wine you ever put lips to. Or vinegar. Or something in between. I can feed you what I wish or what you wish. There is the catch my love. You see now? I am a genie. Yes I am. Alas I am not your genie though am I? I am the MAN. Not your man. Not entirely. I am the boss here but I work for another. I can fulfill your wishes for sure Baby. No question. The catch is your wishes has to be the same as the author's Love. He leaves room for you though. This isn't a movie. He leaves seams in things for your wishes to come true as well. This is give an take Baby. I give, you take and in return you feel in the blanks. You see Venice before you. Your Venice, not mine and not the author's.
I will leave you in Venice. Stay awhile. Stay as long as you like. There are hotels and restaurants and museums and the opera. Enjoy! The world is yours baby and if you need me I can take you there. I sure take the author everywhere. Anywhere and any era. I am a genie. I am the author. I am he and he is me. I am your fairy god brother.
Breath in. Breath out. Look at me. Look at nothing but the words on the page or screen in front of you. Focus. There is no one anywhere. It is just me and you baby. Relax. I will see to it that you are safe in this place. Look at me. Nothing else matters right now. Let your cares and worries and work go. Just let go.
Breath in. Breath out. You are here with me. Imagine. You can imagine still. Make believe, if you will. But this is not your make believe is it? No baby, this is my make believe. Look at me. You can see me. Right now you have an image of me in your head. Those who know the author see a snapshot of him, those who don't know the author still sees someone that could be him and is for the moment isn't it? That's right. Focus. Imagine the screen and these words are me. It is me baby. I'm with you right now. Only you.
Now see my face not the author's face. No baby. You are in my place, not his, safe and alone. See my face. It is beautiful. Bright eyes and a broad smile. Hair, dark and slick and combed straight back. You can even see the lines left in my hair by the comb. Smooth, tanned skin with only a small scar to mark it. Do you see it? High on my cheek bone beneath my right eye. My eyes. Look into them. See me looking deeply into your eyes never wavering. What do you see? Humor? Yeah baby, a twinkle for sure. What else do you see my dear? Depth and knowledge? Timelessness. Deep pools of coal black pupils. Dark eyes. There is something dangerous in these eyes. There is life for sure but there is also murder and anarchy. Turbulent. You are safe. You are real. You are not a character here. You must trust me.
I will step back and show you my clothing. The white waist coat with broad shoulders, the long split tails over a white buttoned vest. Shiny black buttons. See it? Yes you do. Looking clean baby! That's right. A crisp, very crisp starched shirt with brilliant gold cuff links and a matching white bow tie. I step back a little more and you now can see my full attire! Beautiful baby. White pleated pants cuffed at the bottom, and the shoes. The shoes, patent leather white under white spats with black buttons. I want attention baby. I want your attention.
I stand straight and tall. I don't need the white cane with a gold knob on top but there it is. I smell of brandy and good cigars, leather and wood. I smell like a gentleman. My shoulder are back and though I am relaxed as you are you know there is more. I am poised and ready to react at all times. I am a man to be reckoned with. I am the man in charge. I am the MAN. People here live and die my very wish. People here succeed or fail, are loved or hated or as I choose. You are in my world baby. You are with me.
I will step forward again and offer you a chair. I pull out the chair you did not notice a moment before because it was not there a moment before. Yet there it is now. As you sit I will slide the chair in a little. It is a simple chair of bent dark wood and in front of you is a small table with a red table cloth. We are in a small, cozy room the lights are dim. There is New Orleans jazz playing softly in the back ground. I offer you a drink. Do you take it? No matter. We are here for business.
Business? Yeah baby what do you think? Business. I smile a brilliant smile and the room opens some before you. The music is coming from a small band playing slightly off to the side. A breathtakingly beautiful woman is singing. Singing very well. Everything here is perfect and you notice the other people. Don't notice them too much now. They don't notice you. They can even see me. I am here with you but we don't exist to them. Off to the other side is a bar. It is smokey but not terribly so, and not very crowded. The bar tender is a large fellow with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth that bounces up and down when he asks, " What can I get you buddy?" Do you see him? Look around. Check the place out. Cafe tables are spread about. A small but well appointed stage off to the left a little ways and the very nice, highly polished bar off to the right with the large bartender busy shining glasses or practicing his art. The door man in his black tuxedo looking very suave. The band is playing but the music is very soft and the beautiful singer is hitting every note perfectly but we can barely hear her. It is background. It is all back ground.
I lean forward and the room grows dark. You can hear the muted conversations and music still, but the only face you see is my beautiful face and brilliant smile. Very seductive isn't it? Yeah baby, smooth. Very cool. That what we are here for. That's the business I mentioned. Seduction. I am your fairy god brother baby. I can make anything happen here. What do you wish? For I am a genie. It's true. That's the magic here. Right here. Look. Look at me. Magic? Absolutely. There is one small catch though. There always is. The catch is only one small thing. I will get to that though for now think about it! Anything! Anything at all. Whatever can be imagined I can make here. Not just in this room though, anywhere.
Just like that the cozy little jazz bar is gone and we find ourselves on the Eiffel Tower still sitting at the same table. Music? Sure baby anything! The little jazz band is here too, off to the side as always. The City of Lights in full shine and it can't get any better. Romantic? Why not? The music goes silent and we can hear the bells of Notre Dame tolling in the distance.
Venice? In the wink of an eye. You can smell the water and feel the motion of the gondola. The gondolier singing as they do. We are on the Grand Canal and...well look! Look you see Venice how you want to don't you? I can change that if I want to but we'll let it pass for now. Enjoy your minds view of the beautiful city at night.
I can take you anywhere. Your house? The author's house? Let's stay in Venice for a little while longer.
Maybe some wine? It will be the best wine you ever put lips to. Or vinegar. Or something in between. I can feed you what I wish or what you wish. There is the catch my love. You see now? I am a genie. Yes I am. Alas I am not your genie though am I? I am the MAN. Not your man. Not entirely. I am the boss here but I work for another. I can fulfill your wishes for sure Baby. No question. The catch is your wishes has to be the same as the author's Love. He leaves room for you though. This isn't a movie. He leaves seams in things for your wishes to come true as well. This is give an take Baby. I give, you take and in return you feel in the blanks. You see Venice before you. Your Venice, not mine and not the author's.
I will leave you in Venice. Stay awhile. Stay as long as you like. There are hotels and restaurants and museums and the opera. Enjoy! The world is yours baby and if you need me I can take you there. I sure take the author everywhere. Anywhere and any era. I am a genie. I am the author. I am he and he is me. I am your fairy god brother.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
So there I was.
So there I was in the bush hunting the deadly snake that has been hunting my fair friend. The call came about at a troubling time as these emergency calls often do. I hardly had time to heed the call. I was very busy going though my fall and winter clothing. Vital stuff. My bloody room is still a mess.
So there I was in the bush hunting for a reptile that could eat a lovely lady in one bite! The reports were mind boggling! The serpent had been stalking her for months. Whenever the creature saw her it would toy with her by smacking its gigantic mouth! The huge creature stalked his prey carefully and studiously keeping constant vigil on it's potential preys location. It was very long and scary! The snake stretched, when it wanted to impress her, all the way from her back patio across the grassy yard and into the street. Usually it kept most of it's massive muscled body coiled up and hidden from view. It stays hidden from view to everyone but it's intended victim.
So there I was in the bush. What the hell am I doing here? If this is a giant snake that actually chews it's food then by golly I may be a nice little snack. A 280 pound snack for a giant friggin Harry Potter snake! I gotta get the hell out of here. I'm not even Australian. I'm gone.
Crap, the damsel is watching me. Maybe I can scare the big SOB away. I'll just stomp though the bushes and run it off and act like I'm trying to catch it. That'll impress her.
Stomp
Stomp
Stomp
Jesus! I can see it! It is pretty big. It's no anaconda but still. "Shew! Go away!" I think to myself. Show no fear! Where did it go? Thank god! It is gone. Now I just have to make like I'm trying to catch the thing for awhile and maybe it really will go away. I order a bucket so she thinks I'm actually going to pick the scary thing up and take it away. Doubt it!
I make like I'm hunting the snake for a really long time. No sign of him. I then sit down for awhile "to let it get comfortable again so I can catch it". Right. Stomping around again to really scare it off. It seems to work! Snake is gone and it is time to leave! Whew! Close call. I really don't want to pee my pants in front of people. Especially the fair damsel.
We are set to exit the building and my spidey sense starts pinging away. I have a beautifully honed sense of self preservation!
So there I was...staring right at the dreaded serpent coiled beneath the stairs. The stairs we have to pass to get to the car. Everybody sees me...see it. Nothing I can do now. The fair damsel will not be satisfied with anything less than vindication and I am the knight to slay the dragon. Like it or not. I have to live around here after all.
I order a...a...what do you call the guys who help the knights? Wait a moment while google does it's magic. Ah! A page and then an esquire! Yes I send my acting esquire to roust the dragon from it's lair. If it doesn't work I can always blame the esquire that's what they are really there for after all.
Holy crap! It works! The dragon must be 4 feet long and black as the night! This dragon is fast boys and girls no joke! I can't back down now all eyes are on me! The chase is on! Maybe it can get away again!
So there I was in the bush. Again. Chasing around the fastest damn snake I've ever seen. "You're too slow TC!" Cries the fair maiden! "It's too damn fast!" I think as I turn to look at her hands up saying, "what do you want me to do?" The esquire is all over it though damn him!
"There it is! In the tree!" He says, from a safe distance away. I don't really want to fight the dragon in a friggin tree I can tell you that with certainty! The dragon is only in the tree for a moment though as it circles it ten or twenty time in half a second and throws itself through the air back into the bush. The bush I'm in.
So there I was in the bush. With the dragon. The dragon that I now know can fly if it wishes to. There is also an audience now. Perfect. The esquire is doing his job far to well and I may actually have to catch this thing. I am running it down tiring it out. Maybe it's tiring me out. I'm really not sure at this point. Besides the only way to get out of this now is for one of us to die. It may be me. Wait! Where did it go!!
"Esquire! Where art the serpent?"
"It went that way!" Esquire says.
"He went under the air conditioner!" A spectator yells! Thank god.
"Well heck." I say secretly hopeful the melee is over for good.
Stomp
Stomp
Stomp
Playing the part. I act like I'm looking under the air conditioner. Looking diligently around. Hoping the sneaky snake is sneaking away. Far away. Alas this is not to be.
So there I was almost free from the task set to me by a fair princess locked in her tower by fear. Escorted out and ran down I think we can leave now and give the fearsome creature space to vacate. No. The fair princess wishes to speak to the peasants who have gathered for the festivities. "Come on princess...we must make haste lest the dragon try again." I silently plead. One simply cannot look like a coward. I see the dreaded beast again! Damn him!! He is not hiding! He is not vacating! He is simply waiting for me.
So there I was in the bush, the serpent waiting for another chance to consume me on a peasant's patio. "Oh esquire! I see him!" Esquire comes a running. Of course. I only need him there in case things continue to go astray. Blame. I decide one of us must now die and I then harden my reserve.
Into battle I must go! I tell the esquire that he should stand back resolving to kill or be killed and there is no room for blame on the open battle field. The dragon has chosen the field well but there are no trees on the patio. No bushes either. Just the hissing serpent and me. Maybe I can simply step on it's head and be done with it.
Simplifying the matter does NOT work and I get rebuffed with several vicious attacks. Backing carefully giving little ground I chance a glance toward the fair princess and see her. I see her and the crowd of peasants with a collective breath held and eyes wide in terror. I shall not fail. I must save the maiden and all those that love life. I must vanquish the dragon.
I attempt another stomp and just as the serpent tries to gain a little more ground for another vicious attach I strike! I seize the serpent by the tail! It does not like that. It does not like that at all! Spitting and striking and fighting and if Harry Potter were there he would have heard it cussing, no doubt! I then make my killing stroke. Inglorious. Yes. Still I get the job done by swinging the serpent back over my head into a thankfully strong window (total accident), followed quickly by a forward stroke onto the air conditioner. That did the trick. Then, for show of course, a few more snaps.
So there I was in the bush carrying the carcass of a dead snake to the delight of what must be several thousand spectators. I deposit the snake in the meadow across the street and strut back. A proud victorious knight. Having saved the fair princess I made haste with the excuse to wash by battle bloodied hands into the princess' abode. There I did wash my hands but also cried for a brief moment from fear. I would like to say I wept as well for the vanquished foe but nope, I cried like a little girl because I was scared. I also checked my pants. All good.
So there I was in the car a hero!
So there I was in the bush hunting for a reptile that could eat a lovely lady in one bite! The reports were mind boggling! The serpent had been stalking her for months. Whenever the creature saw her it would toy with her by smacking its gigantic mouth! The huge creature stalked his prey carefully and studiously keeping constant vigil on it's potential preys location. It was very long and scary! The snake stretched, when it wanted to impress her, all the way from her back patio across the grassy yard and into the street. Usually it kept most of it's massive muscled body coiled up and hidden from view. It stays hidden from view to everyone but it's intended victim.
So there I was in the bush. What the hell am I doing here? If this is a giant snake that actually chews it's food then by golly I may be a nice little snack. A 280 pound snack for a giant friggin Harry Potter snake! I gotta get the hell out of here. I'm not even Australian. I'm gone.
Crap, the damsel is watching me. Maybe I can scare the big SOB away. I'll just stomp though the bushes and run it off and act like I'm trying to catch it. That'll impress her.
Stomp
Stomp
Stomp
Jesus! I can see it! It is pretty big. It's no anaconda but still. "Shew! Go away!" I think to myself. Show no fear! Where did it go? Thank god! It is gone. Now I just have to make like I'm trying to catch the thing for awhile and maybe it really will go away. I order a bucket so she thinks I'm actually going to pick the scary thing up and take it away. Doubt it!
I make like I'm hunting the snake for a really long time. No sign of him. I then sit down for awhile "to let it get comfortable again so I can catch it". Right. Stomping around again to really scare it off. It seems to work! Snake is gone and it is time to leave! Whew! Close call. I really don't want to pee my pants in front of people. Especially the fair damsel.
We are set to exit the building and my spidey sense starts pinging away. I have a beautifully honed sense of self preservation!
So there I was...staring right at the dreaded serpent coiled beneath the stairs. The stairs we have to pass to get to the car. Everybody sees me...see it. Nothing I can do now. The fair damsel will not be satisfied with anything less than vindication and I am the knight to slay the dragon. Like it or not. I have to live around here after all.
I order a...a...what do you call the guys who help the knights? Wait a moment while google does it's magic. Ah! A page and then an esquire! Yes I send my acting esquire to roust the dragon from it's lair. If it doesn't work I can always blame the esquire that's what they are really there for after all.
Holy crap! It works! The dragon must be 4 feet long and black as the night! This dragon is fast boys and girls no joke! I can't back down now all eyes are on me! The chase is on! Maybe it can get away again!
So there I was in the bush. Again. Chasing around the fastest damn snake I've ever seen. "You're too slow TC!" Cries the fair maiden! "It's too damn fast!" I think as I turn to look at her hands up saying, "what do you want me to do?" The esquire is all over it though damn him!
"There it is! In the tree!" He says, from a safe distance away. I don't really want to fight the dragon in a friggin tree I can tell you that with certainty! The dragon is only in the tree for a moment though as it circles it ten or twenty time in half a second and throws itself through the air back into the bush. The bush I'm in.
So there I was in the bush. With the dragon. The dragon that I now know can fly if it wishes to. There is also an audience now. Perfect. The esquire is doing his job far to well and I may actually have to catch this thing. I am running it down tiring it out. Maybe it's tiring me out. I'm really not sure at this point. Besides the only way to get out of this now is for one of us to die. It may be me. Wait! Where did it go!!
"Esquire! Where art the serpent?"
"It went that way!" Esquire says.
"He went under the air conditioner!" A spectator yells! Thank god.
"Well heck." I say secretly hopeful the melee is over for good.
Stomp
Stomp
Stomp
Playing the part. I act like I'm looking under the air conditioner. Looking diligently around. Hoping the sneaky snake is sneaking away. Far away. Alas this is not to be.
So there I was almost free from the task set to me by a fair princess locked in her tower by fear. Escorted out and ran down I think we can leave now and give the fearsome creature space to vacate. No. The fair princess wishes to speak to the peasants who have gathered for the festivities. "Come on princess...we must make haste lest the dragon try again." I silently plead. One simply cannot look like a coward. I see the dreaded beast again! Damn him!! He is not hiding! He is not vacating! He is simply waiting for me.
So there I was in the bush, the serpent waiting for another chance to consume me on a peasant's patio. "Oh esquire! I see him!" Esquire comes a running. Of course. I only need him there in case things continue to go astray. Blame. I decide one of us must now die and I then harden my reserve.
Into battle I must go! I tell the esquire that he should stand back resolving to kill or be killed and there is no room for blame on the open battle field. The dragon has chosen the field well but there are no trees on the patio. No bushes either. Just the hissing serpent and me. Maybe I can simply step on it's head and be done with it.
Simplifying the matter does NOT work and I get rebuffed with several vicious attacks. Backing carefully giving little ground I chance a glance toward the fair princess and see her. I see her and the crowd of peasants with a collective breath held and eyes wide in terror. I shall not fail. I must save the maiden and all those that love life. I must vanquish the dragon.
I attempt another stomp and just as the serpent tries to gain a little more ground for another vicious attach I strike! I seize the serpent by the tail! It does not like that. It does not like that at all! Spitting and striking and fighting and if Harry Potter were there he would have heard it cussing, no doubt! I then make my killing stroke. Inglorious. Yes. Still I get the job done by swinging the serpent back over my head into a thankfully strong window (total accident), followed quickly by a forward stroke onto the air conditioner. That did the trick. Then, for show of course, a few more snaps.
So there I was in the bush carrying the carcass of a dead snake to the delight of what must be several thousand spectators. I deposit the snake in the meadow across the street and strut back. A proud victorious knight. Having saved the fair princess I made haste with the excuse to wash by battle bloodied hands into the princess' abode. There I did wash my hands but also cried for a brief moment from fear. I would like to say I wept as well for the vanquished foe but nope, I cried like a little girl because I was scared. I also checked my pants. All good.
So there I was in the car a hero!
They Stumble Around
No one is moving around at 4:00 a.m. The sounds of the night are almost foreign. The darkness broken only by street lights and moon glow. Solitude. This is Albert's second favorite time of the day.
Dawn is his number one favorite time. Albert believes that to see the birth of a new day is something sacred and should be experienced alone. Sunsets are for thousands of couples everywhere but the sunrise, the sunrise isn't seen by most. The dawn is rarely watched and doesn't usually have that romantic feel to it. His ex-wife and the man who took his family probably are not enjoying the sunrise. It is his, perhaps his alone.
Albert's day begins in solitude. He wakes, showers, gets dressed, has breakfast and takes coffee and lunch to work. Albert works at a golf course. He mows the greens. It is a very early job because golfers like to play their game early. Albert must be finished before the golfers start.
When Albert arrives he opens the equipment barn and checks his machine for fuel, makes sure he has his coffee and flashlight and then begins the first half of his day. In darkness. He then rides his machine in solitude. Usually not total solitude though. A little while after Albert begins work others arrive and begin their assigned tasks, it takes many people to operate a golf course.
Albert usually sees the person tasked with setting up the course. This involves cutting new holes in the greens, changing the tee locations, and making sure the water coolers for the golfers are fresh.
Albert usually sees at least one or two other vehicles on the road on the way to work. A bread delivery truck or a lone car. Not today. No one today.
Albert sometimes sees another employee who arrived early for coffee. Not today. No one today.
"Well these greens won't mow themselves", Albert says to no one. He cranks the engine and heads to the first green.
Along the way Albert looks at the sky. He likes to keep track of the moon phases and he has seen shooting stars. Brilliant streaks of destruction and no one else to see the greatness that Albert witnesses but is clearly not a part of. Albert is small. The moon is right on track of course.
There are no lights on in any of the homes along the golf course. Usually, by now, there are a few early risers, making coffee and watching the early morning news, but not watching the sunrise. Not today. No one today.
"This really is a lonely morning." Albert thinks.
Then his mind wonders to a conversation he had with his son, Will, one they had entertained themselves with many times, about the zombie apocalypse.
Will was named after Albert's former father-in-law and though Albert would like to see William zombiefied, he was lost with out Will. Albert is, was, a good father and listened and learned many things about zombies and what one could expect when the zombie apocalypse came.
"True zombies are the dead that came back to life Dad. They stumble around and aren't too smart because their brains are rotting away." Will said," There are also the virus type zombies, the runners. Still not too smart but way smarter than the dead guys. The runners are much more dangerous."
Still Albert has seen no other human activity. None. Albert's mind wonders.
It is time to empty the grass clippings. The clippings are usually spread out on unused grass areas around the course, near wooded or wet-lands. Albert drives the machine off the path toward the border of the golf course and the woods, shuts down the machine and before he gets down, he catches himself having a careful look around. He empties the catch bins, then back on the machine to cut the next green.
"The best way to kill a zombie Dad, is to shoot them in the head but you have to make sure it kills them." Will said. "The Shufflers want to eat you and if they don't eat all of you then you die and turn into one of them. The Runners are ragers, they want to kill you and everything else too. Remember Dad, the runners are diseased and you can catch it too! So when the Zombie Apocalypse comes you gotta be ready!"
Albert's mind wonders. He thinks,"I can't shoot a zombie in the head right now, I don't have a gun, but I can go get a machete or a pitchfork from the equipment barn". He checked his flashlight again. Then Albert carefully looked around for any sign of human life, again. None. No zombies either.
"There are lights so the power grid is still up, there should still be fresh water then. I better make sure I get plenty of water gathered up when I get back to the barn." Albert thinks.
"Could it have gotten everybody overnight? Will said it can spread very fast. I better listen to the news as soon as I'm finished, if there is anybody left on TV"
Albert has to empty the catch bins again, he's about halfway finished and he still has seen no one, dead or alive. Again he gets off the machine and carefully looks around. He sees no one. Albert quickly empties the catch bins and gets back on the machine.
Albert hasn't even noticed a bunny rabbit or an armadillo. "Do animals turn into zombies too?" He wonders.
Still, Albert does his job. He's very dependable. Unless he is turned into a zombie before he's finished then the greens will be cut and ready for golf. Even if nobody ever golfs again.
Albert looks to the sky like he often does only this time he's looking for airplanes. He scans the sky very carefully. Nope. Nothing. Strange.
Albert, for the first time in his life, wishes he had a cell phone. But then, who would he call at this hour? Will? Better not. Can't anyway. He could call the police station though. If they weren't zombified yet they would surely answer. If the police station did not answer what would that mean? Albert added that to the growing list of things he would do when he got back to the barn.
"If I make it back," Albert thinks.
Albert goes though the check list of things to do when he gets back to the equipment barn. Get as much water, and fuel as he can. The fuel is not his and he worries about stealing but then he knows that there will be nobody to fire him or arrest him for that matter. It does not yet occur to Albert that he won't have a job anymore. Call the police station. Get weapons and tools. First stop after that is the gun store.
Albert is glad he still drives that old Suburban. Albert will fill it with things he might need.
Seven greens mowed perfectly. Dawn is upon him and Albert hopes it is not the last he will ever see. Albert is ready though, to spend the rest of his life alone.
"I can kill zombies. They are already dead after all." Albert says aloud. Even if there was anybody around they could not hear him over the greens mower.
"If I survived then others must have as well. I could try to gather them up, go on the road. Go get Will. Maybe out west to the desert. Not many people out there." Albert thinks.
"Better get a generator too," Albert thinks,"The electricity won't stay on forever."
Golf courses usually start and end at the club house. The ninth hole next to the first one. Albert is almost finished with the eighth green. He will empty the catch bins once more then come around the cart path toward the ninth green. Albert knows that if the zombie apocalypse started he will be sure about it in about two minutes. There is always golfers and golf carts lined up by the starter shack next to the club house waiting their turn to tee off the first hole.
Albert empties the three bins.
Albert climbs back on the machine and puts it in gear.
Albert drives down the cart path.
Albert makes the final turn.
Albert sees them.
Albert mows the final green. He then stops at the starter shack as he usually does to buy a soda from the little snack bar.
"Hey Albert! Good Morning. Nice weather for golf ey?" The starter asks Albert.
"Yep, another fine day." Albert said. He looks around at the golfer preparing for another morning on the golf course. Again.
Albert gets back to the equipment barn with his soda and begins to wash his mower. "They are all zombies. They don't know it but they are. I saw them. They are already dead. They are the living dead, just like Will said. They stumble around and aren't too smart because their brains are rotting away." Albert thinks," Maybe I am too."
"It's time to go out west anyway. There aren't that many people out there." Albert said to nobody as he parked his mower just right in the equipment barn for the last time.
Dawn is his number one favorite time. Albert believes that to see the birth of a new day is something sacred and should be experienced alone. Sunsets are for thousands of couples everywhere but the sunrise, the sunrise isn't seen by most. The dawn is rarely watched and doesn't usually have that romantic feel to it. His ex-wife and the man who took his family probably are not enjoying the sunrise. It is his, perhaps his alone.
Albert's day begins in solitude. He wakes, showers, gets dressed, has breakfast and takes coffee and lunch to work. Albert works at a golf course. He mows the greens. It is a very early job because golfers like to play their game early. Albert must be finished before the golfers start.
When Albert arrives he opens the equipment barn and checks his machine for fuel, makes sure he has his coffee and flashlight and then begins the first half of his day. In darkness. He then rides his machine in solitude. Usually not total solitude though. A little while after Albert begins work others arrive and begin their assigned tasks, it takes many people to operate a golf course.
Albert usually sees the person tasked with setting up the course. This involves cutting new holes in the greens, changing the tee locations, and making sure the water coolers for the golfers are fresh.
Albert usually sees at least one or two other vehicles on the road on the way to work. A bread delivery truck or a lone car. Not today. No one today.
Albert sometimes sees another employee who arrived early for coffee. Not today. No one today.
"Well these greens won't mow themselves", Albert says to no one. He cranks the engine and heads to the first green.
Along the way Albert looks at the sky. He likes to keep track of the moon phases and he has seen shooting stars. Brilliant streaks of destruction and no one else to see the greatness that Albert witnesses but is clearly not a part of. Albert is small. The moon is right on track of course.
There are no lights on in any of the homes along the golf course. Usually, by now, there are a few early risers, making coffee and watching the early morning news, but not watching the sunrise. Not today. No one today.
"This really is a lonely morning." Albert thinks.
Then his mind wonders to a conversation he had with his son, Will, one they had entertained themselves with many times, about the zombie apocalypse.
Will was named after Albert's former father-in-law and though Albert would like to see William zombiefied, he was lost with out Will. Albert is, was, a good father and listened and learned many things about zombies and what one could expect when the zombie apocalypse came.
"True zombies are the dead that came back to life Dad. They stumble around and aren't too smart because their brains are rotting away." Will said," There are also the virus type zombies, the runners. Still not too smart but way smarter than the dead guys. The runners are much more dangerous."
Still Albert has seen no other human activity. None. Albert's mind wonders.
It is time to empty the grass clippings. The clippings are usually spread out on unused grass areas around the course, near wooded or wet-lands. Albert drives the machine off the path toward the border of the golf course and the woods, shuts down the machine and before he gets down, he catches himself having a careful look around. He empties the catch bins, then back on the machine to cut the next green.
"The best way to kill a zombie Dad, is to shoot them in the head but you have to make sure it kills them." Will said. "The Shufflers want to eat you and if they don't eat all of you then you die and turn into one of them. The Runners are ragers, they want to kill you and everything else too. Remember Dad, the runners are diseased and you can catch it too! So when the Zombie Apocalypse comes you gotta be ready!"
Albert's mind wonders. He thinks,"I can't shoot a zombie in the head right now, I don't have a gun, but I can go get a machete or a pitchfork from the equipment barn". He checked his flashlight again. Then Albert carefully looked around for any sign of human life, again. None. No zombies either.
"There are lights so the power grid is still up, there should still be fresh water then. I better make sure I get plenty of water gathered up when I get back to the barn." Albert thinks.
"Could it have gotten everybody overnight? Will said it can spread very fast. I better listen to the news as soon as I'm finished, if there is anybody left on TV"
Albert has to empty the catch bins again, he's about halfway finished and he still has seen no one, dead or alive. Again he gets off the machine and carefully looks around. He sees no one. Albert quickly empties the catch bins and gets back on the machine.
Albert hasn't even noticed a bunny rabbit or an armadillo. "Do animals turn into zombies too?" He wonders.
Still, Albert does his job. He's very dependable. Unless he is turned into a zombie before he's finished then the greens will be cut and ready for golf. Even if nobody ever golfs again.
Albert looks to the sky like he often does only this time he's looking for airplanes. He scans the sky very carefully. Nope. Nothing. Strange.
Albert, for the first time in his life, wishes he had a cell phone. But then, who would he call at this hour? Will? Better not. Can't anyway. He could call the police station though. If they weren't zombified yet they would surely answer. If the police station did not answer what would that mean? Albert added that to the growing list of things he would do when he got back to the barn.
"If I make it back," Albert thinks.
Albert goes though the check list of things to do when he gets back to the equipment barn. Get as much water, and fuel as he can. The fuel is not his and he worries about stealing but then he knows that there will be nobody to fire him or arrest him for that matter. It does not yet occur to Albert that he won't have a job anymore. Call the police station. Get weapons and tools. First stop after that is the gun store.
Albert is glad he still drives that old Suburban. Albert will fill it with things he might need.
Seven greens mowed perfectly. Dawn is upon him and Albert hopes it is not the last he will ever see. Albert is ready though, to spend the rest of his life alone.
"I can kill zombies. They are already dead after all." Albert says aloud. Even if there was anybody around they could not hear him over the greens mower.
"If I survived then others must have as well. I could try to gather them up, go on the road. Go get Will. Maybe out west to the desert. Not many people out there." Albert thinks.
"Better get a generator too," Albert thinks,"The electricity won't stay on forever."
Golf courses usually start and end at the club house. The ninth hole next to the first one. Albert is almost finished with the eighth green. He will empty the catch bins once more then come around the cart path toward the ninth green. Albert knows that if the zombie apocalypse started he will be sure about it in about two minutes. There is always golfers and golf carts lined up by the starter shack next to the club house waiting their turn to tee off the first hole.
Albert empties the three bins.
Albert climbs back on the machine and puts it in gear.
Albert drives down the cart path.
Albert makes the final turn.
Albert sees them.
Albert mows the final green. He then stops at the starter shack as he usually does to buy a soda from the little snack bar.
"Hey Albert! Good Morning. Nice weather for golf ey?" The starter asks Albert.
"Yep, another fine day." Albert said. He looks around at the golfer preparing for another morning on the golf course. Again.
Albert gets back to the equipment barn with his soda and begins to wash his mower. "They are all zombies. They don't know it but they are. I saw them. They are already dead. They are the living dead, just like Will said. They stumble around and aren't too smart because their brains are rotting away." Albert thinks," Maybe I am too."
"It's time to go out west anyway. There aren't that many people out there." Albert said to nobody as he parked his mower just right in the equipment barn for the last time.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Skeletons, Closets, and it really is a small world.
I'm sitting at one of the two lunch tables watching two guys eat chicken. A father and son, both eating chicken out of a plastic container warmed in the microwave. Picking at it like you should while eating chicken. There's not one half a napkin between them. Just rubbing their hands on their clothing, both of them. The son eating just like his daddy taught him. Oh well.
Speaking of eating chicken, or crow rather, let me tell you a story about a wife and her husband. I have been asked to change the names to protect the guilty so; we'll call her "Cathy" or "C" for short. The husband we will call "Jack" or "J" for short as well.
C owned a sports bar on Main Street in downtown... um, let's say Cheesburg, got it? It was named something like "On Lookers". J was her bartender and they obviously met and eventually, eventually, married. They now have a house and a mess of kids.
Recently C has found time to participate in some school activities and one of those activities is a play of sorts, we'll call it a play. There C met another mom who was also helping out and became friendly. Nice woman, nice kids and it is hard to meet both these days. C is happy. She likes the woman. The woman's name is Amy. C doesn't have many people she calls her friends. Let's see, there's me, I think, and maybe even my wife. There may be another one or two but they slip my mind right now.
On the day of the play J comes around to watch. This is very unusual because when it comes to school activities, that man is Houdini. J is there and after the play he comes over to the ladies and patiently waits for C to introduce him to her new friend. C does the introduction and both parties are pleasant and forthcoming with the please-to-meet-chas and so forth. Then J smiles at C in his special sort of smile he saves for rare occasions.
A few minutes later, alone, C asks J what that was all about. He just smiled again. I think one could call it a "Cheshire Cat" smile. I have seen that smile before and learned from experience that one should proceed with caution, if one is foolish enough to proceed at all. C proceeds. C asks again, a little more serious this time and J smiles and asks the woman's name again and C says,"Amy, why?"
Another Cheshire smile. He also does this thing with his eyes while he waits for you to catch up. "What's her name?"
"Amy!"
"Right, Amy"
C begins to realize, slowly, what J is getting at. C is no dummy, but there is no way, no way what she begins to realize could be true.
J just stands there. Cheshiring, if you will.
C says,"No way!"
J chuckles,"Oh yeah, way."
"That can't be the same Amy!" C says.
"It is, the same Amy," the cat says. Grinning even bigger if possible because he now has someone in there with him, you know what I mean?
"Well I have to get back to work. See you later sweetie." J says and sort of struts away.
C just stood there. Is she really friends with J's ex-girlfriend? Afraid so.
After few minutes of stunned silence while C wondered about the cosmos and the jokes it is willing to play on people, she asked Amy if she remembered J. Amy said she remembered C, but not J.
"Well, he's your ex-boy friend."
Of all people, C wonders. She really likes this woman but she used to hate her.
Later in the day, at another school event where Houdini did not show, she told me the story. She had been doing the math all afternoon trying to figure the odds of meeting a befriending the only other woman in J's life in Florida, the southeast, the entire eastern side of the country.
I am sure J is still smiling and strutting.
There are no odds C. It is a small world and the skeletons get restless in the closet. Perhaps one should take friends as they come and husbands too. Everybody has a past.
Speaking of eating chicken, or crow rather, let me tell you a story about a wife and her husband. I have been asked to change the names to protect the guilty so; we'll call her "Cathy" or "C" for short. The husband we will call "Jack" or "J" for short as well.
C owned a sports bar on Main Street in downtown... um, let's say Cheesburg, got it? It was named something like "On Lookers". J was her bartender and they obviously met and eventually, eventually, married. They now have a house and a mess of kids.
Recently C has found time to participate in some school activities and one of those activities is a play of sorts, we'll call it a play. There C met another mom who was also helping out and became friendly. Nice woman, nice kids and it is hard to meet both these days. C is happy. She likes the woman. The woman's name is Amy. C doesn't have many people she calls her friends. Let's see, there's me, I think, and maybe even my wife. There may be another one or two but they slip my mind right now.
On the day of the play J comes around to watch. This is very unusual because when it comes to school activities, that man is Houdini. J is there and after the play he comes over to the ladies and patiently waits for C to introduce him to her new friend. C does the introduction and both parties are pleasant and forthcoming with the please-to-meet-chas and so forth. Then J smiles at C in his special sort of smile he saves for rare occasions.
A few minutes later, alone, C asks J what that was all about. He just smiled again. I think one could call it a "Cheshire Cat" smile. I have seen that smile before and learned from experience that one should proceed with caution, if one is foolish enough to proceed at all. C proceeds. C asks again, a little more serious this time and J smiles and asks the woman's name again and C says,"Amy, why?"
Another Cheshire smile. He also does this thing with his eyes while he waits for you to catch up. "What's her name?"
"Amy!"
"Right, Amy"
C begins to realize, slowly, what J is getting at. C is no dummy, but there is no way, no way what she begins to realize could be true.
J just stands there. Cheshiring, if you will.
C says,"No way!"
J chuckles,"Oh yeah, way."
"That can't be the same Amy!" C says.
"It is, the same Amy," the cat says. Grinning even bigger if possible because he now has someone in there with him, you know what I mean?
"Well I have to get back to work. See you later sweetie." J says and sort of struts away.
C just stood there. Is she really friends with J's ex-girlfriend? Afraid so.
After few minutes of stunned silence while C wondered about the cosmos and the jokes it is willing to play on people, she asked Amy if she remembered J. Amy said she remembered C, but not J.
"Well, he's your ex-boy friend."
Of all people, C wonders. She really likes this woman but she used to hate her.
Later in the day, at another school event where Houdini did not show, she told me the story. She had been doing the math all afternoon trying to figure the odds of meeting a befriending the only other woman in J's life in Florida, the southeast, the entire eastern side of the country.
I am sure J is still smiling and strutting.
There are no odds C. It is a small world and the skeletons get restless in the closet. Perhaps one should take friends as they come and husbands too. Everybody has a past.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
They are Next
It is Tuesday night 6:00 p.m. and I'm feeling in poor health and buzzing by lack of sleep, moody, cranky, and sad. While my youngest daughter plays the sax at the middle school football game, my oldest daughter and I are at a meeting about class rings. My oldest daughter is sixteen and a junior. As a man, a grown man, I have a hard time thinking up a larger waste of money. As a father it would be nice to be able to to afford one for her. As an under-employeed former construction manager it is all moot because the funds to purchase this luxury just doesn't exist.
My daughter is holding out hope though, bless her heart. She's at the table right now with her more fortunate friends pondering choices- ring styles and stone cuts. She does deserve one. Her older brother didn't get one, didn't want one.
I'm here embarrassed, the only parent not in line or thumbing through the catalog( also the only father in the room). She knows I can't afford it. She doesn't know how much it breaks my heart for her.
"Form three lines!" the school superintendent says.
"Get your check books ready!" he says again smiling...at me.
One look at him and you know him. Never been broke, poor, hungry. Never been to a single place where he's ever feared for his life, or wallet. Doesn't know how close he is right now to getting punched in the mouth, the spoiled arrogant asshole.
You know he was never popular but was successful in school, his whole life in school. Never a star athlete, maybe participated in something lame, like...track, but now he runs this school. He's probably fired people due to budget cuts but probably has not been effected in the least by the recession. Guys like that believe those who have been effected deserve it: didn't study enough, not smart enough, not good enough.
But those who have been effected will make it and be what he will never understand. We will be survivors. We will win. He will not be stronger for these times. We, I, will be unstoppable. His spoiled bratty kids won't learn anything. Our children will be next greatest generation.
My sixteen year old daughter, without her class ring will have more life, soul, and responsibility. They will be next. They will be great regardless of how many video games they play, regardless of how much they txt.
They too will be survivors and there is no one anywhere stronger or better than a survivor.
I am proud of her.
My daughter is holding out hope though, bless her heart. She's at the table right now with her more fortunate friends pondering choices- ring styles and stone cuts. She does deserve one. Her older brother didn't get one, didn't want one.
I'm here embarrassed, the only parent not in line or thumbing through the catalog( also the only father in the room). She knows I can't afford it. She doesn't know how much it breaks my heart for her.
"Form three lines!" the school superintendent says.
"Get your check books ready!" he says again smiling...at me.
One look at him and you know him. Never been broke, poor, hungry. Never been to a single place where he's ever feared for his life, or wallet. Doesn't know how close he is right now to getting punched in the mouth, the spoiled arrogant asshole.
You know he was never popular but was successful in school, his whole life in school. Never a star athlete, maybe participated in something lame, like...track, but now he runs this school. He's probably fired people due to budget cuts but probably has not been effected in the least by the recession. Guys like that believe those who have been effected deserve it: didn't study enough, not smart enough, not good enough.
But those who have been effected will make it and be what he will never understand. We will be survivors. We will win. He will not be stronger for these times. We, I, will be unstoppable. His spoiled bratty kids won't learn anything. Our children will be next greatest generation.
My sixteen year old daughter, without her class ring will have more life, soul, and responsibility. They will be next. They will be great regardless of how many video games they play, regardless of how much they txt.
They too will be survivors and there is no one anywhere stronger or better than a survivor.
I am proud of her.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Planes Aren't Angry and Buildings Aren't Innocent.
The High School band was to march with much of the community to commemorate 9/11. The march, really a walk, around a small lake and through a good part of the town was scheduled to start after some speeches and before a nice cook out. India and the rest of the band stood around, restlessly, in their plain black uniforms and berets looking like a rather large group of not quite ready french mimes. Unlike mimes though the band had a very hard time keeping anything close to quiet.
India thought about how hot and miserable it was in the early afternoon dressed all in black looking like a mine, she in fact mimed to her dad that she sooo hot by waving her hand at her face like a makeshift not very effective fan, like the kind fat ladies in church used to use in the old days. Her dad nodded to her in acknowledgment with a bemused look on his face. No one shared in the humor and Dad wondered how nobody else was getting the loud non-mime, miming. Too subtle he thought, to much going on.
There were many things going on, or so it appeared, but after walking around City Hall for ten minutes visiting the sparse and sad collection of vendor's booths one who was really paying attention realized there was really nothing to do but wait. Being the first time that India and her dad attended such an event, they didn't know what they were waiting for. India had that frenetic energy freshmen high school children always have when they are doing anything out of the ordinary, before they realize later in life how ordinary it really was. She was excited, the whole band was and they were swarming together like bees. Hot, black bees. Dad and other adults gave up on hoping to find anything of interest in any of the booths or in City Hall, where every adult at least walked through looking for a little air conditioned relief but found none. Dad hoped that City Hall was usually air conditioned because if not then the idea of a city job being a good job would be bunk.
India's dad knew what he was waiting on, he was waiting for the event to end so that he could simply go home, which was the last place India was thinking about right now. She was waiting for the march, the show, the first time the new band was going to march, but not the last. Dad, a veteran, had long given up the notion of patriotism and knew that most, not all, of it was marketing. Still they were here for a memorial and he was a trooper. Besides, he thought hopefully, if there is no relief from the sweltering heat soon India would start to beg to go home regardless of the excitement of the moment. If nothing else India was certainly practical and she does not like to be too hot. Dad thought that the heat may work for him today. The more she waved that ineffective fan the better. Then again maybe the food will be worth it, sometimes one gets a pleasant surprise at events such as these.
Speaking today is the local mayor, a sort of beefy looking lady the kind who has glasses hanging around her neck on a chain and hammed up the country small town image by saying "Ya'll" constantly. Following her is to be the local State Representative, just a man in a suit. Dad had never heard of either of them but then this was the next town over and not his district.
The ceremony was set to begin after what seemed like five or six hours but was probably only thirty minutes. The band quieted down and formed up and the band parents, who kind of congregated together near the front steps of City Hall making small talk about how hot it was, eventually quieted down as well. The National Anthem played first but not with out problems, eventually whoever was running what Dad thought just had to be a cassette deck figured out the proper sequence of switches and the music played loud. Too loud. It would seem the organizers hoped that anywhere between ten and fifteen thousand locals where going to attend instead of the two hundred, twenty five of which were band parents. Hats came off and hands went to chests, some "hoorah" types even saluted, keeping their hats on. Dad thought those were probably the bald guys.
Most people stared, eyes fixed, at Old Glory religiously, not Dad. India's dad did what he always does and looked at the people. He found jaded amusement in watching people during these ritualistic moments. Right next to him a little girl asked her mother what the flag next to the American flag was. Alright good question. The Answer? "I don't know honey. It must be the town's flag". Dad's eyebrows went up a little and his eyes kind of flickered back and forth and he said I'm sorry but that is the State of Florida's flag. Oh. Really? Yes ma'am, really. Oh.
The way too loud music finally subsided and the marching band went to parade rest and hats went back on heads and the bald dropped their salutes and hands came off chests and tears were wiped off the most patriotic of faces.
The mayor made her way to the podium, she began by telling the crowd that the state rep would speak next and then she reached for her glasses dangling around her neck on the fake gold chain and took out her piece of paper that she probably worked on for days. All Dad heard her say over and over was "ya'll". Upstaged by herself he thought laughing inside. She finished her country speech and stepped off the podium and walked away right though the middle of the crowd and was almost to the stairs of City Hall before she stopped turned around and returned to the podium to introduce the Representative. The rep she, in her speech fervor, momentarily completely forgot about. This is getting good thought Dad, and the band continued to stand in parade rest. India's shoulders sagging a little bit, hot.
Now the State Representative is a politician. Dad hoped he was a good one, he hoped India would get to see and here a professional speaker step up to a podium on a vital issue and just blow everybody away. That didn't happen. Dad had heard good speeches before and to be fair this one was not bad. Hell, the guy didn't have to do too much though, the crowd of small town country folks was already keyed up after the buffeting of the Anthem and it was after all, a 9/11 memorial ceremony. It would have been easy enough for this guy to push the crowd over the top. Instead he laid up. The speech did have its moments though and not bad...until the end.
He closed the speech by recalling the events of that horrible day and tried to rally the crowd and actually said with a rising voice,"When those angry planes flew into those innocent buildings". What? Wait, what? Did he just say angry planes and innocent buildings? He did didn't he. Dad asked the same band mother who didn't know the state's flag. She said yep, why? Nothing dear. Never mind.
Did anybody hear it? Oh yeah! Everybody heard it! Thundering applause! Good for the state guy. Dad was now thoroughly entertained but sadly could not find anybody else who realized he just gave objects personality traits with out simile. Maybe it isn't such a big deal he thought maybe he expected too much from the guy. Heck no! That guy is a professional. To Dad he was like your home team losing. Again. He was happy that the small town rally did not pull any news coverage, then again it would have been nice to have video. After asking s couple of people who just looked at him blankly Dad was worried that the gem was lost. It WAS lost on the crowd but there should have been some who he could have at least giggled with. Nope.
After the speeches the band was called to attention. The memorial walk began. Thirty minutes later it was over and everyone felt that they did their part to remember a tragic day in recent history. Time to eat. The band put away their instruments and relaxed a little, a good job done and there was new life in India's face. They were given permission to remove their black over jackets and Dad knew it was still going to be awhile before he would be able to drag India away.
The food was not bad, not great, not bad. There was plenty and there was something to drink and they were in the shade on the City Hall property. The community kids and the band kids and what must have been other kids bused in just to eat where running around raising all kind of hell and the trash cans filled up with paper plates, styrofoam cups, and napkins. Band parents where looking around for their kids and their kids were trying to make plans to go home with other kids. The hick mayor was not in site and the air conditioning was probably running in City Hall, and the State guy was probably half way back to Tallahasee. Dad was talking to some other parents, full, quenched, and finally, with a breeze, comfortable.
That was when India hugged her dad and said she was still hot and ready to go, then she pulled back and said Dad! Did you here that second guy's speech? He said that the planes were angry and the buildings were innocent and that's not right is it? People are angry and innocent not buildings, and I'm tired. Can we go? Yeah Baby, we can go!
India thought about how hot and miserable it was in the early afternoon dressed all in black looking like a mine, she in fact mimed to her dad that she sooo hot by waving her hand at her face like a makeshift not very effective fan, like the kind fat ladies in church used to use in the old days. Her dad nodded to her in acknowledgment with a bemused look on his face. No one shared in the humor and Dad wondered how nobody else was getting the loud non-mime, miming. Too subtle he thought, to much going on.
There were many things going on, or so it appeared, but after walking around City Hall for ten minutes visiting the sparse and sad collection of vendor's booths one who was really paying attention realized there was really nothing to do but wait. Being the first time that India and her dad attended such an event, they didn't know what they were waiting for. India had that frenetic energy freshmen high school children always have when they are doing anything out of the ordinary, before they realize later in life how ordinary it really was. She was excited, the whole band was and they were swarming together like bees. Hot, black bees. Dad and other adults gave up on hoping to find anything of interest in any of the booths or in City Hall, where every adult at least walked through looking for a little air conditioned relief but found none. Dad hoped that City Hall was usually air conditioned because if not then the idea of a city job being a good job would be bunk.
India's dad knew what he was waiting on, he was waiting for the event to end so that he could simply go home, which was the last place India was thinking about right now. She was waiting for the march, the show, the first time the new band was going to march, but not the last. Dad, a veteran, had long given up the notion of patriotism and knew that most, not all, of it was marketing. Still they were here for a memorial and he was a trooper. Besides, he thought hopefully, if there is no relief from the sweltering heat soon India would start to beg to go home regardless of the excitement of the moment. If nothing else India was certainly practical and she does not like to be too hot. Dad thought that the heat may work for him today. The more she waved that ineffective fan the better. Then again maybe the food will be worth it, sometimes one gets a pleasant surprise at events such as these.
Speaking today is the local mayor, a sort of beefy looking lady the kind who has glasses hanging around her neck on a chain and hammed up the country small town image by saying "Ya'll" constantly. Following her is to be the local State Representative, just a man in a suit. Dad had never heard of either of them but then this was the next town over and not his district.
The ceremony was set to begin after what seemed like five or six hours but was probably only thirty minutes. The band quieted down and formed up and the band parents, who kind of congregated together near the front steps of City Hall making small talk about how hot it was, eventually quieted down as well. The National Anthem played first but not with out problems, eventually whoever was running what Dad thought just had to be a cassette deck figured out the proper sequence of switches and the music played loud. Too loud. It would seem the organizers hoped that anywhere between ten and fifteen thousand locals where going to attend instead of the two hundred, twenty five of which were band parents. Hats came off and hands went to chests, some "hoorah" types even saluted, keeping their hats on. Dad thought those were probably the bald guys.
Most people stared, eyes fixed, at Old Glory religiously, not Dad. India's dad did what he always does and looked at the people. He found jaded amusement in watching people during these ritualistic moments. Right next to him a little girl asked her mother what the flag next to the American flag was. Alright good question. The Answer? "I don't know honey. It must be the town's flag". Dad's eyebrows went up a little and his eyes kind of flickered back and forth and he said I'm sorry but that is the State of Florida's flag. Oh. Really? Yes ma'am, really. Oh.
The way too loud music finally subsided and the marching band went to parade rest and hats went back on heads and the bald dropped their salutes and hands came off chests and tears were wiped off the most patriotic of faces.
The mayor made her way to the podium, she began by telling the crowd that the state rep would speak next and then she reached for her glasses dangling around her neck on the fake gold chain and took out her piece of paper that she probably worked on for days. All Dad heard her say over and over was "ya'll". Upstaged by herself he thought laughing inside. She finished her country speech and stepped off the podium and walked away right though the middle of the crowd and was almost to the stairs of City Hall before she stopped turned around and returned to the podium to introduce the Representative. The rep she, in her speech fervor, momentarily completely forgot about. This is getting good thought Dad, and the band continued to stand in parade rest. India's shoulders sagging a little bit, hot.
Now the State Representative is a politician. Dad hoped he was a good one, he hoped India would get to see and here a professional speaker step up to a podium on a vital issue and just blow everybody away. That didn't happen. Dad had heard good speeches before and to be fair this one was not bad. Hell, the guy didn't have to do too much though, the crowd of small town country folks was already keyed up after the buffeting of the Anthem and it was after all, a 9/11 memorial ceremony. It would have been easy enough for this guy to push the crowd over the top. Instead he laid up. The speech did have its moments though and not bad...until the end.
He closed the speech by recalling the events of that horrible day and tried to rally the crowd and actually said with a rising voice,"When those angry planes flew into those innocent buildings". What? Wait, what? Did he just say angry planes and innocent buildings? He did didn't he. Dad asked the same band mother who didn't know the state's flag. She said yep, why? Nothing dear. Never mind.
Did anybody hear it? Oh yeah! Everybody heard it! Thundering applause! Good for the state guy. Dad was now thoroughly entertained but sadly could not find anybody else who realized he just gave objects personality traits with out simile. Maybe it isn't such a big deal he thought maybe he expected too much from the guy. Heck no! That guy is a professional. To Dad he was like your home team losing. Again. He was happy that the small town rally did not pull any news coverage, then again it would have been nice to have video. After asking s couple of people who just looked at him blankly Dad was worried that the gem was lost. It WAS lost on the crowd but there should have been some who he could have at least giggled with. Nope.
After the speeches the band was called to attention. The memorial walk began. Thirty minutes later it was over and everyone felt that they did their part to remember a tragic day in recent history. Time to eat. The band put away their instruments and relaxed a little, a good job done and there was new life in India's face. They were given permission to remove their black over jackets and Dad knew it was still going to be awhile before he would be able to drag India away.
The food was not bad, not great, not bad. There was plenty and there was something to drink and they were in the shade on the City Hall property. The community kids and the band kids and what must have been other kids bused in just to eat where running around raising all kind of hell and the trash cans filled up with paper plates, styrofoam cups, and napkins. Band parents where looking around for their kids and their kids were trying to make plans to go home with other kids. The hick mayor was not in site and the air conditioning was probably running in City Hall, and the State guy was probably half way back to Tallahasee. Dad was talking to some other parents, full, quenched, and finally, with a breeze, comfortable.
That was when India hugged her dad and said she was still hot and ready to go, then she pulled back and said Dad! Did you here that second guy's speech? He said that the planes were angry and the buildings were innocent and that's not right is it? People are angry and innocent not buildings, and I'm tired. Can we go? Yeah Baby, we can go!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
At least it's over.
Steve picked up the bag and dusted his hand once more before slowly walking back up to the rubber. He's made this trip at least a thousand times maybe more. He sets and looks around the bases at his new team mates. The strain of the moment he loves and fears at the same time. Everyone, everyone is watching.
Johnny digs in. He's ready. Steve tries to out think him again. What pitch will he be looking for? He knows Johnny's good but he can beat him, he has before.
Steve has never seen the stands full before, not even playing college ball but tonight, his first road game, he is not in college, and the stands are full. His parents are even here for this game. There really is a crowd. Don't think about it right now. Just look at the catcher Steve, look at the catcher.
Steve was drafted to play minor league ball a year after John. John came up out of high school and Steve played a couple of years for the local community college and decided at least to start a college degree program. Baseball called. Hard. Steve settled for the time being with an Associates Degree. Johnny has bigger things in mind. For now they are both minor league players.
The catcher signals first pitch fastball low outside. Steve thinks it better be way outside because that's his little brother's favorite pitch, but Steve, a rookie, knows better than to shake off the catcher.
He throws fast.
Low.
Outside.
Way outside, ball one.
Steve hopes the catcher is a quick study because he knows that there is nothing Johnny wants more than to tee one off of Steve and go yard in front of their parents and Johnny's home crowd.
Breaking ball called, breaking ball delivered. John watched it go by. Strike one. Good call blue. He's not gonna like that Steve thinks. Focus. Focus.
Really? Low and outside again. OK. Ball two and the catcher doesn't like being behind in the count. Well neither do I, Steve practically yells out loud, but I'm not letting him hit a homer. Rather walk him.
After a time out and a quick discussion the catcher is on the same page. Thank god.
Fast ball.
High.
Inside.
Strike two.
The count is 2 balls, 2 strikes and what is Johnny looking for now? Steve knows what he's looking for and there is nobody in this packed ballpark that can make him give it to him even if his own mother came down to the mound and begged him.
Another breaking ball. Hangs on the corner and Johnny takes it. Hard, far. Very far.
Foul ball!!
Steve nearly passed out. Time to walk around the mound again. Whew.
Change up? Why not.
Ball three. That's why not. Crap.
Full count and it looks like everybody is on their feet. One pitch. One pitch. Next season Johnny will probably be in the majors. This next pitch will be discussed at the family holiday table for generations.
Fast ball. Low. Inside.
Steve delivers not inside enough but catches a break. Another foul ball.
He knows Johnny will never miss that again.
Fast ball. Of course. High, well it's better than low. Middle? I don't think so. We are going inside catcher.
The wind up.
The pitch. Boy that's blazing.
Crack!
Johnny gets every bit of it! He knew. Of course he knew. He's good. Nobody can hit like Johnny. Is that ball still flying? Steve knows he's going to hear how Johnny knocked the cover off of Steve's pitch the very first time the met on the field against each other.
And an RBI? It's over. Better to just leave town and baseball. Perhaps the Army could use him. That stings. Steve drops his head and sighs deeply. At least it's over he thinks.
The right fielder runs back and back to the warning track and keeps going to the fence. He jumps as high as he can not even really aware of what he's doing and comes down.
With the ball.
Well, at least that's over the right fielder thinks.
Johnny digs in. He's ready. Steve tries to out think him again. What pitch will he be looking for? He knows Johnny's good but he can beat him, he has before.
Steve has never seen the stands full before, not even playing college ball but tonight, his first road game, he is not in college, and the stands are full. His parents are even here for this game. There really is a crowd. Don't think about it right now. Just look at the catcher Steve, look at the catcher.
Steve was drafted to play minor league ball a year after John. John came up out of high school and Steve played a couple of years for the local community college and decided at least to start a college degree program. Baseball called. Hard. Steve settled for the time being with an Associates Degree. Johnny has bigger things in mind. For now they are both minor league players.
The catcher signals first pitch fastball low outside. Steve thinks it better be way outside because that's his little brother's favorite pitch, but Steve, a rookie, knows better than to shake off the catcher.
He throws fast.
Low.
Outside.
Way outside, ball one.
Steve hopes the catcher is a quick study because he knows that there is nothing Johnny wants more than to tee one off of Steve and go yard in front of their parents and Johnny's home crowd.
Breaking ball called, breaking ball delivered. John watched it go by. Strike one. Good call blue. He's not gonna like that Steve thinks. Focus. Focus.
Really? Low and outside again. OK. Ball two and the catcher doesn't like being behind in the count. Well neither do I, Steve practically yells out loud, but I'm not letting him hit a homer. Rather walk him.
After a time out and a quick discussion the catcher is on the same page. Thank god.
Fast ball.
High.
Inside.
Strike two.
The count is 2 balls, 2 strikes and what is Johnny looking for now? Steve knows what he's looking for and there is nobody in this packed ballpark that can make him give it to him even if his own mother came down to the mound and begged him.
Another breaking ball. Hangs on the corner and Johnny takes it. Hard, far. Very far.
Foul ball!!
Steve nearly passed out. Time to walk around the mound again. Whew.
Change up? Why not.
Ball three. That's why not. Crap.
Full count and it looks like everybody is on their feet. One pitch. One pitch. Next season Johnny will probably be in the majors. This next pitch will be discussed at the family holiday table for generations.
Fast ball. Low. Inside.
Steve delivers not inside enough but catches a break. Another foul ball.
He knows Johnny will never miss that again.
Fast ball. Of course. High, well it's better than low. Middle? I don't think so. We are going inside catcher.
The wind up.
The pitch. Boy that's blazing.
Crack!
Johnny gets every bit of it! He knew. Of course he knew. He's good. Nobody can hit like Johnny. Is that ball still flying? Steve knows he's going to hear how Johnny knocked the cover off of Steve's pitch the very first time the met on the field against each other.
And an RBI? It's over. Better to just leave town and baseball. Perhaps the Army could use him. That stings. Steve drops his head and sighs deeply. At least it's over he thinks.
The right fielder runs back and back to the warning track and keeps going to the fence. He jumps as high as he can not even really aware of what he's doing and comes down.
With the ball.
Well, at least that's over the right fielder thinks.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Still Straight
9/4/11
Went to a gay bar tonight. Kimber has a new BFF and I'm out : ) Kegan has a couple of gay friends and we all went out.
I shouldn't have gone with them just because I decided earlier today to get drunk at the pool and set about my goal with zest, meeting it with great success. After getting pissed and stumbling around for awhile at the pool, I changed to water and began to sober up. Of course that left me really too tired to go out but I ate and took a nap and got ready to go and because I don't go out too often, out I went.
It's small place on a back road in Ocala called the "Pub". They have a drag show on Saturday nights but as Laurie pointed out via text message "those Ocala "girls" are burly". Which turned out to be very true.
It was a shame I was too tired because it would have been fun and there was no weird pressure on my side because Kegan was there. They were all over him. He's a young good looking kid. He danced (slow) with a queen...twice. The second dance had some--well, ass rubbing. Very gay, and good for the queen I guess.
Everyone was very nice and the only mistake I think I made was politely lighting the cigarette of an aging and worn out queen who took the opportunity to rub my arm (a little creepily) and asked what was wrong because I didn't look to be enjoying myself. I was enjoying myself a hell of a lot more before that moment I can assure you.
The vast majority of the time I sat at the bar and tried to stay as close as possible to Kimber which proved difficult because she got very involved with Ocala's gay community tonight. I am however, very glad she had such a great time.
All is well and I am still very straight. It was an experience but regret not being rested enough to have more fun.
Apparently most people thought I was scared and though I may have looked it I was not. Mostly.
Batman Forever was on the TV over the bar and I watched most of it. That's the one with Robin and appropriate I think for a gay bar experience.
It is now 20 after 3 a.m. and exhausted I will try to sleep. One second, one minute, one hour...I continue and survive.
Went to a gay bar tonight. Kimber has a new BFF and I'm out : ) Kegan has a couple of gay friends and we all went out.
I shouldn't have gone with them just because I decided earlier today to get drunk at the pool and set about my goal with zest, meeting it with great success. After getting pissed and stumbling around for awhile at the pool, I changed to water and began to sober up. Of course that left me really too tired to go out but I ate and took a nap and got ready to go and because I don't go out too often, out I went.
It's small place on a back road in Ocala called the "Pub". They have a drag show on Saturday nights but as Laurie pointed out via text message "those Ocala "girls" are burly". Which turned out to be very true.
It was a shame I was too tired because it would have been fun and there was no weird pressure on my side because Kegan was there. They were all over him. He's a young good looking kid. He danced (slow) with a queen...twice. The second dance had some--well, ass rubbing. Very gay, and good for the queen I guess.
Everyone was very nice and the only mistake I think I made was politely lighting the cigarette of an aging and worn out queen who took the opportunity to rub my arm (a little creepily) and asked what was wrong because I didn't look to be enjoying myself. I was enjoying myself a hell of a lot more before that moment I can assure you.
The vast majority of the time I sat at the bar and tried to stay as close as possible to Kimber which proved difficult because she got very involved with Ocala's gay community tonight. I am however, very glad she had such a great time.
All is well and I am still very straight. It was an experience but regret not being rested enough to have more fun.
Apparently most people thought I was scared and though I may have looked it I was not. Mostly.
Batman Forever was on the TV over the bar and I watched most of it. That's the one with Robin and appropriate I think for a gay bar experience.
It is now 20 after 3 a.m. and exhausted I will try to sleep. One second, one minute, one hour...I continue and survive.
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