Save A Life, Don't Drink and Drive :
Friday Nov. 13th
"Save a Life, Don't Drink and Drive" says the hooptie, an old pick-up truck. I was driving home from work when I read the bumper sticker from the commuter in front of me. Wow, Filled with joy, I think there is hope. This man is convincing me with this bumper sticker, seriously! I could hug him for his noble message, or perhaps just a sticker to look more inconspicuous in the eyes of the police. Either wayI'm moved.
Saturday, Nov. 14th
I drove home under the influence of southern comfort and cranberry juice. After three glasses, perhaps 5-8 oz. of fine bourbon I felt the time for my departure was looming. My core temperature was up as was my confidence and self assurance.
"I am never going to drink and drive again." a quote from my own mouth. I have suffered losses of friends from making the same choice. I have heard report after report of casualties related to drunk drivers. I have listened to my family tell unfortunate stories of loved relatives cause damage, suffering, and injury after a few drinks. Still I drive. Blurry vision, altered mindset, and the possibility do not stop me from reversing from the parking spot.
What will It take? Prison awaits. Fines await. Injury or worse is waiting to strike like an irritated cobra. M.A.D.D is waiting for me to slip. Yet, I slip over and over. Like so many Americans facing 2nd and 3rd DWIs , We continue to make the mostly deadly choice.
I understand the consequences, But will the consequences have to carried out in order for me to truly realize.
No, My life and yours will not be endangered , I hope.
Monday, Nov 16th
More bourbon, though substantially less than before. My vision was not really affected. I was okay to drive, says the hypocrite. Sorry.
I am afraid of my 21st birthday.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Life, Death, and Politics
Once, When I was eleven or so..
I was one in a gang of 20. Our town was poor and separated by north and south. A boy named Foster; Brian Foster was the eldest of us. He was about 17 but threw hooks like he was no more than a toddler. Luckily for him he was a built with a deceiving frame and boy he was a brilliant crook. He was second in command. Second to me.
Them southern boys thieved up and down the sidewalks of ‘Rock Chester’ from sunrise to sunset. ‘Rock Chester Natives’ they called themselves. Each day they sold the loot across the bridge in New Jersey. They ran a genius enterprise and it turned a tremendous profit. How it irked Foster to the bone to not be able to take a cut from the sidewalk vendors of his own town.
Mr. Washington paused and let out a low bellowed laugh. He had an entertaining idea. ‘We will cut the Achilles tendon of each and every Native pawn. Then we will take the heart of their King and assume absolute control of the enterprise.’ Foster raved. He was an ambitious fool.
One of the magistrates that stood listening to the speaker asked like a schoolboy in class, " Sir, Did you not fight?"
Mad as young Foster. Lead my crew of 20 into battle with 40 odd boys? How do the Spanish say? Esta Loco. I knew better than to lead my boys to slaughter. Nevertheless, taking control of their enterprise was enticing. Eventually I would wage war.
I began by sending the smallest of the boys to do reconnaissance work. They stalked the Native's guards like ninjas moving with cover of the shadows. After a week we knew all their favorite targets. We watched and noted their preferred methods of attack. By the time we had scheduled how often the young entrepreneurs were rotated, my young ninjas caught up with an ol' boy who was running off to see a cute little town's girl. He was cornered and hit across the chin, then brought to me, El Grande Shogun.
Poor kid pissed his pants before I could even start to administer some good ol' corporal punishment. He spilled the entire hierarchy after giving me a bit of useful information about a heist that the leader, a boy named 'Shade', was planning in upper Rock Chester N.Y.The natives were to take on 'Tommy Long Pawn'. Their plan was to send two youngsters in asking about a gold ring. When close enough they would both knife Tommy, the only employed attendant. Then a group of five more would storm into the shop to rip off weapons, jewelry, and electronics. The Boys in Blue were waiting. After the attempted assault their presence was made know and I believe a couple of arrests were made as well. I sent for the pisser to be thrown over the bridge. Two days later the N.Y Pig Department raided the Native's hideout and barracks. Their reign was finished.Those whom were lucky enough to be spared by the fuzz eventually found us for protection. Our numbers grew by the dozens, and Foster created unprecedented profits running the new business.
"Did you kill the boy?" a gruff voice asked amid the shadows of the basement room.”
That boy, that rat was the sole reason the southern Natives fell. We sent him swimming with an engine block for a float I fastened him to." Washington’s sternness resonated slowly around the basement’s crowd. Everyman standing and listening to their commanding chief digested the story without as much as a stomach growl. A ruthless expression deep in Washington’s eyes bore into the pupils of the man bound by the knotted manila rope. He who is gagged, beaten, and bound to a chair that is centered in front of Washington’s officers, is a present day officer for New York Police Department. With emphasis on the “was”, he was also an officer in Washington's ranks.
"Bury Him." Washington finally spoke. Washington, even beneath the ominous aura of the colorless basement, wore dark and tinted wood grain rectangular suns glasses. His suit, probably Italian, absorbed what little light illuminated the cold space. The graying gentleman stood and spoke with a dignified assertion. In unison each standing officer spoke. ”Sir, yes Sir.”
A man dressed in pressed black and white suit came to the bottom of the stairs. He tried to address the raconteur in a whisper. After the second failed attempt at gaining Washington's attention he let out a faux cough. Washington stepped toward the coughing man and was reminded. "Sir you have an appointment with Senator Davis."
"Right, Well Boys. " He turned and faced the room. "I am a busy fella’ these days. You are all doing splendid work. It shall be a Merry Christmas for each of you and your families." He shifted and started ascending the stairs. After he reached the fourth step, he turned and lowered his head under the doorframe just enough to make eye contact with the imprisoned man.
Like a true politician he grinned, gave a minute wave, and spoke to those ‘Bastard Knights’. " Send the rat pig to his grave, alive."
I was one in a gang of 20. Our town was poor and separated by north and south. A boy named Foster; Brian Foster was the eldest of us. He was about 17 but threw hooks like he was no more than a toddler. Luckily for him he was a built with a deceiving frame and boy he was a brilliant crook. He was second in command. Second to me.
Them southern boys thieved up and down the sidewalks of ‘Rock Chester’ from sunrise to sunset. ‘Rock Chester Natives’ they called themselves. Each day they sold the loot across the bridge in New Jersey. They ran a genius enterprise and it turned a tremendous profit. How it irked Foster to the bone to not be able to take a cut from the sidewalk vendors of his own town.
Mr. Washington paused and let out a low bellowed laugh. He had an entertaining idea. ‘We will cut the Achilles tendon of each and every Native pawn. Then we will take the heart of their King and assume absolute control of the enterprise.’ Foster raved. He was an ambitious fool.
One of the magistrates that stood listening to the speaker asked like a schoolboy in class, " Sir, Did you not fight?"
Mad as young Foster. Lead my crew of 20 into battle with 40 odd boys? How do the Spanish say? Esta Loco. I knew better than to lead my boys to slaughter. Nevertheless, taking control of their enterprise was enticing. Eventually I would wage war.
I began by sending the smallest of the boys to do reconnaissance work. They stalked the Native's guards like ninjas moving with cover of the shadows. After a week we knew all their favorite targets. We watched and noted their preferred methods of attack. By the time we had scheduled how often the young entrepreneurs were rotated, my young ninjas caught up with an ol' boy who was running off to see a cute little town's girl. He was cornered and hit across the chin, then brought to me, El Grande Shogun.
Poor kid pissed his pants before I could even start to administer some good ol' corporal punishment. He spilled the entire hierarchy after giving me a bit of useful information about a heist that the leader, a boy named 'Shade', was planning in upper Rock Chester N.Y.The natives were to take on 'Tommy Long Pawn'. Their plan was to send two youngsters in asking about a gold ring. When close enough they would both knife Tommy, the only employed attendant. Then a group of five more would storm into the shop to rip off weapons, jewelry, and electronics. The Boys in Blue were waiting. After the attempted assault their presence was made know and I believe a couple of arrests were made as well. I sent for the pisser to be thrown over the bridge. Two days later the N.Y Pig Department raided the Native's hideout and barracks. Their reign was finished.Those whom were lucky enough to be spared by the fuzz eventually found us for protection. Our numbers grew by the dozens, and Foster created unprecedented profits running the new business.
"Did you kill the boy?" a gruff voice asked amid the shadows of the basement room.”
That boy, that rat was the sole reason the southern Natives fell. We sent him swimming with an engine block for a float I fastened him to." Washington’s sternness resonated slowly around the basement’s crowd. Everyman standing and listening to their commanding chief digested the story without as much as a stomach growl. A ruthless expression deep in Washington’s eyes bore into the pupils of the man bound by the knotted manila rope. He who is gagged, beaten, and bound to a chair that is centered in front of Washington’s officers, is a present day officer for New York Police Department. With emphasis on the “was”, he was also an officer in Washington's ranks.
"Bury Him." Washington finally spoke. Washington, even beneath the ominous aura of the colorless basement, wore dark and tinted wood grain rectangular suns glasses. His suit, probably Italian, absorbed what little light illuminated the cold space. The graying gentleman stood and spoke with a dignified assertion. In unison each standing officer spoke. ”Sir, yes Sir.”
A man dressed in pressed black and white suit came to the bottom of the stairs. He tried to address the raconteur in a whisper. After the second failed attempt at gaining Washington's attention he let out a faux cough. Washington stepped toward the coughing man and was reminded. "Sir you have an appointment with Senator Davis."
"Right, Well Boys. " He turned and faced the room. "I am a busy fella’ these days. You are all doing splendid work. It shall be a Merry Christmas for each of you and your families." He shifted and started ascending the stairs. After he reached the fourth step, he turned and lowered his head under the doorframe just enough to make eye contact with the imprisoned man.
Like a true politician he grinned, gave a minute wave, and spoke to those ‘Bastard Knights’. " Send the rat pig to his grave, alive."
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Tragedy of the Boy in Love..
He hummed the entire tune to " love me do " in anticipation to tell her how he felt. A twenty-minute drive so he could see her. He has no ipod, no radio, he commutes smiling and listening to the music in his head. She will no doubt be waiting for him because he arranged this tryst a half hour before.
"How about we meet at our favorite park?" He asked.
"Your favorite park, No. " she responded.
"Alright, What about at the pond where we fed the ducks?"
His kind voice made her irksome as he asked ever so politely.
"No." she said again.
"Okay. Great idea. The Coffee House, Ill buy you a vanilla cappuccino." He tried once more.
"That will work." She finally agreed.
He was two minutes away when he started planning his poetic speech.
" I ... You are to me..." He murmured. "No, My Love for you is like winter." "Perfect" he thought.
As he pulled into the lot, his eyes searched every parked car for his Love's yellow V.W. bug.
"Where is her chariot?" He wondered. "
Surely she is here. I told her exactly 3:00pmHe checked the dash clock, and compared it with his wristwatch. The car read 3:02, and his watch read 2:59.
Without a worry he strolled inside and greeted the curly haired barista with a wave and smile.
"Can I have a vinte vanilla cappuccino with soy milk. It is for my girlfriend , she is lactose intolerant. Yea, she will be here any moment, oh could you add extra whip to that please?"
He felt demanding and tipped the barista a five, bringing the total bill to $10 dollars. He took a seat with the best view of the only entrance. An over sized love seat that would be plenty of room to share their love. He fluffed the two maroon swade pillows and placed them symmetrically on both ends. As he waited comfortably, he compared his wristwatch to the coffee mug wall clock. 3:14 and 3:15 read the two timepieces. Any moment now...
"How about we meet at our favorite park?" He asked.
"Your favorite park, No. " she responded.
"Alright, What about at the pond where we fed the ducks?"
His kind voice made her irksome as he asked ever so politely.
"No." she said again.
"Okay. Great idea. The Coffee House, Ill buy you a vanilla cappuccino." He tried once more.
"That will work." She finally agreed.
He was two minutes away when he started planning his poetic speech.
" I ... You are to me..." He murmured. "No, My Love for you is like winter." "Perfect" he thought.
As he pulled into the lot, his eyes searched every parked car for his Love's yellow V.W. bug.
"Where is her chariot?" He wondered. "
Surely she is here. I told her exactly 3:00pmHe checked the dash clock, and compared it with his wristwatch. The car read 3:02, and his watch read 2:59.
Without a worry he strolled inside and greeted the curly haired barista with a wave and smile.
"Can I have a vinte vanilla cappuccino with soy milk. It is for my girlfriend , she is lactose intolerant. Yea, she will be here any moment, oh could you add extra whip to that please?"
He felt demanding and tipped the barista a five, bringing the total bill to $10 dollars. He took a seat with the best view of the only entrance. An over sized love seat that would be plenty of room to share their love. He fluffed the two maroon swade pillows and placed them symmetrically on both ends. As he waited comfortably, he compared his wristwatch to the coffee mug wall clock. 3:14 and 3:15 read the two timepieces. Any moment now...
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Tragedy continued..
3:38 ; She arrived. Donning a burberry plaid scarf and wrapped in a white Aura that filled his vision. She walked in swinging her coach handbag by the strap. Not in a cute manner, but in a violent, "why the hell am I here" way.
"Baby, You Made it! I was beginning to get worried about you, I thought you might have had an accident. Is your phone dead? I tried calling it several times and it always went straight to voice mai..."
She interrupted him, " Look, we need to talk."
"Is that mine?" She asked gesturing towards the coffee that sat on the small side table.
He nodded his head, and wore a genuine smile.
As she reached for the once warm cup his eyes glowed with admiration.
He spoke in a faint tone.
"Let me share first! I brought you here so I could tell you what is burning in my mind. You must know..."
"This is cold" , she informed him after taking a pro-longed sip.
"Is it? Hehe, Just like me love for you." he responded.
"Huh?" She asked and stared with bewilderment. "So, You feel the same way?
"Yes. These four month of courting have been unbelievably fantastic.
And, well.. I love you! "
He sat a moment letting his words thoroughly resonate. After a short moment of silence he grinned and started to recite.
"My love for you is like the winter,
It is.. "
She cut him of, " Frigid and annoying?"
"What ? No of course not." He giggled and continued.
"My love for you will never seize to exist
It is enduring and cozy
Guaranteed, My love for you is
Following fall, I fell for you
Like the temperature drop from summer to winter, I fall in love with you."
She shivered as if being truly cold, but really having just fully digested his spoken words. In her despondency she found three words.
" I like summer "
" Summer is the month our relationship took its first blossom... And,"
Her mind trailed outside the coffee house. She traveled back in time recalling the time spent , wasted , with him.
She remembered the carnival and the enormous over sized panda he had won for her. The frequent surprise visits to her house and work.The size six uggs that had been a perfect fit and warmed her feet like he had never done himself.
She began to remember his insistence of celebrating their one month anniversary that fell coincidentally 3 days before her birthday. That particular week rained attention , obsession, and spoils. A fitted wrist watch started the week off. The Tiffany co. necklace complemented the watch to every shinning detail. The stunning piece boasted two modest diamonds and a silver chain. It was a gorgeous anniversary gift.
A two tier German chocolate birthday cake, that was no doubt home-made and decorated, fed her and her girlfriends for countless days.
And Andy... Andy was creme of the crop of presents. A gesture that was so over the top NASA would have commended the endeavour. Palm sized, Andy was an adorable white and brown shit-poo. The little mixture of Shiatsu and Poodle had been bestowed with a rhinestone carrying case(She hoped hadn't been custom decorated by him like the birthday cake).
Her reverie was cut short by his seemingly simple question.
"I love you unlike anyone I have ever loved.
Will you marry me?" He did it, he actually proposed.
She tried to subdue the cringing of her rose red upper lip. Both two wheels that operated her fragile mind slowed to a near dead pace. She couldn't prevent her gorgeous face from contorting into a monstrous look that resembled a Yettie.
She brushed her golden hair out from in front her face. And her eyes met it for the first time. Her Igor like facial impressions returned into her naturally beautiful gaze into the heart of the impeccable stone that he held in his right palm.
"Well I.. Maybe we shhoo.." she began to stutter.
"Yes, I will"
"Baby, You Made it! I was beginning to get worried about you, I thought you might have had an accident. Is your phone dead? I tried calling it several times and it always went straight to voice mai..."
She interrupted him, " Look, we need to talk."
"Is that mine?" She asked gesturing towards the coffee that sat on the small side table.
He nodded his head, and wore a genuine smile.
As she reached for the once warm cup his eyes glowed with admiration.
He spoke in a faint tone.
"Let me share first! I brought you here so I could tell you what is burning in my mind. You must know..."
"This is cold" , she informed him after taking a pro-longed sip.
"Is it? Hehe, Just like me love for you." he responded.
"Huh?" She asked and stared with bewilderment. "So, You feel the same way?
"Yes. These four month of courting have been unbelievably fantastic.
And, well.. I love you! "
He sat a moment letting his words thoroughly resonate. After a short moment of silence he grinned and started to recite.
"My love for you is like the winter,
It is.. "
She cut him of, " Frigid and annoying?"
"What ? No of course not." He giggled and continued.
"My love for you will never seize to exist
It is enduring and cozy
Guaranteed, My love for you is
Following fall, I fell for you
Like the temperature drop from summer to winter, I fall in love with you."
She shivered as if being truly cold, but really having just fully digested his spoken words. In her despondency she found three words.
" I like summer "
" Summer is the month our relationship took its first blossom... And,"
Her mind trailed outside the coffee house. She traveled back in time recalling the time spent , wasted , with him.
She remembered the carnival and the enormous over sized panda he had won for her. The frequent surprise visits to her house and work.The size six uggs that had been a perfect fit and warmed her feet like he had never done himself.
She began to remember his insistence of celebrating their one month anniversary that fell coincidentally 3 days before her birthday. That particular week rained attention , obsession, and spoils. A fitted wrist watch started the week off. The Tiffany co. necklace complemented the watch to every shinning detail. The stunning piece boasted two modest diamonds and a silver chain. It was a gorgeous anniversary gift.
A two tier German chocolate birthday cake, that was no doubt home-made and decorated, fed her and her girlfriends for countless days.
And Andy... Andy was creme of the crop of presents. A gesture that was so over the top NASA would have commended the endeavour. Palm sized, Andy was an adorable white and brown shit-poo. The little mixture of Shiatsu and Poodle had been bestowed with a rhinestone carrying case(She hoped hadn't been custom decorated by him like the birthday cake).
Her reverie was cut short by his seemingly simple question.
"I love you unlike anyone I have ever loved.
Will you marry me?" He did it, he actually proposed.
She tried to subdue the cringing of her rose red upper lip. Both two wheels that operated her fragile mind slowed to a near dead pace. She couldn't prevent her gorgeous face from contorting into a monstrous look that resembled a Yettie.
She brushed her golden hair out from in front her face. And her eyes met it for the first time. Her Igor like facial impressions returned into her naturally beautiful gaze into the heart of the impeccable stone that he held in his right palm.
"Well I.. Maybe we shhoo.." she began to stutter.
"Yes, I will"
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
माय पिच
Okay society, you have pushed and punched. You try to dictate my life like you do so many others. Truth is I am the salesman, and I don't buy your crap. I will pitch my idea, my plan , my strategies of life. You, society, will take the back seat and watch. Do Not open your mouth while I am navigating! This trip is underway, the sails are set and the seas are looking mighty menacing. I am only afraid of the variables. Afraid of the malicious wave's potential. The course is known to me. The vessel has been concocted. Behind me I have the undiminshing vigor of the wind. I hope you are ready to take notes culture. I plan to show you that the paved golden path isn't a roundabout. Quite the contrary, the path is steep. The path will no doubt be tiring and demanding. None the less, the path is paved with gold. The path is up.
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