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Beauty In The Night

 Halloween story

ghost

This story is true . . . I swear.

It was late Friday evening and I’d just walked in the door after a hard afternoon shift at the local factory. I don’t remember exactly where she got the idea, but as soon as I sat down on the couch Patti pulled a game board out of a shopping bag. “Want to have some fun?” she said.

”What’s that?”

”A Ouija board.”

“Ouija board?”

“Yeah, you sit across from each other and ask it questions. You hold one side of this thing, (she held a small rectangular pointer with three legs in her hand) and I hold the other,” she explained. “Then you ask it a question and it will move around the board spelling out an answer from the spirit world.”

“Ok, let’s see if it works,” I said halfheartedly. (more…)

Get A Job . . .

job

The importance of this little story is not to tell you why I am a carpenter. It goes far deeper then that.

If you are young and rebellious and discouraged as I was when I left the military and joined the work force, fear not. There is a place for you. All you need to do is not be afraid to search and find it.

When I was a young man I quit every job I had within a very short time. I never had a deep love for money and I hated to go to work because it interfered with my partying. I said, “the hell with that, “I’ll be a bum,” . . . and I pretty much was.

But I was also too proud to take handouts . . . so I reluctantly became a working bum. I worked odd jobs, took care of myself, never asked anybody for anything, but in my heart I didn’t have what it took to be a bum. I didn’t know what I wanted actually, and for the few years before and after 1970 I just existed.

Then one day after taking an odd job I discovered how much I loved pounding nails and building things. From that time on I was a carpenter. . . and proud of it.

I enjoyed getting up early in the morning and driving to the job site. I enjoyed the ruggedness, the camaraderie, the long hours in freezing temperatures or baking in the hot sun. . . it was me, it was mine. I had found my path.

They told me that in order to be to be a journeyman carpenter I had to join the union and become an apprentice for four years. I said, “the hell with that.”

I went to the library and spent one whole Alaskan winter studying the craft of carpentry. The following Spring when building picked up, I bull shitted my way onto a framing crew building houses and never looked back.

I worked hard, continued my studies, and after a lot of on-the-job training, I learned all the various phases of carpentry and became a home builder in my own right. I started my own company and built houses for many years . . . then I moved to furniture, music instruments, and various other things.

Today as a retired gentleman of leisure, I still enjoy building stuff and I swear one day I’m gonna go back in the woods and build myself a tree house. . . . may next Spring.

That’s just me. That’s what I did because it fit my personality, but that was my bliss . . . and believe me, following the money trail is a dead end street regardless of your portfolio’s size. Life is only worth the effort if you, like Joseph Campbell said, follow your bliss.

The Piano . . .

slider-young-girl-playing

When I designed and built this cabin my wife and I now live in, I added onto it a 12×14 foot library. It has an arched entry from the main room, two walls of windows, and one wall full of books on shelves. Taking up most of the wall facing the interior of the cabin there sat a mahogany piano that we bought on a whim while shopping for furnishings.

The piano was old, but top of the line. It’s tone reminded one of Vaudeville and the glory days of a honky tonk saloon. It looked good, fit well into the informality of the room, but there was one thing wrong . . . it was a very sad piano.

Day after day she sat there along the back wall of the sunlit room, alone and forlorn, silently waiting for somebody to at least run their fingers across her keys . . . but nobody did. When I walked by on the way to a book I could feel her sadness, but as I was too busy doing other things, I ignored her anyway. (more…)

My Dream

dream

I had a dream last night and I want to share it because well, most of my dreams vacillate between violent and very violent . . .  and this one was ‘Sound Of Music’ wonderful for me. . . . almost like a vision quest. . . damn, if I was an Indian I would know it was time to leave the mountain . . .

I wrote it all down in a couple minutes and only edited enough so my daughter could understand it. . . . . anyways (more…)

The Hippies

hippies

Attempting to write about the hippies is akin to a young soldier hunkered down on Omaha Beach attempting to write about the battle surrounding him. He hears it, but all he sees is the sky above his head.

To give the battle proper perspective, every man taking part, including the enemy, would have to have his story told also because every guy had a different story and every story was just as viable as the next if the truth was to be unadulterated by personal bias.

To tell the whole and honest story about the counter culture would be just as difficult . . . and quite honestly I don’t have the talent to do it. I was there. I experienced it first hand, but like the soldier on Omaha Beach I can only tell my part of a story that is so big, so diverse, that for the whole thing to be written the reader would have a hard time carrying the book it was written in. (more…)

The Hippies (part 2)

acid

My first acid trip

Many things have been written about the late sixties, some say if you were really there you wouldn’t remember them, but I was there and I remember.

The decade between 1965 and 1975 was a pivotal point in the history of our nation. The horror of Vietnam, and getting caught red handed in one monumental lie after another had placed our government center stage on everybody’s shit list. By the Fall of 1973 when ‘tricky Dick’ Nixon spouted his now famous one liner on TV concerning Watergate, “I am not a crook.” nobody believed him. He WAS a crook, as well as a liar when he promised to end the war and instead broadened it into Cambodia. He was a dick all right . . . a dickHEAD.

Many of us young folks, after realizing we were being ripped off, broke ties with the establishment and dedicated ourselves to the Utopian dream of peace and love instead of war and hate. For some of us, this was heavy, happy stuff, tantamount to be being born again. (more…)

Ferguson

don't shoot

Why is it one group sees the cop at Ferguson a killer while the other group sees him as being justified? What causes black people across the country to think and act like they do? They don’t know whether the young man was shot charging the cop or whether he had his hands up any more than I do . . . and yet they are convinced beyond a doubt that the kid was murdered. How can two people look at the same thing and come up with an entirely different viewpoint from that same evidence?

Distrust and disrespect . . .

The black man has been raised on a foundation of distrust and disrespect ever since the days the white man stole him out of his homeland and brought him to these America’s in the hold of a ship. He has been beaten down ever since.

In today’s world various civil rights laws help him a bit, but I don’t see the foundation shifting or changing beneath his feet all that much. . . especially since the white corporate bosses packed up their factory jobs and left them, as well as the poor and middle class whites, holding an empty bag. (more…)

Old Tom

angry-wet-cat-6

Last night was the coldest ever in Ohio . . . -8 with a stiff wind . . . old Tom was scratching on the door, he wants in.

‘Oh no, poor cat is going to freeze’. Big hearted me goes out on the porch to rescue Tom and let him spend the night in the warm laundry room . . . “Here kitty, kitty.” He comes over, rubs on my leg, I bend, pet, snatch up cat and head back inside.

Now Tom has never been in a house. He totally freaks out and starts yowling and scratching his way up my chest towards my face . . . I drop him . . . next thing I know Tom leaps on the table beneath the window, then tries to climb the drapes . . . . “I WANT OUT OF HERE!”

Unable to make it out, he jumps back to the floor and heads into the library on a dead run. First he skids into and then leaps upon another table . . . bye, bye good lamp! He dives off yowling like a dying cow and flies back to the main room, across the couch top and back to the window. This time he succeeds in climbing the drapes like Sylvestor Stallone in the movie ‘Cliffhanger” . . . until he, as well as the drapes come crashing to the floor, that is.

During this mad dash to destroy, Tom is being chased by two other cats, a Jack Russell terrier and a really excited pit bull puppy.

Finally we all trap poor Tom and I throw his crazy ass back outside.

Thanking God that my wife is in NC visiting her brother I pour myself a double shot of Old Crow and sit in the Lazy Boy staring at the chaotic mess before me. . . . while in the back ground Tom begins to piss and moan about how cold it is on the porch . . .

I Saw A UFO!

Ocean Isle Beach North Carolina, July 2016:

ufo

My daughter and I were out at night sitting on the beach observing the beauty of a full moon. Suddenly to the right of the moon at about 5:00 there appeared in the brightly lit sky three large orange orbs side by side. They sat there for a moment or two and kinda moved back and forth a bit before one blinked out . . . then another . . . then the other. One came back on and discharged a whole bunch (maybe 20) of smaller, white starry like dots which proceeded to dance around and slowly move off heading for Florida. The two of us sat there mesmerized by what just took place.

The following night I took my camera and stayed out quite a while staring into the star studded sky until then, in a flash, two of the larger craft appeared, slowly drifted a moment and then zipped south. When I say zipped, I mean they took off faster than a rocket. The following night I saw a couple more that appeared and blinked away quite fast, but a friend saw another one soon thereafter.

Upon telling my experience I noticed such a ho hum attitude that I just quit talking about the experience. Even though, (to all you brain dead people out there) these sightings that so many of us are experiencing are a game changer that reaches into the highest levels of religion, politics, philosophy, and consciousness. It’s fun to make fun I know, but this is serious shit IMO.

I don’t feel it’s so scary as it is interesting and maybe, just maybe these people, whoever they are, may be able to teach us something that will save us from destroying ourselves. . . . as is, beings as we are in such sad shape that we can only think of defending ourselves from them (as if we actually could) . . . these star people are my last hope.

 

Dreamland

dreamland

There are a few things that all men, rich or poor, black or white, aborigine or modern, have in common. They all have the mental capacity to dream . to imagine . to perceive . to project . and to promote all that dreaming as reality. That’s why we have problems with each other, we all think OUR version of reality is the one true reality. The others? . . . well they are dreamers.

Another thing we all have in common is the fact the we are locked into a universal system that demands movement. Nothing stands still, everything is either growing or decaying. Dreams without action will not work. We can imagine and hope and project and perceive all we want, but without action the fruits of idleness will only create decay and criminality.

We want something free? . . . nothing is free! Anything freely given without the need for hard work is probably going to either be a false religion or a diseased seed, if not immediately, then soon. High flying words are just that . . . in order to land they must be coaxed to the ground and watered and fed daily. That means in order to bear the fruit of your dreams YOU must work for your reality to become anything more than a shell of empty promises emanated from a Pied Piper leader looking to walk you over the cliff. (I could go on a huge rant here about American politics and religion but I will save you the agony) (more…)