Children

Top ten things that you must be aware of when you have a child:

1.)  While You Sleep:  You are most vulnerable while you are sleeping.  Never trust a child.  They can be so mischievous.  Children are never tired and as adults, sorry, you will be tired. You are not four no more. While you sleep they have the whole run of the house.  Put all snacks away, including chips, candy, and other kinds of junk food.  If they are missing in the morning do not I repeat do not blame the dog.

2.)  A Moment of Silence:  This may not be listed as rule of thumb one but is the number one thing.  As a parent you should expect NO silence ever.  If you ever hear absolutely nothing.  Run, duck, hide, take cover, and get ready for the worse.  Children are never quite so if they become silent you know something is about to go down.

3.)  The Bathroom:  The bathroom is a battlefield with an endless supply of weapons and ammunition.  Anything is the bathroom is fair game for a child.  Toilet paper, shampoo, soap, toothpaste, and other items like dental floss.  Toilet paper is an especially useful weapon for children.  It can be used to plug a toilet or run ribbon through the house.

4.)  Litter Box:  The litter box can have multiple purposes such as a cat box/sand box.

5.)  Keys:  We all know keys jingle like little bells.  It also has buttons which make your truck or car alarm go off.  What child wouldn’t want to rattle those keys around and just plain and simply fuck with you.  They seem to always go for the red alarm button.  Horn honking and lights flashing and your heart pounding from being scared.  Keys can double as a object for children to hide.

6.)  Sippy Cups:  Sippy cups are a must.  Open top cups can often be spilled and will be spilled.  Even if they are eight, nine, or ten give them a sippy cup.

7.)  Mud Puddles:  Puddles are a inviting hole of water and mud.  If he/she is dressed in their best outfit for school watch them closer then close.  The are and will make it into that puddle on way or another.  Carry them if possible.

8.)  Bed Time:  This can be the toughest time of the day.  They never want to go to bed.  No matter how tired they are they just wont quit.  They will fight you the whole way.  Expect them to get up at least one or twice.  Be prepared for water or with the toy they previously had.  For some reason they will want one or the other.,

9.)  Toys on the Floor:  This can really put a man to his knees.  Stepping on that sharp edged toy.  It hurts like no other and will get a swear out of you whether you swear or not.

10.)  Cuddles:  Take the cuddles while you can.  As they age cuddles will grow to be extinct.  Take advantage of any chances of them cuddling or loving you.  When they get to old you mine as well forget about it.

The Game of Life.

He awoke on a daily basis to be the father people could only dream about having.  A hard worker and someone that everyone looked up to, especially his own daughter.  The man was a rather big dude in his prime.  Six foot two and two hundred fifty pounds.  The weight was muscle weight and not that chubby beer belly type of weight.  The funniest part about him is that he wore bandannas just like Hulk Hogan did in the eighties which made him look identical to Hogan, as well.  Children in the school would come out and ask his daughter if her dad was a professional wrestler.  She would giggle and become embarrassed.  He would egg all the children on by dressing in parachute pants, bandana and a ripped shirt like Hogan and show up to pick his daughter up.  The children loved it.  Any reaction of smiles really got him off.
He always talks about how the smile on children’s faces made his day as much as it made theirs.  That is a inspiring way to look at life.  Always putting someone else first to an extent.  You always get what you put in and he put in a lot and in return had a lot.  At that point in time in his life he had a great wife, a wonderful daughter, and nice things including house, job, and vehicles.  Good things come to people who wait and he waited long enough.  He struggled his whole life and worked hard and his dues had finally been paid.  Life was on the up and up.  It is the little things in life which make the greatest impact and he took advantage of that saying.
His daughter came home from school one day and was incredibly embarrassed.  As all the kids peered out the small little rectangle windows of the bus and looked into the front yard they couldn’t believe their eyes.  The lawn had been cut in a special way for his daughter.  He mowed a large heart with her initials mowed in it.  He knew all his daughters friends and all the kids on the bus would talk about how cool he was and elders would think he loved his daughter to the max.  He got his point across to his now embarrassed daughter.  Most children would be spoiled to have these things happen.  To be shown love.
His entire life came crumbling down almost instantly.  It started with the loss of his job.  He had no problem finding another but nor making the same kind of money.  Something had to give and something’s went unpaid.  The worse thing is that he let go of more then he should.  Two weeks before they were having their house foreclosed on, his wife found out through the paper and not from him.  He was losing it all.  His wife and daughter moved out, he lost his house, one of the cars, and everything in the house;  This was all in the matter of a month or two.  It doesn’t take long to lose everything but it takes so long to get things.
The point of this story is that good things come to good people.  You get what you put in.  Is there something everyone didn’t know that explains what happened.  Until this day no one knows.  We all ask repeatedly but get the same answer.  A shrug and a tear.  It doesn’t matter how big you are or how great of a parent you are it only takes one mistake to lose your entire life without losing your life. Life can throw curve balls at anytime and no matter how prepared you are for them you just never know which curve they may make.  Every curve ball is different and you cannot prepare for them all.  Just do your best in life and make every moment count.

week 13 my precious box

I could be considered a hoarder but I don’t think I am.  I always save many trinkets and others little memory artifacts for my pleasure.  I have a hard time letting go of the past.  Missing my childhood and never wanting to grow up is just part of my issues.  I like to hear songs from my past, game systems, and other reminders from my childhood.  The eighties were great and we all know that.  Hair bands and Nintendo what more does anyone need.  It is funny because as I go through boxes in my closet which I have no remembrance what fills these boxes.
I saved everything in my cardboard drawer.  My blue cast was right on top and I almost didn’t even dare to touch this.  This cast had impressionable writings on it from eighth grade friends.  I could barely read some of the words on it where they have been so weathered.  The cast was full of love letters from my middle school years and notes which buddies wrote back and forth to me.
It was funny to see these letters and this cast.  Such simple things that brought up hurtful memories from my this time in my life.  I keep around this box full precious materials to remember certain situations of my past.  To other people in this world these box full of my precious memories would mean nothing.  As time goes by these trinkets will always be here to remind me. Who would have any meaning for this dirty old cast full of notes from my broken ankle I had in the eighth grade.
As I dug threw this box some more I found other neat little life reminders.  A rock collection from my Dad, a coin collection which I received many of them from different family members, and even something as stupid as a ring I found at Echo Beach.  I keep it all and it is so “I” can look back.  Then it hit me.  A shimmering in the corner of my eye.  I knew what it was instantly but tried to ignore this part of my life due to the immense emotion it had brought on.
My grandfathers cuff links is was this shimmering was.  Why it was so dear to me was the fact he had passed away.  He was a great guy and meant a lot to many people but he had a special meaning to me.  These cuff links were more then just cuff links.  They told a story of his life.  They told a story of his struggle with cancer which he over came multiple times only to trip over his oxygen line and hit his head and pass away before his time.  These cuff links had meaning to all that seen them but they had there own special meaning to me.  That is why they were in my box of special items which I will remain saving through out my life and time.

week 13 I wanted and lost

I don’t know how it all came about but it happened.  The cats were here and that is all that mattered to me.  Me and my future wife lived in this small little house in which we rented.  Being on a main road you would think that we would hear all the traffic passing by but we couldn’t.  We enjoyed that a lot.  What we enjoyed most was the company of the many people that stopped in to see us.  I enjoyed all the company.  Different friends and relatives all the time and even sometimes I wouldn’t even like them but I enjoyed their company still.  For the want of company I got it whether it was good or not.
You had to pick and choose your battles and that was one of them.  On person whom came by on the regular was my girls uncle.  He was an older fellow but he took a great liking to me.  Gay as could be he was but I made sure first thing their was no misunderstanding.  He appreciated me being honest as everyone does and we hit it off.  He was a prior chef who worked at many famous restaurants around the country and use to make me things all the time.  Hopefully his potentially want for me was never an issue between us because we had a great friendship.
My birthday rolled around and I received no presents or even a call from all my so called friends.  I never wasted my time caring and that’s how I grew to choose.  Everyone seemed to want something from me and I blew their wants off.  I knew how they really all were.  People show their true colors eventually and it was a way for me to know how they are.  Her uncle though, got me two great gifts and a cake.  The cake was not an original cake it was a whoopee pie cake.  He knew me well.  The presents were great it was camping gear and I loved camping.  He knew what I wanted.
Was this all because of his sexual preference.  Not at all but most would insist it was. He was just a nice guy and he loved his niece.  I took great care of her and he knew it.  I received this call from a friend of both me and her uncles.  It was disappointing.  I knew he was diabetic and he went into a diabetic shock.  The one man that cared for us was having health issues beyond my control.  I felt helpless and I looked for a way out of this mess but all I got was a seat in the waiting room.  The things you always want and care about always seem to turn into something else.
He was dead by this time.  He lost his battle which he had won for years.  I always seem to lose the things that are most dear to me. He was one of them.  I only knew him for about 3 years but that was long enough to know he was a great guy.  Bad things always happen to good people and this was another prime example of this.  From this simple want of a great friend the friend was lost.  I had all kinds of emotions running through me like was it my fault, I asked him for a cake (did he eat it while making it, and other questions kind of blaming myself but the simple fact was it was his time.

week 13 Grain of sand within my hand.

Just another day being a young punk living in a small town or as Mainers would call it, city.  Brewer, Maine is where I grew up as a child and where I had the most fun that a child could ask for.  A lot of the things we use to do I look back now and wonder why we did the shit we did.  Most of it was “childish” like you would think.  Even though I call it childish you needed to hang on to your britches to survive.  Parents really lacked in their parenting so we ran ramped around the trailer park which I resided.
I refrain from telling people about my child hood because they will either think badly of me or feel so bad for me.  It is kind of a catch twenty two with my life.  I remember it all started around Christmas.  We were out shopping, me, my brother and my mom, when I saw something I wanted.  It wasn’t like I wanted some expensive oversized toy.  What I wanted was a little tiny Christmas stocking.  By little tiny, I mean it could barely fit a package of Hubba Bubba gum.  I had to have it though, it drew me in like a kid in a candy shop.  It was going to be mine.
I asked my mother if I could please have it and she told me no.  Well I wasn’t taking no for an answer.  So, when she wasn’t looking I through it in one of the bags that had already been checked out.  This stocking was MINE… When we got home, of course, my mother saw it.  Instead of getting in trouble, she chuckled.  This egged me on to do this some more.  I was three and a thief.  A outlaw and I was no robin hood.  I was stealing from the rich and I was the poor.  If my mom would have been a mom and told me it was bad and done the parental thing, maybe all the negative may have left my childhood.
We were at Shop ‘n’ Save getting a few groceries not two long after my prior theft and the rush I had prior came over me once again.  I saw a bin of lighters.  They use to have lighters back when I was a child in big bins at the check out isles.  So I grabbed a few.  I knew what I was doing was wrong but no one was their to tell me so.   As a child you see the world as a grain of sand.  You don’t understand the way life works.  How time goes by or how the flowers bloom.  I had the world in the palm of my hand but at this moment it was a few lights of all colors.
I stashed these lighters behind the shed by our trailer and saved them for a rainy day.  That rainy day came, but not literally, me and a few friends had gotten together at a fort we had in the trees outback.   Once again, I held the world within a grain of sand upon my hand and little did I know these next few actions could have made me live eternally, but not alive.  We lit the woods on fire.  It is disturbing to talk about due to how this could have been avoided by parents just being their for us children.  As the grass and trees started to really get going in flame we heard the sirens.
The sirens screamed toward us and we were panicking.  What the heck did we do!  Why the heck did we do this!  All these feelings were screaming through my body.  It seemed as time stopped but it sure didn’t.  People were running towards were we had done this disgraceful deed.  I knew something had to give and it wasn’t going to be me. We all scattered into the bushes and I knew I had a spot that made me invincible.  Stupid us we hid next to the small blaze at this time.  As people by the dozen showed up to put this fire out, I knew we got over our heads this time.
They found all the rest of my crew and I was thanking god at this point they didn’t find me. I heard the talking of the firemen to my friends.  They didn’t give me up though, thank god.  As I returned home I got the wrath of my Dad whom just happen to return home at the worse time possible for me.  Not just the wrath of my father but next thing I knew we had to go to the Brewer Police Department for lighting the woods on fire and for stealing lighters.  Why the hell would I ever do this.  What was I thinking.  I thought I ruled the world upon a grain of sand within my hand.  I held the world upon my palm and cared not for the feelings or thoughts of anyone else.

week 13 from small to big or big to small

The day starts out rather slow and steady as I roll out of bed and do the usual, morning day off routine.  This starts with me pulling my mask off my face, which I use in order to get a good night sleep, but this morning it wasn’t on.  I’m no fortune teller but I can tell I’m going to be ignorantly tired all day since I chose not to put on my mask.  I know this makes me so tired not using it but I still do it.  Usually my wife will wake me up with an elbow to the ribs telling me to “put my damn mask on” in a rather vicious way though.  As I sit on the edge of my bed and pull up my sweats I try to remember the simple task that my, once in a blue moon, day off  has in reserve for me.  I have nothing planned, as of yet.  I usually don’t try and plan things I am more of a, go with the flow, kind of guy.
This morning had gotten my full attention rather quickly as I looked out the window and saw all kinds of that white stuff, yuck.  I really cannot complain due to the great year we have had thus far.  I remember as a kid sometimes putting on a snow suit just to go trick or treating.  I know what all this snow means for my day off, kill it.  Soooo, as I was rather comfy in my sweats I was within minutes of changing into jeans, sweatshirt, wool socks, and most important of all, my carhartt jacket, hat and gloves.  I knew this storm was coming and the night before was out until 10:30 pm firing up my plow truck.  The truck doesn’t run but a handful of times a year.  It takes a little finessing to get the truck ready.  I got the magic hands.
One tire was flat and it was out of gas which wasn’t that bad considering.  Little did I know, at the time, that filling the tire up was no simple task.  After firing the truck up I drove it to the house so I could pump up the flat tire.  With the muffler unhooked I drove carefully down to the house. For as slow as I was going, it sounded like I was racing on the Daytona 500 track at full speed.  I could see the neighbors looking out their windows at me; I just smiled and waved.  What else could I do when it was 10 at night. The tire was quite a challenge.  I had gotten to the house and tried repeatedly to pump this frozen tire up but it wouldn’t take the air.  The seal was comprised due to sitting for such a long time.  I was just about to quit when I realized I would be easier to just jack up the truck, so that what I did.  Now that this tire was full I parked the truck and was ready for the day.
Snow littered the ground in such a way to say, “I am winter let it snow.”  I took the challenge head on but was only about half prepared.  I went out and knew the truck was ready for me.  I gave it a little shot of ether, why it needs it to start I don’t know but it works, and broom broom the truck fired up first turn of the key.  “Thank god,” I thought to myself.  The plowing was a bit chilly due to the two side windows half covered with plastic, my head sticking out the window due to the wipers not working, but one thing proved strong the truck pushing the snow with ease.  I was proud and was doing a great job.  I was like a dog riding in a vehicle without my tongue hanging out.  My eye brows were frozen and the road was just about done.
The truck, with only 3 or 4 gallons in it, ran out of gas.  This was bad timing but was a blessing in disguise. The blessing was that I didn’t have to plow anymore but the bad timing was I ran out right in the middle of a steep hill.  I pumped the peddle hoping it would pick up a splash of gas but it didn’t.  It died out and I was sliding backwards.  Uh oh….. I had the plow up so I dropped it real quick to aid in stopping the truck from sliding backwards.  Oh man here I go.  I hated this feeling of no control.  The brakes were weak but still did nothing to slow my slide.  I finally decided it was now or never.  I cut the wheel and put the truck in the ditch.  By this time I had gained a little speed sliding so when I hit the unforgiving ditch I lunged me forcefully into the seat.
I got out a little shaken up from the slide and little winded from the scare.  Heart racing and truck stuck I didn’t care.  I was done plowing for the day.  I walked away glancing back at the truck as to thank it for its job that it did.  My long driveway was plowed and that’s all that mattered at this point in time.  I had a quarter mile walk home which was going to be a little chilly but other then that the day had gone pretty swell.  I figured I would go out after the storm and yank out the truck so until then the ditch is its resting place.  It could have died in a worse spot such as the middle of the road but it didn’t.  I stumbled through the front door and my wife had hot chocolate for me all ready with those little marshmallows and I knew from here on it was going to be a good day.

The most amazing person I met

I couldn’t have asked to meet a better person,
The man I met not saying on damn cursing,
My words no matter how harsh,
Played no effect like water on a marsh,
I met this man in the man in the grocery store,
He made this place far from a bore,
We got to talking about things,
Even with the interference as his phone rings,
Was it your wife  I told him,
It was these words I think that sold him,
He had it tough I thought,
As his wife called back and they fought,
When he was done,
We left off were we started,
He grabbed a ham bone,
As he lifted it he farted,
This man had no shame in his game,
This man I had not even known his name,
We pushed on to finish this shopping,’
So much I wanted to get home so wine bottles I could be popping,
I invited him back to my place,
He gave me such a look on his face,
I could tell something was going on,
The thought of a drink made him not want to come along,
As I finished up and pushed out my cart,
I pulled out the parking lot of Wal-Mart,
The man was in disarray,
As I got home he was in the drive way,
I looked to see him in the rear view,
Thank god I met this great man, phew.
I found out why we had so much alike,
I found out his name was Mike.
Mike was my name,
This man was me and this was all just a game,
This was the most amazing person I could have met,
The most important person to me I bet.

50 ways to break off a relationship

1.)  It’s you not me.
2.)  It’s me not you.
3.)  It’s the dog.
4.)  It’s the cat.
5.)  I feel stuck.
6.)  I don’t like you.
7.)  You deserve better than me.
8.)  I deserve better than you.
9.)  We are just total opposite.
10.)  We want different things.
11.)  You don’t respect me.
12.)  Are you even happy?
13.)  Because I’m not happy.
14.)  I can just scare her away.
15.)  Act like a jerk.
16.)  Be disrespectful.
17.)  Tell her you cheated on her.
18.)  Be honest  they always want you to be honest….yeah right.
19.)  Don’t go home.
20.)  Put her stuff outside.
21.)  Serve her paper.
22.)  You better get a restraining order if you choose any of these ways out.
23.)  Don’t clean and she will eventually leave.
24.)  Get things she never let you get example a dog.
25.)  Tell her your broke and most of them are out.
26.)  Get fat… but then you hurt yourself.
27.)  Do drugs.
28.)  Go out all the time without her permission.
29.)  Be a mooch.
30.)  Act really needed.
31.)  Be over protective… it always drives them away.
32.)  Cheat on her but that is horrible.
33.)  Leave some fake face book message on your computer.
34.)  Sign up for a dating site such as Zoosk.
35.)  Do you even have to tell her anything?
36.)  Tell her you are not attracted to her anymore.
37.)  You grew apart.
38.)  Talk about her sister or mother.
39.)  Go through her phone and purse and purposely get caught.
40.)  Is telling her she is fat to harsh?
41.)  I’m running out of things to say now it is just do.
42.)  Don’t come home.
43.) Ah hah.. I got the best one.  Text her I am breaking up with you.
44.)  Send her flowers to her work with a card… Sorry honey.
45.)  Take her to a public place and maybe she wont create a scene.
46.)  Send her a E-Card saying you are splitting it off.
47.)  Do tell her anything.
48.)  Flirt with her friends.
49.)  Do something bad enough so maybe she will break up with you.  At least she will feel better about herself.
50.)  Tell her you are gay and finally found yourself.  Just don’t get caught dating someone down the line.  I guess you could always say being gay didn’t work out but you had to try.

Disclaimer:  Do not recreate or you any of these ways to split off a relationship.  I am a professional.  Use safety and care when saying or doing any of these things to break up with a lover.  I am in no way responsible for her or your repercussions.

Sex, drugs, rock n roll, and uh oh....

Talking about sex, drugs, and rock n roll is something I really can appreciate.  Maybe I used the wrong word there due to my abusing of all of them.  How do you abuse sex.  I was raised you could never have to much.  The only thing my father taught me was one I pass up is one I will never get.  That makes me a slut.  Bahumbug.  I’ll take that but I am, however, a guy so how cool can that be being a man  whore.  It was cool when I was 20.  I regret it all but wouldn’t take anything back except the part of going over board.  Ten months ago I called it quits.  I have been sober for ten months to long. I often wonder if that makes me a quitter.  I was taught not to be a quitter.
I am kind of nervous for Thanksgiving.  Not only will their be a party in my mouth, and I am talking about the food you pervert, but their will be many friends and family and the highlight, the football game.  Maybe I will be able to eat more.  Nothing wrong with that except my 100 extra pounds I possess on my bones.  I mean, I’m not fat I am just big boned.  Can that be true?  If so I got some BIG bones.  At this moment I am trying to take my mind off the thought of the Bud Non-Alcoholics I may have to have.
It is really not that bad having a drink.  I think we all have some stories that take us beyond humility.  I was never a person who blacked out, thank god.  The good part about that is I got to watch others black out.  Drinking really has no humor that comes with it but being drunk does.  I have seen everything from people pooping their pants to waking up next to their brother.  What happened beyond that I don’t think I want to know.  That may have played a factor in my sobriety.  No need to call my sponsor I can just call my self and ask, “Do you want anything like that to happen to you?”  Who would.
I look back and think what the hell was I doing when I was eight and putting back a Milwaukee’s Best.  That should have turned me off quicker then a cheetah chasing its tale.  Nothing better then getting blitzed and taken advantage of other and getting in trouble and  hurting innocent bystanders for no other reason but to complete the vicious circle of sex, drugs, and rock n roll.

Week 12 Risky Piece... Maybe too risky...?

I am always in my own head and seem to be stuck.  My mind winds up more then a jack in the box and even seems to jump out at the end.  I just wish there was a song to go with it.  Right now there seem to be nothing but Ghost Adventures in the background and goose bumps bigger then my eighth grade pimples.  I just wish I could pop my goose bumps because at this moment my nipples could cut glass.
I am embraced by my blanket trying to keep warm, this very night, in which the thermometer reads less then my age.  It urkes me that this chill hurts my bones more every year I gain a year.  I keep the heat turned down for my own selfish reason, money.  The more I really think about it though, it may just be to toughen up my wife.  Why would I want to make my wife more manly though?  Maybe because I am awesome and she should be more like me.  I would love to date myself except for the part we lack as a man.  I’m really not that attractive though.  I think I’m more scary then these ghost that just popped out on my Ghost Adventure show.  They have got nothing on me except age.
My wife is a great girl but half the battle in my mind is her.  Family life can be hard and this rare night of me just sitting here all alone, a boob tube for noise and the occasional glance at the screen, and the chance to do some homework.  The last two or three weeks I seemed to fall off.  It has been so crazy.  One little change in our schedule can seem to change the whole space time contagion.  To top off my wife’s schedule change, my son got strep throat.  When it rains it pours.  Why couldn’t it pour something besides problems.  Money would be good but what is new, I think we all ask for that.  It’s like the 3 wishes that someone gets but one of them you would ask for infinity wishes.  Come on now.
With my son sleeping and my wife leaving me completely alone…..weird…I can hear the freshly cleaned fish tank babbling.  It sound so much better then my kids and wife babbling.  It is a hell of a job caring for our salt water fish tank.  I haven’t bothered cleaning it for months.  We only have one fish left so I had a, “What’s the point attitude.”  Don’t tell ASPCA.  Poor fishy.  Nemo got me back though.  As I reached deep in the tank to get the scum off the live rocks, I was attacked by a one inch Jaws.  It hurt like a son of a gun surprisingly.  I mean, this fish, didn’t just nibble like when you dip your toes off the dock in a school of sunfish, he was like a dog playing tug of war.  He bit and shook.  What the hell is that?  He is a clown fish not a dog fish.  I guess I got what I deserved.  
I finally got a little company in my 2 hours of alone time.  It is a human though. Phew…  My cat Clyde.  People think I’m crazy but this cat is no ordinary cat, so I think.  I talk to him like he is human.  Have I lost it?  “Who are you talking to?” my son or wife will ask.  I am alone with my son and SpongeBob.  That can really wear on a man.  I never wanted to grow up and be some old stick in the mud but I didn’t plan on walking around quoting SpongeBob.  Maybe I just need a hobby!  Yeah…..A hobby is what I need…..

week 11 writing

A new job.  A new boss.  I tried to enlighten myself with the appearance of this run down work truck. New signs on the side saying Springbrook Management.  Do looks matter?  Obviously not to the customers. There was no rust but it was more less the thick slew of dirt the over took the paint.  On the back was written, “wash me.”  Someone knew the truck needed aid.  I peaked through the window waiting for my charriotte door to open.  The lock made that sound telling me it was okay to enter.  I didn’t know if I should trust this side step.  Would it hold the weight it was about to have to bare?  I wasn’t about to take that chance.  It was a long way up and my short legs struggle to get into the cab of the truck.  The interior was dark gray. It didn’t hide the stains well.  The dust was thick.   It had the appearance of a light brown dash rug.  Sharpies played a large role in the character of this truck.  Someone must own no paper due to the close to fifty numbers writing through out the cab of the truck.  It was like the yellow pages puked in the truck.  Yet with all this dirt lied a green pine tree scent.  What was the purpose it couldn’t help the wreaking of a hard days work that filled the truck. This truck had all the bells and whistles of what a man should she be familiarized with.  As the motor purred and we set off…. I knew I was in for a good hard day of work with little play. Other then a slight vibration and the humming of the off road tires this truck was beautiful.. This told me to not judge a book by its cover.

week 11 uncle henrys

Free for the taking:

Tearing down a house.  Everything must go.

Oh my the horror which goes beyond.  Beyond time, space and everything holy and unholy.   Seems to be no rhym or reason for tearing a place down.  The things that could lay upon this building.  How big was it.  Was there siding or windows?  The ad left me in suspense.  I hate not knowing the details.  I go with the flow but also have a plan.  There was no plan except it all must go. I didn’t know what to make of it.  The people did have one thought in mind and it was to not waste.  Money must of not have been an issue for it was all free.  Nothing seems to be free. It will cost you something whether it is money or not.  It will cost you time if not anything else. This ad reaffirms the saying what goes up must come down because it was coming down no matter.  Something had to be erected from rubble that was to soon be.  This was some kind of starting over.  Sometimes it’s better to start fresh and rid the rest.  New is not always better and I fear they don’t know that.  The history would be lost of the old building.  People had memories in this house which lined the building on the inside and out..  Any chip, scrap, dent or stain could tell a history of someone else’s past time.  We all have seen the movies which they travel to their place where they grew up.  Most of the time it is run down or a pile of rubble.  Which is sad to have crushed decades of someone’s Values.  They may have learn everything from crawling to calculus.  They learned how to be a person, hopefully learned morals… respect… politeness and other vital teachings.  The ad was a good thing.  It gave these belongings the chance to grow new memories in someone else’s house, camp, or garage.  Waste makes haste.  Another mans trash is another mans treasure and this is what this ad represented.  It was to rob from Knottingham and give to the needy.   The man or woman to have done this ad was a strangers robin hood.  It feels good to give and maybe that was the reason for the ad… Either way this ad was fortified the kindness that was to  come out of this short ad.

Week 11 My tool

One tool is the tool that everyone needs but really take for granted.  This tool is with us all the time and really makes or breaks a person life or all living creature.  The tool is the air we breathe.  A sigh…. A breathe of fresh dewy air…… a sneeze, cough or yawn….  Life…. They all need oxygen.  It is a tool which we physically use on a daily basis but yet we take for granted this necessity.  It is beautiful.  The beauty it create is everything around us and can be especially shown in trees.  The trees flourish with great green leaves sucking up the toxic air we all do not want to breathe to produce more loving air for us.  The beauty is me and you.  The beauty is our children.  All us parents can remember their child.  First thing they do besides cry is to take that first deep breathe of that wonderful O2.…  Could you imagine a child without it.  Anything without this passes.  A whale under water must always come up for that a tool which will be used for his life.
As I look across the leafless terrain I know without breathing the air is chilled.  The tool is still doing its job but no tool works all the time.  When my grandfather became ill, his tool for life was his green bottle of oxygen.  The bottle being green was significant to me for it wreaked of life.  It spawned his future for a little longer and that was the greatest tool that anyone could wish for.  it’s the little things in life that we all take for granted.  Mother Earth is like a swiss army knife it has a tool for everything.  Some are always more important then others and can be used for multiple things.  That was obvious as this air I breathed blew my hair around.  It made me cold.  It made sounds as to come alive. It enabled the birds to fly around in front of the house.  It allowed them to tweet and the sugar to be sweet.
I then began to use my tool in an extraordinary way.  I lit a fire.  Earth as my garage to keep my tool safe had just what I wanted again.  I was able to cook….. Stay warm…. And the thing my son loved….. Toasting marshmallow.

week 11 sidewalk

Passing another block.  I look cautiously around in order not to slip in between the cracks.  I can feel the tension of the tar.  Everyone crevice tells a story and as I walk over each one I am creating another story that this side walk can tell.  Grass trickles up through some of these splits which explains the lack of cigarette butts. The indifference of each one tells me the situation of the person who discarded this filter.  We all need some kind of filter for life and a filter for the little piles of spit.  Light and white and thick and brown.  All textures of phlegm.  You can tell the dry mouths from the smokers to the sicken people. I try to dodge these germs that send fear through my sneakers as I made my way to the Tia restaurant in downtown Bangor.  I try to read the creases as I would a palm of a hand to see its future.  I started receiving what was to become of this well traveled path in life when the darkened asphalt turns into a checkered pattern of small blocks.  Red is the color of anger and that was no coincidence.  The bottoms of my “souls” have become tattered with the sidewalk virus.  The bricks must have been a time consumption for whom ever laid these down, block after block.  Rectangles flowed  in a pattern which represented a weaved stitching on mother Earth.  These blocks where flush and abutted the prior tar walk way which was my trail at this time.  The trail may have crosswalk which lay within them but the path never stops.  Every road may have bumps within but it gets you where you are going.  I was now there just in the nick of time.  I step through the restaurant door as a cold rain showered the over dry walkway.  The rain enlightens the color and brought out the beauty I never saw before.  The moment was perfect and I wish it was the sidewalk that wasn’t cracked and it was the hands of time.  This moment could last forever.

Where they begin they will be back

I grew up in a small town. Dedham, Maine exactly.  We all are so close.  Family and friends literally next door.  Their parents and their parents parent’s are all still living here. Everyone always has dreams of leaving some where different then this small ignorant town.  We call them Pipe Dreams.  This town is littered with pot heads.  They all have these big dreams to do big things and nothing ever changes.  Even their grass is long.  That shows their simpleness.  Their laziness.
Every year or every other year someone that talks about leaving does.  They plan on never coming back.  I know they will be home though.  We actually bet on when they will return.  Or who they will call when they run out of money from partying or wearing their welcome out.  Typically the place they go is Florida.  Big surprise.  Everyone dreams about going there.  No one ever takes off for more then 6 months.
I have my money on 5 months.  Cousin after cousin and friend after friend.  Move and come back.  They come back with horror stories.  These people are not regular people. They are drug addict losers.  I hate to call them friend.  They are more like people I grew up with.  I have no choice to like them.  I Am stuck with them.  Neighbors and family members.  Here there and every where.  Some time they will get so fucked up they will just start driving down.  Sometimes little or no money in their pockets.  They wonder why it never last.
It doesn’t really matter where they begin from.  They will be back.  I’m sure it happens in other towns and not just my town.  We all have big dreams of getting out of this cold whether.  Florida is beautiful.  Beautiful beaches, water, weather, and of course women.  What’s not to love about the thought of living there.  Especially compared to here.  I have the same dream.  I Haven’t followed through with mine.  Am I scared to?  That is maybe a little of it. Most of it is my wife. She has no want to move there. Opinions are like assholes we all have one.

Just a dream

Dreams can be such a interesting time in a person life.  They can take you any where in the world.  Places that don’t even exist.  In dreams they do.  They can mean different things.  They can be perceived in many ways.  They give you something to do while you sleep.  It gives people a chance to go on that vacation they cannot afford.  We do sleep a third of your life so I suppose you need to make the best of it.
Certain dreams I like more then others.  I have one dream that I have all of the time.  It is scary.  Most of the time it happens when I sleep on the couch.  I don’t know if that has anything to do with it.  The couch to me is the comfiest place in the world.  My legs kicked up.  Head buried in my chest.  Blanket is on my but not covering me.  And of course the cats beside my head.  Perfect set up for that dream I regularly have upon the couch.
In this dream I am against my will climbing stairs of this unknown building.  Stair cases in sky scrapers are so unsettling.  Quite.  Echoing. Concrete and steel.  Thirty floors up they are the same every floor. You are trapped.  No getting out.  In this particular dream the stair case has no windows but they are switched up once and awhile and windows are added.  No one ever takes the stairs.  So when you see someone it makes it that much worse.
I always look at the stairs and they always have cracks all over them.  How are they holding you up.  I just don’t get it.  Big cracks all over.  Every stair you step on it makes that echoing thud sound.  It sound fragile as well as it looks.  Next thing I know I am falling and there are no stairs.  I am falling and falling. Then to scare the snot out of you. I wake up from the dream of falling.  And I really am falling off the couch. It must be just the couch.  I know this though.  It is scary.
        I wonder what a dream like that means.  To me if I was going to guess.  Would be losing control of a situation.  A falling sensation.  I know really it is just me literally about to fall. Then falling.  It is like my mind is setting me up for a fall.

A pin pricks my skin....

I know it is coming.  Closer and closer the doctor comes to my arm.  The rubber band wound tight around my bicep.  I brace for the impact of the sharp tip piercing into my vein.  I have plenty of time to think.  Life has almost come to a halt with my emotions still flowing.  I talk to myself telling myself it is not going to hurt.  Come on though it is something poking into my flesh.  How is this not going to hurt.  Am I syking myself out?  Either way this is about to happen.
I try to focus on the same old picture on the doctors wall. The picture is of a landscape.  It is so pretty and I wish I was there now.  The sun setting on a lake.  A loon gliding through the water.  A few small ripples behind the loon as to show it swimming.  I looked at the next picture.  A man was just sitting in a landscaping.   This one, however, was of a babbling brook.  Both have water in them.  Is there a reason for that or is it just a coincidence.  Have you ever notices similarities of every doctors office.  Simple office style rooms.  Landscape pictures on the walls. That smell of clean but not a pretty smell.
I feel the elastic release from my arm.  “All done.” The doctor says.  I never felt the shot at all.  Had it really just happened.  It must have because I have a new tweedy bird band aid.  Is that what the pictures were for? Either way they allowed me to take my mind off the shimmering needle that just attacked my arm.  Something so small can be so scary.  It is probably just the thought of it.

Weekly writting

Winter makes the Earth such a wonder land.  We all know how the snow coats the ground and hangs upon the trees.  It is so beautiful.  That glistening when the sun pokes its head way up in the sky down upon the trees.  It looks so much warmer outside when the sun is shining in a mid winters day.  I think it is the fact the sunlight reflects of the crystalline snow flakes that are laid one on top another.  I gaze out the big rectangular window into the front yard to see what kind of day me and my boy are going to have for sliding.  It looks to be a great day this.
Me and my son ready ourselves for a few hours of high speed sledding in the front yard.  The yard is quite a slope.  We sled right in the middle of the drive way.  Hopefully I have no unexpected guest.  We are booted and suited, as we say, and step out into the sun lit frigid air.  I slip on the icy steps, which I fail to salt and sand, every storm.  The sled pokes out of a pile of snow and my son barrel asses over towards it.  Being three feet tall and having two feet of snow, I still wonder how he got to that sled.  Either way, we were ready to cruise.
I tried to shake some of the snow and ice off of the bright orange sled.  Dropping the sled to the ground just in front of my feet I wonder how my fat ass along with my son is going to fit into this foot wide sled.  I plopped down and sat on the sled with my jeans the only thing blocking the snow from my skin.  I have always hated wearing snow pants but I still suit my son from head to toe in all types of winter gear.  He looks so cute all puffy standing to the edge of the sled.  I waived him in now that I was all situated.  He kind of just fell on me due to the restriction of the snow suit.
I picked my line down the drive way and as I started to get us going, my son states that he wants to crash into the snow pile at the bottom of the hill.  We always try to get up over but never can.  We usually get around three quarters of the way up and then do backwards somersaults down the pile.  This time was the time we were going to make it over. This time was different.  A cold snowy dust was coating our faces from the speed of our sled humming down the drive way.   I tried like heck to keep us stable in order to not crash before we made it down to the pile at the bottom.
Poof, we hit the pile like a ton of bricks. I flew up on to my son and plowed him against what we didn’t know was a frozen snow bank.  This is what I didn’t want to happen.  As my body came to a halt after being thrashed around I checked to see if my boy was alright.  He was laughing uncontrollably.  “Let’s do it again.” He chants as he wipes the snow from his face.  That one ride may have been it for me.  I really had gotten pummeled against the snow bank.  My body had gotten bent in way I didn’t know it could be.  However, I got up and chuckled, grabbed the rope on the sled, and gritted my teeth for the next few rides we were about to have, down the drive way.