I’ve said on this blog that we have two families in life. The one we are born with and the one we choose. This concept has always been more than words for me. It’s been the way I was raised, and I live still. Today, Veteran’s Day, I going to take a moment and showcase my brothers.
These yahoo’s on each side of me are veterans.
The above picture is one of the few times we were together. Our lives are hectic, but we made it happen that day. The gentleman flashing the peace sign is the oldest. He was in the Marine Corps and whipped my skinny butt into shape before Army basic training. On the opposite side, he was in the Army Signal Corps and taught me what it meant to be a member of the Signal Corps. Their guidance and toughness laid the cornerstone of who I am.
Brother Brother Brother Cousin
Each of these men also served in the military; the top three were in the Navy, and my cousin was in the Army. These men helped me put the pieces back together again after my wife died. They reminded me who I was and what I stood for. I’m indebted to them for life.
As veterans, service and duty aren’t things we are born to; it’s what we learn. In many ways, we are the better for it. In others, that is a cost. Some more than others, but a cost, just the same. During the time we wore the uniform, we did our thang. Nothing or no one can take that away from us. It’s an honor to be among you all.
There is a silence in the room No words spoken, emotions so thick one could smother Fighting back the tears, as you look back at her face. She’s sitting on the steps, glowing in the sun.
Your bag is packed, yet you search for a reason not to leave. Standing the final stance before departure…knowing too well it is time Feeling the tenderness of her touch Followed by the warmth of her lips.
Exhaling in the moment, the next is unknown
Walking out the door, never turning around Not wanting your tears to show. The ride to post was longer today than any others Your brothers and sisters in arms have the same upon their faces
Equipment and manifest checks … moments away from destiny Chatter fills the room, but no one speaks of why we are here As if you speak its name, you give it power. To speak its name, the illusion would be over
We muster on the flight line, trying to stay strong We look through the crowd, watching your brethren summoning the courage Moments away from fighting an unknown cause Fighting with undying zeal and without pause
The plane is loaded, and slumber takes over Getting all we can get while we can Waken by the plane’s descent, our nerves on fire Knowing that the illusion is over and dues need to be paid
We flick the switch ….
Boom boom….boom boom ….boom boom Can you hear it?
Boom boom…boom boom ….boom boom War drums sound off
Desperately searching for the next thing that is keeping you away Through bloodshot eyes, we see all the enemies have vanished No one else to fight … no more orphans caused At least no more today
We flick off the switch ….
Leaning in the doorway, standing there looking Looking at the most breathtaking thing that these eyes have seen In what seems to be a lifetime
Here are this week’s questions about shopping habits:
1. When food shopping, do you prefer to shop online or in person? I do a great deal of online shopping for convenience, but I prefer to walk the aisles and see the things that aren’t on the website. Plus, you have an opportunity to examine your purchase before leaving the store. I can’t count the number of times I’ve purchased something online and be disappointed when it arrives. It’s almost like they have a magic camera when taking photos for the website. 2. Do you take/stick to a shopping list? I’ve always made a list in my head. I typically purchase only the things I intend to purchase. Online shopping makes the need for a list easier to stick to. 3. Do you shop around or are you store loyal for convenience? I’m pretty loyal if the service and they have the product I’m looking for. However, I believe in having a backup plan, so I often look around at several stores before settling down with a single store. 4. Roughly how long does it take you to do a weekly shop? It depends on what I need to purchase. Typically it takes me about two hours.
This week on her is a lovely tribute. It is in the memories of others that we truly achieve immortality. May we all become immortal.
Do you ever feel more excited about getting the package in the mail, rather than the item that’s in it? Yes, there have many times I received a package and wondered what goodies am I about to receive. I’ve been let down too many times, to be specific.
What is the difference between your ideal self and your real self? (i.e. what attribute or physical feature would allow you feel the ideal ‘you’?) I wish I saw myself as something else. I wonder who I would become? What would be the ideal version of myself? Would I be suave? Charismatic? Perhaps I would live on a mountain in an unknown region, communing with the birds. Wouldn’t it be cool to learn a bird language? In this ideal version of myself, would I still be a writer?
However, I’m not that fortunate. I am just a simple man living my life as best I can. I embrace my faults and learn from them. Some lessons are costly, and others not so much. Yet, no matter the cost, each is full of wisdom. I need the patience to listen. Who I am may not work for some, but it’s good enough for me. Everyone else is already taken. This includes any fantasy version of myself. I’m a writer, so I can make myself pretty sweet. However, The Madre has always urged me to use my powers for good. If I’m nothing else, I strived to be a good son.
If you found $2,000 on the ground and there were no witnesses, what would you do with it? I would turn it to the local authorities. Some folks are looking at this answer and saying, “Yeah, right, you would turn it in.” But I would. I’ve lost money before, and someone turned it in. I’m very thankful for that honest person. So why not pay it forward?
Are you ever morally obliged to take action? Under what circumstances? Yes, whenever I can assist people in need. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my responsibilities to my family. When this occurs, it usually affects how much I can assist. My code doesn’t allow me to say no.
I was overvisiting Anita’s blog, catching up on my reading. I’m so far behind. I came across two of her posts concerning writing. This particular blog post struck a nerve. I’ve been considering retiring from the workforce and packing up my truck, camera, cat, and grandson to shoot some pictures. Though photography is a favorite hobby, I’ve considered doing more with it.
Despite the joy I receive from on-the-road shooting pictures, photography alone doesn’t do it for me. I need to write every day. I don’t have any control over this compulsion. I’m a slave to it, so to speak. I had a pen in my hand long before I had a camera. However, I have discussed my feelings about writing. I can’t say for sure if I discussed why I write clearly.
I can’t point to one reason for writing simply. However, I think I can describe what happens when I write. When it come to writing, I used to confess the echoes of madness from the crevasses of my mind. It tames my demons. It’s like I feel them settling down in front of the fireplace with a cup of tea and opening to the page of the current book they are reading. Yes, of course, my demons read. I don’t particularly care for their favorite genres, but we make work.
Writing is how I clear the thoughts whispered to me throughout the day. I can relax. I can feel like a regular person, even if it’s only until I finish a chapter. I have to tell stories, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s my way of separating the negative thoughts from the positive ones. I understand the necessity of the existence of both. Writing is how I attempt to find the balance I so desperately need.
Here’s my response to XingfuMama’s One-To-Three Photo Processing Challenge – November 2023
I’ve been working on a daily prompt response for nearly a week, and I can’t quite figure out what I want to say. All I know is that I wanted a tree in the post. So, I have been taking photos of trees. However, none of them entirely do the trick for the original I took them for. Yet, I ran across this challenge and they may work for this challenge.
Let’s take a look.
For this photo, I used Photoshop Express on my iPad
Original
Silvered
Charm 7
Carmine
I’m not sure how the challenge works, but I posted three different processes from the original. I hope I got it right. Either way, it was fun playing around with the various presets.
I’ve always had difficulty capturing motion in stills. Perhaps, this may be an underline reason I chose to work into with video. However, I can’t conceal my work love for still photography. Often, I look for ways to incorporate the two mediums.
However, every now and then I get lucky and capture an image that can be viewed by the public.
Here are a few:
Fountain at the local botanical gardenCaught this fella running along the fence line
Usually, I use a technique called Photo Roman.
Photo Roman is a mesmerizing photography technique that combines the art of visual storytelling with stunning imagery. Its ability to captivate and engage viewers has made it popular among photographers in the digital age. With its origins in France and its growing popularity worldwide, Photo Roman continues to push the boundaries of traditional photography, offering a unique and immersive experience for both creators and viewers alike. As we look to the future, the possibilities for this captivating technique are endless, and we can’t wait to see what lies ahead in the world of Photo Roman.
Here is an example:
My first attempt of Photo Roman done five years ago
Thank you for being patient and letting getting all this out. It’s not often I get to talk about a topic in photography I actually know about.
Sometimes, it’s hard for me to remember what it’s like to be a kid at heart. Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about childhood. I have had several random memories.
I remember pacing endlessly, wondering if my latest crush was into me. I enlisted help from my friends to discern my plight, but they weren’t any help. Then, a girl from the class appeared out of nowhere. She was known to accomplish this feat regularly. There was talk if she was some sort of fairy or some other mythical creature. Putting aside her unknown origins, she offered a probable solution to my crisis. There was a daisy in her hand.
She began plucking the pedals one by one, uttering, ” She loves me,” “She loves me not.” We waited as she continued plucking as if the fate of the world rested on the result. When she finished, I had a new love. However, this result was the farthest from the truth. I remember playing this game. It gives me a hardy laugh.
One of my friend’s mother asked me once if I was part squirrel. I didn’t know what she meant, but looking back, I can see why she asked that. I would scurry up a tree in a heartbeat, leaving her son looking up and complaining until he found the courage to climb up with me. We were kings, looking down at the world. We would pack sandwiches and comic books, staying there for hours.
I remember spending hours on various swing sets around the neighborhood. This photo reminds me of an old swing set where I used to sneak and swing. It was something sitting there gathering my thoughts about what mischief I was going to into next.
The bottom represents the playground swing I played with as a child. The swing I used to court my latest crush. The laughter, how I remember the laughter. It was almost like we didn’t know fear. We shared interests, fears, and passions. We never considered whether or not the information we shared would be used against us. It was friendships forged from innocence.
There are far too many quality websites to call one my favorite. However, there are a few I visit regularly. I understand this might be the time to publicly admit. [Clearing my throat] My name is Mangus, and I’m a bookworm and shopaholic. Because of this compulsion, I spend a considerable amount of time on Amazon. I just can’t help myself. I have one of those Kindle Fire things, so I buy books all the time. To make matters worse, I acquire most of my provisions from there as well. Not to mention office supplies, electronics, and ridiculous whatnot that one buys on a wimp.
Until recently, I spent a great of time on Goodreads. A social media site for bookworms. I admit the idea is exciting. However, I have purposely been weening myself from Goodreads in hopes of somehow curving my book buying. Then there’s Abe.com; where can you believe this madness; people post books for sale. There are first editions and the lot waiting for me to enter my credit card information. Thriftbooks.com has reasonably priced books and a points system so you can get some discounts. So not fair.
Wish me luck in my pursuit of curving my addictions. I’m running out of space for bookshelves and my Kindle is almost full.
I always enjoy discovering new ways of pushing myself as a writer. Every sentence is an opportunity to redefine my limits. Often, I find myself struggling with who I’m becoming in the wake of my existence. There was a time when I felt certain who I was and my purpose. Now, with age and health issues, I wonder…
I did a lot work with my cell phone camera last month. More than I usually do. I always have it on it with me, so there is a convenience factor. But, I wanted to capture ordinary things and see if I could make a decent shot with the photos.
Nikon D3200
First shots with this Macro Lens attachment
Yeah, I’m struggling with understanding how macro photography works. I probably should have done more research before I brought something. However, I get these wild hairs from time to time and do things willy-nilly. I do it ain’t right. The Madre said it’s understandable from now and again, but get that it check.
Here, in the chambers of my madness, I am showered by my decadence. The weight of my arrogance bears heavily on my soul, dropping me to my knees, beaten and shallow. The eyes of my damnation have opened. From its lips, a howl is released that cringes the wicked.
In a fleeting moment….
I believed someone wanted to hear what I had to say. Believing I had something worthy of saying.
For a moment….
I believed my words could inspire and ignite, Yet they are daunt and douse. I believed my words could teleport you from drab and mundane, to the majestic and climatic
For a moment….
I believed I was good enough to defend the faith, which gives us breath I believed I was that breath, filling the lungs of the passionate.
For a moment… I believed the faces of the slain would fade, Yet I drift deeper into a sea of their weeping souls. Believing I was strong enough to let go of the things that bind me. Though I await sadness to draw life that remains….leaving me hollow.
Bound by lunacy’s chains, I am danging in its web, screaming… Liberating my sanity as I stare into the fright and pain. Knowing I can’t let go of the hope … of grace.
For my fortitude must be unwavering. If I’m lucky, my courage will be limitless
Yet, I must be careful, for I hope for…. For it might destroy it all.
Yes, I must be careful … For it might destroy me.
In the twilight of this revelation, I slump, weakened… for I am dying. From my lifeless lips, I speak Passion’s name Breaking the chains, I rise untouched by the flames of Madness.
holding on to the dream that I’m powerful enough Powerful enough to scribe in lines of the destined. Wise enough to scribe the words that will bring us home. Strong enough to wield the words that will bind our drifting souls.
Bringing us to a place we all belong, united and strong A place where our words cast out the darkness that sometimes fills our hearts.
Yet, I must be careful about what I long for…. Careful for what I yearn for …. I might get things I don’t want
Yet, I pray hear you my plea
Just before the dawn of this … Epiphany of Madness
My Irish twin—I have no idea what an Irish Twin is, but she says it all the time, so I don’t argue—does a spooktacular job each year with Halloween Costumes.
This is someone’s interpretation of the “Munster” dragged and the “Munster” Chopper. You can never tell what you are going to see at a car show.
Here are this week’s questions (which are nothing to do with Halloween):
Do you have carpets, rugs, laminating flooring, tiles, or wooden floors (or something else) in your property. I always wanted shag carpet. Only because I liked the name. I enjoyed how it sounded when I said it. Currently, I have an old single ply carpet. I’m pretty sure it screams each time I walk into the kitchen. However, my preferred flooring is wooden floors. I love the coolness on the bottom of my feet as I walk through the house in the winter. How it feels as it warms after I get the fireplace going.
Do you have a bathtub and separate shower, or a combination of the two? Back during the fancy years, I had a stand alone shower. It worked great in the mornings. Waiting for your turn in the bathroom blows. I had a house full of daughters, so bathroom time was precious. Now, I have run of the mill garden variety combo. Nothing fancy, but it gets the job done.
What is your favourite room of the house, and why? My office. This is where the magic happens. This place I can go and be myself. I get to create some of the most amazing things. Like the boy who’s afraid to talk to the girl of his dreams because he has one leg longer than the other. Something you don’t even notice unless he tells you.
Mr. Crabtree has been sitting by the window over medicated for six months. He doesn’t complain because somewhere in the back of his mind, he feels he deserves this fate. He watches the night nurses grope one another. He hears them talking about how stoned he is. How he couldn’t tell a soul about what he sees. Then, one day, everything changes. He smells a hint of lilac and lavender. A soft, loving voice is speaking in his ear. He can’t believe this person is talking to him. This was the day he met Rose.
How many televisions do you have? too many. 4 total. 2 for watching the tele and 2 serve as monitors for my desktop
I’ve never done one of these before, but I enjoy them. I think it has something to do with the brevity of it. The power of less is more. So, true to fashion I will combine a few challenges. Let’s see if I get any of them right.
You have three magic genie wishes, what are you asking for?
DAILY PROMPT RESPONSE
Dealing with a Djinn is like bucking the tiger odds. The odds are in favor of the house. This is because we speak in generalities. we are specific about what we want or need. Sometimes, we actually think we know exactly what we need only to find out it isn’t what we needed at all.
If I remember my scripture, Solomon was the wisest man in the world and there wouldn’t be another as wise as him. If he couldn’t get it right, then I suppose we are good.
What is your favourite dessert? This is a difficult question for me because I’m diabetic. So, officially I hate dessert. However, before diabetes, I had a three dessert rotation depending on the situation. For quick fixes, there are freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. They must be soft, not the crunchy kind. Most store brought brands are trash. However, there is a Canadian brand that is quite nice. Secondly, Pecan pie, is there anything more that needs to be said about its scrumptiousness. Lastly, my mother-in-law’s Chess pie. Now, this might take a minute because my mouth is watering thinking about it. She stopped making them when she reached her eighties, and my brother-in-law took over the baking duties. I love him, but he’s fired.
Do you still use cash to pay for goods? Not really much anymore. Perhaps I should. The world of electronic currency is a little unsettling. However, it’s hard to remain old school when you have vendors who don’t take cash. Get this? They have the nerve to charge you a convenience fee.
Apart from a house, car, or holiday, what is the most expensive thing you’ve purchased? My video equipment, my Sony FS-5, and Macbook Pro lead the charge. If we add the peripherals, the price is ridiculous. However, it’s been several years, and the equipment is still very well. So, with the quality, I pretty much forgot about the price.
If you are going out for a special occasion, what is your favoured outfit? Any special occasion I wear a tailored suit and shirt.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not even a little bit. Somewhere along the way, the little bastard got to me. Maybe it was his eyes full of innocence that looked up at me as he gripped my finger when I met him. He stole his grandmother’s heart at the first coo. I wasn’t falling for that cute shit. He’s a male. He must be raised hard, tough, and ready. No pansies are allowed in my clan. No sir. No way.
However, from the start, I saw he going to be different. I saw something in him I wasn’t used to seeing. There was a kindness to him, not the kind that makes you soft. But the kind that makes people want to be around. The kind that’s the foundation of becoming a good man. My grandson is also a very thoughtful young man. I’m pretty sure he got these traits from his grandmother.
I have also noticed he has a bit of a mean streak, something he definitely got from my side of the family. However, I seldom see this side. All in all, he is a cool kid. You can’t tell him; he might think I’m getting soft.
I feel like writing today. There have been so many days where I didn’t feel it, but wrote anyway. I can’t explain or put my finger on the difference. I’m unsure if I need to or if it’s all that important. What’s important to me right now is that I’m feeling it. Today, I not going to fight it.
Perhaps, it’s because
I saw the Moon in a clear blue sky. So close I could touch it. It has magical powers, they say I believe them.
Perhaps it’s because
I saw the clouds glow when they were touched by the Sun. A bird chirped as it flew by A stray cat rubbed against my leg I had a meeting with a friend that didn’t suck
I don’t know why today feels this way, but strap in.
I keep returning to this piece because it speaks to my current needs. I really need to let go of so many things that I’ve held on to for so long. It almost seems like I might be cutting away a part of me. Yes, I’ve held them for that long. Sometimes I wonder why we covet the chaos of madness rather than the serenity of sanity. Great piece here!
This is a powerful piece. It fills me with sadness, love, and hope. It reminds me of when my wife died and how much I loved her. I never got to say goodbye, but I hope someday she will be able to look the way she did and tell me I’m still crazy… just crazy!
There was a time when running was everything to me. I’ve literally have run hundreds if not thousands of miles in my life. It’s something about the struggle between your mind and body. The two of them trying to find synchronicity. The feeling is difficult to put into words.
Pushing past the pain, the burn in your lungs, the ache from your muscles, and the satisfaction once you have completed. Brings back memories. Depending on the weather, each run presents a difficult challenge. I always secretly loved running in the rain. Especially, a storm. I’d run straight into in an act of defiance. Knowing I should be inside, but no!
The battle between my will and Mother Nature had begun. Of course, I wasn’t going to win, but I would not be taken lightly. I would not cower inside like a good boy and wait. Yeah, that’s where was at, right there. Recalling it, brings back the emotions. My heart rate elevates, my breathing deepens, and my focus is on target.
I sometimes forget how I developed my love for running. How I built up my endurance, stamina, and intestinal fortitude. Oddly, it was from walking. I can’t to do the miles and rage war against the elements anymore by running. However, I can still go on a walk. I love it.
Let me explain why walking is so important to me. In earlier post, I babbled about a bionic kid wanting to a gymnast. It was attempt to be humorous, but missed the mark. Some of you might remember the story. For those who don’t remember or don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m about. Here is a link to the story
What I didn’t tell you about was after that fiasco I had to learn to walk again. I broke my hip in several places and lived in a body cast for a period of time. This marked the end of the adorable years. All my adorable chubbiness, which attracted women from the corners of the Earth just for the pleasure of pinching my cheek.
I never been a fan of cheek pinching, but it usually resulted in candy. So, I swallowed my disdain for the sake of candy. Once, I lost the chubbiness, the candy connection was over. Then, I met with healthy snacks, like apples, applesauce, and random raw vegetables from my grandmother garden. Of course, I suddenly wished I hadn’t broke my hip.
My journey of learning to walk again was challenging. I still don’t think I walk without a slight, but hitch in my step. It seemed I was going to be on crutches forever. I wasn’t before long, I was walking. Then I could run. Boy was I fast.
I walked everywhere. All across town, the different neighborhoods, the different stores, and all the different parks in town. I remember being told certain parks were only for the people who lived in the area. I paid that mess no attention. I kept walking.
Walking has always seem to be the activity where I can clear my mind. The activity where I can the peace that often escapes during the routines of the day. I can gauge myself while walking. Too much pain, tells me I’m not where I need to be physically. Or at least a good indication of my physical status.
Essays and stories have bloomed from my walks. My walks have also been the thread that has sworn together the story fragments that sometimes aimlessly linger in the corners of our minds. There not tucked too deep so we can forget, but they poke their heads out from time to time.
I look at this prompt with a certain measure of disbelief. Why would I pay anything to go to the moon? Let’s examine the question. Let me go at the possible advantages of going to the moon, let alone paying to go. From what I understand, the Moon is cold. I’ve been cold in my lifetime, and I don’t want to be cold. The winter season here on Earth is more than enough. I’ve spent winters in several different regions. I’m quite familiar with cold weather.
Now, how many science fiction stories have you read where anything good happens with living on the moon? I haven’t read any. If there are any that you know, please let me know. Here’s something interesting to consider. I’m a writer, so if I want to go to the Moon, all I have to do is write about it. Yep, all I have to do is sit in front of my laptop and devise a beautiful tale about a lunar adventure. Or I could pull out a stack of 28lbs paper and start writing.
So you see, there is no need to pay to go to the Moon when you are a writer. Pay to go to the Moon. Are you kidding me right now?
Here are this week’s questions: 1. When you were a child, did you have your friends round for tea even if it wasn’t your birthday? Were you invited to stay for tea at a friend’s house? I was raised in America, so the only we had was Sun Tea. Which consisted of placing Lipton tea bags in a large jar and sitting it on the porch. I forgot about sweet tea. We love our sweet tea and lemonade. The closest thing to what this question asked is my friends and I would scrouge change and go down to the filling station to buy RC Cola and a Moon Pie. We’d sit on the curb eating our pie and drinking our pop, like kings of the four blocks that comprised our neighborhood.
2. What was your first job in adult life? I joined the military right out of high school. There is nothing more to say about that.
3. Do you enjoy shopping (food, clothes, gifts etc)? I hate shopping for the most part. I mainly purchase books and electronics. Used bookstores are my happy place. I must remain calm when I find a treasure I have been looking for months. Weirdly, people stare at you like you’re a lunatic when you get all excited about a book find. As a child, they would shake their heads with looks of pity on their faces. I would overhear them saying, “Don’t stare! I told you about staring at God’s special people. That poor child.” For a while, I didn’t know they were talking about me. When I did discover it, I whooped a little louder.
4. What was the best bargain you ever got? I’m not sure if this is considered a bargain or not. Since the word bargain is a bit subjective. It really depends on the person and the item. I walked into a pawn shop once and saw a stack of LP’s on the shelf for sale. The stack was riddled with no name band in the last twenty years, but as I reached the bottom of the pile, I struck gold. I found an original pressing of Howlin Wolf’s London Sessions. Quickly, I took it to the counter to purchase. Turns out the owner of the store was an old friend from back when we both had hair, and our eyes hadn’t seen all the things we had. In a way, back when we were both innocent.
What’s something most people don’t know about you?
DAILY PROMPT RESPONSE
I had several different responses to this prompt. I actually made very detailed notes on something else. However, I was at my brother’s motorcycle shop. I took several photos of his projects. I can’t disclose any of the works in progress. However, there is one I’m sure he won’t mind.
Over the last decade, I’ve gone on about my desire of wanting to ride a motorcycle. We have talked extensively during that time about owning one. Once, I went so far as to discuss the design of a bike. My brother graciously entertained my thoughts. However, I know nothing about designing or building a bike. He could have taken the opportunity to berate me. He didn’t, but he did something else instead.
One day, he tells me he will build me a bike. Now, I did my best not to be all giddy and lose my shit. I don’t think I pulled it off. I thought he joking around, but I went around the shop and took pictures of my future bike.
Let’s take a look, shall we…
Now, some may feel my baby is in rough shape. I assure you it’s in better shape than I am. Thanks to my brother’s I now have an opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream. Riding on the open road with the wind in my face and all that. Yes, I know it sounds cheesy, but don’t judge me!
Do you remember your first teacher at school? Of course, I do! How can I forget the woman who introduced me to nap time on a blue and red mat with white trim? Looking back, It seems I was destined to sleep on the ground on a foam mat, much thinner I might add. In the military, I didn’t sleep when I was supposed to either. Despite this, my first teacher was pretty cool. She visited me in the hospital after my gymnast attempt fiasco.
What was your best and worst subjects? I can’t remember my best subject I pretty much sucked at all of them. I do remember being bored for most of grade school. However, there were a few high points. The Monarch butterfly and acting out plays. There was a girl who was stupid smart who always would read a book and turn it into a play. I think we were in the third grade. She is probably some famous playwright or something. I’d look her up if I could just remember her name. Susie, Blanche, Mara, none of those sound right. I’m going to chuck that one into the L column.
Were you encouraged in class or did you just muddle along? Of course, I was encouraged I went to a great school. However, I did muddle along. This is when I heard the statement that followed me for the rest of my academic career. “Young man, you are working at your potential.” Nearly every teacher either said it to my mother’s face, which by the way were dark times for me, or wrote on my report card. My mother worked her butt off. Here I was playing around in school. I had one job, you know?
Would you like to be a student today? I pretty much have outgrown a good portion of my shenanigans, however, I still pepper a bit of high jinxes for flavor. I wouldn’t want anyone who knew me back then to think I’m reformed or something. One of my teachers attended one of my lectures, years ago. She waited until after I finished and came up to me. She had this expression that mixed with confusion and pride all at once. She asked if I was the little that gave her such a hard time in english class. I was taken back by the question. I was lecturing somewhere other than my hometown so I wasn’t expecting someone to actually know me.
She was an older version of herself. She hadn’t put weight and looked rather striking for her age. I smiled and nodded. She hugged me and we had coffee. I started going on about Gordon Weaver and she rolled right with me. Then the phone came out and it was picture time. Children, grandchildren, and have you been occupied the remainder of our conversation. As she left, she paused and looked back, and told me she always believed in me. Then she turned and walked away.
If I had believed in myself, perhaps, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to get things going in the right direction.
Along the coast of the isle, I await I’m awaiting the one who is heard but rarely seen. His guidance, his vision, is what soothes me.
Thundering huffs of his steed surround me Through the mist, I catch a glimpse of his armor My heart pounds in anticipation of asking the question
Opening my eyes, I am within the halls of my study An empty room with barren shelves, once full No remnants of its former purpose
Except…
An inkwell on my table Whispering … You’re the one I belong to…
My soul began to shiver As it transformed into a mesmerizing beauty With enchanting eyes that spoke to me.
I could barely take it My head was spinning around and around I didn’t know what to do As those eyes kept asking me Can you be the writer? That writes too silly to the profound Are you that writer? It is just a question to answer.
The inkwell on my table… Was the caressing wind Of the blossoming trees Everything between hell and heaven
Now I’m back along the coast In the presence of the rider As I looked at the face behind the visor
I realized the answers
I am the writer of the silly, perhaps the profound Yes, I have my answer I am the Muse
Yesterday, when I was working on the post, Bedlam & Mayhem, I had no idea what was going on in the world at the time. I met a woman once who talked about the world being connected by what she called vibrations. At the time, I was too young to understand what she meant by the statement.
I’m unsure if I understand the statement now. I must admit when I encounter things that fall in this category. Let me be clear: I’m referring to when you feel strongly about a subject and write something about it. Whether or not you publish your thoughts about the subject. The important thing is writing about a subject that’s happening, and you have no prior knowledge of its occurrence as you write. This reminds me of the title of Norman Mailer’s book on writing called “The Spooky Art.”
Honestly, this has happened more than I care to admit. I don’t have any special powers or anything like that. find it peculiar you can write about something so moving, and it’s actually happening. It’s almost like every story is waiting to be heard. If you allow me to be a little more hippie-dippy for a moment, I remember hearing once that magic still exists, but we as people forgot about it and forgotten how to tap into it.
After some research, I discovered there had been a mass shooting in over seven major cities over the past weekend. I don’t have the words. Perhaps we can start with spooky. For both the events and the writing about them.
The longer you live the more things you remember. There are many historical events that stand out in my mind. It’s hard to choose which ones to talk about. So, I’ve decided to discuss a few that impacted my life. These events made me stop and think about the world around me. Sometimes, I find myself a little taken back by the level of carnage some members of humanity are willing to unleash.
I wish this quote by Joseph Conrad had no relevance in today’s society. Sadly, it is just as relevant today as when he wrote it.
Orlando Nightclub Shooting
On June 12, 2016, a horrific event in Orlando, Florida, shook the nation. Omar Mateen, a 29-year-old man, carried out a mass shooting at Pulse, a gay nightclub, resulting in the loss of 49 innocent lives and leaving 53 others wounded. The impact of this senseless act of violence reverberated far beyond the walls of the nightclub, leaving a deep scar on the LGBTQ+ community and the nation as a whole.
The Devastating Impact
The Orlando nightclub shooting was not just an act of violence but a targeted attack on a specific community. It attacked love, acceptance, and the freedom to be oneself. The LGBTQ+ community has long fought for equality and acceptance, and this tragic event served as a painful reminder that there are still those who seek to harm and oppress individuals based on their sexual orientation.
In the aftermath of the shooting, the nation came together to mourn the loss of innocent lives and support the LGBTQ+ community. Vigils were held across the country, with people from all walks of life coming together to stand in solidarity. It was a powerful display of unity and a testament to the resilience and strength of the human spirit.
The Importance of Remembering
As time passes, we mustn’t forget the Orlando nightclub shooting. We must remember the lives that were lost and the pain that was inflicted on the LGBTQ+ community. We honor the victims and their families by remembering and keeping their memories alive. Through this place, we can continue to fight for a world where everyone is accepted and loved for who they are.
Furthermore, the Orlando nightclub shooting serves as a reminder of the work that still needs to be done to prevent such acts of violence in the future. It highlights the need for better gun control measures to prevent individuals with harmful intentions from obtaining weapons. It also emphasizes creating a society that celebrates diversity and fosters acceptance.
I remember being outraged by this event. I wondered what was wrong with the young man. What was happening underneath the rhetoric? Of course, I will never know the answer to this question. However, this event didn’t hit me in the gut until a close friend shared her thoughts. Then finally exclaimed:
“They’re killing us, Mangus. They’re killing us!”
I had no idea what to do or how, if anything, I could comfort her. I still don’t. The event was senseless and cruel.
The Capitol Riots 2021
On January 6, 2021, some Americans lost their damn minds and stormed the Capital Building in Washington, D.C. This event should have never happened, but it did. Nearly three years later, I still question the point of the entire affair. I can remember staring at my boss like she had lost her mind. I heard her words, but they didn’t make sense.
The Attack on Democracy
The barrage of questions continued for a few minutes until I accepted that our Capital was under siege. I was furious. I felt helpless. I couldn’t do anything to right this wrong. It was no longer my job.
To attempt to overturn a presidential election by force is wrong on so many levels. I’m doing my best here to go into full mode.
Deep breaths…Mangus: Deep breaths … filth and foul and filth foul …deep breaths, use your words.
Civil disobedience is one of the things that made America what it is. However, in my opinion, the actions of that day went against the spirit of the country. That day was not our finest hour. We are better than this madness. It would behoove us to remember that.
Here is a link to the timeline of that day’s events provided by the BBC.
Healing and Moving Forward
In the aftermath of the Capitol riots, the nation grappled with the deep divisions that had been exposed. It was a stark reminder that democracy is fragile and requires constant vigilance. But in the face of this unprecedented attack on our democracy, there were glimmers of hope and unity.
Leaders from both sides of the political spectrum condemned the violence and called for accountability. The swift impeachment of the then-president and the subsequent investigations into the events of that day signaled a commitment to upholding the rule of law.
Furthermore, the resilience of the Capitol staff and law enforcement officers who worked tirelessly to protect the building and its occupants should be recognized and commended. Their bravery in the face of danger serves as a reminder of the dedication and sacrifice that public servants make every day.
Lessons Learned
The events of January 6, 2021, serve as a wake-up call for the nation. They highlight the urgent need to address the underlying issues that led to such a violent insurrection. We must examine the root causes of the division and discontent that fueled this attack on our democracy.
Moreover, the Capitol riots underscore the importance of education and critical thinking in a democratic society. We must invest in civic education and media literacy to ensure that citizens have the tools to discern fact from fiction and to engage in constructive dialogue rather than resorting to violence.
As we reflect on the Capitol riots of 2021, let us remember the lessons learned and work towards healing the wounds that continue to divide our nation. Only through unity, understanding, and a commitment to the principles of democracy can we build a brighter future for all Americans.
2017 Las Vegas Shooting
On October 1, 2017, the world was shocked as a horrific event unfolded in Las Vegas, Nevada. A lone gunman, identified as Stephen Paddock, opened fire on a crowd of concertgoers attending the Route 91 Harvest music festival. The attack resulted in the loss of 58 innocent lives and hundreds injured. This tragic incident is one of the deadliest mass shootings in modern American history.
The Devastating Impact
The impact of the 2017 Las Vegas shooting was felt by the victims, their families, and the entire nation. As news of the attack spread, a wave of grief and disbelief washed over the country. The concert, meant to celebrate music and unity, quickly turned into chaos and terror. Survivors and witnesses were left traumatized, forever scarred by that fateful night’s horrifying images and sounds.
The Las Vegas shooting also reignited the ongoing debate around gun control in the United States. The ease with which the shooter acquired a vast arsenal of weapons and ammunition raised severe concerns about the accessibility and regulation of firearms. Many called for stricter gun laws and comprehensive background checks to prevent similar tragedies from occurring in the future.
Unity and Resilience
In the face of such tragedy, the Las Vegas community displayed remarkable resilience and strength. Strangers came together to help the wounded, offering comfort and support amidst the chaos. First responders and medical professionals worked tirelessly to save lives and provide essential care to the injured. The city of Las Vegas rallied around the victims and their families, offering financial assistance, counseling services, and a collective shoulder to lean on.
The aftermath of the Las Vegas shooting also highlighted the importance of mental health support. Survivors and witnesses experienced profound emotional trauma that required professional intervention and support. Mental health organizations and counselors played a crucial role in helping individuals cope with the aftermath of the tragedy, emphasizing the need to prioritize mental well-being in the wake of such devastating events.
Conclusion
The 2017 Las Vegas shooting was an immense tragedy that deeply impacted the nation. The loss of innocent lives and the profound effects on the survivors and their families cannot be overstated. It serves as a somber reminder of the urgent need for stricter gun control measures and comprehensive mental health support in our society. This horrific event should compel us to reflect on the lives that were tragically cut short and the resilience displayed by the Las Vegas community. Moving forward, we must strive for a future where such senseless acts of violence are prevented, and where every individual feels safe and secure. Achieving this requires collective action and a steadfast commitment to change, as we honor the victims and work towards building a more peaceful and compassionate society.
The Capitol riots of 2021 will forever be etched into the annals of American history as a dark moment. It was a stark reminder of the fragility of democracy and the crucial importance of safeguarding our institutions. This shocking event shook the nation to its core, but it also sparked hope for healing and growth. As a nation, we can move forward by addressing the underlying issues that led to this unrest, fostering unity among our citizens, and prioritizing education to prevent such incidents from happening again. It is through these actions that we can strive for a better and more inclusive future, where the principles of democracy are upheld and respected.
The Orlando nightclub shooting was a tragic event that deeply impacted not only the LGBTQ+ community but also the entire nation. It served as a stark reminder of the ongoing presence of hatred and discrimination in our society. However, amidst the darkness, it also brought people together, showcasing the power of unity and love. As we remember the victims and their families, it is crucial that we continue to work towards creating a world where everyone feels safe, accepted, and valued. This means actively combating prejudice, fostering inclusivity, and promoting understanding. By doing so, we can honor the memory of those affected by this tragedy and strive for a society where diversity is celebrated and bigotry has no place.
What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to?
PROSE – DAILY PROMPT RESPONSE
It’s interesting how something just pops up. As if the universe has something to tell you.
“Psst, come here, buddy. I won’t bite.”
In such cases, the universe represents that crush you never dared to speak to more than a few seconds at a time. For some reason, you believed talking to them would ruin the perfect relationship you had developed in your mind. In your mind, her voice caressed your inner ear, her smile melted away any doubt, and you weren’t an awkward guy who would write his thoughts in a notebook.
Then, sometime in the distant future, time folds back on itself because that’s what it always does. It comes around, so you face the moment you avoided all those years ago. It comes whether you are ready for it or not. Most likely not, but that’s the enchantment of time isn’t. You learned some time back not to question the universe because it will do whatever it wants. So it goes …
This time, in the grind of time, I decided to revitalize the blog I started over a decade ago. I did so without any faith in my writing. Truthfully, I didn’t have any faith in myself. Eight months in today, my doubt has begun to fade. Yet, I ask myself whether or not my doubt is over? Despite this, every night right before bed, I rant by the light of an LED lamp.
I don’t rant for fame or glory; I write for sanity. I expose my scars and whisper my secrets. Once, I held them close to my heart. Like that was the move to make. As if sanity resided neath the scars because I could trust myself and no one else. No one would understand my demons; I didn’t understand them myself. This is what I told myself. It was belief, nay, my conviction. This is how depression is; this is how it pulls you in.
I thought I could be a conduit for someone else pain, grief, and anguish. In reality, I’m confessing my sins of war. The war within myself. My biggest risk is releasing the insomniac rants to the public. Yet, I have been doing it, you say? I have a few short story collections and a few novels I’ve been holding back. I hear the senior editor’s voice in my head, “What are you waiting on?”
Insomnia is back. It was harder than usual this time as if she had something to prove. Like I had been two-timing her that slut Slumber, her word, not mine. The truth is Slumber has been good as of late. Her tender caresses lulled me into a much needed state. My body has been enduring a special kind of hell brought on by my devotion to Insomnia. In the wee hours of the morning, I lay there staring at the ceiling as if some cosmic truth would be revealed at any moment. The answer to an unasked existential question would materialize from the shadows. My notebook lay open at my desk. My Parker lay next to it.
“Psst…Psst.” I heard the Parker whisper.
I refused to surrender to temptation. I stayed strong. I am committed to the cause of what I don’t know. I’m so tired I don’t care.
Dawn’s arrived; her light caressed my body and whispered my name, “Mangus! Mangus!” Each time, a little louder in her honey voice. I raise my head, but Slumber pulls me back. I felt her warm breath across my ear, and then I felt a flick of her tongue on my ear lobe. I resist and sit on the edge of the bed. I look back at her. Her gaze is majestic, her touch serene.
“Go, I’ll be here when you get back,” she whispered.
I pumped a lot of iron listening to this song. I don’t understand why I’ve been moved so much by this track. Perhaps it was because I felt like a zombie after returning from deployment. I’ve been listening to it while I wrote these posts tonight. It still has a hold on me. It’s powerful yet soothing. The words seem to be flowing. Tonight’s Late Night Groove is Zombie by The Cranberries.
I never thought I had what it takes to be a father. I felt I wasn’t caring enough. You know, those guys on television and movies make it so easy. They always knew exactly what to say at the proper moment. I’m not those guys. Constantly, I’m saying the wrong things all the time. Damn, an appropriate moment. If there is saying the wrong thing I’m good at, it is sticking my foot in my mouth. Shell-toe Adidas tastes decent, but I prefer Chuck’s. The more worn, the better.
So, I bet you are wondering if I’m a complete screw-up at being a father; how could it be the thing I’m the most proud of. It’s simple, I had to bust my ass to earn the title. I’ve put more energy into being a father than anything else. So, any accomplishments I’ve made were hard fought ones. So this makes their reward sweeter. However, I can’t rest on the fruits of my labor. Fatherhood continues to be challenging well into their adulthood. Their problems are bigger for some reason. What happened to the days of hair disasters, outfit malfunctions, and broken hearts.
I wish I had been around more for them. My occupation prevented the deep connections fathers sometimes have with their children. There are so many I couldn’t discuss with my family. So, I was an idiot and didn’t talk at all. That was a definite moment of brilliance (eye-roll). So, I provided them useless facts they couldn’t apply to most things due to the fact they didn’t live in the kind of world where knowledge of this sort was required. I ensured they didn’t have to deal with the madness I had as a child.
While raising my children, I suffered from PTSD. I thought I was tough enough to deal with the condition alone. Yeah, I was that jackass. Despite this, I’ve maintained a relationship with the children and the grandchildren. With the missed bedtime stories, Christmases, birthdays, and all the other things I missed I was trying to make the world better for them. I’m a lucky and blessed S.O.B., my sacrifices could have cost me the very thing I was trying to keep safe.
Usually, on Late Nigh Groove, I post favorites from the past. However, tonight, I’ve decided to post a track from a current artist. Tonight’s track is Machine Gun by Badflower. I’ve seen this band several times, and they are great. I’d love to see where their talent will take them.
Where the Blackbird Sings: A storyline from the past I’ve been updating. I don’t currently have any intention on the purpose of this story. Whether it’s going to remain a short story or something more extensive. The most important aspect of this story is to continue writing until the story is complete.
Till the Sun Turns Black: An unfinished novel I’ve been playing around with for over a decade. Lately, I’ve been reexamining different portions of the manuscript, looking for new ways to make the story more compelling.
Unnamed Story: I’m currently working on a project initiated by another writer who could not complete it. This project is challenging because the initial concept wasn’t mine. In addition, it’s written from a female first-person POV. Since I’m not a woman, not having the protagonist sound masculine is complicated.
That’s all I have right now. Of course, I have several unnamed projects, but I have learned recently I need to prioritize my project to ensure completion.
Since it’s Saturday night, I figured I would share a few, just a few of my favorite songs about Saturday night. It’s weird that I typically listen to them anytime other than Saturday night. Most of these songs are from my youth. I was watching MTV in front of my parents’ floor model television. I wore out cassette tapes playing these songs on boomboxes and car stereos. I remember being sweaty from dancing on the dance floor with my latest crush. I hope you enjoy them like I did.
Today, I realized I don’t have the mindset to have a lazy day and relax. I grew up believing you worked hard throughout the week and did chores around the house on the weekends. Saturday was the primary day of work. Sunday, I finished things up and prepared for the upcoming week. This logic has been the way, and I find no fault in its structure.
It’s strange how life can change your perspective on things whether you like it or not. I’ve mentioned my recent illness, which has caused me to change my lifestyle. Well, I am attempting to change it. Old habits are hard to break. I require much more rest than usual. I’m napping frequently and not getting a damn thing done. WTF, I appear to be getting soft. I can’t be having that. However, I must be honest with myself.
Honestly, I view my lack of progress in my chores around the house as unproductive, but in reality, getting a proper rest is very productive. I just need to be patient with myself.
It’s been a long week; I wasn’t sure I would make it. Work wasn’t particularly stressful, but I struggled mentally to get through it. I had a photoshoot yesterday, and I’d forgotten how physically taxing photoshoots can be. It was an open area shoot of a fantastic community event. I felt alive until the end of the day. My shoulders ached, and my legs felt like rubber. I fell asleep trying to process the photos from the shoot.
Despite the struggle, I got some beautiful shots I wish I could share but can’t. I didn’t have the opportunity to shoot any artistic shots. I was too busy, and I still haven’t regained all the strength from my recent illness. So today, I’m worn out. However, it’s through strife that we gain strength of character. Also, each day is a blessing and not a curse. Stay strong and keep fighting.
I can’t remember why I started this. I can’t see where it was supposed to go. I know there was reason, a pretty good I’m sure. I probably crafted some clever dialogue to explain my actions if someone were to ask. No one did. I must remember I didn’t start writing to post on a blog. Hell, I didn’t start writing to be read. I wrote as a means to understand the stirring voices in my head.
Yes, I understand how that sounds. I concede you might have gone mental. I assure you I haven’t. I’m a writer who is attempting to write honestly about a topic. You guys would sense me being full of crap in a heartbeat. Throughout the years, I tried to force the things I wanted to write. I fell pray to the …
“Hey, this seems interesting.” or
“I got a great response to this piece; let’s write more about this, you think?” Or
“This is my signature piece.”
Yeah, limiting myself, like it is the thing to do. I didn’t have to worry about being put in a box or labeled. I did it myself. Constantly, I waged war against myself about the things that ended up on the page. Instead of WRITING SHIT LIKE YOU MEAN IT! I wrote these quaint pieces trying to find the formula that works.
“Sometimes in writing we stumble into a story …other times we trip and fall over what we intended to write.
Mangus Khan – 2015
I truly enjoy the ability to create something out of nothing. Well, not really nothing, but more precisely, use everything to create a believable story. I’ve used a portion of overheard conversations, witnessed events, or conjured a scene from the splinters of my mind. Whichever the source, the joy is finding a way to string them together into something meaningful… I hope.
I’ve lectured about writers being time travelers of a sort. No one ever gets where I’m coming from when I make this statement. My point is simple, actually. We have the power to rewrite history to suit ourselves. As long as we make the story compelling. When we are making up stuff, it doesn’t have to necessarily be believable. Some of the most ridiculous stories are compelling. We laugh out loud or shake our heads as we finish the story.
I used to worry about what the reader would think about what I had to say. This is important to a degree. I used to worry about so much I would actually get stuck and stop writing. Or even worse, the idea would never see the page. I’ve told my writing team hundreds of ideas but never written. It was as if I whispered into the wind, hoping another writer in an unknown destination or time would hear it and write it down.
All this was before I began to believe in myself and the writing process. I stop trying to force my will onto the subject matter. I learned to let go and trip and fall into it.
Most importantly, I’ve learned to enjoy the entire process. For example, this very post I started writing it back in August. Of course, I had a lot to say about what I enjoy about writing. Oh yeah, let me tell you all about that about it. Let’s not. I’m good. Aren’t you?
This blog wasn’t supposed to be what it has become. I was ready to quit before I wrote the first post. However, I’ve kept going; believe me, this year has been incredible. I couldn’t imagine the success I’ve had here. You guys have taught me so much about writing as well as assisted me in realizing things about myself. Then, I wonder about stuff like this …
Will it matter how many doors opened, portals gazed through, or notebooks filled? Will we truly say all that we hear in the silence? Only you can answer these questions in the words you write. I wish words of kindness and love would replace the hatred lurking in the soul of man. I wish the tears that drench these pages were of joy instead of sorrow. I hope for a better tomorrow.
I wish what we find in our darkest hour, we embrace its truth. We have hid too long from who we really are. I wish that truth flourishes, providing the wisdom necessary as we bare our souls. It will be liberating to walk from behind the veil of another person’s ideal. I wish this unveiled soul speaks with passion and dignity, knowing by doing so, the words will be spoken with honor. I wish we could free ourselves and honestly speak soulfully.
“The essential thing is that you write about something you really care about. Identifying that something, however, is not always easy. Are surrounded by received opinion, a constant barrage of information, drama, ideas, and judgements offended us live, printed, and electronic. It is so much easier to know what we ought to think and feel then what we actually do. “
With that being said, I often find it difficult to find subjects I would like to write about. It’s challenging to make interesting content. However, I feel it’s critical to be honest with yourself as a writer. My favorite portion of writing is creating phrases. When I’m editing, I just want it to be over. However, I realize a properly edited piece can turn good writing into excellent writing. I didn’t always feel this way. Just ask my senior editor. I’m sure there were several moments when if she could have got her hands on me. It would not have been good for me. Sometimes writing is like …
The night whispers have faded as dawn stretches with one eye open and the other squinted. Caffeine burns through my bloodstream as I roll myself a cigarette in the early morning strain. Lately, my words don’t seem like mine; they are flat and lifeless as if my pen has lost its courage. The words tease as they linger on the tip of my tongue. Though submerged in this state of bewilderment, my face distorts into a smile. I realize that I have been preparing for this conversation for years. It became clear the difficulties never change. One minute, you stare blankly into the nothingness, and the next, you find yourself face down on your desk with slobber-drenched hair and coffee-stained lips. The result is a story about you, which is nothing more than a reflection about me, pulsing happily on a word processor.
While trying to remember, every word, sentence, or paragraph is another attempt for writers to learn to fly.
The other day, I was talking to a close friend, telling her I can’t expect many views because I’m not selling a product. Therefore, the SEO strategy should be different. She looked at me momentarily as if waiting for me to say something.
“The product you are selling is you. So, in this case, you have cornered the market; you are unique and exclusive.”
I look at this question and laugh. I know it isn’t intended to be funny, but it is. I don’t have a clue how to answer this question. Perhaps if I approach it in reverse. I know what makes a bad neighbor. I’ve had a few of those over the years. The kind of people who complain about the length of your grass. The polite suggestion of adding a coat of paint to your house.
However, I have neighbors bring baked goods to welcome my family to the neighborhood. I never trusted the sentiment. Perhaps, it’s my inability to understand the merits of strangers knocking on my door with a casserole. If you want to win me over, let’s start with a chocolate cake, a minimum of two layers. My wife asked once, “What kind of cave were you brought up in?” I looked at her before speaking. This time, I actually considered my response.
“It was quite nice. Quiet, low light, and no neighbors bringing random casserole. Honey, you know I don’t do random casserole.”
She looked at me momentarily with a smile slowly creeping to the corners of her face. She did her best not to laugh. There was even a flash of annoyance, but it didn’t hold. She walked away, muttering something about, “How crazy I can I be?”
As a kid, I spent hours watching a TV show, “The Man from Atlantis,” starring Patrick Duffy. This show was before he rose to fame as “Bobby Ewing” on the iconic drama Dallas. It was a horrible television show I barely remember. However, do remember spending time at the local swimming pool trying to mimic his swimming style. Now, I didn’t have much success in this endeavor. A fact I chalked up to me not being an Atlantean. I went to my mother and explained my plight. “Boy, you are crazy,” she replied as she shrugged on her coat, heading off to work.
Here’s a clip from the Man from Atlantis
I decided to give my explanation another try with my grandmother. She didn’t even respond. Well, not in a way I was accustomed. She sat me down for what would become one of the few shows we enjoyed together. I didn’t understand most of the show, but I thought it was cool. Swimming around underwater and whatnot is precisely what I will do when I grow up. Who needs superpowers or any of that stuff. Deep sea exploration was where it was at.
Here is Mimi’s show we shared together.
I hadn’t thought about any of this stuff for years. I’m almost ashamed when I think about how I jumped from career to career. But that’s what we do when we are young. We try out different opportunities before settling on a career that will last us a lifetime. Provide us fulfillment and joy. A career that, when we retire, we know our efforts made a difference.
Wow! I’m sorry, I have no idea where that bullshit came from. I guess since I was feeling nostalgic, it opened a portal to memories of people feeding me that line as they clearly wanted to be someplace else. I didn’t have the snark to call it on them then. It’s okay if I ever finish the time machine in my basement. I have enough snark now to handle the situation appropriately. Yep, I wanted to be a deep sea explorer and have all the cool toys. I would try it now if I was healthy enough and had a shot. Why the hell not!
Sometimes, the day just sucks. That’s how it is. No amount of positive affirmations can wipe away the stench of the day. Politics instead of actually doing something that matters. We can’t actually help some one. We play the role of helping and wait for the smiles of gratitude for your faux assistance. You drown in a vat of your own contempt.
A woman walking the halls we like she owns the place. Not because she is being rude or commanding, but because we are willing to give here whatever she needs. You don’t have an option, its just the right thing to do. I watch the plastic people trip over themselves and I continue watching, wondering …What I have to do?
I’ve always felt that people who do things as a matter of principle are full of crap. Typically, I’ve found they will remain steadfast with whatever the principal absence of any logical evidence. I don’t think they mean to do this intentionally, at least not right off. Sometimes, I feel they get caught up in the need to be right. Perhaps it is the fear of being wrong. Whichever the case, I find the result illogical to the point of insanity at times.
Most of us live by a set of rules, standards, or codes established based on a series of events that have occurred in our lifetime. Everyone has different standards because we process things differently. The crazy thing is that the standards we set change over time. Some things no longer have the Importance they once had. In these circumstances, we sometimes have difficulty accepting the changes. Honestly, accepting the changes is a demon most people face in various situations. Nobody is expecting you to admit this, not at all. Because denial is our next favorite thing.
Some common principles that people live by include:
Honesty: Being truthful and sincere in all interactions. This principle emphasizes the importance of transparency and trustworthiness in our dealings with others. It involves speaking the truth, keeping promises, and acting with integrity.
Respect: Treating others with kindness, dignity, and consideration. Respecting others means valuing their opinions, beliefs, and boundaries. It involves listening attentively, being open-minded, and refraining from judgment. By showing respect, we create a positive and inclusive environment for everyone.
Integrity: Acting in alignment with one’s values and moral principles. Integrity is about doing the right thing, even when no one is watching. It involves being honest, ethical, and accountable for our actions. We build trust and credibility in our personal and professional relationships by practicing integrity.
Responsibility: Taking ownership of one’s actions and obligations. Being responsible means fulfilling our duties and commitments. It involves being reliable, punctual, and accountable for the consequences of our choices. By being trustworthy, we demonstrate maturity and contribute to the well-being of our communities.
Compassion: Showing empathy and understanding towards others. Compassion involves recognizing and alleviating the suffering of others. It involves being kind, caring, and supportive. By practicing compassion, we foster connection and promote a more compassionate society.
Perseverance: Persisting and staying committed in the face of challenges. Perseverance is about not giving up when faced with obstacles or setbacks. It involves staying focused, motivated, and resilient. By practicing perseverance, we can achieve our goals and overcome adversity.
Gratitude: Appreciating and expressing thankfulness for what one has. Gratitude involves recognizing and acknowledging the blessings in our lives. It involves being thankful for the people, experiences, and opportunities that enrich our existence. We cultivate a positive mindset and enhance our overall well-being by cultivating gratitude.
Forgiveness: Letting go of resentments and granting forgiveness. Forgiveness involves releasing anger, bitterness, and grudges towards others. It consists in choosing to move forward and free ourselves from negativity. By practicing forgiveness, we promote healing and create space for personal growth.
Generosity: Sharing resources, time, and kindness with others. Generosity entails giving without expecting anything in return. It involves being selfless, compassionate, and supportive. By practicing generosity, we contribute to the happiness and well-being of others.
Humility: Recognizing and accepting one’s limitations and imperfections. Humility is about having a modest and humble attitude towards oneself. It involves acknowledging that we are not perfect and being open to learning from others. We foster humility, respect, and collaboration in our interactions by embracing humility.
These are only a few examples of the types of principles we use to define ourselves. I use a combination of some of these principles in varying degrees. I think it is crucial for me to do my best to be true to the person I strive to be.
Sometimes the sky leaves you speechless. You can’t really describe what you are looking at and how this sight makes you feel. All you can do is snap a picture to capture the moment for another time.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to decide what things have the greatest priority. Everyone has so many things going on in their lives the only thing we can seem to do is breathe. Sometimes, we can only take quick and shallow breaths. Despite my daily tasks, my primary priority must always be doing all it takes to make a difference. I concede this priority is challenging, and perhaps I should choose a smaller task. One easier to complete, but this isn’t how I roll. It never has been.
When I wrote full-time, my writing team constantly accused me of procrastinating. We created several blogs, writing workshops, and countless other writing-related things during this time. Due to this, I wondered why they would say such a thing. I admit I might have been a little wounded. Just a tad. Then, one day, my senior editor had a conversation with me. If I’m being honest, it was more scolding. I felt like a child in the corner, sucking my thumb. Ready to blurt out, “I’m sorry, and I will never do it again,” at the proper moment. You know, timing is everything when it comes to apologies.
It wasn’t about everything we had accomplished; it was a single question about one thing. I hadn’t done. She wanted to know why I hadn’t finished my novels. She had every right to question me; I was writing a novel when we met. I couldn’t answer her then, nor can I answer her now. Worst of all, I have no answers for myself. Oh, I’ve several excuses for not finishing. However, none of them had any iron. It was like there were empty promises we tell ourselves in the moments of doubt. Despite this, since my reemergence, I have continued to write. My progress has been slow, as each sentence brings me closer to finding my way.
Recently, she expressed her delight in my bringing new light to some old stories in the archives. So, she hasn’t been giving me a hard time lately. I’m incredibly grateful to my imagination and Ursula, my muse, for assisting. She can be a pain in the ass when she doesn’t get her words. It’s a whole story by itself. I don’t have a reason why I have finished writing my novels, but I’m writing again. Right now, that must be enough. What I do know, it feels good to be writing again. I feel stronger than I have in some time.
Some of my close friends may say I’ve never grown up. It’s almost like I’m clowning around all the time. Then, a group of my closest friends entertain the thought I was born old. A small faction questions whether or not I was born fully grown. I must admit there is a lack of any photographic evidence proving my suspected childhood.
I contend I have an old soul. Yes, let’s go with that phrase. I fondly remember several elders in my childhood using it, referring to me. With this, I conclude that I must have routinely conducted myself well beyond my years. As such, I can’t put together a confirmed time when I first felt like a grown-up. I say it wasn’t the time I kissed a girl or anything. In fact, I don’t even consider when I first entered the military as an adult. I certainly do adult things, but whether I was a grown-up, nah!
However, I was in the military when the haunting moment of adulthood crept into my psyche. Something about facing your mortality tends to snap the child right out of you. It wasn’t the first time, but several events happening in 12 months did the trick. So, there I was, living in another part of the world, trying my best not to take anything seriously. Then, BOOM! It happened I was a grown-up.
Tonight, on Late Night Groove, we are traveling back to 1969. The band we know as Chicago was formed in 1967. However, when they were formed they were called the Chicago Transit Authority. In 1969, they released their debut album. Here is one of my favorite tracks from that album.
Tonight on Late Night Groove, we are traveling to 1973 to play a track from one of my favorite albums. Herbie Hancock has always been a visionary when it came to music. My generation remembers break dancing or pop-locking to Rock It. I must have played that 12-inch to death. I remember my mother cringing each time she heard the opening. Luckily, my mother was a music lover; I’m convinced this is where I got my love for music.
The Madre had a sneaky side; she laid out various jazz albums around the house for me to find. This is when I discovered Herbie Hancock had more music out there than the music I knew. In 1973, he released an album entitled Headhunters, which featured the standard “Watermelon Man.” Though I love the track, I prefer a track I discovered on the B-Side of a 12-inch from my collection. The track is called “Chameleon”. This track is over 15 minutes long, but I find myself getting lost in the magic of it.
I remember the first time I heard this song. I fell in love with it instantly. I was so young, but it felt like this song was going to be the title track to life. In many ways, I think it has been.
It is funny how some songs stick with us for a lifetime, even though how we feel about them changes. Somehow, they remain important. However, it’s freaky how some music that meant so much to us at the time, when played again years later, doesn’t hit the same. Isn’t it like that for everything?
Of course, during a long weekend, I get a sinus cold. Between the sneezing, napping, and blowing my nose, I’ve been able to do a little editing. For the record, Puffs Plus are amazing. Pre Covid, I went to the local reserves and tried out my camera. It had been a while since I had shot any stills, but I had a good time.
This tree looked weird, so I snapped a few shots. I’ve no idea what is growing on it. It must be some sort of fungus.
A fallen tree. I wonder if anyone heard it fall.
More Fungus?
A cardinal hiding from me
A sparrow
I hope you enjoy these. I’ll try to do some color shots after a nap.
Manu Jenkins and Maury Lawrance faced off back in the 1950s. This face-off changed how things were at The Paradise drive-in. Manu Jenkins, “Jinxy” people called him, and Maury weren’t gang members, just guys who couldn’t back down. Only to find themselves in a situation that lasted a lifetime. This face-off leads to the development of the neutral zone. The neutral zone is no gang activity at the drive-in. Anyone caught fighting at the Paradise was banned for life. That was the law of the land for as long as anyone could remember.
According to Jinxy, “The Paradise” was the only place in town where you could walk around without anyone beating you senseless. Old Lonnie Lawrence, Maury’s father, had everything: swings, slides, cotton candy, and make-out spots. Jinxy nudged me with his elbow, smiling. “That’s where I met my sweet Pearl.” He said, staring off as if trapped inside a memory. Then, finally, he leaned back and smiled. I wondered if he was watching the movie from that night. Praline Madsen “Pearl” was his wife of forty years before going home to glory. Jinxy didn’t make it to the following fall. Jinxy and Pearl, PaPa and Nanna, seemed to me to be a love story, exactly like one that played at “The Paradise.”
Forty years later, My little brother, Trey, wanted to see a double feature playing there this weekend. Bruce Lee’s Chinese Connection and The Game of Death. I was 17, and hanging out with your 12-year-old little brother when you were supposed to be chasing tail wasn’t ideal, but I loved Bruce Lee just as much as he did. To get to the “Paradise,” we had to cross enemy territory. The Paradise may have been the neutral zone, but the surrounding neighborhood wasn’t. I knew the 6th Ave boys owed me a few beatings for jumping a couple of them when they got caught in my neighborhood. Trey didn’t know anything about my part in the beating, but he had witnessed a few as they happened.
“Moe?”
“Yeah, Trey.”
“Why are they beating that man? What did he do?”
“Nothing, Trey … Just in the wrong place; wrong time…you know?”
What’s a topic or issue about which you’ve changed your mind?
DAILY PROMPT RESPONSE
It isn’t easy to change a person’s mind once it’s been set. It’s a matter of principle, I suppose. Some may call it stubbornness. These words are thrown about when we have questions like these. I was brought to believe I mustn’t be afraid of anything. There is no way you should be scared. Especially if you’re a man. Men must be fearless. We are celebrated for bravery and courage. As a man, we know there will be times when we may experience fear, but we mustn’t allow it to consume us.
Throughout my life, I witnessed several men plunge into danger for the sake of the appearance of bravery and courage. These situations diminish with age. Yet, what I come to discuss today isn’t the outward expression of bravery and courage, but I want to talk about when we need to internalize those traits to battle the most brutal enemy we will ever face: ourselves.
As a man of a certain age, we were taught to be tough. For me, this meant I swallowed my emotions. I mustn’t express any feeling that wasn’t acceptable. I did this rather well. At least, I believed this until the things I buried began to rear their ugly heads. I’ve made several posts where I mentioned battling demons or my monster. It’s easy to believe I have something inside of me that I can fight and possibly defeat one day. The tricky thing is to admit these demons and monsters are a part of me. It’s even harder to admit I’m a part of them.
In the aftermath of the unintended consequences of my errors in judgment. I realize and believe it’s okay to be afraid.
I sighed heavily as I sat down to partake in a meal scarcely worth the coin. This meal is just another example of something we have little control over. I was eating because you’re supposed to, not because I was hungry. We are creatures of habit, products of routine, drones of a cosmic age. Moments ago, the sun was beating on the back of my neck, warming my entire being, As I sat alone in silence, lost in thought, waiting. Unsure what was to come. Yet, I sat waiting. I open my notebook.
It’s incredible what one hears in the silence. In this world, there isn’t any silence, not really. The noise is deafening, televisions blaring, but no one is listening. Humanity seems lost in the world of tiny screens and wrapped in the lives of make-believe. We are judging reality with contempt for having the nerve to be unfilling. We are having conversations that we aren’t paying attention to. Only to become offended for being misunderstood. We are spending our time poking fun at the unfortunate. Secretly, thankful we aren’t them.
It’s funny how one can never control when the words come or what they truly mean. We write and write until the movement has passed. Now, the once empty page; full. Turning the page, waiting for the next word to appear from the nothingness. Waiting for magic!
When I look at questions like these, they are so simple on the surface. I answer them in a few short lines: a witty remark or snarky comment. The simple answer for me is my world be so quiet and peaceful. There is no constant notifications of sales on anti-virus software, no Cialis sold at cost, or the lonely mature women needing to be serviced who are waiting for you just a click away. There are no ads from Classmates.com urging you to reconnect with people you don’t remember or are desperately trying to forget.
I would sit back in my easy chair and recall life from a different time. Something so long ago, it sometimes feels like a fairy tale or bedtime story. I stayed up late with my flashlight, reading the latest installment of Conan. My auntie kept my supply stocked. I read them exactly once before stacking them neatly in a trunk. I’d hear my mother coming down the hall to ensure I was in bed. I’d quickly shift to my side and pretend to be asleep. My mother never bought my act but never called me on it. I returned the favor when my daughters would read Goosebumps and The Babysitters Club.
When my children were young, I would sit quietly, reading by the light of the fireplace. My dogs were nestled nearby. They looked as if they were asleep like the children, but they did a lot of pretending as well. Yes, these simplistic scenes are nice and pleasant as we look at this question on the surface. So, let’s be bold and take a peep into the abyss. Before we get started, let me put on a little mood music. Led Zeppelin’s In Through the Out Door will do nicely.
Let’s begin with the basic survival needs. My life without a computer would be dark, cold, hot, or anything else that occurs in the absence of electricity. A computer system manages the current power grid. No computer, no power, it’s that simple. With no electricity, my refrigerator and freezer would unthaw. My food supply would take a drastic hit. I couldn’t keep my medication at the proper temperature. So, it diminishes my survival chances with each second that ticks away.
You figured I could go to the store and purchase more food, right? Say the grocery store has a backup generator, so their products have survived. However, I couldn’t ring up my purchases because a class 2 laser reads the bar codes, and they feed information into what? That’s right, a computer. Let’s remember the use of electronic funds. We could go to the bank and get cash, but wait… the tellers use a computer to access your banking information…oops!
Soon, we would run out of gas, so there goes the backup generators. No? Well, a computer-assisted system runs the pumps of today. Not to mention, computer systems run all the refineries. Oh yeah, I forgot, computers also run the food processing plants.
Do you want to hear something strange? The things I listed in this post are just scratching the surface, like the question. Despite this, we can get a glimpse of how deeply computers integrate into our daily lives. Yeah, if things were that simple.
Throughout most of my life, I have been a detail-oriented person. I suppose I been this way due to a fear of making a mistake. I’m unsure if I realized that fact before I sat down to write this post. However, if success is to had by examing the merits of today’s prompt; honesty is paramount.
What I find peculiar about this whole affair is that I usually don’t miss a thing. All my bases are covered. My backup plans are worked out and in place. I habitually have a contingency for most situations I find myself involved in. So typically, the answer to questions like these is “I’ve squared away.” However, being squared away today is the furthest from the truth than it has been in a very long time.
I’ve mentioned in several posts I have been experiencing some health issues. With this comes a series of lifestyle changes. I’m not exactly pleased by this development and tend to demonstrate the “fuck it” attitude. However, my circles of friends, or better yet, the family I have chosen, have made abundantly clear they are seconds from kicking my butt if I don’t start taking things seriously. I’ve been on this earth long enough to recognize when the threat is real.
So what does all this actually mean? I need to make the appropriate changes to my lifestyle. I need to use my ability to sweat the details to ensure I doing it the right way. I do this for myself and no one else. Well, that’s the right thing to say, yet there is truth and iron in these words. However, it isn’t lost on me that, My family and friends would appreciate my presence as long as possible. There’s nothing better than love felt from your people. Plus, I’m getting a little too old to take a beating.
When considering today’s prompt I think about all the things I cram into my head regularly. I’m passionate about learning new things that interest me. I believe I have always been this way or at least, as far back as I can remember.
My mother called me a “curious little fella.” She had these eyes that summed you up in a glance. So, there was no use lying to her. Just, tell it straight. It was better for anybody in the end. She brought a bunch of those Curious George books. Wow, do you remember those things? I read them a couple of times.
Then came the dictionaries and then the encyclopedias. I spent hours reading and scribbling in my spiral notebooks. Here is the funny thing I can remember a single thing I learned from reading those books. I must learned a great deal, obviously. Yet, I can’t remember a moment reading them where the light bulb in my mind lighted up.
My ability to absorb information and apply information has served well in over the years. However, this ability comes with a cost. Sometimes heavier than others, but a cost none the less. My obsessive nature for learning, causes stress and anxiety. To look at me, I display no outwards signs, I assure you I’m emotionally compromised.
This attitude of mine has taking its toll on my mind, body, and spirit. With all this, the skill I need to learn: is the ability to relax. I know that sounds easy enough, but its not.
The short answer would be satisfaction. However, satisfaction doesn’t seem to be a strong enough word to describe my feelings after hard work. Though, being a writer, one would think I could find the appropriate word, but there are things in life that can’t be described but felt.
Daylight slipped into the darkness. The streets have begun to empty. People have started to enter the safety of their homes. A mother is sipping a cup of tea after a hard day’s work. A father making dinner for his children and a sister reading a story to her brother before bedtime.
Hoyt Curtis sits in the dark, staring at nothing in particular. A disassembled .45 ACP on a table in front of him. He and his .45 never met a problem they couldn’t solve. At least, that’s what he would tell himself every time it pointed at its target. However, the truth is it caused far more problems than it ever solved. A picture of his family lay on the window sill. A family that walked away from him 10 years ago. That’s when his wife had reached her limit. The man she loved and became someone else.
Hoyt couldn’t blame her. It was true. The safest thing was for her children to leave. His demons were taking over. They had taken up residence in the front room of his mind. The bastards had the nerve to put their feet on his hand-carved Italian coffee table. He believed his family was better off without him. It was his job to keep them safe, even if it was from him.
I’ve known by many names in my lifetime. Some flattering, others not so much. However, I say I earned every one of them. I take a certain measure of pride in these names, all of them, especially the one not so flattering. No matter the duration, people took the time to bless me with a moniker.
I realize some may consider this approach brazen to romanticize, which I guess could be regarded as an insult.
I Laugh every time.
However, I realize my nicknames depend on the company I keep. With one group of friends, I’m this. Another group I’m that. There’s always a zany story behind each of them. A personal anecdote shared between a group of people. A tether to a moment that contains something significant.
List three jobs you’d consider pursuing if money didn’t matter.
PROSE – RANT -REFLECTION
When I started working, I had no idea what I wanted to do or, better yet, what I was doing. I remember working to help my mother so I could help buy school clothes. Whenever I went to work, it seemed to be for a purpose other than money. Yes, money is an obvious by-product, but it wasn’t a primary reason.
Throughout my life, I did whatever was necessary to care for my family. However, I reached a point in my life where things are simpler. So, today’s prompt is an easy one to answer. Let’s establish a few ground rules.
Magic resides in the hearts of every species on the planet. We must remember to believe in the power and beauty inside us. Be Magical!
Time Travel is real. Nothing else needs to be said.
So, with the establishment of the above parameters I will list jobs I would like to have.
Radio Disc jockey circa. 1950’s: This is the birth of music as we know it. Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Sister Rosetta Thorpe, and the list goes on.
Used Bookstore Owner circa 2050: Books will be relics by then. Most people would have never heard of a book. Therefore, traffic would be minimal. This means I sit around reading all day, and no one would think I’m being lazy. It’s my job, who cares about the money.
Owner of a 24-Hour Diner Why? because diner food is awesome. And I could sit and drink coffee while writing down my time-travel adventures.
It’s foggy outside, but I’ve never been clearer I’ve failed you in the worst possible way I became something other than what I needed to be I felt I needed to be something other than who I am If the failure to you isn’t bad enough, the greatest failure of all is to myself .
When I grew up, we were defined by the clothes we wore. At least, I thought so. Madre Khan was poor, but she did the best she could. There was never a night I went to sleep hungry or ever wondered where I was going to lay my head. A fact I can certainly appreciate now, even if I didn’t know how then. It’s funny how we sometimes realize how fortunate we are until much later. I suppose it always works that way.
During my childhood, we had the “generic” label craze. I can remember being glad it was over, but now I find myself a little nostalgic. We were raised on the ideals like.
“You pay for what you get.”
“You pay for quality.”
I could go on for days, but I’m sure you get the idea because you have heard them a time or two. I remember my stepmother complaining about how I spent my money. I smiled and told her I buy what I need; I rarely worry about the price. She looked at me like I had lost my mind. I imagine to her I had. She grew up during an era when things were tight and scarce.
I wear Dickies apparel for leisure on most days. I hardly entertain anything else. I like the way they feel and their durability. Most of my office accessories are Logitech because they typically make a solid product with a good life. I’m an Apple guy on everything but my phone. I have solid reasons for each of my choices. Well, at least that’s what I tell myself. If I change brands, I will research it if I can.
I wish I wasn’t such a brand whore, but I like what I like. I’m good with that.
As thinking about this prompt, I keep coming back to central idea I have used for most of life.
“Take Care of Business”
However, today it takes on new meaning. I spent a tremendous amount of time worrying about taking care of the needs of others. I accomplished this in some of the most clever ways. The needs of others were the most important to me and in many ways it remains so. However, in my current physical state this can no longer be the priority.
Somehow, I must move beyond my natural inclinations and focus on myself. Somehow, I need to apply the wisdom I’ve gained to myself. I say these things out loud hoping I will listen. I question my ability to render assistance to anyone if I’m not able to hold up my end. Let’s be clear here, holding up my end is taking care of myself to I can live the fullest life possible. My family and friends would be grateful.
Perhaps, they could think of me, without wondering if I’m doing the right things. Of course they can.
If you will excuse me. I have some business to tend to. Its lunch time and there’s a disgustingly delicious salad waiting for me.
For most of my children’s lives, I was a soldier doing what was required for God and country. Because of this fact, I’ve always felt they didn’t have the father they deserved. This feeling didn’t stop there. I also felt their mother should have picked a better man to build a family. I didn’t feel this way because of anything my girls had done or said. It was just me looking back over things. I wouldn’t change my decision to marry their mother. I just wish I was around more. Yet, I always asked her to kiss the girls for me.
I can certainly say with confidence the hardest job I have ever had has been being a father of daughters. I often wondered if God was trying to get me back for my youthful indiscretions. I learned as much from them as they learned from me. They have made me a better man than I could have been without them. They had to endure a moody stoic who would rather write down his thoughts than verbalize them. A man suffering from a condition I didn’t know existed.
Despite this you still love me, so on this day National Daughter’s Day, I thank you for your assistance in making me a better version of who I am. I apologize for not having the courage to get help sooner. I love you, and you must never doubt this …
Today’s been a good day. There were a few moments where I felt like crap, but they were temporary. Perhaps things are returning to normal. I’m a little fearful to say it aloud; I might jinx it. I was walking into the store to pick up a few items, and when I got to the register, I realized I wasn’t tired. Smiling, as I returned to my truck, I looked up and saw this strange sky.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this sky represented my current state. I spent the weekend listening to a lot of hippie-dippie stuff. I think this hippie-dippie stuff might be affecting my brain; someone give me a cigarette. That’s right I’m supposed to be quitting.
What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?
DAILY PROMPT/CHALLENGES
For the quote of the day, I posted a quote by Albert Einstein. I chose it because of its connection to today daily prompt.
On numerous occasions throughout my life, some variation of the quote itself or its resolution.
“I know you know, but you really understand?”
“It one thing to know what, but another to understand why you’re doing it”
Phrases like those listed above are as common place as the excuses we come with to justify doing something we know we shouldn’t. You don’t have to think about they sort of roll of the tongue.
Yet, I’m sure you have or perhaps, even felt the following.
“I don’t I really that old saying until right now”
“Wow! That’s nanna meant when she used to say that”
“Is that what Mom meant? I used to give such a hard time”
This weekend I was reminded knowing something is one thing; actually doing something is another. I sat there with nothing to say, because the point was made. It realism hit hard. It spoke a truth I don’t believe I was ready for, but I needed to hear.
So, the best advice I’ve gotten? I try to sum it up quickly …
“It’s not enough to know something; you must also understand it. Then you must figure how you going to apply it. And do wisely.”
Which topics would you like to be more informed about?
PROSE – RANDOM THOUGHTS/REFLECTION/MINI-RANT
I’m always studying something. Constantly scribbling in my notebooks about whatever strikes my fancy. I scribble so much that I spend an enormous amount of money on quality notebooks. No way, I lower myself to use a regular notebook. So what do I do? I discovered how to make my own notebooks. Yay, for me and my ridiculous obsessions.
However, in light of my current health status, I believe I don’t have a choice but to research my conditions. So, let’s take a look.
Hypertension – precisely the long-term effects of uncontrolled hypertension. What are the possible holistic techniques for controlling it?
Insomnia – I have suffered from this condition for years. Perhaps a deeper understanding of the condition will assist in its elimination or minimalization.
Sleep Deprivation – results when one has been an insomniac for decades; who knew?
Gardening – Vegetables, herbs, and sunshine.
I’m looking to discover the wonders within these topics. I have already written two articles concerning sleep disorders.
Yesterday marked a month since my past caught with me. I’ve alluded to my illness in several posts, but I haven’t really discussed the illness. I was sitting in the break area looking at the sky when I saw what looked like sunrays coming from the sky. I viewed them as a symbol of hope I could cling to during this difficult period I’m facing.
Posting on this blog is the only thing I have been able to count. A source of stability if you will. I remember the beauty of nature. I remember I’m a part of it.
I’ve been reading this blog since my return. I always find it insightful and informative. If you haven’t had the pleasure of reading his work, What are you waiting for? Get over there!
Will you remember me when your famous? It is so lovely for you to say so, but I know that you wont. To be honest, I would probably forget me too. So experience, conquer, and live shamelessly.
You see I know that I am nothing more than…. A whisper of a stranger A smile from a fond memory We all know that memories wither and fade
So I add another log onto the fire of life Every so often I poke it To see the spark, hear the pop, and feel the warmth While I sit in admiration and silence …
Name the professional athletes you respect the most and why.
PROSE – OBSERVATION
Regarding professional athletes, we as a society tend to look at them singularly. I never understood why that is, but only to say primarily, I wasn’t any different. However, I’ve read articles telling the exploits of some of these athletes. I cannot name all things done, but I can highlight a few things that have caught my eye.
Nice
Sweet
Four Icon’s
In the above photo, we have NFL legend Jim Brown. He’s featured with Fred Williamson, Jim Kelly, and Richard Roundtree. In their own right, each of these gentlemen justifies the use of the word legend. Probably, they were photographed together because of the filmOne Down, Two to Go (1982), in which they starred. Let’s take a moment to discuss these men.
Jim Brown(1936 – 2023) was an NFL legend who played from (1957 – 1965). Brown is considered one of the best running backs of all time. My introduction to Jim Brown is through his movies. I remember watching his films, but I was unaware he was an athlete then. My uncle sat me down for a long talk about “black heroes” in America. The only thing you can do during one of those talks is keep your mouth shut and nod at the appropriate times. It took a few years to get my timing down, but I eventually got it down cold. I could talk forever about Jim Brown, but this is one last thing I want to point out. Jim Brown had a love scene with Raquel Welch. RESPECT.
Fred Williamsonwas a former professional football player from (1960 – 1967). I discovered him in a B-Movie martial arts film with Cynthia Rockroth. He was the definition of confidence for me at the time. He was just cool. Later, I found he starred in the Blaxploitation films of the seventies. I remember watching many of those films with my aunt. Where I had to sit there in complete silence under the threat of banishment if I opened my inquisitive mouth. A tradition I passed along to my children. I’m happy to see they continued the tradition.
Jim Kellyto me was the ultimate martial artist. Perhaps because I could identify with him. To have a serious set of skills in the arts, but ridiculously cool. Earlier, this year, I wrote a post called Bruce Lee Saved my Life where I mention Mr. Kelly and he influenced my studies in martial arts, which ultimately assisted in shaping my life. I didn’t have the opportunity to grow an afro like he had, but I embraced the improvisation approach to martial arts. Well, at least I tried. My sensai wasn’t having none of that.
Richard Roundtree is the only one pictured who isn’t a professional athlete. Mr. Roundtree became the titular character of the 1971 screen adaptation of Ernest Tidyman’s Shaft. His portrayal of John Shaft has lasted over fifty years. There were 5 films and a short-lived television series. There were seven episodes. Mr. Roundtree was the epitome of cool among my friends. Leather jackets, turtlenecks, and afro were a fashion staple. Thank goodness sideburns were out of fashion before I could grow them.
As a child, I grew up watching Muhammad Ali destroy his opponents. He talked so much trash. I remember some people used him as an example of arrogance and conceit. I told some of the older gentlemen playing checkers in the park. They responded, “Yeah, and he can back it up.” Though I always had profound respect for his athletic prowess, I realized I didn’t know much about the man. If I’m being honest, I still don’t. However, I read an essay discussing a moment in Ali’s life. I found a different sort of respect. I began to respect the man as well as the athlete.
Kareem Abdul-Jabber Earlier this year, I wrote a review about an essay Kareem Abdul Jabber wrote. This essay has a story about an event involving him, Bill Russell, Jim Brown, and Muhammad Ali. Here is a link to the early post: The Knucklehead Report #5. As a basketball player and the shortest center in the game, I watched much of Kareem’s style of play. Mostly, he had court poise, which I was seriously lacking.
I hear your laughter as I write this. I hear the sound your disdain makes as it oozes from your lips. Who I am isn’t enough to satisfy you. Who I am is nothing more than a source of laughter. Certainly, nothing to be respected or loved. I knew who I was when we met. Somewhere along the way, I began believing I was more than I am. If you think about it, the notion is rather pathetic. I realize and accept dealing with me was something done in desperation, something done as a last resort.
I don’t have to guess why this occurred. There is a preponderance of evidence. Yet, my denial is commodious. Foolishly, I opened my heart, knowing I had nothing to offer. I’m a destroyer of love on so many levels; what right do I have to be loved. I suppose, in a way, I’m a selfish jerk who forgot what they had done. Do you believe in fate? Do I have the strength to pull the trigger? Do I have the courage to accept the truth as it stares right in my face?
Standing listening to the whispering darkness as they perforate the perpetual silence. I taste the blood of the wounds neath my scars. I bathe in the memories of the delusion of us I created. I remember your smile, and for one second, I’m hopeful. I wish I could write away the pain of truth. But I have never been that good.
Your silence speaks the truth…
Yet I believe in the lie, it’s safe. Its warmth is soothing like only a lie can do. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be someone you could count on. However, your expression speaks the unspeakable. Still, I sit letting the thoughts free flow. I swallow the tears of beautiful lies. I’m praying somewhere in between delusion and reality there is something there. Something telling me I haven’t been lying to myself all this time.
Whatever it is; I’m accountable. I must be strong despite myself. I used to be afraid of the light and noise. Now I must embrace …
Today’s response is a short one. I just don’t have much to say. I typically forget about holidays. The next things I know someone asking I’m doing for the holidays. My response is nothing.
It’s ridicolous to ask a writer to choose their favorite word. I’m sure many of us have one, but to call us out. Is that even cool?
Of course, it isn’t. So, I’m going to pretend you didn’t even pose such an absurd query. What’s that now? Let’s not waste time with such foolishness.
It was the sixties, I made my entrance with a bang, if I so myself. We listened to peculiar jiggles that were designed to attach themselves to whatever portion of the brain that allow you to forget it. I wish I knew the name of it, perhaps, I wouldn’t have forgotten her name.
It started with this nonsense
Somewhere along the way, words become essential. Yeah, of course, words are important. They are how we communicate. Perhaps the word I’m looking for to explain better the intensity I’m trying to convey. Should I pull out my dictionary and thesaurus?
It’s hard to concentrate because there aso many wonderful words to choose from. I guess I need to speak plainly. I became obsessed with words. I badgered my mother into purchasing a dictionary larger than my head. She finally relented and brought the dictionary with my first journal.
I hadn’t heard of a thesaurus when I started my quest to learn every word. A student teacher, whose name I forgotten, began to explain about the dictionariers mythical companion. She smiled with her eyes and her eyes were the kindest I can remember seeing. She also discussed Schoolhouse Rock with me.
My Secret Superhero
Looking back, I don’t she was very old. At the very least she was still in touch with her inner child. Her guidance helped shaped the writer I eventually became. I just wish I could remember her name.
Memoirs of Madness 