My, recent stretch of Sobriety began on,
Thanksgiving and lasted until Valentines Day.
It wasn't very long after that, that I had begun working
for, Shawn. I have to fill in some of that gap, before I get too far-
<insert pic>
One day, I decided... to get some, "hands-on,"
One day, I decided... to get some, "hands-on,"
in the Studio, making Recordings. At the moment,
I cannot recall how much Time I spent Recording,
but I’m sure that it was, that day,
I cannot recall how much Time I spent Recording,
but I’m sure that it was, that day,
on Valentines Day.
Danny’s Alvarez Guitar, called out to me,
or, it was the Ghost in the house...
Picking it up, I was moved to begin playing-
stopping after a few minutes because,
"something" said that I should Record.
So, I did.
The Making of-
"The Despondent Sea"
After about ten Minutes, I found the end-
stopping the Tape.
Next, I ran upstairs to get Notebooks,
from my Bedroom.
Replaying the Tape, I got an Idea,
of which Poems might sound nice, as an added Track to the Instrumentation.
With the Headphones on, and the Equipment running, Reciting, for the first time, some recent Poems,
over the Guitar Track- adding some Harmonica fillers, here, and there, as I felt my way through it.
Flipping frantically through the pages,
as can be heard on, the recording,
I would find another one, recite it, and then another-
four or five poems later, it was a finished piece that I called:
“Zacktly ‘sperimental.”
"The Despondent Sea"
That was the day that Danny, and Jimmy, came by with a twelve pack of beer, leaving it with me as a
“Welcome Back” present... after we all had a beer from it.
Danny chuckled, silently, as he explained how
As they stood around me, I turned on my new Recording, thinking Danny would be Proud of my Effort.
It wasn’t very long into the recording... when I realized, Danny wasn’t really listening to it,
only to become disappointed with his reaction.
It really offended me, that he rejected my Solo flight,
in the Studio after his having Expectations of
He over critiqued my Guitar accompaniment, and failed to recognize my Earnestness.
Feeling hurt, I found myself drinking more of the beer they had brought...
“Welcome Back” present... after we all had a beer from it.
Danny chuckled, silently, as he explained how
Jimmy’s puppy died from Parvo,
contracted because of eating Cat poop.
As they stood around me, I turned on my new Recording, thinking Danny would be Proud of my Effort.
It wasn’t very long into the recording... when I realized, Danny wasn’t really listening to it,
only to become disappointed with his reaction.
It really offended me, that he rejected my Solo flight,
in the Studio after his having Expectations of
myself, learning how to use the equipment.
He over critiqued my Guitar accompaniment, and failed to recognize my Earnestness.
Feeling hurt, I found myself drinking more of the beer they had brought...
When they left, I drank some more of the beer,
and returned to my efforts with an added bit of Energy
or Anger. That was when I sat down with the harmonica and the microphone, and belted out, The Valentines Day Song.
Now, regardless of whether or not I had the pans
out of whack... or whether my vocals were too raw,
or the seeming vulgarity within the improvisation
had contaminated it from the alcohol...
it made me Proud, just the same.
You can actually hear the affect, in the recordings,
from one track to the next.
and returned to my efforts with an added bit of Energy
or Anger. That was when I sat down with the harmonica and the microphone, and belted out, The Valentines Day Song.
Now, regardless of whether or not I had the pans
out of whack... or whether my vocals were too raw,
or the seeming vulgarity within the improvisation
had contaminated it from the alcohol...
it made me Proud, just the same.
You can actually hear the affect, in the recordings,
from one track to the next.
It wasn’t Danny and Jimmy’s fault,
that I drank alcohol that day.
What started it was centered on...
the ghost in the house.
Some very strange and unusual things went on,
in this house.
The first thing to happen was, that a stick,
in the shape of the letter “Y”,
showed up in my room, along with a hard cover book,
with a Paper jacket Titled,
“How To Survive The Loss of A Love.”
There was also a letter, from years ago, found,
in the closet of my room. It was addressed to, whomever found it... in the future.
This was eerie because it felt like... a farewell letter,
like an Echo from long ago.
It was, a voice from the past,
It was...
a voice from the dead.
that I drank alcohol that day.
What started it was centered on...
the ghost in the house.
Some very strange and unusual things went on,
in this house.
The first thing to happen was, that a stick,
in the shape of the letter “Y”,
showed up in my room, along with a hard cover book,
with a Paper jacket Titled,
“How To Survive The Loss of A Love.”
There was also a letter, from years ago, found,
in the closet of my room. It was addressed to, whomever found it... in the future.
This was eerie because it felt like... a farewell letter,
like an Echo from long ago.
It was, a voice from the past,
It was...
a voice from the dead.
My Television would turn off or turn on... all by itself.
My sleep was disturbed as well,
waking up at about 2 o'clock in the morning,
unable to move, and unable to breathe...
like I was being restrained or held down
by a very heavy force... while a cloud-like thing
swirled above me.
I think I passed out... because I do not recall recovering from that sensation.
On another occasion, I was on my way home,
having just left the Radio Tavern,
having just played at the Open Mic there
that they held once a week,
In order to make my Portfolio fatter.
My walk home took me across the Grand River, by way of an concrete footbridge that stretched between,
the Amway Grand Plaza, as well as,
I stopped to rest that night while listening to,
the sound of the river....
There was a lone Seagull,
on a large rock, in the water...
After rolling and lighting a cigarette,
I tried to remember... the name of a song,
written by a Great Man, Ben Harper...
it was playing in my head, regarding loneliness...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zr5mCBFejIE
having just left the Radio Tavern,
having just played at the Open Mic there
that they held once a week,
In order to make my Portfolio fatter.
My walk home took me across the Grand River, by way of an concrete footbridge that stretched between,
the Amway Grand Plaza, as well as,
The Gerald R. Ford Museum.
I stopped to rest that night while listening to,
the sound of the river....
There was a lone Seagull,
on a large rock, in the water...
After rolling and lighting a cigarette,
I tried to remember... the name of a song,
written by a Great Man, Ben Harper...
it was playing in my head, regarding loneliness...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zr5mCBFejIE
I could predict how long it would take me to get home.
It did not occur to me... to factor in... a break period.
Resting is something that don't matter, to me...
Just before I got to the yard, I decided to try
talking to the house- the suggestion,
made to me when I had Ryan,
and a female co-worker of his, over one evening,
a few nights before this. It was the night that I had explained...,the ghost story to them while having
a toast with my new set of wine glasses.
It was a holiday gift that I had purchased
for someone- their name doesn't matter.
Memory of whom I had chosen them for is blank...,
but when I served them to my guests,
my not sharing in the Toast,
left one of them out of the act.
This female friend of Ryan's said,
that it was not good and, in fact,
that it was bad luck...
to not break them all in at once.
Peer pressure or the threat of superstition, suggesting an impending doom???
Either way, I caved.
That was the week that I resumed drinking...,
but it was my being forced to tell...,
the story..., of the ghost that seemed to be in the house.
It was my nervousness much more than the threat...,
of bad luck.
Like... maybe it would make them... take me
more seriously, I don’t know.
Either way..., there was pressure.
Her suggestion to me..., was that this Entity,
was sure of my receptiveness..., and that...,
it... wanted.... to Communicate.
So, I was supposed to try talking to it.
And That’s what I did, that night, coming home from,
The Radio Tavern.
As the house came into view, on my right, I swallowed hard, and took a deep breath- hoping that no one was home...,
that would think that I was Crazier..., than they already did.
I was lucky- No One was Home.
As I turned toward the house,
I began to talk to it...,
when my feet hit the property.
I talked about my roommates...,
and their piggishness...,
the condition of the house...,
and my hopes, to care for the property,
the Raccoons in the Attic..., apologizing that the place wasn’t..., in better condition.
When I got to where the front door was at,
the phone began to ring.
My key was for the back door so...,
I went to the rear of the house,
continuing to walk and talk while on,
the phone continued to ring.
It must have rung four or five times...,
before I got in to answer.
In the dark Dining room, I answered the Telephone,
and waited for a reply..., but there was none.
There was a connection..., but no talky-talky..., so, I just decided that someone should talk...,
continuing the chat
that I was having..., before the telephone rang.
After about fifteen minutes,
I told, “it,” that I, REALLY, had to use the bathroom...,
explaining my Evening...,
mentioning the incident...,
from a week prior,
when my steak mysteriously disappeared from the grill,
while I wrote on my computer, in my bedroom,
only to find the steak
in the center of the Staircase...,
halfway up the steps.
WTF??? I thought to myself.
Anyhow, I explained that, I would be happy...,
to talk some more..., and..., for “it,”
to try calling me back later. So, We could continue it.
The phone didn’t ring again.
And I never had another weird episode...,
or smell..., or sensation..., again.
I told, “it,” that I, REALLY, had to use the bathroom...,
explaining my Evening...,
mentioning the incident...,
from a week prior,
when my steak mysteriously disappeared from the grill,
while I wrote on my computer, in my bedroom,
only to find the steak
in the center of the Staircase...,
halfway up the steps.
WTF??? I thought to myself.
Anyhow, I explained that, I would be happy...,
to talk some more..., and..., for “it,”
to try calling me back later. So, We could continue it.
The phone didn’t ring again.
And I never had another weird episode...,
or smell..., or sensation..., again.
Yeah, the night of explaining my ghost situation...,
breaking in the wine glasses...,
kicked it off...,
my drinking..., that is.
<takes a toke and musters a cough>
It was the perfect excuse...., for drinking...,
drinking that slowly progressed..,
due to those persons that made up my environment
that I was in..., coupled by weaknesses.
By, my Birthday..., It was steady again..,. yet, not excessive.
I figured I would just keep it minimal..., I guess
breaking in the wine glasses...,
kicked it off...,
my drinking..., that is.
<takes a toke and musters a cough>
It was the perfect excuse...., for drinking...,
drinking that slowly progressed..,
due to those persons that made up my environment
that I was in..., coupled by weaknesses.
By, my Birthday..., It was steady again..,. yet, not excessive.
I figured I would just keep it minimal..., I guess
The night that I had spoken, to the house...,
was the night that I chanced to make a prediction...,
of how long it would take...,
for me to walk home...,
in the dark, understanding direction.
Had it not been for dawdling...,
listening to the sounds of the river...,
and a song.... the song in my head...,
I would have been exact...
in that prediction... the best of this?...
Not Yet.
That’s proof..., to me..., to never..., Ever
second-guess.., your Instincts.
was the night that I chanced to make a prediction...,
of how long it would take...,
for me to walk home...,
in the dark, understanding direction.
listening to the sounds of the river...,
and a song.... the song in my head...,
I would have been exact...
in that prediction... the best of this?...
Not Yet.
That’s proof..., to me..., to never..., Ever
second-guess.., your Instincts.
Survival... of the fittest... isn’t about who’s the strongest...,
when it comes to Man.
It is about being in Tune...,
with The Earth- with the Planet.
That tuning becomes compromised... when we Pollute Ourselves with Excessive Stimuli...
and Psychological imbalances..., such as... low self-esteem and doubt...,
as well as..., the Ill Mentalities... that make up
Society.
Is that assumption part of my own Conspiratorial reflexes?
ENOUGH.
when it comes to Man.
It is about being in Tune...,
with The Earth- with the Planet.
That tuning becomes compromised... when we Pollute Ourselves with Excessive Stimuli...
and Psychological imbalances..., such as... low self-esteem and doubt...,
as well as..., the Ill Mentalities... that make up
Society.
Is that assumption part of my own Conspiratorial reflexes?
ENOUGH.
So, when the Dusendang projects turned sour,
I began doing work for the Kettlewells.
Speaking of sour, I’ll never forget the time
the guy on Shawn’s crew took me to the strip joint-
The Parkway Tropics.
They were talking about it, when I mentioned that,
I had never been to a strip joint.
It was their cue, of course, to drag me there that evening. What a filthy hole that place is.
The beers were four-fifty each, and the patrons had a real a creepy vibe perfuming in the air.
There was a weird energy, in that establishment...,
that let me know I may be in the wrong place.
"DISPOSABLE"
Failing to put the change in my pocket,
must have been an invitation for an encounter because after a few minutes,
a brush cut, bleach blonde, with a mono-fox
tramp stamp, came over, made some kind of
seductive move, that felt more like,
“Oh, if I have to”, while sticking her boobs in my face
as she scooped the money up off of the table.
My feeling was, that she didn’t like Men,
Going to another, so-called, “Gentlemen’s Club”, never crossed my mind again.
The smell of a sour towel triggers that recollection...
every time.
It’s imprinted in my mind forever,
along with burning chicken feathers and cat-piss, stewing on a hot woodstove.
{shudder}
I began doing work for the Kettlewells.
Speaking of sour, I’ll never forget the time
the guy on Shawn’s crew took me to the strip joint-
The Parkway Tropics.
They were talking about it, when I mentioned that,
I had never been to a strip joint.
It was their cue, of course, to drag me there that evening. What a filthy hole that place is.
The beers were four-fifty each, and the patrons had a real a creepy vibe perfuming in the air.
There was a weird energy, in that establishment...,
that let me know I may be in the wrong place.
"DISPOSABLE"
Failing to put the change in my pocket,
must have been an invitation for an encounter because after a few minutes,
a brush cut, bleach blonde, with a mono-fox
tramp stamp, came over, made some kind of
seductive move, that felt more like,
“Oh, if I have to”, while sticking her boobs in my face
as she scooped the money up off of the table.
(My voice, and way of constructing the sentence has been criticized since the fifth grade- "Run-On Sentences," the teacher always said to me. She had no idea that I was actually going to develop myself to actually write something someday.)
My feeling was, that she didn’t like Men,
and I was left, not only penniless but with the rotting smell of, a dirty towel, that she must save special for wiping off with when she comes to “work.”
Going to another, so-called, “Gentlemen’s Club”, never crossed my mind again.
The smell of a sour towel triggers that recollection...
every time.
It’s imprinted in my mind forever,
along with burning chicken feathers and cat-piss, stewing on a hot woodstove.
{shudder}
Yeah, speaking of tramps,
back to the Kettlewell’s.
A lot went on while working for, Michelle, and, Jim.
Jimmy Huckleberry, was living in one of their dumps,
working off the rent, while stretching out his budget...,
for cheap booze and Crack Cocaine.
The way that I happened to become involved,
was that the girl he lived with had gotten aggressive,
and decided to fend off his abuse one night, resulting in a bunch of broken windows,
and the neighbors... calling the cops.
Being delinquent in child support, and a town nuisance,
they were more than happy to book him,
for Domestic Assault, and, creating a disturbance,
on top of the FOC warrant.
Danny had gotten word because, Michelle, had informed him
that the place got busted up and needed to be dealt with,
so, he recruited me… to stay there and take over
until Jimmy got out and came back-
and that I needn't pay any Rent.
back to the Kettlewell’s.
A lot went on while working for, Michelle, and, Jim.
Jimmy Huckleberry, was living in one of their dumps,
working off the rent, while stretching out his budget...,
for cheap booze and Crack Cocaine.
The way that I happened to become involved,
was that the girl he lived with had gotten aggressive,
and decided to fend off his abuse one night, resulting in a bunch of broken windows,
and the neighbors... calling the cops.
Being delinquent in child support, and a town nuisance,
they were more than happy to book him,
for Domestic Assault, and, creating a disturbance,
on top of the FOC warrant.
Danny had gotten word because, Michelle, had informed him
that the place got busted up and needed to be dealt with,
so, he recruited me… to stay there and take over
until Jimmy got out and came back-
and that I needn't pay any Rent.
This building was in an alley, right behind,
The Devos Children’s Hospital,
on the east side of it, facing west.
There were three apartments in the building.
One of the tenants was a young mother of a
four-year-old little girl, and was a darling child.
She used to walk the grassy areas with me to look for snakes, in the Sun, just passing Time by.
I fantasized about being the much-needed father,
and tried to get to know the mother.
While at a home remodel on, Coit Avenue, I made a Cedar flower box for them, in hopes to win a foothold in their lives but that... quickly eroded with my drinking.
The other tenant was also a single mother
but no matter how hard she worked,
I shoved her away by becoming obnoxious
displaying typical drunkenness, with purpose.
In all of my... Perfection... she was No Gift to Me.
Strangely enough,
her mailbox displayed a card that read:
“The Goode Family.”
She would later get even with me for being so rude.
People ruin many opportunities based on appearance.
Had I been so shallow still, in 2008,
I would have overlooked
The Most Wonderful Friend that I Ever had in my Life-
missing out on the one thing
that I had been so desperately trying to find-
LOVE.
Had I been so shallow still, in 2008,
I would have overlooked
The Most Wonderful Friend that I Ever had in my Life-
missing out on the one thing
that I had been so desperately trying to find-
LOVE.
People today have grown fickle,
and should be ashamed,
especially men.
Before Life is all over,
We Will All know Certain Truths-
Making for The Greatest Sadness
that We will Ever feel,
the Sadness to Know
that it is, now, too late,
to make... even... the slightest.... correction,
or even have our apologies heard...,
as we slip... into...
our Deaths.
(what? wrong comma usage? Probably.
I use them like Musical symbols
to communicate pause.)
"Paws" to Remember "Cherokee"
She was Killed by the neighbor- shot.
That is why they say:
“Ignorance is Bliss.”
And Not One of us, who has a Functioning Mind,
will be Awarded,
that Gift.
I am So Grateful,
to have these Revelations at the age of,
42...., while I still have a chance
to make a difference...., to be a role model,
a father to a child...,
and to share love with someone special.
THAT... is why I Write- to Heal myself, to Forgive,
to Grow in All the ways that I Can,
AND to share that journey with others
With Hope the Others will Join in
on this Very Special Revolution-
The Individual Revolution-
The Pursuit of Truth and Wholeness, and to Break Free from the Illnesses of Society
And the Slavery of Economics.
Money is not what’s important.
and should be ashamed,
especially men.
Before Life is all over,
We Will All know Certain Truths-
Making for The Greatest Sadness
that We will Ever feel,
the Sadness to Know
that it is, now, too late,
to make... even... the slightest.... correction,
or even have our apologies heard...,
as we slip... into...
our Deaths.
(what? wrong comma usage? Probably.
I use them like Musical symbols
to communicate pause.)
She was Killed by the neighbor- shot.
That is why they say:
“Ignorance is Bliss.”
And Not One of us, who has a Functioning Mind,
will be Awarded,
that Gift.
I am So Grateful,
to have these Revelations at the age of,
42...., while I still have a chance
to make a difference...., to be a role model,
a father to a child...,
and to share love with someone special.
THAT... is why I Write- to Heal myself, to Forgive,
to Grow in All the ways that I Can,
AND to share that journey with others
With Hope the Others will Join in
on this Very Special Revolution-
The Individual Revolution-
The Pursuit of Truth and Wholeness, and to Break Free from the Illnesses of Society
And the Slavery of Economics.
Money is not what’s important.
So, Michelle tweaked by one day,
mentioning that they would, “Keep me alive.”
I wasn’t really in a position to decline
what little that I was going to get,
so I just, once again, let the bet ride
….without much of an argument.
"Michigan, The Great Lakes Steak"
mentioning that they would, “Keep me alive.”
I wasn’t really in a position to decline
what little that I was going to get,
so I just, once again, let the bet ride
….without much of an argument.
"Michigan, The Great Lakes Steak"
Danny had left town, for a while, returning to, Chicago.
He was certain to regain his employment there.
When he came back, we made it a point to play,
at Stooges, on South Division,
at the open mike that they hosted there.
We talked about going back, to his place in,
Buck-Town
but I only had a small amount of cash.
Having come to, Grand Rapids,
with very nothing left to get home with.
Instead of telling me that,
and coming up with a plan.
Once again, steered off of my Path.
It was simple-
I felt a scheme where I’d be stuck in Chicago!
Again, my conspiratorial reflexes were in affect. That was one of Danny’s hang-ups- he’d always put himself in the way of my plans or somehow talk me out of doing what I had to do, to put it off until later.
In the back of my mind, I would justify it with Danny’s illness and that he was dying but no matter what it was, I always regretted deviating from my agenda.
He was certain to regain his employment there.
When he came back, we made it a point to play,
at Stooges, on South Division,
at the open mike that they hosted there.
We talked about going back, to his place in,
Buck-Town
but I only had a small amount of cash.
Having come to, Grand Rapids,
with very nothing left to get home with.
Instead of telling me that,
and coming up with a plan.
Once again, steered off of my Path.
It was simple-
I felt a scheme where I’d be stuck in Chicago!
Again, my conspiratorial reflexes were in affect. That was one of Danny’s hang-ups- he’d always put himself in the way of my plans or somehow talk me out of doing what I had to do, to put it off until later.
In the back of my mind, I would justify it with Danny’s illness and that he was dying but no matter what it was, I always regretted deviating from my agenda.
Well, after performing,
we were in converse reciprocation
with a young, and pretty thick, black woman....,
she was giving me a lot of...,
Attention.
Feeling sorry for her loneliness,
(and probably making up for mistreating
my very, very thick neighbor),
I brought her back to my place to hang out,
and you know the rest.
(Almost- …. I shouldn't have to say that.
The symbolism of this image should say it for me-
I am a Painter).
When we got back to my place,
I hid my money
underneath a large container of...
laundry detergent.
Between my concerns with getting suckered into going to Chicago, and my experience with women, I was sure the money would end up gone, especially after finding my keys in the van, that I am pretty sure were in the pocket of the pants, that had mysteriously disappeared on, Prospect street, with almost three hundred dollars in my chained leather wallet.
But that’s how bad addiction is,
and how bad the drinking had become to be.
That was when I said I was going to get sober.
Oh well. It was a pretty good hiding spot this time.
I mean, who’d find the money underneath a big box of Tide?
Someone would have to do the laundry in order to find it or, be stealing the detergent, which I didn't consider to be a probable item to take if someone was,
"passing through". I know something else that,
"passes through" (Oh, Zach... that's funny!)
we were in converse reciprocation
with a young, and pretty thick, black woman....,
she was giving me a lot of...,
Attention.
Feeling sorry for her loneliness,
(and probably making up for mistreating
my very, very thick neighbor),
I brought her back to my place to hang out,
and you know the rest.
(Almost- …. I shouldn't have to say that.
The symbolism of this image should say it for me-
I am a Painter).
When we got back to my place,
I hid my money
underneath a large container of...
laundry detergent.
Between my concerns with getting suckered into going to Chicago, and my experience with women, I was sure the money would end up gone, especially after finding my keys in the van, that I am pretty sure were in the pocket of the pants, that had mysteriously disappeared on, Prospect street, with almost three hundred dollars in my chained leather wallet.
But that’s how bad addiction is,
and how bad the drinking had become to be.
That was when I said I was going to get sober.
Oh well. It was a pretty good hiding spot this time.
I mean, who’d find the money underneath a big box of Tide?
Someone would have to do the laundry in order to find it or, be stealing the detergent, which I didn't consider to be a probable item to take if someone was,
"passing through". I know something else that,
"passes through" (Oh, Zach... that's funny!)
Anyway,
the next morning he wanted to go,
but I couldn’t remember hiding the money. So,
he took the girl home...
and that’s when I found it.
Now I was afraid... to get stuck in "Chy-Town".
When Danny got back,
I denied finding it.
Danny left, disappointed
but returned...
an hour later.
It was when he returned...
that I decided to go to Chicago with him.
the next morning he wanted to go,
but I couldn’t remember hiding the money. So,
he took the girl home...
and that’s when I found it.
Now I was afraid... to get stuck in "Chy-Town".
When Danny got back,
I denied finding it.
Danny left, disappointed
but returned...
an hour later.
It was when he returned...
that I decided to go to Chicago with him.
Danny, had a storefront,
in a building that was cut up into several apartments.
The large apartment, in the rear of the first floor,
was a recent eviction that had not been tended to.
Agreeing to help him by doing the labor,
of cleaning, while he was at work in the city,
with his job of performing Management of Construction.
His mom had given him her car to use
because the Van he had took its last breath.
We cruised around town,
where I got the opportunity
to see the various projects that he was tending to...
He was proud, mostly because
this job had all of the ear markings...
of a real job,
and I was happy for him.
Dan was especially proud of his “system,” using multiple ink colors to indicate the status of the project, and the level of importance: Red ink was for immediate attention and need. Blue might have been an indication of scheduling- I don’t remember exactly- or Black.
I could see where the ink colors would work, and I’d figure out how to utilize it if I were managing a project.
But then again, it sounds like a lot of extra work... maybe it's just me...
Regardless, it was nice to see the work thing pan out
for him.
Eventually, we made it back to Dan’s apartment, where he instructed me to clean out
the rear apartment.
I could see where the ink colors would work, and I’d figure out how to utilize it if I were managing a project.
But then again, it sounds like a lot of extra work... maybe it's just me...
Regardless, it was nice to see the work thing pan out
for him.
Eventually, we made it back to Dan’s apartment, where he instructed me to clean out
the rear apartment.
This rear apartment was the residence of-
two men,
whom I was informed were, both gay and smoked crack.
At least one of them was smoking crack.
My eyes were wide with my astonishment of the condition of the place. There was oil everywhere. There was grease infused lint, and saturated dust, weighing on the blades of the ceiling fan.
They appeared more concerned with their own obsessions and instant gratifications. That is, if you call that gratifying.
I’m not saying there is no such thing as a genuine homosexual person; it’s just that too many people use it as a convenience- using people to enable their addictions,
and further enabling their own Psychological illnesses.
two men,
whom I was informed were, both gay and smoked crack.
At least one of them was smoking crack.
My eyes were wide with my astonishment of the condition of the place. There was oil everywhere. There was grease infused lint, and saturated dust, weighing on the blades of the ceiling fan.
It has always been an impression of mine,
that Gay men were clean and fussy.
This must have been a Pseudo-Gay species-
only using Homosexuality as a tool for manipulation,
and as a cop-out
for not having
the ability
to give anything of them selves,
like commitment...,
responsibility etc…
They appeared more concerned with their own obsessions and instant gratifications. That is, if you call that gratifying.
I’m not saying there is no such thing as a genuine homosexual person; it’s just that too many people use it as a convenience- using people to enable their addictions,
and further enabling their own Psychological illnesses.
At any rate, it was a filthy trash pit.
It wasn’t long before I found a room that was an office of sorts- complete with a computer and an Internet connection.
My first thought was, “Hey! I can email my kids,” but after clicking the mouse button I became shocked to find the monitor filled with very graphic images of him and his lover or, at least, parts of them. There was a big old Bung Holio and a Sagging Scrotum looking Right At me.
Now, I can’t even see that being interesting to a Surgeon who specializes in
Anal Reconstruction.
It wasn’t long before I found a room that was an office of sorts- complete with a computer and an Internet connection.
My first thought was, “Hey! I can email my kids,” but after clicking the mouse button I became shocked to find the monitor filled with very graphic images of him and his lover or, at least, parts of them. There was a big old Bung Holio and a Sagging Scrotum looking Right At me.
Now, I can’t even see that being interesting to a Surgeon who specializes in
Anal Reconstruction.
Suddenly I became very fearful of sending an email
or even touching the computer… or the chair… or the…
My efforts at cleaning yielded some immediate rewards
that were very useful
for
pulling myself
out of the panic and anxiety
that had all but incapacitated me.
The first item was a super score- Bob Dylan Bootleg Series CD Collection: Rare and Unreleased Recordings
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bootleg_Series_Volumes_1–3_(Rare_%26_Unreleased)_1961–1991
This was a three CD set with a book of photographs and some answers to where the songs originated from, and what they meant.
It is an expensive set, maybe over one hundred dollars.
The CD’s have become casualties
of a hard life in the valley of death
but the book remains to be
an article... in my personal property.
that were very useful
for
pulling myself
out of the panic and anxiety
that had all but incapacitated me.
The first item was a super score- Bob Dylan Bootleg Series CD Collection: Rare and Unreleased Recordings
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bootleg_Series_Volumes_1–3_(Rare_%26_Unreleased)_1961–1991
This was a three CD set with a book of photographs and some answers to where the songs originated from, and what they meant.
It is an expensive set, maybe over one hundred dollars.
The CD’s have become casualties
of a hard life in the valley of death
but the book remains to be
an article... in my personal property.
The other reward was also recordings,
in the form of actual cassette tapes.
These were all Grateful Dead shows.
The Dead were the only band, to allow people permission,
to record their shows,
which made a huge impact and contributed to
their having becoming a very, very big success.
Hence my "giving away" my writing...
I went to school for this stuff.
This set of cassette recordings was individually labeled,
all in cases, and all kept together in a cassette storage case
-that held about a one hundred cassette tapes. It was about full.
So, with these items, how could I stay depressed?
It’s not really possible to stay distraught
while...
listening to The Dead.
"China Cat Sunflower"
Artist: Steve Weber
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWgjKDlvjDM
in the form of actual cassette tapes.
These were all Grateful Dead shows.
The Dead were the only band, to allow people permission,
to record their shows,
which made a huge impact and contributed to
their having becoming a very, very big success.
Hence my "giving away" my writing...
I went to school for this stuff.
This set of cassette recordings was individually labeled,
all in cases, and all kept together in a cassette storage case
-that held about a one hundred cassette tapes. It was about full.
So, with these items, how could I stay depressed?
It’s not really possible to stay distraught
while...
listening to The Dead.
"China Cat Sunflower"
Artist: Steve Weber
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWgjKDlvjDM
Danny would end up finishing the clean up, after bringing me back to, Grand Rapids, where I returned to,
Jimmy’s apartment, and...
The Kettlewell nightmare.
A few days would go by
before I came across the digital camera
that Dan had bought.
This item was actually part of a cache of items that were
stolen from a warehouse location,
Someone, attempting to set it up
in hopes of recruiting me to help him...
having had a big stack of pallets
blocking the rear door, which he had left unlocked
earlier that day.
After getting in, they opened a door for him to get in being that he was much thinner and able to squeeze into tight places, after dieting for several months beforehand.
(insert story about the guy hiring people to reroof his house- preying on crack addicts, paying them in crack cocaine)
He gathered up the loot, staging a break-in point-
making it appear as though
someone didn’t have prior access,
taking the suspicion off of the employees
who worked in the warehouse.
A brilliant idea, and it made a difference. Had he not taken that step the investigation would have turned inward, on the employee’s.
This wasn’t a great moment for me to be associated with but it is what it is.
Had I not been using Crack, at that point in my, so-called, life- I would have never, ever,
been even remotely involved enough to know anything about it.
I never said a word about it,
and we bought the camera out of pure desperation to capture everything we could of Danny's compositions,
in preparation of publishing his works.
Jimmy’s apartment, and...
The Kettlewell nightmare.
A few days would go by
before I came across the digital camera
that Dan had bought.
This item was actually part of a cache of items that were
stolen from a warehouse location,
Someone, attempting to set it up
in hopes of recruiting me to help him...
having had a big stack of pallets
blocking the rear door, which he had left unlocked
earlier that day.
After getting in, they opened a door for him to get in being that he was much thinner and able to squeeze into tight places, after dieting for several months beforehand.
(insert story about the guy hiring people to reroof his house- preying on crack addicts, paying them in crack cocaine)
He gathered up the loot, staging a break-in point-
making it appear as though
someone didn’t have prior access,
taking the suspicion off of the employees
who worked in the warehouse.
A brilliant idea, and it made a difference. Had he not taken that step the investigation would have turned inward, on the employee’s.
This wasn’t a great moment for me to be associated with but it is what it is.
Had I not been using Crack, at that point in my, so-called, life- I would have never, ever,
been even remotely involved enough to know anything about it.
I never said a word about it,
and we bought the camera out of pure desperation to capture everything we could of Danny's compositions,
in preparation of publishing his works.
There is little to nothing a person won’t do that’s on that garbage. Mess with a prostitute these days and you will become acquainted with it, and most likely, become a user.
The Crack is to shackle
Citizens should be allowed
Open season is what I say.
Enough!
Where are the real men at these days?
Gran Torino?
(get permission to place image of clint eastwood)
We would be better off if these criminals, that target us for our money, would just rob us, at gunpoint, but the truth is, today’s big, tough, manly, “gangsters,” are cowards- sending women, and children, out to destroy the communities that they are too lazy to earn their own rewards,
in the work force of.
They fear the prison sentences associated with a gun charge, so they use the guns to beat women, and children with, instead- boosting their Ego, which is really the only thing you have when you don’t have any Integrity.
The Crack is to shackle
your paycheck to their pocket,
and you would become coaxed
into a murderous rage
if I told you more about it.
Citizens should be allowed
to "bag" drug dealers-
Terrorists,
right outside our doors.
Open season is what I say.
Enough!
Where are the real men at these days?
Gran Torino?
(get permission to place image of clint eastwood)
Danny shot a lot of great footage of friends on that camera- footage of all of us doing what we did together.
One of those friends was Ryan.
Ryan had a father who was exposed to, Agent Orange,
while serving in one of our branches of the military-
Army maybe, not the Navy.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agent_Orange
Ryan’s sister was terminal,
with some kind of cancer,
in and out of the hospital quite a bit-
liver cancer of some kind,
I think it was.
At one point the nurses were caring for her,
providing her things...
that being confined to a bed
would entail,
like food,
and drink,
for example.
The Doctor...
had some specific orders
that were Misinterpreted,
One Way or Another.
"One Way or Another" by, The Grateful Dead
https://youtu.be/fm_YX6LKf0g
One of those orders was to take in plenty of fluids.
When the nurse’s aid served her,
she reiterated the instructions to the patient.
Ryan’s sister asked for a Sprite refill,
and if that was okay.
The smiling face assured her that
she could drink as much Sprite
as she wanted.
Eventually,
the already tired Liver gave out
from the dehydrating effect of
the Carbonation in the beverage,
leaving her to go into a coma,
and at some point
she actually died.
The emergency response team
managed to revive her,
saving her life,
and she did finally receive
a new Liver
but the cancer... wasn’t...
entirely... gone.... from... her body.
The medical staff had determined
that her cancer was in remission- gone
but all that meant was that the tape was rewinding.
It will start playing again when
it gets back to the
other end.
I wonder if she is still house ridden
or if she has lost the fight,
and how her husband, her children,
and the rest of their family are doing
in life today?
Come to find out, Ryan had cancer too- in his chest.
He told me about the pain
that he was experiencing in his rib cage,
saying that he could feel the lump in his Breath.
He also told me about a pretty serious car accident
His friend was driving, and they were drunk.
Ryan’s face hit the dash,
The Surgeons managed to pack back his brain in
His best friend, whom was driving,
Ryan told me about his life expectancy,
His main reason for stopping by that night
He asked me if he could have a copy of the video footage of our party, where we did, "The Blind Poem," that he was on so that he could show it to his Mom. https://www.soundclick.com/html5/v4/player.cfm?songID=7626771
There was a very slim chance that she would be able to view the diskette so, I gave him the camera to be able to play it, along with a bag of weed instead of a joint.
Getting more for myself was no big deal,
He told me about the pain
that he was experiencing in his rib cage,
saying that he could feel the lump in his Breath.
He also told me about a pretty serious car accident
that he was in, and how he would never have known about the tumors... that were growing inside him
if it had not occurred.
His friend was driving, and they were drunk.
The car went off of the road and into a ravine,
rolling over multiple times.
Ryan’s face hit the dash,
and his head went through the windshield,
knocking out teeth,
and crushing part of his skull.
The Surgeons managed to pack back his brain in
after picking out the fragments of bone,
and, somewhere
along the path of recovery,
they fixed his palette,
and sent him back home.
His best friend, whom was driving,
had fared none.
He was killed in the tumultuous roll.
The car, a total loss- it was gone,
completely unsalvageable.
Ryan told me about his life expectancy,
after telling me of the accident,
the night that, Danny, had brought me
back to... Grand Rapids
His main reason for stopping by that night
was because he was going to see his mother,
and needed some things for the trip-
one of those things,
One of those things was...
a joint or two for the drive.
<Intermission>
This is the point in the Program,
where we will allow the Authors Return.
Firstly, The Horses need Affection,
and reassurance
to continue the bonding
that they need and deserve.
Having been long since they've been cared for,
it isn't too hard to clearly see,
that these things take some time to undo,
the mess from Negligence... They have been casualties...
Act 2
It wouldn’t be very many more days until he would be gone from this world, and he wanted to have time with his family in preparation.
He asked me if he could have a copy of the video footage of our party, where we did, "The Blind Poem," that he was on so that he could show it to his Mom. https://www.soundclick.com/html5/v4/player.cfm?songID=7626771
There was a very slim chance that she would be able to view the diskette so, I gave him the camera to be able to play it, along with a bag of weed instead of a joint.
Getting more for myself was no big deal,
and I knew a joint wouldn’t be enough.
The footage was a great thing to share with his mom.
That would help comfort her.
She could have a little Pride to know that her son
was in good company, having clean fun,
playing music, writing Poetry,
and being happy-
if only for those few moments.
We sat and drank a couple beers together
but I ended up drinking the one that he opened
because his trip to his mom’s was more urgent
than I understood-
he was going NOW.
He might have told me about how long he had
but I don’t remember.
I remember we shed a tear together,
and I remember he told me that he did,
at least, have a son.
The whereabouts of the camera isn’t known,
and I never saw Ryan again
but I know his mom was living in,
Tennessee.
And I know is, that the mother of the child worked at a bar,
that was right by the railroad tracks, on,
Lake Michigan Drive,
where the local police were known to frequent.
Ryan had told me that this woman was heavy set-
a beautiful woman, who only wanted to have a child.
He knew that he would never be around
long enough to marry and have his own family so,
she, and he, got together
and both got a compromise.
It’s possible, though unlikely, that I may find her someday. Hopefully, I can get the camera back.
Not for the camera itself but for the video footage on it.
It was footage from Joe’s birthday party.
We were singing a song and playing guitars.
Ryan got a few lines in on the song,
and we all had a grand ol’ time.
It was a Bob Dylan song
but ours was “I got my Ass in Trouble”,
a spin off of our own.
(find song)
Somewhere, I have the Audio recordings of that evening-
a four-track cassette tape that we mixed down
to distribute to friends.
The video would be a fantastic supplement.
Life goes on, I guess. Yet, I still wonder
if Ryan wasn’t confiding in me
for another reason- maybe...
trying to ask me to look in on his child
in the future, to tell him a bit about his dad.
Hopefully, I will find him someday.
There was a house to the South of my building,
facing to same westward way,
in the evening shadow of...,
The Devos Children’s Hospital.
A Mexican family occupied this house.
They had two little girls,
approximately five years old.
They were twins, and were absolute darlings.
They would come up
to where I had the puppy tied up
to the porch, to play with him. His name was Brandy II,
a caramel colored Boxer with short hair.
Brandy II was a replacement pup
to Brandy that died of Parvo
a few months earlier.
My job was to care for the dog
and keep the apartment
until Jimmy came back home, from jail.
The children would get comfortable with me quickly
and began to actually go right into my, "home".
Having the Children’s hospital looking down on my apartment made me a bit nervous with this scene in whole,
though I could not put my finger on, exactly, why.
Sitting frozen in place, on my porch,
until they came out- either instinct or
maybe a supernatural awareness,
I don’t know but something
felt terribly wrong.
The twins were always, “helping,”
by straightening up the coffee table clutter,
and sweeping, putting food in the dogs bowl-
even trying to wash the dishes once or twice but,
hearing the water running and the clatter,
I’d dash in and stop them- shooing them out,
and returning to my chair,
as quickly as I possibly could.
My senses were piqued, and I was fearful
but my self was distracted with alcohol
and substance that blocked my sub-conscience
from myself receiving the messages
that I was being given.
All I knew was
that there was something
that was trying to be communicated to me-
something that I needed to worry about… what was it?
What was it? I just couldn't see.
Their company was more than pleasant,
even though we didn’t have a very
comprehensive means of communicating.
Part of the blame was with me
and the importance of education
I knew plenty of Spanish speaking Families.
They didn’t know any English,
and I knew little Spanish
but they would try to teach me, daily,
pointing to items and giving me the words for them.
Having them around was uplifting,
just like the girl on the other side of me,
only double-
"Double Trouble"
in one more moment, you will see...
But for the duration, they were my temporary,
"Pride and Joy"
and re-opened the wounds,
once again exposing the grief over the loss...,
the loss of my own children-
It was like a bellows that was working
at stoking my simmering anger and, hurt
into a blazing fury, and a quenchless thirst.
It was bittersweet, as they say but that all came crashing
to an abrupt end one day-
the dog..., the kids in my life....,
my renewed hopes-
everything.
While sitting on my porch, I was drinking.
I was sipping a double-deuce beer,
and smoking on a Camel light cigarette,
I noticed movement out of the upper left corner of my eye.
It was the little girls...
in the upstairs window.
At first, it was nice.
They were vying for my attention,
but I think they were suppose to be taking a nap,
or, at least, out of the way for something, or another,
that the adults that were, in the home, were doing-
who knows what that may have been...
It went from their smiles and waves,
to them lifting their shirts up to bare their chests.
Yeah...,
that’s right...
they were both flashing me.
My first thought was that they had been exposed
to a lot of things that they shouldn’t be exposed to
but my second thought was,
that they had been Molested.
My world went Black, and I just could not
see how anyone could do that to a child.
Suddenly, I became mortified
that I would be accused of something
that scared me to death.
Today it does not matter.
An accusation, alone, will destroy you.
That is something far more worse than Death.
Jumping up from the porch,
I went inside, shut the house up,
and retreated from all view.
Now that I think about it,
I wonder if I should have called
the Child Protective Authorities
but then again, there’s the accusation effect.
There is no telling what the right thing to do is...,
sometimes.
Soon after, I left the house,
going to the Singh family’s home,
on, College Street,
to get away for a while.
My goal was to put my mind at ease
and smoke a bit of their grass,
while hearing what they had to say
about it.
And get some Much needed stress relief fast.
Robert McVoy, introduced us recently-
Dave, his wife, and two little girls, and two dogs.
One of those dogs was named Brown Dog,
which fell in love with me.
It would come out that, Dave, was much older than his wife, and that they had become acquainted when she was
very young- 14 or 15 maybe.
Now that I look back on it, my inquiries
about what to do about the situation were not
received as well as I would have liked but,
then again, that could be
my own missperception-
I doubt it.
The next problem I had was,
when I got back home…
Brandy 2..., was gone.
After asking the people in my building,
all of them claiming not to know-
one single thing about it,
I went to ask the Mexican family next door.
The woman of the house reiterated,
that she saw the dog being put
into the van belonging to Mrs. Goode
who then drove away with him,
only to return without the dog.
This was certainly dumbfounding.
There were a whole lot of questions coming out,
but the only answers I got....,
were my own.
All of these people in my building, these women,
were obviously not my friends.
This reality was more reinforcement
to my own resentment
brought on by a life of continuous
mistreatment from women.
Beginning with my own mother.
The Singh family became a regular spot for me-
clinging to everything about them
that resembled normalcy,
in order to discuss life and my developments.
During the next few days they would find a home for
Brown Dog, in me, mostly
because it was too much for them to feed two dogs
and a family of four on their income.
Originally,
they had rescued Brown Dog from the street.
Without a second thought,
I gladly took Brown Dog,
and he gladly had taken me.
We were inseparable, yet,
I could only think of Dusty,
and that thought couldn’t go
through my head without thinking of my kids,
which only kept adding fuel to my thirst.
Brown Dog was one great companion.
For the next several weeks
we would do everything together-
go to work, walkabouts, and fishing,
playing music, even going to the bar.
The people at, Mulligan’s Pub, let me bring him inside.
Consciously,
It was not aware.... to me...
that he was....a temporary
replacement for my losses.
That, had remained... to be seen...
At night I’d put him in the backyard,
but he would get out, and roam the town-
"On The Hunt"
Prospect Studio presents: "On The Hunt"
As the days would pass, I learned of his romps-
clear up to, so and so's, home,
and all the way over to, what’s his name’s-
everywhere that I had taken him to, on our jaunts.
clear up to, so and so's, home,
and all the way over to, what’s his name’s-
everywhere that I had taken him to, on our jaunts.
It isn’t hard to admit that I was pretty frightened
over that confrontation, especially
since I don’t like being on
the defensive end of things,
and I hate to see people get hurt.
Never having gotten into it
with, Jimmy, before, I was worried
how it would turn out,
particularly since he had
just gotten out of jail.
And here’s the girl, in the end apartment,
with her hand on the phone,
who.... more than likely
called the police before.
With my having been,
on the defensive end, all of my life,
it would seem, that I would be accustomed to it,
but maybe being frightened is being accustomed to it.
However, it didn’t come to blows that day.
Even after I explained about the neighbors,
and how they did it-
to take the dog away from the bad home
they felt the dog had.
Still, he wouldn’t accept Brown Dog,
saying that he couldn’t take “my” dog from me.
Brown Dog would not have liked that anyway but,
then again, he wouldn’t be given any choices...
in a moment- either one of them.
Brown Dog, and I, had grown
accustomed, to going to Eastown,
going to the bars there,
where he was allowed inside.
It never mattered how drunk I got,
Brown Dog had always gotten me back home.
The cops came,
After spending some time in holding,
I decided to eat it before I got caught with it,
which was a good idea because,
little did I know,
I was going to be taken to another county...,
on another charge.
accustomed, to going to Eastown,
going to the bars there,
where he was allowed inside.
One particular night, I had gotten a
half of an ounce of, compressed weed,
and went out drinking with, Brown Dog.
It never mattered how drunk I got,
Brown Dog had always gotten me back home.
Well, on this night,
our trip homeward was interrupted.
Some guys, who had been drinking,
on their porch,
for some reason,
called the cops.
The cops came,
and arrested me for trespassing,
taking me to the Kent County Jail.
Shortly after waking up in the drunk tank,
I would scratch, at an area of..
discomfort on my calf,
to find a one half ounce piece of marijuana,
that looked like a buffalo chip,
tucked inside my sock.
After spending some time in holding,
I decided to eat it before I got caught with it,
which was a good idea because,
little did I know,
I was going to be taken to another county...,
on another charge.
One day they said,
“Polk, pack your stuff.”
I gave away my useful stuff to people in need,
expecting to be released but when
I got up to the bubble to get my
discharge papers, I was told
that I would be going to,
Gladwin County, for a warrant!
ARRRRGH!! Now,
I would be going to jail for another three months.
It would seem, that had I paid the fines,
this would not have happened.
Although, since the name was fictitious, I filed it.
Well, three months quickly shaped into, half of that
because of the day for day good time credit,
which I think is just another scam on the taxpayers
but honestly, nobody cares enough
to give two minutes, of themselves,
to see... or respond to it.
"Poppy Cock"
If you pull the plug on one scam,
you might disturb your own.
So, Everyone pretends Everything is all right.
"Just dozen miss Church, on Sunday!"
One day, while sitting in the ten-man Cell-block,
a chubby female guard, came to the window, with a newspaper- pressing it, against the glass.
It was the, Bay City Times,
and the article read:
“Polk the Impersonator, Back in Gladwin Jail-
This time as Polk”
(find article to post here)
Oh, it was a hilarious article- all lies, of course.
It remains on my list of things to tend to,
and I always swore, that I would get the real story to them, someday, but I have not been able to do so.
That has not happened yet, mostly, because,
the Editor, will not get back to me. Might he. Now? I hope You are Reading.
Here is where I take, THE OPPORTUNITY,
to Elaborate..., which I Will,
...Indeed.
After being arrested for, "Public Endangerment"-
walking down, an old highway that runs East and West,
I was taken to the Sheriffs Dept. for processing.
They asked me for all of my information,
which I could not provide since I had made the name up- beginning to tell them I was,
Thomas Kloosterhouse, in an attempt to...
continue on with my suicide run.
Quickly thinking... that this was... a bad thing
to do to my friend, I stated that my name was,
Thomas Kloosterman- a combination of,
Kloosterhouse, and, Musselman-
the name I had thought was my own
while being "raised" as a child-
The deputy asked me if I had $750.00,
and that if I did..., I could in fact,
make it allll go away.
Well, after calling the woman, who had been
providing me with the alcohol,
or majority of it, since many women
were buying me, Budweiser's,
the answer was, "No".
If I had any brains in use,
I would have understood that
it was her intention that I was to...
return to her home...for a sleep-over.
Stupid me....
Anyway, after the call, and not having any luck,
the, "officer," then provided me with a piece of paper
with allll of the nomenclature...
corresponding with the name-
the name that I had provided.
In short, I was appointed an "Attorney," whom I informed, in the court room...,
during the hearing,
that I was not..
this person,
supplying him with my real name and age.
He did nothing for me in this regard,
simply shuffling me through the system as is.
The Judge handed me down, a 6 month jail sentence,
of which, I served 3 months- day for day credit, good time.
It didn't matter much to me, at the time,
I need the rest and nourishment..
I just let the bet ride- upping the future ante...
by not saying anything to try correcting things...
which, I think was very smart.
When I was released, I didn’t try hiking home again-
not right away.
I figured I’d visit but other than finding
a way to drink,
I’m not sure what I was thinking.
I ran into a guy with a bum arm whom claimed to be
a small engine mechanic.
He asked me if I’d be interested in, working for him, or helping him make up for the shotgun blast,
that removed the piece of arm bone,
that connected his elbow, to his shoulder-
Humerus it is, though it’s..., nothing to laugh at.
He tripped with a shotgun, falling on his face, while hunting which, all but blew his arm completely off, more or less.
So, he claimed. Part of me wonders if he didn't...
do it with purpose...
He was living in, a trailer, that should have been condemned. It was like, an old sardine can, with a little dried up sauce, and some scales, and bone, left behind.
It was, as old, as they get, and looked like it was,
abandoned forty years ago. The trailer, was beyond dilapidated, and what was worse, was that he had two children, and a wife.
She was, a pretty good-looking woman, and he was, seriously mental. This reminded me of, the movie Overboard- the house, the kids, and her.
The place stank like several different odors of urine,
and would have been condemned, if the health department ever... stepped in.
Not to mention, the kids would have surely, been removed. Whoa, Gladwin!
It was, as old, as they get, and looked like it was,
abandoned forty years ago. The trailer, was beyond dilapidated, and what was worse, was that he had two children, and a wife.
She was, a pretty good-looking woman, and he was, seriously mental. This reminded me of, the movie Overboard- the house, the kids, and her.
The place stank like several different odors of urine,
and would have been condemned, if the health department ever... stepped in.
Not to mention, the kids would have surely, been removed. Whoa, Gladwin!
Well, this wife of his, had a female friend, from Flint,
(of all places)..., that was visiting, at some point,soon after I arrived.
After mentioning my story, the woman friend, of hers,
was offering a ride..., as far as Flint.
It was better than nothing, so I jumped, at the chance, leaving with her, that night ,or the next day.
Whichever way it was, I was free from their, reality.
(of all places)..., that was visiting, at some point,soon after I arrived.
After mentioning my story, the woman friend, of hers,
was offering a ride..., as far as Flint.
It was better than nothing, so I jumped, at the chance, leaving with her, that night ,or the next day.
Whichever way it was, I was free from their, reality.
The sickest part of it all, was that this guy’s mother
lived on the right side of him. Possibly, sharing the same property. Her place was beautiful-
with all the trimmings...., and extremely well kept.
It was a strange dichotomy, and very creepy. What, was I, to do, but resist the desperate attempts, of this wife, of his- her subtlety, implying, I was to rescue her, from her helplessness- her... reality?
My reality, had become so..., convoluted, that it barely had enough room, for me, to fit in it.
Oh, Life is strange, and unfair..., sometimes.
lived on the right side of him. Possibly, sharing the same property. Her place was beautiful-
with all the trimmings...., and extremely well kept.
It was a strange dichotomy, and very creepy. What, was I, to do, but resist the desperate attempts, of this wife, of his- her subtlety, implying, I was to rescue her, from her helplessness- her... reality?
My reality, had become so..., convoluted, that it barely had enough room, for me, to fit in it.
Oh, Life is strange, and unfair..., sometimes.
This woman’s name, I cannot remember, but it’s easy to recall, that she had a serious weight problem- bad enough, that you couldn’t tell, if she was, male, or female.
One thing, was unmistakable, she often smelled like,
dirty ass.
Her friends, that socialized with her, at the trailer park, that she lived in, would whisper, in her ear sometimes, that she needed to... “spruce up”.
She was a, nice enough person. Don’t get me wrong- just another, unfortunate soul, to which her life became accumulated, with a variety of contamination, that all but robbed her, of her existence.
It’s sad ,to see people surviving, with the Psychological damages, that comprise a decent living standard, and how they feel, about themselves.
Good parenting is, ultimately, the foundation, for every creature, on the planet. You might as well, outright kill your kids, if you aren’t going to, at least, care enough for them, to give them up, to someone who will. You might as well, kill yourself, while you’re at it. Oh, but we’re far, too self absorbed for that... small consideration.
One thing, was unmistakable, she often smelled like,
dirty ass.
Her friends, that socialized with her, at the trailer park, that she lived in, would whisper, in her ear sometimes, that she needed to... “spruce up”.
She was a, nice enough person. Don’t get me wrong- just another, unfortunate soul, to which her life became accumulated, with a variety of contamination, that all but robbed her, of her existence.
It’s sad ,to see people surviving, with the Psychological damages, that comprise a decent living standard, and how they feel, about themselves.
Good parenting is, ultimately, the foundation, for every creature, on the planet. You might as well, outright kill your kids, if you aren’t going to, at least, care enough for them, to give them up, to someone who will. You might as well, kill yourself, while you’re at it. Oh, but we’re far, too self absorbed for that... small consideration.
When we, finally, got to her trailer, I was a bit shocked of how degraded, that area of town was. The park was, really, pretty small. Maybe, there were forty trailers, if there weren’t only, a dozen. A few of them, were fairly well kept.
A couple of, the trailers, were nice, but most of them were ...typical of, very low incomes.
When I set foot, in her place, I was shocked at, how well kept, it was. The place was, spotless- I dare say, beautiful.
A woman friend, of hers, was inside, standing, at the sink. She had been washing, the dishes.
Soon, I learned, how her friends had all, pooled together, to, delouse her house.
My benefactor was shocked, and overwhelmed with joy,
becoming moved to tears, as she realized, what they had done for her.
(I've got to find a larger vocabulary. I think I used “shocked” four times in the last paragraph, and I’m not even speaking of electricity!),
Now, all they had to do was, sterilize her, and her vehicle, having already treated her daughter, since that’s where the discovery was made.
A couple of, the trailers, were nice, but most of them were ...typical of, very low incomes.
When I set foot, in her place, I was shocked at, how well kept, it was. The place was, spotless- I dare say, beautiful.
A woman friend, of hers, was inside, standing, at the sink. She had been washing, the dishes.
Soon, I learned, how her friends had all, pooled together, to, delouse her house.
My benefactor was shocked, and overwhelmed with joy,
becoming moved to tears, as she realized, what they had done for her.
(I've got to find a larger vocabulary. I think I used “shocked” four times in the last paragraph, and I’m not even speaking of electricity!),
Now, all they had to do was, sterilize her, and her vehicle, having already treated her daughter, since that’s where the discovery was made.
Since I was there for several days, I had plenty of time to, get to know her friends. We went fishing, a few times.
One of those times, I realized that her, maybe, fourteen year-old, daughter, was crushing on me… Uuh-ooh.
One of those times, I realized that her, maybe, fourteen year-old, daughter, was crushing on me… Uuh-ooh.
This woman had to go to, Bay City, to pick up her roommate, giving them plenty of, time to, pick my brain. It was her roommate’s addictions that, controlled, the situation now.
Again, the best answers are, often too easy to see, and, always overlooked. I could have sought refuge, with relatives in, Bay City, but my wit, and intelligence, however minimal, were not employed.
Two hours, may have passed, when I was informed that, we were ready to leave, only, it was more like, ”How would you like to go fishing, with us, tonight?”
Well, I don’t’ know about, where you’re from, but where I’m from, that means drinking so, I said, “Of course, I’ll go fishing!”
Again, the best answers are, often too easy to see, and, always overlooked. I could have sought refuge, with relatives in, Bay City, but my wit, and intelligence, however minimal, were not employed.
Two hours, may have passed, when I was informed that, we were ready to leave, only, it was more like, ”How would you like to go fishing, with us, tonight?”
Well, I don’t’ know about, where you’re from, but where I’m from, that means drinking so, I said, “Of course, I’ll go fishing!”
Well-water! When the mother, asked the daughter, if she wanted to go, instead of staying there, and that, I was going too- she came running, out to the van ,and said, she’d be right out.
Twenty minutes later, she came out of the house, in high heels, and giddy. In the euphoria of, flowing hormones, and drunk, on my Pheromones, she tripped and fell, with the tackle box, in her unfamiliar cloak of, womanhood.
It was, at this time, that I put it all together. It probably didn’t help matters any, when we talked about music, and I sang some of the lyrics, from, one of my favorite songs by, Leon Russell, called, “My Cricket:
Twenty minutes later, she came out of the house, in high heels, and giddy. In the euphoria of, flowing hormones, and drunk, on my Pheromones, she tripped and fell, with the tackle box, in her unfamiliar cloak of, womanhood.
It was, at this time, that I put it all together. It probably didn’t help matters any, when we talked about music, and I sang some of the lyrics, from, one of my favorite songs by, Leon Russell, called, “My Cricket:
“I was just thinking about you today,
and the evening was hefting a mountain;
But I cannot get through to you,
find words to say,
oh my darling you’re so far away;
Oh no, I’m not crying-
these ain’t tears in my eyes,
I’m so happy I’m dying with laughter;
If you’d only come over
I’m sure you would see,
we’re not lonely-
my cricket and me.”
June, 26, 1972 release
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_n3lvV3tRa5HjXPOTC1UAQ8TdaPt8PtYzA
When we got back to the, trailer park, a reference, to me finding work, locally, was made a few times, casually mentioning a, strip club.
That, made me afraid of being, set up, to be used sexually, which is probably why I, avoided their bait- that is, if it even dawned on me.
Someone spread the word about going fishing, to the gang. So, they got things together, and, we were gone by sunset.
That, made me afraid of being, set up, to be used sexually, which is probably why I, avoided their bait- that is, if it even dawned on me.
Someone spread the word about going fishing, to the gang. So, they got things together, and, we were gone by sunset.
When we got to, the river, where they liked to fish, the golfers were leaving the course, staring at us, as they took the only way out of, the country club.
Everyone claimed a piece of, the riverbank, and set up, to fish. The woman’s daughter, spent her energies, staying in my sight, and, at my side.
As I think back, on her tripping, over her borrowed heels, I still feel embarrassed for her, and wonder, where she is today, in life.
My only hope for her, is that she has found good things, and connected with someone, to properly care, and share with her.
Everyone claimed a piece of, the riverbank, and set up, to fish. The woman’s daughter, spent her energies, staying in my sight, and, at my side.
As I think back, on her tripping, over her borrowed heels, I still feel embarrassed for her, and wonder, where she is today, in life.
My only hope for her, is that she has found good things, and connected with someone, to properly care, and share with her.
It doesn’t seem like we caught any fish, that night, but we, had a few bites, and beers, and just enjoyed the moments- people, enjoying being together, thankful, to have survived the day, and pulled through all of it’s, agonizing demands.
My fright, between the girl, trying to gain my affections, and the mother, hoping I’d stay, has left little more than a blur, from the time I left, Gladwin, until, the time I had her drop me back off there. It was my escape attempt,
“There’s people there, that I can work for,” I told her.
“There’s people there, that I can work for,” I told her.
My sorrow, for their circumstances, and for, the realities of many like them, in the world, made me wish that, I could be in everyone’s life, who is in need, but the only way, I can have a hope to do that is with music.
The songs, I would write, for all to share, an uplifting message, and my bottled up love, and understanding, for the World’s heartbroken to use, to quench their thirst, for an unavoidable, human need.
The songs, I would write, for all to share, an uplifting message, and my bottled up love, and understanding, for the World’s heartbroken to use, to quench their thirst, for an unavoidable, human need.
Chapter
Seeking refuge, back at the home of, Tom, and Kathy,- the people, "Mike, on a bike," had introduced me to, for odd jobs, was no problem.... little, did I realize, I was being used as an instrument, for manipulation, within their relationship...
Seeking refuge, back at the home of, Tom, and Kathy,- the people, "Mike, on a bike," had introduced me to, for odd jobs, was no problem.... little, did I realize, I was being used as an instrument, for manipulation, within their relationship...
The husband, Tom, wasn’t home, from work yet ,on the day, that I showed up, near the, Wooden Shoe Bar, on, Tobacco River, which is, six miles, east of, Gladwin.
This, gave his wife, Kathy, plenty of time, to vent her frustrations, onto me.
After sitting, and listening, attentively; thankful, for having escaped the reality, I had just, managed my way out of, I found myself, in another world, that was, very much the same.
Her husband was a recovered drug addict whom became a Minister while in prison- if not the prison he had created for himself. California comes to mind. Yes, he was from northern California.
Recently, he had been experimenting, with their son’s, A.D.D. medication. She had become suspicious, and eventually, it all came out, in the open.
My own experiences told me, that it was behavior, triggered, and motivated, by, the vermin he was working with, in the, construction business. Either way, there were no clues, to what kind of situation, I had, unknowingly, volunteered to be a part of. Come sundown, the games would, surely, begin.
This, gave his wife, Kathy, plenty of time, to vent her frustrations, onto me.
After sitting, and listening, attentively; thankful, for having escaped the reality, I had just, managed my way out of, I found myself, in another world, that was, very much the same.
Her husband was a recovered drug addict whom became a Minister while in prison- if not the prison he had created for himself. California comes to mind. Yes, he was from northern California.
Recently, he had been experimenting, with their son’s, A.D.D. medication. She had become suspicious, and eventually, it all came out, in the open.
My own experiences told me, that it was behavior, triggered, and motivated, by, the vermin he was working with, in the, construction business. Either way, there were no clues, to what kind of situation, I had, unknowingly, volunteered to be a part of. Come sundown, the games would, surely, begin.
Shortly, after dinner, Kathy, suggested going out, for a drink- leaving her husband, Tom, home, with their two sons.
Oblivious, to her plans, motives, intentions- her manipulation and, well, resentment, I guess, it was music, to my ears. Mostly, I was interested in, the drinking.
Oblivious, to her plans, motives, intentions- her manipulation and, well, resentment, I guess, it was music, to my ears. Mostly, I was interested in, the drinking.
Kathy, was a Minister also, but today, that doesn’t mean anything that it ,would insinuate traditionally. As, far as, I am concerned, it just means you’re, an acceptable criminal, with actions, having become tolerated, by a, heedless society, but, that’s just my, cynical nature. Or, is it?
Her, and I, sat and drank, for, what seemed like, quite a while. She may have had some pot, too, I don’t recall.
She had, let me know, that she smoked, the first day I met her, back, when I was introduced to her, and her husband, byway of, ‘Mike, on a bike’.
She got a thrill, from taking out her one-hitter, and smoking it, in public, especially if someone offered her, a light, being that it had all of the, visual cues, of being, a cigarette, and,
in every way, was a cigarette.
She had, let me know, that she smoked, the first day I met her, back, when I was introduced to her, and her husband, byway of, ‘Mike, on a bike’.
She got a thrill, from taking out her one-hitter, and smoking it, in public, especially if someone offered her, a light, being that it had all of the, visual cues, of being, a cigarette, and,
in every way, was a cigarette.
If it wasn’t, closing time, it was pretty close to it ,when we, finally, left.
The next morning, Tom, went to work.
Since I was sleeping, on the couch, I had been stirred awake by ,his rustling around, that early morning. A couple hours, or so, later, the rest of the house, got up.
The boys, went off to school, leaving, Kathy and I, alone, in the tiny house.....
She made us some breakfast, while we talked about her family some more. This thing, with her husband, was quite a disturbance, in their relationship. She felt her trust was, violated, and feared, Tom, to become, swept away, by a relapse.
The next morning, Tom, went to work.
Since I was sleeping, on the couch, I had been stirred awake by ,his rustling around, that early morning. A couple hours, or so, later, the rest of the house, got up.
The boys, went off to school, leaving, Kathy and I, alone, in the tiny house.....
She made us some breakfast, while we talked about her family some more. This thing, with her husband, was quite a disturbance, in their relationship. She felt her trust was, violated, and feared, Tom, to become, swept away, by a relapse.
Working in the construction trades, happens to be a very tempting environment, when it comes to, relapses. Typically, tradesmen are, free thinkers. They, most always, drink, alcohol, and use drugs.
Having worked, the trades, for over thirty-five years, it has been my privilege, to observe, and study the habits, and nature, of those, who make up the trades, as a whole.
The guys I stayed away from, were usually drywall hangers, roofers, framers, and concrete workers... but, then again, everyone stayed away from, the Finish Carpenter!
Having worked, the trades, for over thirty-five years, it has been my privilege, to observe, and study the habits, and nature, of those, who make up the trades, as a whole.
The guys I stayed away from, were usually drywall hangers, roofers, framers, and concrete workers... but, then again, everyone stayed away from, the Finish Carpenter!
After hearing my story, of what had happened, up to the point of showing back up, at their house, she offered me a ride.
It appeared, as though, she was helping me to get, back, on the way to, Grand Rapids, and, for that, I was, truly thankful.
After washing up, and gathering what little affects I had, we hopped in her truck, and headed out, towards a place where, she felt was conducive, to me, getting... “home.”
It appeared, as though, she was helping me to get, back, on the way to, Grand Rapids, and, for that, I was, truly thankful.
After washing up, and gathering what little affects I had, we hopped in her truck, and headed out, towards a place where, she felt was conducive, to me, getting... “home.”
After driving, for over, half an hour, or more, we came to the edge, of a city. It may have been, Midland, or, Flint. I cannot remember.
She found the on-ramp, for a highway, that was going west, towards, Grand Rapids, dropping me off, at a car-pool parking lot, where I could easily wander, to the roads edge.
Little did I realize, she was taking one last jab...
She found the on-ramp, for a highway, that was going west, towards, Grand Rapids, dropping me off, at a car-pool parking lot, where I could easily wander, to the roads edge.
Little did I realize, she was taking one last jab...
It must have been lunchtime, because, Tom, happened to pull up, with a couple guys, that he was working with, heatedly, asking me, what I was doing there.
Amid our mutual surprise, we, now, understood what had been choreographed.
Kathy had placed me there, in order for, Tom, to see me. She had led him to believe, that she had her way with me- her deliberate abuse of the trust, in their relationship, in exchange for, the abuse of trust he had donem by using their son’s medication.
What a scandalous, and conniving woman! Either way, between his imagination, and my persona, I’d definitely worn out my welcome- no thanks to her.
Amid our mutual surprise, we, now, understood what had been choreographed.
Kathy had placed me there, in order for, Tom, to see me. She had led him to believe, that she had her way with me- her deliberate abuse of the trust, in their relationship, in exchange for, the abuse of trust he had donem by using their son’s medication.
What a scandalous, and conniving woman! Either way, between his imagination, and my persona, I’d definitely worn out my welcome- no thanks to her.
A guy, eventually, offered me a ride. He had been up from, Chicago, where he had been visiting with relatives. He was, on his way back to, Chicago, after being in, Northern Michigan, visiting his boyfriend.
He was on a vacation break, from the Middle East, where he was, an English Teacher in, Iraq.
This person, ended up driving me all the way to, the door of, Jimmy’s, apartment. Whether, Jimmy, was there, or not, I cannot recall, but the nightmare was the same, regardless.
He was on a vacation break, from the Middle East, where he was, an English Teacher in, Iraq.
This person, ended up driving me all the way to, the door of, Jimmy’s, apartment. Whether, Jimmy, was there, or not, I cannot recall, but the nightmare was the same, regardless.
When I settled in that day, though, I am not sure how much time lapsed ,before it dawned on me.... the dog was gone. What the neighbor told me was, that, Jimmy, had gotten rid of, Brown Dog. Later, I would find out that, Brown Dog, was taken somewhere, on the Westside, where, Jimmy, had left him- trading him for his fix. Brown Dog, was never seen again.
The Kettlewells, would be selling the building, pretty soon, for one reason, or another- though, I am certain it had to do with, the fact that, Jim Kettlewell, was in the hospital, with some kind of cancer, needing a financial boost to help pay for the treatment that he was receiving.
Michelle’s, catting around, had depleted their finances, on top of his losing his income, during the hospitalization, to the point where, they had to liquidate some of their assets.
Michelle’s, catting around, had depleted their finances, on top of his losing his income, during the hospitalization, to the point where, they had to liquidate some of their assets.
It wasn’t until, after returning to work for them, this time, that I had to deal with, a lot of her Crack Cocaine, and Meth addicted, ass-holciates.
Having an agenda of her own, Michelle, took full advantage of being, the middleman. She preferred her own acquaintances, in a lot of property maintenance cases, since the difference in, the money she paid, went to feed her drug habit, not to mention, the fact, that they always had dope to use.
Having an agenda of her own, Michelle, took full advantage of being, the middleman. She preferred her own acquaintances, in a lot of property maintenance cases, since the difference in, the money she paid, went to feed her drug habit, not to mention, the fact, that they always had dope to use.
A requirement, of myself, was to keep busy, no matter what, whether it was, with work, or writing.
When, Michelle, ran out of things that I could do for her, I would pound the pavement, in search of, other work. Her mother, and father, Pierre, and Sydney, were living in the same neighborhood, as much of their rental properties.
Their son, Robert McVoy, lived with them. Often, I would stop by. to visit. Since, Robert, usually had grass, we’d sit, and smoke, on the porch, while having Martini’s.
Mrs. McVoy, would usually have, a tip for me, on where to find a repair or two, that a friend, of hers, needed done to their house. She also, has things for me to do, as she could afford them.
The last job, that I did for her, was, repairing a swinging door, between the kitchen, and, formal Dining Room.
Michelle’s mother, provided a welcome change of pace, from time to time, although, hopped up on martinis, judging by her, grinding jaw.
When, Michelle, ran out of things that I could do for her, I would pound the pavement, in search of, other work. Her mother, and father, Pierre, and Sydney, were living in the same neighborhood, as much of their rental properties.
Their son, Robert McVoy, lived with them. Often, I would stop by. to visit. Since, Robert, usually had grass, we’d sit, and smoke, on the porch, while having Martini’s.
Mrs. McVoy, would usually have, a tip for me, on where to find a repair or two, that a friend, of hers, needed done to their house. She also, has things for me to do, as she could afford them.
The last job, that I did for her, was, repairing a swinging door, between the kitchen, and, formal Dining Room.
Michelle’s mother, provided a welcome change of pace, from time to time, although, hopped up on martinis, judging by her, grinding jaw.
It would come out, how, Michelle, had gotten her knees bashed in, by a dope man, that she owed some money to. Her claim, was that she injured them, on the Golf course.
She might have been attacked, with golf clubs, if there is any amount of truth, in her story, at all, or maybe, she had golf clubs, in the vehicle at the time. Whatever.
She might have been attacked, with golf clubs, if there is any amount of truth, in her story, at all, or maybe, she had golf clubs, in the vehicle at the time. Whatever.
After a while, as her marriage continued to crumble, the work was less, and less. The issue, was that, Michelle, was the middleman, positioning herself between, the hired help and her husband, whom was ordering the work to be done.
She would, always, create access to the money, while padding our costs, and then, shorting us- whatever she could do, to get a chunk for herself, to feed her habits.
She would, always, create access to the money, while padding our costs, and then, shorting us- whatever she could do, to get a chunk for herself, to feed her habits.
Jimmy Huckleberry, would end up hooking up with, Terry Lynn, (one of, my string, of exes), most likely, meeting up with her, on a dope run, one night.
They became an item, and she was, again, in need of a residence. Terry, still had her job, only because she was such an addict that she couldn’t go, very long, without one.
Jimmy, couldn’t keep a job, or an apartment so, between the two of them, it was a real, pathetic attempt, at cohabitation.
They became an item, and she was, again, in need of a residence. Terry, still had her job, only because she was such an addict that she couldn’t go, very long, without one.
Jimmy, couldn’t keep a job, or an apartment so, between the two of them, it was a real, pathetic attempt, at cohabitation.
Terry, had just gotten a new job, working at, Tilman’s Steakhouse, since she could, no longer travel, all the way out to, Standale, to continue working at, Agape,’ as a, Material Handler.
The two of them managed to secure an apartment on, Barnett, West of, Lafayette, on the, South side of, Leonard.
It was an upstairs apartment, overlooking an apartment complex that, Jimmy, referred to as, “Little Africa”.
It was all Black, heavily populated with children, and wanna-be gangsters, crack dealers, and your, general, one-size-fits-all, hood rats. It was, a sad sight, at any hour, of everyday.
The two of them managed to secure an apartment on, Barnett, West of, Lafayette, on the, South side of, Leonard.
It was an upstairs apartment, overlooking an apartment complex that, Jimmy, referred to as, “Little Africa”.
It was all Black, heavily populated with children, and wanna-be gangsters, crack dealers, and your, general, one-size-fits-all, hood rats. It was, a sad sight, at any hour, of everyday.
Jimmy, offered me a room, but it was only because I, had a purpose, in his eyes, with an income source, and allll the trimmings.
Since it was convenient, I took the room- but not without a plan, for myself to move on, as soon, as I could.
Since it was convenient, I took the room- but not without a plan, for myself to move on, as soon, as I could.
The people, that lived downstairs, were two gay men, in their fifties. One of them, had a Tracheotomy. They both were users of, Cocaine, and Crack, as well as, smoking, and drinking heavily, which made them a convenient, hang out for, Jimmy, whom rarely had money of his own for anything.
My first day, was a Barometer, for what the goings on would be. Jimmy, had claimed my, Orthopedic mattress, was stolen- right off of the porch.
Truth is, that he traded it, for Crack.
Anyhow, eventually, I got the mattress back, only after constant protesting, but it was not easy to get over, due to, the fact, that the addict that had been.... sleeping on it, had funked it up, so badly, that it took over, five weeks and, a whole bottle of, FeBreeze, to get rid of the sweet smell of, fermenting garbage juice, and a powerful, and perfectly pungent brand of, Nigerian, toe cheese.
I’d have to say, it was aged for, at least, three months.
Truth is, that he traded it, for Crack.
Anyhow, eventually, I got the mattress back, only after constant protesting, but it was not easy to get over, due to, the fact, that the addict that had been.... sleeping on it, had funked it up, so badly, that it took over, five weeks and, a whole bottle of, FeBreeze, to get rid of the sweet smell of, fermenting garbage juice, and a powerful, and perfectly pungent brand of, Nigerian, toe cheese.
I’d have to say, it was aged for, at least, three months.
So, I had a room, but I wasn’t safe, although, I really didn’t have too much choice available, at the time.
It wasn’t an environment lacking entertainment, by any means.
Next door, on our, West side, was a house, that also faced, South. A Mexican family lived there, spending quite a bit of, time outdoors, in the Summer.
It wasn’t an environment lacking entertainment, by any means.
Next door, on our, West side, was a house, that also faced, South. A Mexican family lived there, spending quite a bit of, time outdoors, in the Summer.
There was an empty lot, between our houses, that may have had a house on it, at one time, but they may have torn it down.
We all used that space, to work on vehicles, at times; since the road was so narrow, you couldn’t do much of anything, only being able to park, on one side of the road.
We had, no driveway, at our place so, we parked in this empty, grass covered lot.
We all used that space, to work on vehicles, at times; since the road was so narrow, you couldn’t do much of anything, only being able to park, on one side of the road.
We had, no driveway, at our place so, we parked in this empty, grass covered lot.
Jimmy, had been drinking Whiskey, and, using Cocaine for, I don’t know how long.
The Mexican guy, next door, had some friends over. They were out in the yard, drinking beers, and barbequing, with the hatch back of their car open, to let the festive sounds escape out into the open air from their car speakers- Mexican music, playing on the radio.
Hung over, and probably still drunk, Jimmy, ran out, yelling and screaming at them. He knew no, Spanish, and they knew little, English.
“A M-P M”, they kept trying to say but, Jimmy, kept yelling.
“A M-P M”, they kept saying, “A M-P M. A M-P M”
Jimmy, at some point, further into his tirade, shut up long enough for his brain to start working, as they kept repeating, “A M-P M.”
By now, I am yelling at him. And, telling him that it’s almost, five o’clock, in the Afternoon.
The Mexican guy, next door, had some friends over. They were out in the yard, drinking beers, and barbequing, with the hatch back of their car open, to let the festive sounds escape out into the open air from their car speakers- Mexican music, playing on the radio.
Hung over, and probably still drunk, Jimmy, ran out, yelling and screaming at them. He knew no, Spanish, and they knew little, English.
“A M-P M”, they kept trying to say but, Jimmy, kept yelling.
“A M-P M”, they kept saying, “A M-P M. A M-P M”
Jimmy, at some point, further into his tirade, shut up long enough for his brain to start working, as they kept repeating, “A M-P M.”
By now, I am yelling at him. And, telling him that it’s almost, five o’clock, in the Afternoon.
Jimmy was, and is probably still, known as, A M-P M but that’s just an example, of a person sleeping through life. It’s never time to... wake up, and if it is, you don’t know, or care anyway.
It, really, began to be clear to me, to take my life seriously. The environment, I was steeped in, and the criticism I had, for those around me, enabled me to see my own problems.
It really surprised me, that I was, once again, in the same environment that, Terry, made into her reality.
My guards were always up, against becoming a junkie. My reality was bad enough, and, quite frankly, I was, literally, scared to death.
It, really, began to be clear to me, to take my life seriously. The environment, I was steeped in, and the criticism I had, for those around me, enabled me to see my own problems.
It really surprised me, that I was, once again, in the same environment that, Terry, made into her reality.
My guards were always up, against becoming a junkie. My reality was bad enough, and, quite frankly, I was, literally, scared to death.
I began Volunteering, for the, Community Outreach, at BelKnapp Commons. Robert turned me onto it, after I lost my job working for, Shawn Dusendang.
Before the work stopped I had made friends with a Painter on the, Rivertown Crossings project, who happened to live a block away from the Commons.
His apartment, was right on my path, when I went to it to get food, and to use the facilities, like, for a job search, on the community computers etc…
Before the work stopped I had made friends with a Painter on the, Rivertown Crossings project, who happened to live a block away from the Commons.
His apartment, was right on my path, when I went to it to get food, and to use the facilities, like, for a job search, on the community computers etc…
The place, he lived in was a, two and a half story, brick house, that was, divided into two residences. He lived upstairs, mostly, because the downstairs was haunted.
The Painter’s name was, Tom, and just like everyone else, I knew and met, he was tormented with substance addiction- alcohol, mostly.
The Painter’s name was, Tom, and just like everyone else, I knew and met, he was tormented with substance addiction- alcohol, mostly.
On, one of the nights, that I visited Tom, since staying at home was so, expensive, he told me the story of the ghost, in the house:
The lady, of the house, had been in love with, the Mailman.
One day, she discovered, that, the Mailman, had interests in another woman, on that block. She had known the man, for a lengthy time, and had a friendship established, with him but when she learned, that he had chosen another woman for marriage, she hung herself, in the living room.
The lady, of the house, had been in love with, the Mailman.
One day, she discovered, that, the Mailman, had interests in another woman, on that block. She had known the man, for a lengthy time, and had a friendship established, with him but when she learned, that he had chosen another woman for marriage, she hung herself, in the living room.
The night, he told me that story, and others, about his own life, I, quickly, scratched out a Poem, for him. It started out with:
“It’s times, when life’s got you in a poke,
when, there’s not enough cash
and, there’s nothing to smoke,
and, you just can’t, think of
or hear a joke
that’ll make you laugh, enough to forget…”
It was a beautiful Poem, about friendship- the value of it, I guess.
“It’s times, when life’s got you in a poke,
when, there’s not enough cash
and, there’s nothing to smoke,
and, you just can’t, think of
or hear a joke
that’ll make you laugh, enough to forget…”
It was a beautiful Poem, about friendship- the value of it, I guess.
One day, after, having been visiting with him, I noticed a house, that had a Ministry sign in the window. The ministry, was looking for computers, to salvage. My computer, was in need of some work, and I hoped to become enabled to repair it- thinking, that they could help me become, somewhat, educated enough to do it.
They led me to believe, that they had a job for me there, inviting me to a, Fellowship meeting, that was held once a week, in a community building, that was part of the, “Little Africa,” complex.
They led me to believe, that they had a job for me there, inviting me to a, Fellowship meeting, that was held once a week, in a community building, that was part of the, “Little Africa,” complex.
Within two weeks, of becoming acquainted with,
the, “Ministry,”, I would be asked, by a person, from the BelKnapp Commons, to help out with a, Neighborhood Carnival, that was being held at a tiny park, located directly, East, of this, particular apartment complex.
A small building, that housed the restroom facilities, had a large, official area- an office, where a covert operation,
of In Cognito Police Investigators worked.
What I learned was, that they were part of, an undercover operation, of this area of town. The guy, who ran the Ministry, was a, suspected drug dealer.
The carnival, was held under the pretense of motivating family activity, all the while, it was working on identifying people, pairing kids with adults, and helping them connect the dots, in the community’s drug activity.
There could have even been listening devices, in their prizes, that were awarded- who knows.
the, “Ministry,”, I would be asked, by a person, from the BelKnapp Commons, to help out with a, Neighborhood Carnival, that was being held at a tiny park, located directly, East, of this, particular apartment complex.
A small building, that housed the restroom facilities, had a large, official area- an office, where a covert operation,
of In Cognito Police Investigators worked.
What I learned was, that they were part of, an undercover operation, of this area of town. The guy, who ran the Ministry, was a, suspected drug dealer.
The carnival, was held under the pretense of motivating family activity, all the while, it was working on identifying people, pairing kids with adults, and helping them connect the dots, in the community’s drug activity.
There could have even been listening devices, in their prizes, that were awarded- who knows.
The two female investigators had, already, told me enough. This was the information, that helped further motivate me to get away from, Jimmy, and Terry, and the rest of the lurking evil. Going to jail again, for any reason, was not on my list of, convenient things to do.
Going to jail, only made things worse, for me. Having, no support group, I, ended up losing what little, I had gained- starting with, my job, every single time.
In order, to recover, the expenses are:
fifteen hundred dollars, at the least.
Unless... someone is Loyal, and responsible enough, to take care of the bills, and, even then, you’ll come home to a place empty, of all of your possessions, that even had the least of value.
In order, to recover, the expenses are:
fifteen hundred dollars, at the least.
Unless... someone is Loyal, and responsible enough, to take care of the bills, and, even then, you’ll come home to a place empty, of all of your possessions, that even had the least of value.
The meetings, that the Ministry held, became a routine before the carnival. Even after, what I learned, I still went. It was better than hiding, at the bar, to avoid the house. It was a support base, despite anything else.
The, Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, on, College Street, also became part of my routine. It was, at these meetings, that, Dan Doyle, and I, crossed paths.... once again.
The, Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, on, College Street, also became part of my routine. It was, at these meetings, that, Dan Doyle, and I, crossed paths.... once again.
Dan Doyle, was about to begin working, on a project that involved woodwork, in a log cabin.
He had another project, or two, going on that involved, electrical service.
He was happy, to offer me a job, knowing my skills, in the trades.
Now, I was gainfully employed again, giving me a, seemingly, safe escape, that filled me with new Hope, as well.
He had another project, or two, going on that involved, electrical service.
He was happy, to offer me a job, knowing my skills, in the trades.
Now, I was gainfully employed again, giving me a, seemingly, safe escape, that filled me with new Hope, as well.
The first project, was a community building, in a trailer park, on the, South end of, Wyoming, off of, South Division, where we installed the electrical system.
Dan, had already completed most of the groundwork, leaving the light cans to be laid out, in a grid pattern, symmetrically spaced.
Being, a Finish Carpenter, I handled this part of it while, Dan, and his helpers, pulled the last of the wire, and installed the switches, and fixtures.
Dan, had already completed most of the groundwork, leaving the light cans to be laid out, in a grid pattern, symmetrically spaced.
Being, a Finish Carpenter, I handled this part of it while, Dan, and his helpers, pulled the last of the wire, and installed the switches, and fixtures.
Working with, Dan, was enjoyable, especially since it entailed gaining some, hands-on, experience to the electrical trade, which I knew little about, since I never had the opportunity to work with, an Electrician.
The end of the day, would come, and, Dan, would drop me off at, Jimmy, and Terry’s.
It was always the same- they’d bum smokes from me, and ask me to buy drinks. So you can, easily, understand my, going to the local bar after work, to buy drinks, and time before I could go home, for bed.
The Scoreboard Bar, became my routine hangout, until, one night when, Jimmy, and Terry, bumbled in- learning my secret.
The end of the day, would come, and, Dan, would drop me off at, Jimmy, and Terry’s.
It was always the same- they’d bum smokes from me, and ask me to buy drinks. So you can, easily, understand my, going to the local bar after work, to buy drinks, and time before I could go home, for bed.
The Scoreboard Bar, became my routine hangout, until, one night when, Jimmy, and Terry, bumbled in- learning my secret.
Terry’s job at, Tilman’s, involved, waiting tables- putting cash, in her pocket every night, which enabled, Jimmy, to squeeze booze out of her, anytime. The Scoreboard, was right on, the dusty trail.
Tilman’s, was a regular hop for a lot of older, affluent women. Terry, tried to get me to apply, for a job there, claiming, the women would, line my pockets with gratuities.
No amount of money, could get me to work, or relate with, Terry, after the nightmares she gave me, in the past. A room, in the same house, was already too much.
No amount of money, could get me to work, or relate with, Terry, after the nightmares she gave me, in the past. A room, in the same house, was already too much.
My secret motivation, behind going to, The Scoreboard, in addition to, delaying going home until the last minute, was hoping to find someone to fill, the huge void in my, life.
Since, recognizing, approximately, how big that void, truly was, I became anxious and, as desperate, as I could ever become.
It would be here, at the Scoreboard, that I would come into the acquaintance with, Michele Shackleton- decendent of,
Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton- Explorer
https://www.biography.com/people/ernest-shackleton-9480091
Since, recognizing, approximately, how big that void, truly was, I became anxious and, as desperate, as I could ever become.
It would be here, at the Scoreboard, that I would come into the acquaintance with, Michele Shackleton- decendent of,
Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton- Explorer
https://www.biography.com/people/ernest-shackleton-9480091
When I sat down, at the bar, I, instantly, recognized a man whom had come to look at the, Suzuki Stinger, that I had advertised as, being for sale before, Joe, and I, were evicted from the, Lake drive house.
My drinking was reprioritizing everything important
in my life so, I lost it. He stole it, rather.
Come to find out, later.
Anyway, this guy, who was at the Scoreboard, was celebrating having just had, a baby boy, but he was acting like a fool on a stool. He claimed he was, “Robo-trippin”, off of a bottle of, Robotussin, a fairly common thing people do- for kicks.
My drinking was reprioritizing everything important
in my life so, I lost it. He stole it, rather.
Come to find out, later.
Anyway, this guy, who was at the Scoreboard, was celebrating having just had, a baby boy, but he was acting like a fool on a stool. He claimed he was, “Robo-trippin”, off of a bottle of, Robotussin, a fairly common thing people do- for kicks.
His stupidity got me laughing, and, the next thing you know, we were both laughing our, fool, heads off.
He was rehashing an old, Monty Python bit- Sir SpamAlot.
Michele, (with one L), was on my left, but I hadn’t noticed her..., yet. She was, "vibing," on us, and was also laughing like a fool, just riding along.
At some point, he had bought her a drink.
After a while, she was trying to get me to follow her home, to hang out. I, was up to, doing anything that didn’t involve going back to, Jimmy, and Terry’s, place. What I found, at her house, was just as bad, if not twice for the worse.
He was rehashing an old, Monty Python bit- Sir SpamAlot.
Michele, (with one L), was on my left, but I hadn’t noticed her..., yet. She was, "vibing," on us, and was also laughing like a fool, just riding along.
At some point, he had bought her a drink.
After a while, she was trying to get me to follow her home, to hang out. I, was up to, doing anything that didn’t involve going back to, Jimmy, and Terry’s, place. What I found, at her house, was just as bad, if not twice for the worse.
Shortly, after getting to her house, I passed out, while sitting there, on the couch. She had put one of her, Trazadone pills, in my bottle of beer, or into my mouth...
When I came back to life, the next morning, my harmonicas were gone, along with my money, and my smokes. It took a month to get my harmonicas back. She had taken them, to someone down the block, for some reason, or another.
At some point, I realized, she had sold them for beer money, but that wouldn’t be until, much, later.
When I came back to life, the next morning, my harmonicas were gone, along with my money, and my smokes. It took a month to get my harmonicas back. She had taken them, to someone down the block, for some reason, or another.
At some point, I realized, she had sold them for beer money, but that wouldn’t be until, much, later.
(Insert the college inn story and that I had been off that day)
The missing harmonicas were a good excuse, to go back to, Michele’s, instead of home. Eventually, Jimmy, got so upset, about me being there, and, not at his place with my money, that he busted in the door one night, with his brother- thinking we had Crack.
Michele, was a lot closer, to the door. She jumped up, and started freaking out. They grabbed her, and were roughing her up; hair pulling, and smacking her. Then it appeared, that one of them had, choked her out.
They had shoved me across the room, where I flipped backwards, over some furniture, trying to get up, by the time she was falling into a motionless heap.
The missing harmonicas were a good excuse, to go back to, Michele’s, instead of home. Eventually, Jimmy, got so upset, about me being there, and, not at his place with my money, that he busted in the door one night, with his brother- thinking we had Crack.
Michele, was a lot closer, to the door. She jumped up, and started freaking out. They grabbed her, and were roughing her up; hair pulling, and smacking her. Then it appeared, that one of them had, choked her out.
They had shoved me across the room, where I flipped backwards, over some furniture, trying to get up, by the time she was falling into a motionless heap.
Jimmy’s brother, was going through the house, looking for drugs, money, and booze- taking a few twenty-two-ounce bottles of, Icehouse, from the fridge.
Now, they were calm, like freaking, Jekyll and Hyde. Jimmy, responded, to my asking him to help me put her on the couch. Then, he started yelling at me, about being down here, instead of his at house, and, actually, commented on me spending my money, with her, and not them.
Another, of many, situations where,
I had been taking hostage, in Life.
Now, they were calm, like freaking, Jekyll and Hyde. Jimmy, responded, to my asking him to help me put her on the couch. Then, he started yelling at me, about being down here, instead of his at house, and, actually, commented on me spending my money, with her, and not them.
Another, of many, situations where,
I had been taking hostage, in Life.
Michele, had responded with instinct, going limp, during the moment he had his hands on her throat- probably the smartest thing she had done, in years. I knew that, in my gut, when it happened, but that didn’t make, Knuckleberry, any bit, less of an, ass, at all.
Earlier, that day had been a, "no work day," for me so,
I played benefactor, taking Jimmy to, the only place around, that he thought, might serve him.
After all, the day was young, and he wasn’t drunk so, there was a chance everything would go smoothly. We walked up to the, College Inn, which is kiddy-corner from, Michele’s, place.
After managing, to slide in, we made our order for a couple beers, only, Jimmy, chimed in, that he wanted a, rum and coke instead- a difference of about, three bucks.
It must have been three, or four minutes later, when I heard the statement, from twelve feet away, over my left shoulder:
“I don’t think you like me very well”
And then, the stools went flying. The lady, behind the bar, Kathy, said that she was calling the cops, and told me to get him out of there.
Kathy yelled at me, saying, that if I ever brought him back, even, just to the parking lot, that I’d be, barred from there too.
When I did go back, there was a sign, on the wall, with a list of names on it.
The sign read:
"Barred till Pigs Fly".
Jimmy’s name, was at the top, in big, fat, red letters.
There were four other names, on that list;
Michele Shackleton’s, name was among them.
I played benefactor, taking Jimmy to, the only place around, that he thought, might serve him.
After all, the day was young, and he wasn’t drunk so, there was a chance everything would go smoothly. We walked up to the, College Inn, which is kiddy-corner from, Michele’s, place.
After managing, to slide in, we made our order for a couple beers, only, Jimmy, chimed in, that he wanted a, rum and coke instead- a difference of about, three bucks.
It must have been three, or four minutes later, when I heard the statement, from twelve feet away, over my left shoulder:
“I don’t think you like me very well”
And then, the stools went flying. The lady, behind the bar, Kathy, said that she was calling the cops, and told me to get him out of there.
Kathy yelled at me, saying, that if I ever brought him back, even, just to the parking lot, that I’d be, barred from there too.
When I did go back, there was a sign, on the wall, with a list of names on it.
The sign read:
"Barred till Pigs Fly".
Jimmy’s name, was at the top, in big, fat, red letters.
There were four other names, on that list;
Michele Shackleton’s, name was among them.
When, Jimmy, decided to throw me out of the house, for not supplying the various consumables, his brother helped him swap a bunch of wires around, in my computer’s hard drive. It isn’t clear, if they did that ,before, or after they made off with my, acoustic guitar. They were, kind enough to load up my belongings, or what was left, after helping themselves to things, bringing them to, Michele’s house, for me.
The Orthopedic bed disappeared, again, but for the last time. It was doubtful, that I would want it back, again, if it ever did resurface.
The Orthopedic bed disappeared, again, but for the last time. It was doubtful, that I would want it back, again, if it ever did resurface.
After a few days, of pleading with him, I did manage to get my guitar back. He knew how much it meant to me, and had hidden it behind the television.
Terry, most likely, had a hand in him getting it back, after selling it for dope, probably harping on him, until he actually began to feel like the bum, that he was so, I am thankful for her, in that matter.
It wasn’t anything special, just a hundred dollar Jasmine, made by, Takamine, but it was mine just the same.
Terry, most likely, had a hand in him getting it back, after selling it for dope, probably harping on him, until he actually began to feel like the bum, that he was so, I am thankful for her, in that matter.
It wasn’t anything special, just a hundred dollar Jasmine, made by, Takamine, but it was mine just the same.
Dan Doyle, started picking me up again, once he got to the point where he could bring me in, on the log home project.
We would start the day off, by going to a place called, New Beginnings, on, Alpine Avenue, for breakfast. Eggs over-hard, with garlic, fried potatoes, with cheddar and onions, whole-wheat toast, ham, and coffee, was always my order.
Dan, would keep lamenting his, Harley Fatboy, that he ordered from a dealership on, Twenty-eighth Street, anticipating the call, when it was finally delivered, which would be any day, now.
We would start the day off, by going to a place called, New Beginnings, on, Alpine Avenue, for breakfast. Eggs over-hard, with garlic, fried potatoes, with cheddar and onions, whole-wheat toast, ham, and coffee, was always my order.
Dan, would keep lamenting his, Harley Fatboy, that he ordered from a dealership on, Twenty-eighth Street, anticipating the call, when it was finally delivered, which would be any day, now.
The engineered log home, was owned by, Mark, and Connie Minster, and, was located on the property that, Adrian’s Romano Terrace, occupies.
The terrace, is a Banquet hall, used for Wedding receptions, and Business gatherings, and is located off of, West River drive, on the Westward hilltop. It was overlooking the river, on the East side of, West River drive, in, Comstock Park.
The house, sits behind it, and is way back, in the woods, accessed from a different road off of, Pine Island Drive.
Connie’s family, has owned the property for a long time.
The terrace, is a Banquet hall, used for Wedding receptions, and Business gatherings, and is located off of, West River drive, on the Westward hilltop. It was overlooking the river, on the East side of, West River drive, in, Comstock Park.
The house, sits behind it, and is way back, in the woods, accessed from a different road off of, Pine Island Drive.
Connie’s family, has owned the property for a long time.
Mark, was a nice enough guy, balding, and recently receiving Hair transplants from, who knows, what part of, his body. His head looked like a grid pattern of planted follicles, where the bald part was used to being.
His wife’s family, made jokes about him, being that his wallet was fat, but he never paid for much. The wallet was fat, all right, fat with receipts. This, was his defense, and his insecurity, over her family being rich, it seems.
They had money, and, he HAD money, adding it up once, in a while, to say, “look, how much I have spent.” Actually, I can’t say I blame him for it; I would have, probably, done the same thing.
His wife’s family, made jokes about him, being that his wallet was fat, but he never paid for much. The wallet was fat, all right, fat with receipts. This, was his defense, and his insecurity, over her family being rich, it seems.
They had money, and, he HAD money, adding it up once, in a while, to say, “look, how much I have spent.” Actually, I can’t say I blame him for it; I would have, probably, done the same thing.
Sooner, than later, I would find out that, Dan Doyle, was not a, skilled Carpenter.
Working, at an hourly rate, he mocked the trade, climbing up and down the ladder for hours, virtually, doing nothing but time, and the, Minster’s, could feel it.
When I started, on the project, a huge contrast began to appear. My intentions, were to show my gratitude through my performance, not to make them look like bumblers.
Working, at an hourly rate, he mocked the trade, climbing up and down the ladder for hours, virtually, doing nothing but time, and the, Minster’s, could feel it.
When I started, on the project, a huge contrast began to appear. My intentions, were to show my gratitude through my performance, not to make them look like bumblers.
One day, the Minster’s, came up to me and put a couple one hundred dollar bills in my shirt pocket, thanking me, for being there.
That day, I told, Dan, and Bill, about it- offering to pay for lunch. The guilt, that I felt, for being associated with the mess that was being made of the project, was, too much, for me to handle quietly. That was... a... peculiar lunch...
That day, I told, Dan, and Bill, about it- offering to pay for lunch. The guilt, that I felt, for being associated with the mess that was being made of the project, was, too much, for me to handle quietly. That was... a... peculiar lunch...
Chili cheese fries, sounded like a calorie packed, greasy-ass meal so, I ordered a full order of that.
The waitress, was having some kind of issue but I really was more concerned with going outside to smoke, than to recognize anything, more than the time it might take, to get our food, hoping it would be a while.
The waitress, was having some kind of issue but I really was more concerned with going outside to smoke, than to recognize anything, more than the time it might take, to get our food, hoping it would be a while.
We, always, went to, Brann’s, on, Alpine, for lunch, and my group didn’t smoke.
When I got back in to my table, the food was coming. The waitress brought it out and came right over, to me. She was so nervous, that she, almost, fell from her legs buckling, dumping the plate on the table, at my right...
and into my lap.
Cheese, chili, and French fries, went slopping all over my area of the table.
A bit traumatized, surprised, to say the least, I kept it together, acting natural, and offering comfort to her by telling her, that it was, "okay."
She was pretty messed up over it, saying, that she would get me another order. After repeating, that, "it's okay", I scraped it off of the table, and, back onto the plate,
proceeding to eat it.
The embarrassment, I felt for her, was, so much, that I couldn’t go on, to humiliate her, any more than she, already, must have felt, with complaint. And, I know, they get charged, for mistakes like that, depending on,
the shift supervisor.
After all, I was, partly, to blame. If I, had not, caught her senses, causing her to be light-headed due to my body’s desperate production of pheromones, it wouldn’t have happened- maybe.
When I got back in to my table, the food was coming. The waitress brought it out and came right over, to me. She was so nervous, that she, almost, fell from her legs buckling, dumping the plate on the table, at my right...
and into my lap.
Cheese, chili, and French fries, went slopping all over my area of the table.
A bit traumatized, surprised, to say the least, I kept it together, acting natural, and offering comfort to her by telling her, that it was, "okay."
She was pretty messed up over it, saying, that she would get me another order. After repeating, that, "it's okay", I scraped it off of the table, and, back onto the plate,
proceeding to eat it.
The embarrassment, I felt for her, was, so much, that I couldn’t go on, to humiliate her, any more than she, already, must have felt, with complaint. And, I know, they get charged, for mistakes like that, depending on,
the shift supervisor.
After all, I was, partly, to blame. If I, had not, caught her senses, causing her to be light-headed due to my body’s desperate production of pheromones, it wouldn’t have happened- maybe.
The guys told me, that she was awe-struck with me, but I failed to see that then. It is understandable,
now, but that’s the first time...,
I actually, "saw", someone fall head-over-heels,
let alone... over me.
Dan’s daughter, Mandy, explained it all to me during the time we would work together, thinking that they were all messing with me until it, actually, happened to me... later in life.
now, but that’s the first time...,
I actually, "saw", someone fall head-over-heels,
let alone... over me.
Dan’s daughter, Mandy, explained it all to me during the time we would work together, thinking that they were all messing with me until it, actually, happened to me... later in life.
Another time, we were there, the waitress, watched me eat a large, wet burrito, from an inconspicuous corner, while I was left confused over what they were interested in. Was it, that impossible... to eat, or, was my eating it..., a seductive art? Was it, the way I licked my lips? Did someone recognize me, from playing music somewhere with, Danimal?
Maybe I wasn’t ready, or healthy enough... to understand.
Maybe I wasn’t ready, or healthy enough... to understand.
Bill, got really bad ,with his drinking issue. Everything went, from bad, to worse. He would show up, at the job, when we would, always, pick him up since he had... no car or license. He would come in, so drunk, that, he didn’t realize he was at the house...... that was in front of the job!
How he got there, or where he’d come from, we never did learn. Dan, just hung his head, in sorrow, for, Bill’s Struggle, with Addiction. It was never clear, how often this happened. Coincidentally, I had known, Bill, and Dan, for, about the same length of time. Dan, would come over to, Bill’s, and drink with us, during the time that I was with,
Dan’s sister, Mary Beth Doyle.
How he got there, or where he’d come from, we never did learn. Dan, just hung his head, in sorrow, for, Bill’s Struggle, with Addiction. It was never clear, how often this happened. Coincidentally, I had known, Bill, and Dan, for, about the same length of time. Dan, would come over to, Bill’s, and drink with us, during the time that I was with,
Dan’s sister, Mary Beth Doyle.
My mom had introduced me to the Bolthouse family by way of Bill’s dad, Bob. It was a bankrupt Plumbing outfit that maintained a customer base from the past, mostly bars, with just enough money coming in to keep everyone high.
Bob, was always recruiting new apprentices for, Bill, and, Bill hated it. Bill, lived in, the front portion of the building, that the plumbing business occupied while, Bob, had a small building, out in the back, that he used as an office,
and sleeping quarters.
Since the building was paid for, no one had to worry about rent. Bills, brother, Mike, ended up creating a bit of quarters for him self, to use when he wasn’t lost, in the Crack Cocaine reality that he had become known to steep himself in. His throat was roached because of it,
as if he had chronic Bronchitis... or strep throat.
Bob, was always recruiting new apprentices for, Bill, and, Bill hated it. Bill, lived in, the front portion of the building, that the plumbing business occupied while, Bob, had a small building, out in the back, that he used as an office,
and sleeping quarters.
Since the building was paid for, no one had to worry about rent. Bills, brother, Mike, ended up creating a bit of quarters for him self, to use when he wasn’t lost, in the Crack Cocaine reality that he had become known to steep himself in. His throat was roached because of it,
as if he had chronic Bronchitis... or strep throat.
Bill, and I, became very close friends, like brothers we never had but, then again, it was just like me... to become close... to those around me, very quickly, which is strange because... I have, always, had... Trust issues.
Black Widow Spider
Black Widow Spider
Bill, had been in, and out, of rehabilitation, and jail, for Alcohol and Cocaine, numerous times. Having been released from prison, more recently, for drunk driving,
and battery on a L.E.O. He did three years, and was released- with Herpes....., of all things.
Poor Billy. I loved him, so much. It tore me apart, to see him in the condition that I had witnessed, at that time, working with him, and, Dan.
and battery on a L.E.O. He did three years, and was released- with Herpes....., of all things.
Poor Billy. I loved him, so much. It tore me apart, to see him in the condition that I had witnessed, at that time, working with him, and, Dan.
Dan Doyle, also, had a drinking problem. He, and I, became acquainted because his sister, Mary, worked at, Florentines, in, Grandville, where I met her- at the same time my mom introduced me to, Bob Bolthouse.
Dan, had an incident involving his stepdaughters, where he did a year, for a, CSC charge. He was, now, a Twelve-stepper..., sober and married, to a school marm.
What I would find out, is that, he wasn’t totally reformed. Suddenly, he couldn’t pay us for our work effort, claiming the Minster’s, were to blame, and not his purchase of the,
Harley Davidson Fatboy.
He gave me a phone to use, that had been his son, Josh’s.
It was, one of, many phones he had, as part of his cellular package. It ended up being kicked into the, Grand River, accidentally, while I was fishing, on a boat dock, about a year later... (alcohol related).
Dan, had an incident involving his stepdaughters, where he did a year, for a, CSC charge. He was, now, a Twelve-stepper..., sober and married, to a school marm.
What I would find out, is that, he wasn’t totally reformed. Suddenly, he couldn’t pay us for our work effort, claiming the Minster’s, were to blame, and not his purchase of the,
Harley Davidson Fatboy.
He gave me a phone to use, that had been his son, Josh’s.
It was, one of, many phones he had, as part of his cellular package. It ended up being kicked into the, Grand River, accidentally, while I was fishing, on a boat dock, about a year later... (alcohol related).
Somewhere, along the line, he had told my daughter, Sarah, who happens to be his niece, that he paid me, six hundred dollars, a week, and, that they should have money from me, by way of child support because he paid me that much. This wasn’t true but I would, soon, hear of it from, Sarah,
in a short while.
in a short while.
Why don’t adults think about what they say, to kids, and how, and what, it will affect before they say it?
Is, Ego and Pride, more important than how a child views their parents?
What a selfish, selfish man.
Little did he realize, he would pay, for the wrong doings, he did to those that trusted him, so much- causing him, a grief, that he would have to have..., in his mind..., for the rest...
of his life…
Is, Ego and Pride, more important than how a child views their parents?
What a selfish, selfish man.
Little did he realize, he would pay, for the wrong doings, he did to those that trusted him, so much- causing him, a grief, that he would have to have..., in his mind..., for the rest...
of his life…
In the meantime, the job was grinding to a halt. Dan had been telling us that he had a draw coming up- only paying us change, to keep us hanging on.
After all, Bill, was satisfied, as long as, he.... had money to support his habits.
As for me, it was easy to get by since, I had, no real demands of myself..., financially, getting by, on the change that he gave me.
It was going to work out better for me..., since I had addictions, that I was battling, that would steal away the money, just as fast, as, I could get it.
More money later, was better than..., no money tomorrow because it got spent, on booze or dope, and my, so-called Friends. And it was typical, to get paid out,
when the draw came... sometimes.
After all, Bill, was satisfied, as long as, he.... had money to support his habits.
As for me, it was easy to get by since, I had, no real demands of myself..., financially, getting by, on the change that he gave me.
It was going to work out better for me..., since I had addictions, that I was battling, that would steal away the money, just as fast, as, I could get it.
More money later, was better than..., no money tomorrow because it got spent, on booze or dope, and my, so-called Friends. And it was typical, to get paid out,
when the draw came... sometimes.
Before this all came to a head, my job had grown, to working with Mandy, training her how to work, with the power tools, and offering her the guidance, and patience, that her own father seemed.... incapable of.
He would, soon, stop her from coming to the project because of our, becoming.... close. His story, was that she had school, College, but the Truth was that... her image of me became much different, than the one created for her, by him, causing fear, and, jealousy to interfere with something that was platonic... and beautiful. Her, and I, wouldn’t see each other, for about nine months,
after, she had fallen, off of the wagon.
He would, soon, stop her from coming to the project because of our, becoming.... close. His story, was that she had school, College, but the Truth was that... her image of me became much different, than the one created for her, by him, causing fear, and, jealousy to interfere with something that was platonic... and beautiful. Her, and I, wouldn’t see each other, for about nine months,
after, she had fallen, off of the wagon.
Mandy, was the first one to get pregnant, at, too early of an age, and the first one to get mixed up with drugs and, eventually, prostitution.
She had, recently, been released from the, Kent County Jail, after serving a year.
Mandy, had, recently, gotten her kids back...., and had a house that she shared...... with another young woman.
The status, of that relationship, I do not know.
My every prayer, was that, Sarah, didn’t take after the misfortune of her cousins, on her mother’s side of the family. Fortunately, she did not get pregnant..., and graduated from high school.
Sarah, was the, only, one to do that on, the Doyle side,
of her family.
She had, recently, been released from the, Kent County Jail, after serving a year.
Mandy, had, recently, gotten her kids back...., and had a house that she shared...... with another young woman.
The status, of that relationship, I do not know.
My every prayer, was that, Sarah, didn’t take after the misfortune of her cousins, on her mother’s side of the family. Fortunately, she did not get pregnant..., and graduated from high school.
Sarah, was the, only, one to do that on, the Doyle side,
of her family.
It wouldn’t be long, before, Michele, went to jail,
for a DUI charge, having been out on bond,
and..., awaiting a trial.
for a DUI charge, having been out on bond,
and..., awaiting a trial.
Act 3
Sandy, and I, met at the College Inn, shortly afterward.
The Minster’s, turned out to be a bickering couple of drunks, as well, the catalyst... for the blowout... with our crew..., ending... Dan’s... mining... operation.
Bill, let me stay at his place, for the time being, since eviction papers were served at, Michele’s, place. So much for me sitting her house, until she got back home.
Bill, let me stay at his place, for the time being, since eviction papers were served at, Michele’s, place. So much for me sitting her house, until she got back home.
Kalamazoo and Burton..., became my new locale for a bit, moving, what was left, of my belongings, to a closet,
in Bill’s upstairs apartment.
He was doing his best, to live, seeking safety, by reading books in his bedroom- a routine, he had picked up while in prison, no doubt.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get out of the grip of addiction. For a reality check, he’d save the liquor bottles, in a recycling container, by the sink but all that did was provide a few drops from each one, to make a, pretty good-sized, drink when he couldn’t muster the few, precious, dollars it took.... for another bottle of rot-gut.
Having done that, a time, or two, while living with, Danimal, I was... allll too familiar.... with... the reality.
in Bill’s upstairs apartment.
He was doing his best, to live, seeking safety, by reading books in his bedroom- a routine, he had picked up while in prison, no doubt.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get out of the grip of addiction. For a reality check, he’d save the liquor bottles, in a recycling container, by the sink but all that did was provide a few drops from each one, to make a, pretty good-sized, drink when he couldn’t muster the few, precious, dollars it took.... for another bottle of rot-gut.
Having done that, a time, or two, while living with, Danimal, I was... allll too familiar.... with... the reality.
Bill, was totally broke..... but every time... he put his card into the ATM..., it would miraculously... spit out...
a twenty-dollar bill- just like magic.
That went on for two months, that I know of.
Work ran out for, Bill, within a day or two of my last day, which left me to call, Salih, to beg for work, once again.
a twenty-dollar bill- just like magic.
That went on for two months, that I know of.
Work ran out for, Bill, within a day or two of my last day, which left me to call, Salih, to beg for work, once again.
In addition to, Bill, I also had a friend.... named, Ralph, who had a house near..., Bono’s Pizza. That was, one place, where I crashed, when I was in the area,
and in need of being off of the street.
One night, when I didn’t have anywhere else to go,
I went to, Jimmy, and Terry’s. I slept in a recliner,
in the living room....
At one point, maybe around five a.m.,
I opened up my eyes... to see, Jimmy..., and a couple other fools..., smoking Crack. It wasn't hard form me to see.
Earlier, I had heavy thoughts about what I was doing,
and where I wanted to go in my life.
It had been my attempt to find my safe haven
within the local meeting with the Ministry group.
They had offered me, a healing attempt, after my confessions, where they gathered around.... me to put their hands upon me..., in prayer.
This was after telling them the intimate details
regarding my life....,
the heavy drinking, and my struggle,
to get away from drugs, that I tried to poison myself with.
My body trembled.... hard during that prayer...
bone rattling hard. I can't lie....
Having recognized that I was in a bad situation in life,
and knowing that I needed
to take the first step, in the right...
direction, was what motivated me...
to reach out to them...
despite their many imperfections.
Who was I to Judge? Salvation is free.
It had been read somewhere by me, that I should not ignore the messenger- though, the messenger is imperfect. The decision, to get away from the dope, and away from those that made up the environment that I was surrounded by, was the most important decision that I could have made, at that time.
When I saw the demons alive around me, in the living room that early morning, it was in-my-face confirmation. It was easy to, just close my eyes, and think to myself,
“You’re right, Zach. It is, definitely, time to move on in life- away from these people, and their poisons. It’s the right thing to do. Do not let the streets steal away your days any longer!”
“You’re right, Zach. It is, definitely, time to move on in life- away from these people, and their poisons. It’s the right thing to do. Do not let the streets steal away your days any longer!”
After sleeping, another couple of hours, I got up, and left, and never went back, or thought much about them, again. The most logical thing, I could think to do was, to cling to the friendship that..., Sandy and I, had developed.
Salih, kept a steady stream of, home, and roofing repairs, that enabled me to feel normal. My only slip-up, with Cocaine, happened after I finished working for her son, Richard, on a remodel that he needed done, after a serious water damage situation, caused by an upstairs snafu.
It was suspected by Sandy, to be a supernatural situation, caused by an eerie ghostly presence, in the upstairs of the home. Sometimes, you could see a person, in the upstairs window, when you walked by the house. This, I saw, myself, on more than one occasion.
It was suspected by Sandy, to be a supernatural situation, caused by an eerie ghostly presence, in the upstairs of the home. Sometimes, you could see a person, in the upstairs window, when you walked by the house. This, I saw, myself, on more than one occasion.
On, the day I finished the job, I took the money, and went to visit my old friend, Jimmy Zemiatis, while ,Sandy, was at work at, Vitale’s.
Jimmy, and I, met at Tommy Brann’s Steakhouse, on, South Division, and, Thirty-sixth Street, when he got off of work at, Erb Lumber.
After a bunch of beers, he started mentioning coke. Since I was fool enough to buy the beers, he figured he’d dig a little deeper. Eventually, he managed to coax me into getting a “teenther”, meaning a sixteenth, of an ounce,
of Cocaine powder.
Jimmy, and I, met at Tommy Brann’s Steakhouse, on, South Division, and, Thirty-sixth Street, when he got off of work at, Erb Lumber.
After a bunch of beers, he started mentioning coke. Since I was fool enough to buy the beers, he figured he’d dig a little deeper. Eventually, he managed to coax me into getting a “teenther”, meaning a sixteenth, of an ounce,
of Cocaine powder.
After throwing down the money, for the coke, we went to his house, where we sniffed powder, drank, and ate the last jar of, Venison stew, that his Dad canned.... before he died of cancer.
There were, mushrooms, in it,
Stumpers, that he had picked, that Summer.
Since I hated, mushrooms,
but I hating being destroyed too,
I ate the stew anyways.
There were, mushrooms, in it,
Stumpers, that he had picked, that Summer.
Since I hated, mushrooms,
but I hating being destroyed too,
I ate the stew anyways.
At some point, I tried to rock up some of the coke.
Shortly after that, his unfaithful beast... of a wife,
Glenda,
finally, dragged herself home- only to demand, that I leave.
She hated me, with a passion which was probably because
I provided, Jimmy, with a bit of insight....
that he was not capable of having on his own- complications... caused... by his.... emasculation.
She had no secrets with me..... since I knew things that
people wished I did not, due to my ability
to see.... inside people.
Eventually, she trumped my hand,
by actually bringing the guy home to meet, Jimmy.
Shortly after that, his unfaithful beast... of a wife,
Glenda,
finally, dragged herself home- only to demand, that I leave.
She hated me, with a passion which was probably because
I provided, Jimmy, with a bit of insight....
that he was not capable of having on his own- complications... caused... by his.... emasculation.
She had no secrets with me..... since I knew things that
people wished I did not, due to my ability
to see.... inside people.
...sometimes.
Eventually, she trumped my hand,
by actually bringing the guy home to meet, Jimmy.
Glenda Palmer...., had been waiting for him for years,
ever since he went to prison. Now, she had five children with, Jimmy, who was poisoning himself over it all.
She didn’t know anything,
about what we had been up to.
All she knew was, that I was there....,
and, that she didn’t want me in, HER house.
ever since he went to prison. Now, she had five children with, Jimmy, who was poisoning himself over it all.
She didn’t know anything,
about what we had been up to.
All she knew was, that I was there....,
and, that she didn’t want me in, HER house.
After hitting the streets, on foot, and heading for home,
I decided, to do something, that I knew better than to do.
It was too early, for a bus,
and I had to walk through the area,
fully exposed to the filth and demons,
that made up that part of town.
There were addicts all over, looking for other people,
who were trying to buy more dope so,
that they could keep going.
My big idea, was to try to sell what, Cocaine, I had left,
to get back some of the money, that I had wasted,
which was, basically, all of what I had earned.
In the end, I only got twenty bucks back,
for the, one hundred and fifty, that I had gone through between the dope... and... the booze... It was...
sickening.
I decided, to do something, that I knew better than to do.
It was too early, for a bus,
and I had to walk through the area,
fully exposed to the filth and demons,
that made up that part of town.
There were addicts all over, looking for other people,
who were trying to buy more dope so,
that they could keep going.
My big idea, was to try to sell what, Cocaine, I had left,
to get back some of the money, that I had wasted,
which was, basically, all of what I had earned.
In the end, I only got twenty bucks back,
for the, one hundred and fifty, that I had gone through between the dope... and... the booze... It was...
sickening.
When I, finally, made it back to ,Sandy’s house, she said her son had seen me, and that he could tell, by my appearance, what it was, that I had been doing.... He should know.
She kicked me out, which lasted a few weeks.
My only choice, that made sense, was to go back to, Bill’s, for that period of time..., having...., no other place to go. That was the last time I ever, knowingly,
used Cocaine of any kind.
It isn’t clear, if it would have helped any, knowing, where or how, to get a hold of Danny... but I am sure it would have been better than going to... – or staying in... a relationship,
with Sandy...., for that matter.
It seems, as I think of these things that happened,
these people, and the situations, that I had
exposed myself to, as part of my preparatory courses
for what I was, inevitably, supposed to do...
my mission, my purpose, my contributions,
while in pursuit of my rewards.
Maybe, I’ll know for sure,
when I get further into this story of events.
She kicked me out, which lasted a few weeks.
My only choice, that made sense, was to go back to, Bill’s, for that period of time..., having...., no other place to go. That was the last time I ever, knowingly,
used Cocaine of any kind.
It isn’t clear, if it would have helped any, knowing, where or how, to get a hold of Danny... but I am sure it would have been better than going to... – or staying in... a relationship,
with Sandy...., for that matter.
It seems, as I think of these things that happened,
these people, and the situations, that I had
exposed myself to, as part of my preparatory courses
for what I was, inevitably, supposed to do...
my mission, my purpose, my contributions,
while in pursuit of my rewards.
Maybe, I’ll know for sure,
when I get further into this story of events.
A few days later, Jimmy Zemiatis, came by Bill’s apartment, to do some drinking, and fish around for some coke, knowing, Bill, had coke around a lot in the past-
no thanks, to me telling him that.
no thanks, to me telling him that.
Anyway, Jimmy’s Father was an alcoholic,
and had served in the Military, doing a tour,
in the Korean War.
Jimmy tried to keep from becoming a hard drunk
but... ended up... a coke addict,
and it had a lot to do with, the area,
he had taken up residence in,
as well as, the messed up logic behind urine screens,
since they did random drug tests....
at his place of employment.
Cocaine, is out of your system, in three days.
It makes for.... a great selling point-
mind control- the power of suggestion...
Oh geez.... Even a Blind man, can see.
and had served in the Military, doing a tour,
in the Korean War.
Jimmy tried to keep from becoming a hard drunk
but... ended up... a coke addict,
and it had a lot to do with, the area,
he had taken up residence in,
as well as, the messed up logic behind urine screens,
since they did random drug tests....
at his place of employment.
ACT 4
The Truth
It makes for.... a great selling point-
mind control- the power of suggestion...
Oh geez.... Even a Blind man, can see.
Soon after we got another bottle,
Bill, became way beyond messed up.
Being in prison, only to return to his old drinking habits,
had taken a toll on him..... He was curiously drunk...
after two drinks..., disappearing to his room, to lie down.
A moment later, we heard a big commotion,
and a very loud thud... Somehow,
the room spun, throwing, Bill, into a piece of furniture,
severing the outer rim of his right ear.
I still can’t understand, how he was so drunk, off of so little.
Bill, became way beyond messed up.
Being in prison, only to return to his old drinking habits,
had taken a toll on him..... He was curiously drunk...
after two drinks..., disappearing to his room, to lie down.
A moment later, we heard a big commotion,
and a very loud thud... Somehow,
the room spun, throwing, Bill, into a piece of furniture,
severing the outer rim of his right ear.
I still can’t understand, how he was so drunk, off of so little.
The next day, I put the stitch in his ear,
that I had suggested,
when he was too obstinate,
to think that it was a good idea.
It was a really big task,
trying to get the needle to pierce...
through the cartilage.
Now that I think about it,
I should have done, a topical flesh stitch,
on the back and front but, oh well.
How many bad ideas, did the World endure, because of
alcohol? The Pyramids??? Maybe... What’s one more?
Geesh!
This was, another one of those situations, that told me, alcohol, was a serious problem.
I just wasn’t ready, to take that path or maybe,
I still had some things, on my list to do...
before that ascension.
It was one more thing to put in my pipe, I suppose.
The possibility of love had me so blinded,
that I never considered any need for growth,
other than an, off, and on, willingness...
to see that alcohol... wasn’t good... for my “roomatism” ...anymore.
Sandy’s consistent imbibing, only made it seem acceptable to, 'not worry about it,"
as wining, and dining, almost always,
made up the most part of our... Courtship.
I’d quit, when she quit but she’d quit, when I quit,
so it became quite clear, that we’d never quit,
as long as, we were... together.
As, great, of company, as, Sandy, was to me,
I’m not sure she would have been a long-term toleration... without alcohol. By long term..., when you’re in between drinks..., I mean like... a few weeks, to two months.
That’s forever, when you’re aggravated.
Since I was still working, on my mom’s house in, Conklin, when, Sandy..., finally..., lost it entirely with me,
I had a place to stay. Like I said a while back,
she left me because of my association with, Danimal.
Reluctance, over losing my female companion...,
was paled by relief..., and gratitude.
It meant, that I could make myself happy
...by being myself again-
by following my forever desire...
to play music..., and write.
Music, made me happy... when I played.
It didn’t matter what I played at all.
Even if it was just a Playskool...
xylophone, plastic drumstick,
with rainbow colored strike plates,
sitting on the floor... with a child,
and... with a mess all around-
just banging away...., I was happy.
That happiness, spirit, almost entirely stripped away.
Thank God, I found what was left to rebuild....
Thank God, for the air I breath...today.
Danimal, was a guy that I, really, got along well with.
He didn’t hide from himself in sports and television,
or by judging others... The drinking... was probably
the only wrong thing that we did.
And, him, being influenced, by the, Jazz Age...
it was just a tool, and part of the environment.
Maybe it was, Danny’s, lot in life,
to be an example... to people,
since, almost, everyone liked him.
Then people would, easily, see the destructive forces
of denying love to a child, and what alcohol does,
to a life, on top of that hurt.
I resemble that, exactly- the poster child..., if you will....
That... hurts... to admit.
The drink may not be, as bad as, combining it with a damaged person, who has a hunger for something that can only come from another human being.
Like the damage done, to a young mind, caused by an improper balance, in nurturing... and development.
It’s the pain of what’s missing when a young boy needs a father.
The pain of the unanswered questions... that only a dad, or mom, could give you.
It’s the sting felt, by a child, because, dad,
was too selfish..., to be dad..., not caring enough to give
anything... of himself... to anyone.
Why do we let the heartless live?
Only, because we hope they will find what they are looking for.
We hope they will change, for the good.
We hope they will learn... the importance..., and value,
of Love- and how it affects the whole world..., virally.
But who’s to say, who is heartless, and who won’t change?
Who’s to say, who is what but themselves... of themselves?
Wouldn’t that require honesty?
I begged myself, to find out of myself.
I begged myself to see.
I fought against man’s diseases to live.
I have learned to struggle... to become freed,
but... my struggle is not over, nor is my work done.
Only, because we hope they will find what they are looking for.
We hope they will change, for the good.
We hope they will learn... the importance..., and value,
of Love- and how it affects the whole world..., virally.
But who’s to say, who is heartless, and who won’t change?
Who’s to say, who is what but themselves... of themselves?
Wouldn’t that require honesty?
I begged myself, to find out of myself.
I begged myself to see.
I fought against man’s diseases to live.
I have learned to struggle... to become freed,
but... my struggle is not over, nor is my work done.
My lessons, in life, would continue with, yet, another seriously dysfunctional relationship. My efforts with my mother were contributing but so, was the struggle with trying to work with her.
It seemed like the project would go from, difficult, to highly improbable, as it progressed..., almost like a dance or a war. It was like,
“Oh yeah. Well then... see if you can do…this,”
as if, she wanted me to struggle, to fail.
But I kept on at it, trying to prove my worth to her;
trying to give of myself, and for her to accept me.
All I was looking for was, a thank you, a hug-
something... but nothing came.
My heart was crying out, and I was getting nothing.
And I just could not drown out the pain.
The truck, that she was going to pay me with,
was merely... a tool... that I needed... but ...
without the rebuilding of the foundation in our relationship,
it was useless to me. What I wanted was to stop drinking...
but my broken heart was burning,
and I couldn’t function with that constant burning.
It seemed like the project would go from, difficult, to highly improbable, as it progressed..., almost like a dance or a war. It was like,
“Oh yeah. Well then... see if you can do…this,”
as if, she wanted me to struggle, to fail.
But I kept on at it, trying to prove my worth to her;
trying to give of myself, and for her to accept me.
All I was looking for was, a thank you, a hug-
something... but nothing came.
My heart was crying out, and I was getting nothing.
And I just could not drown out the pain.
The truck, that she was going to pay me with,
was merely... a tool... that I needed... but ...
without the rebuilding of the foundation in our relationship,
it was useless to me. What I wanted was to stop drinking...
but my broken heart was burning,
and I couldn’t function with that constant burning.
After scrounging up, what change I could find lying around,
I would ride my bicycle six miles, in the dark, to Ravenna,
on Sundays, just to get a jumbo or two...
Six miles, to a place that I had never been to, in the daytime, before, was a challenge. Luckily, the stars were visible...
remembering their placement helped guide me home.
I would ride my bicycle six miles, in the dark, to Ravenna,
on Sundays, just to get a jumbo or two...
Six miles, to a place that I had never been to, in the daytime, before, was a challenge. Luckily, the stars were visible...
remembering their placement helped guide me home.
An old train trestle was converted, to a bridge that crossed a deep ravine. At the bottom, was a creek ,with rock crashing waters.
Here..., is where I would stop to drink my beer, and smoke... with the sounds of rushing waters...,
and those beautiful stars- basking in the only love
the world had to share with me,
that I could take and have for my own.
Here..., is where I would stop to drink my beer, and smoke... with the sounds of rushing waters...,
and those beautiful stars- basking in the only love
the world had to share with me,
that I could take and have for my own.
The Muskottawa Trail, was an old train route that was part of a bike trail program. One night, when I was riding back from my evening, Sunday, trip to get beer, that I bought with beer cans that were left laying about, by my mother’s boyfriend, and change, from a coffee can, in the kitchen, I hit a big bump in the path.
Having bought two beers, I was, now, going back
to the house, with the one that I had left.
The bump... in the path sent me flying over the handlebars, and onto the asphalt... with my backpack and forty ounce bottle of Magnum....
one dollar and nine cents, plus tax and deposit;
my bike came after me..., making for, a pretty ugly heap
in the roadway.
Having bought two beers, I was, now, going back
to the house, with the one that I had left.
The bump... in the path sent me flying over the handlebars, and onto the asphalt... with my backpack and forty ounce bottle of Magnum....
one dollar and nine cents, plus tax and deposit;
my bike came after me..., making for, a pretty ugly heap
in the roadway.
When I regained my composure, to inspect my bike,
and saw that the contents of my pack were...,
surprisingly, unharmed, My attention turned to the bump...
in the pathway. Then I recalled a very small bump
in the trail but what I found was,
a long tree trunk laying across the path.
The small bump was the thin end...
Someone must have thought that it would be real funny
to catch a person, in the dark, with that...-
ruining.. their trip... to the beer store!
It was easy to imagine the giggling, as they did it,
seeing the, Busch beer cans,
in the area, that had been.... discarded by the perpetrator.
Strange as it was, and as scary, as it was to almost lose my beer, I am not positive that it wasn’t my own practical joke... laid out from my last trip back.... Or maybe it was...
my grandfather working, in my subconscious...
he was a practical Joker.
I never actually recalled it, exactly,
but I could see me doing something like that.
Once home, I climbed into Uncle Bill’s old Chevy Camper van, with Dusty, and my jumbo, we listened to the radio that I had strung out there on an extension cord, and then we went to sleep- happy... we both had...
those moments together.
and saw that the contents of my pack were...,
surprisingly, unharmed, My attention turned to the bump...
in the pathway. Then I recalled a very small bump
in the trail but what I found was,
a long tree trunk laying across the path.
The small bump was the thin end...
Someone must have thought that it would be real funny
to catch a person, in the dark, with that...-
ruining.. their trip... to the beer store!
It was easy to imagine the giggling, as they did it,
seeing the, Busch beer cans,
in the area, that had been.... discarded by the perpetrator.
Strange as it was, and as scary, as it was to almost lose my beer, I am not positive that it wasn’t my own practical joke... laid out from my last trip back.... Or maybe it was...
my grandfather working, in my subconscious...
he was a practical Joker.
I never actually recalled it, exactly,
but I could see me doing something like that.
Once home, I climbed into Uncle Bill’s old Chevy Camper van, with Dusty, and my jumbo, we listened to the radio that I had strung out there on an extension cord, and then we went to sleep- happy... we both had...
those moments together.
It was easy, to find other things to do, than be trapped in Conklin. So, I started spending a little time at, Danny’s,
and got him to come out to help me,
at my mom’s house..., with some painting.
He kept landing these apartment jobs,
eventually, coming into a bathroom renovation,
for an, excessively, large breasted, Troll.
She seemed nice enough but the bathroom was,
in a trailer, for the twenty-first century-
they call them, modular homes now,
and, it was a culmination of corrupt cobbling.
The heat flew right out of the place, and it was a pure mess but we could drink, and smoke weed while we worked so,
we didn’t really care.... We were getting paid for it.
and got him to come out to help me,
at my mom’s house..., with some painting.
He kept landing these apartment jobs,
eventually, coming into a bathroom renovation,
for an, excessively, large breasted, Troll.
She seemed nice enough but the bathroom was,
in a trailer, for the twenty-first century-
they call them, modular homes now,
and, it was a culmination of corrupt cobbling.
The heat flew right out of the place, and it was a pure mess but we could drink, and smoke weed while we worked so,
we didn’t really care.... We were getting paid for it.
Yet, another teenage girl threw herself at my attention,
the woman’s daughter, Casey. She went on, and on, about her friends, and their band, the carnival...,
and her dad,... and music.
Her father and I, strangely enough, had become acquainted when I worked for the carnival, during a seriously low point of my life... following the divorce.
The child, having been what you would call, “over-exposed,” was seemingly mature, in her asserted manner of speaking, ....and with her appearance.
She was a full figured girl ,with a D cup.
She went out of her way,... to stay in my attention.
At some point, the girl’s mother, Julie, placed herself in my
...scope of vision,... mentioning.. her own.. breasts.
the woman’s daughter, Casey. She went on, and on, about her friends, and their band, the carnival...,
and her dad,... and music.
Her father and I, strangely enough, had become acquainted when I worked for the carnival, during a seriously low point of my life... following the divorce.
The child, having been what you would call, “over-exposed,” was seemingly mature, in her asserted manner of speaking, ....and with her appearance.
She was a full figured girl ,with a D cup.
She went out of her way,... to stay in my attention.
At some point, the girl’s mother, Julie, placed herself in my
...scope of vision,... mentioning.. her own.. breasts.
Myself, very unaware of ego, and the nature of the family relationship that I was in the middle of, I fed right into the madness ,and took the bait. I am not sure if I was genuinely interested, or if I became interested by capitalizing on the possibilities that this, simple matter of convenience, created for me- although, nothing about it was simple... except for
the mistake... of allowing myself... to become prey-
“haste makes waste”.
Oh, but the words of, Proverbs:
“beware of the harlot,"
were clouded over by alcohol, and selfishness,
and the very foolish partaking of instant gratification...
None of this would be realized until illuminated,
by the light of reflection, motivated by,
an untimely series of life changing events...
and catastrophes.
the mistake... of allowing myself... to become prey-
“haste makes waste”.
Oh, but the words of, Proverbs:
“beware of the harlot,"
were clouded over by alcohol, and selfishness,
and the very foolish partaking of instant gratification...
None of this would be realized until illuminated,
by the light of reflection, motivated by,
an untimely series of life changing events...
and catastrophes.
At some point I think I said to myself, “any woman, with that pimply of a face, has to be capable of loving a person.”
Her, Rosacea, was so bad, I figured...
she’d have to be loyal…
This, I would think,
but sometimes people are just truly ugly,
....no matter... their appearances.
Despite her having to, actually, rehab
the working bathroom, for me to use,
and that the place looked like, a third world country,
or that the doors were ripped off of their hinges,
which should have indicated a lurking violence,
I overlooked it all, and drifted into their reality...
with my foolish heart.
At some point, she set the hook in my ego,
with statements about failed relationships,
and how men, with no purpose, and very little use,
had only wanted her... for her... money.
A sensible, self respecting man,
with the least amount of dignity,
could see that bit of manipulation
while in a coma... but not me.
My mother said that I never did listen...
Her, Rosacea, was so bad, I figured...
she’d have to be loyal…
This, I would think,
but sometimes people are just truly ugly,
....no matter... their appearances.
Despite her having to, actually, rehab
the working bathroom, for me to use,
and that the place looked like, a third world country,
or that the doors were ripped off of their hinges,
which should have indicated a lurking violence,
I overlooked it all, and drifted into their reality...
with my foolish heart.
At some point, she set the hook in my ego,
with statements about failed relationships,
and how men, with no purpose, and very little use,
had only wanted her... for her... money.
A sensible, self respecting man,
with the least amount of dignity,
could see that bit of manipulation
while in a coma... but not me.
My mother said that I never did listen...
Your life, I have learned, is a business.
Chose your business partner wisely-
from some failures,.... there is no recovery.
Chose your business partner wisely-
from some failures,.... there is no recovery.
My decision resulted, in a serious scolding from, Danny, becoming involved, with a customer,
but he dealt with it while there was not much
that he could do, at the time,...
to offer change... to the situation.
Few days would pass before she would...
come out to, Conklin, for a pint of Guinness,
at the Irish Pub, by the house that I worked on,
...and stayed... at.
She, soon, wanted to go back to her house,
on the rental side of, Rockford,
and rather than ride with her ,and return with Danny,
I insist on following her,... in my truck.
Why did I do that?
I probably did it because I could, and because my ego was imprisoning myself. After all, it was bad enough that I was living at moms, and really had no Monet at all-
just an uninsured truck, and the urgency for anything...
that instantly gratified me.
So, seems how I really only had enough of, Degass,
to get there, I was stuck for a few days,
only to need to make the, VanGogh, to the CMH,
in Grand Haven... I wish the appointment was to have had my head examined but it was not,...
just a routine medication check-up.
Afterward, Dan, and I, stopped in to visit ,RB, at the music store, where we bought a strap for my guitar, and where I noticed the break in the transmission line that went, to, or from, the cooling unit.
The shops, in the area, held a hardware store that happened to sell, JB Weld, and, after remembering everyone,
(even Paul Harvey), rant and rave about it,...
I decided to try it.
Cleaning the oil residue, from the tubing surface, was my
main concern.... but I managed to locate
some electrical cleaner,... for soldering.
The repair was a success but also a failure because I did not locate an orifice to refill the fluid, in the transmission.
The shops, in the area, held a hardware store that happened to sell, JB Weld, and, after remembering everyone,
(even Paul Harvey), rant and rave about it,...
I decided to try it.
Cleaning the oil residue, from the tubing surface, was my
main concern.... but I managed to locate
some electrical cleaner,... for soldering.
The repair was a success but also a failure because I did not locate an orifice to refill the fluid, in the transmission.
The Conklin house, was still on my routine agenda but was not as important as, trying to escape the constant reminder of having an extremely uncomfortable relationship,...
with my mother.
Danny’s loft, in the Gezon building warehouse, was serving as a place to crash but not really for living in. There was no running water, no sink- only windows, and a freight elevator, and one lone toilet, that was almost always trashed or plugged; repercussions of a biological hazard of,...
life threatening proportions.
So, we just pissed out of the window, which happened to face the office building of, the City Housing Inspectors,
and, building maintenance department-
the cops, in affect…
with my mother.
Danny’s loft, in the Gezon building warehouse, was serving as a place to crash but not really for living in. There was no running water, no sink- only windows, and a freight elevator, and one lone toilet, that was almost always trashed or plugged; repercussions of a biological hazard of,...
life threatening proportions.
So, we just pissed out of the window, which happened to face the office building of, the City Housing Inspectors,
and, building maintenance department-
the cops, in affect…
We’d, (I said weed), collect our dishes, in a plastic tote,
to take to the places we were working on, that had running water.
In such cases, where we had no place available to use for washing dishes or hygiene purposes, we would go to a friend’s house- like,.... Julie Wickman's.
to take to the places we were working on, that had running water.
In such cases, where we had no place available to use for washing dishes or hygiene purposes, we would go to a friend’s house- like,.... Julie Wickman's.
Julie Wickman, owned property, and had two dogs,
that Danny walked for her,...
mostly as a consolation for using her dishwasher.
She came by the loft one day,
to score some Delight from, Danimal,
and was already there, when I arrived.
During my animation, she had whispered something...
that made Danny shout out his forbidding,...
“No!.. You can’t sleep with Zach!...
Everyone wants to sleep with Zach!”
that Danny walked for her,...
mostly as a consolation for using her dishwasher.
She came by the loft one day,
to score some Delight from, Danimal,
and was already there, when I arrived.
During my animation, she had whispered something...
that made Danny shout out his forbidding,...
“No!.. You can’t sleep with Zach!...
Everyone wants to sleep with Zach!”
It didn’t matter because I was already pursuing other interests, however poor. Her, and I, became friends, and she soon shared, with me, how she had wanted a baby for years but failed to discover a man worthy of sharing a life with, let alone, being a father.
So, she adopted, finally, at the age of forty-five. And, that I know of, she never married. She served, as a person of interest, in Danny’s life, and had he gotten a handle on his drinking, she could have been far more.
So, she adopted, finally, at the age of forty-five. And, that I know of, she never married. She served, as a person of interest, in Danny’s life, and had he gotten a handle on his drinking, she could have been far more.
As for the woman, with the bathroom repairs,
sooner or later, I decided to move in with her...
even after Danny’s protest.
I am quite positive that it was out of my anguish
over my immediate familial dysfunctions-
mostly the difficulty relating with my mother,
that influenced my decision but I can’t deny that the constant availability of beer, weed, and female affection,
was high ranking on my priority list.
Besides, bringing the issue up, of curbing my drinking,
I felt that it would only impede on, using the opportunity to, virtually, create an instant family, which would help in getting an edge on prying my way back into my children’s lives despite, Minderella’s,.... conniving... and scheming.
This woman, was clearly in need of a man, in the home.
The living standards were very low- no order, no structure. The kitchen was always a disaster,
and, “mom” was at work,
when she wasn’t... at the bar... looking for a sucker...
I mean a mate.
She had, just, filed for a, divorce, not long ago.
And, the daughter’s father, had, just died...
of, Liver cancer,... from, drinking and...
shooting junk, into his veins.
Story was, that he was in, The Hells’ Angels,
did time in, San Quentin, and was an, Heroine user,
who hid out in, the Carnival circuit,
where he met, this woman,
after her, failed, attempt to...
get into,... the Porn industry- landing her there.
A lot of it prodded my heart, like there was some, great, task for me to do there. Yeah, she was probably the most unattractive female I had ever seen, which only made me feel that much more sorry for her. And I was willing to try anything...... to get away from, my own torment.
A True, "Stone In My Shoe," in every sense...
https://soundclick.com/share.cfm?id=7626591
The living standards were very low- no order, no structure. The kitchen was always a disaster,
and, “mom” was at work,
when she wasn’t... at the bar... looking for a sucker...
I mean a mate.
She had, just, filed for a, divorce, not long ago.
And, the daughter’s father, had, just died...
of, Liver cancer,... from, drinking and...
shooting junk, into his veins.
Story was, that he was in, The Hells’ Angels,
did time in, San Quentin, and was an, Heroine user,
who hid out in, the Carnival circuit,
where he met, this woman,
after her, failed, attempt to...
get into,... the Porn industry- landing her there.
A lot of it prodded my heart, like there was some, great, task for me to do there. Yeah, she was probably the most unattractive female I had ever seen, which only made me feel that much more sorry for her. And I was willing to try anything...... to get away from, my own torment.
A True, "Stone In My Shoe," in every sense...
https://soundclick.com/share.cfm?id=7626591
I sincerely Hope that you have found some value
in this piece of the story.
Thank you all very, very much for your time. And, if you are a prospecting entity, entertaining the notion of picking up this work to publish. I awoke at 3:02 am, and went right to work on this piece. It is now 3:11- taking two hours out of my day to tend to horses, counsel my co-worker, whom is having serious mental health issues due to being a Veteran.
(update- Beginning at 3 A.M. and not taking a break, I am now finished with my second revision of edits and illustrations. It's not perfect but it's my very first piece, other than poetry that has been published. It is now, 10:40. That is 30 hours and forty minute in two days to complete this. I think that's pretty okay- Don't you?)
I hope that I have demonstrated my ability to apply myself, and complete something. I do not have a formal education in writing.
My acquisition, of what skills I have is, mostly due to my own studies of writing, as well as the writing/punctuation use of other writers. I have not studied the writing styles of other writers- resisting to read but for my own pursuit of non-fiction work for the sake of educating myself in the things that are of interest to myself, and how it may be useful in my future. Again, Thank You.
Zachery S. Polk
231-487-8889
Prospect Studio
The Bluesilingus People
First Use Rights
