The Rove Head - PART DEAUX

 

   The Rove head opens his mouth to speak. Suddenly he is interrupted by a stranger bursting through the door. A cretinous man, vulgar, odiferous and staggering about, ambulating with the shambling gait of a gorilla makes his way into the room. He tries to speak, but instead belches loudly, releasing a little vomit from the corner of his mouth. 

"I yam Gorrg Busshhh," his speech is muttered and unintelligible but he continues, "I yam Goooorgg Bushish." 

"Yo, home, you drunk or sumtin'?" Lil inquires. 

    The hideous man shakes his head wildly as to indicate no, his fifthly dreadlocks flap from side to side, dandruff falling about. 

"Noooo, I yam Gorge Bus!!!" 

    Jenna hides behind her scantily attired Secretary of State. 

"Brittany, do something!"

    Brittany's eyes are open wide, she is holding her nose to fend off the stench. 

"Uh, isn't that your job Romeo? Secretary of Defense, defend us!" 

Romeo looks toward The Rove Head, "Great Rovie, what the s*%t do we do now?" 

    The face of the mighty Rover head is now grimaced and it is clear the great one is annoyed. Again the ground trembles. 

"Approach, foul stranger! Come before the great Karl Rove!" 

The odd man titubates forward. Again he says only "I am Gooorg Bushes". 

"What blasphemy you speak, there is no way one of your ilk would be someone as great as George Bush!" The Rove Head's jar is starting to shake with anger. 

"I am Gooorg Bush!" 

    The stranger is adamant about his existence, in his frustration he flails his arms about like a lunatic and knocks the The Rove Head to the floor. The jar shatters, shards of glass get caught in Secretary Spears' hair. 

"Oh gross, get it out!", Brittany cries. 

The Rove head begins to turn a shade of white, slightly more pale than before. It mutters, "Put me in a jar of vodka now!" 

    Lil, already sensing the danger, has darted out of the room and to the bar. 

"Dayum, yo! I don't need this shit!" 

    He fumbles through several half empty bottles and grabs the Grey Goose vodka. He hears a muffled cry from in the cabinet. 

"Hey buddy, maybe I can help." 

"Who said that?" Lil is a bit surprised and thinks the buzz from his early morning smoke is beginning to fade. 

"It's me, you bluderbuss, behind the Chivas, Old Rummy!" 

"Yo! Don! How'd you get in here?" 

"I've been here for years," Old Rummy says. "Jenna shoved me in the liquor cabinet during a really bad bender years ago and forgot about me." 

    Without flinching, Lil grabs Old Rummy and the Grey Goose; then heads back to situation room. In the situation room, the odd stranger more adamant than before states his case. 

"I-I-I-I yam Gurge Bus..." He belches again. 

Jenna, getting frustrated, slaps the stranger in the face. "Stop, like, pretending to be my family, you gross idiot!" 

    With just enough composure to be respectful the drunken man does not strike back, but pulls a photo out of his ragged breast pocket and hands it to Jenna, his hand shaking as he bows slightly in reverence to the. Brittany snatches the photo from his filthy hands. 

"Oh mah God! Miss President, look at this..." 

    They look at each other in utter dismay and shock. 

Lil bursts through the door. "Yo! Look what I found." He brandishes the Old Rummy bottle. 

"Secretary Romeo, this is not time for a daquiri! Besides, I don't have a blender!" Jenna cries. 

"No, Miss Prez, it's Donald Rumsfeld! In his bottle!" 

"Oh wow! There you are Old Rummy, I've been wondering what happened to you!" Jenna grabs the Old Rummy bottle and places it on the altar. 

"Quick," Old Rummy yells, "Get Karl back in the bottle of vodka before he is evaporates." 

"I am George Bushie!" The stranger yells and flails his arms again. 

"Shut that biyatch up!" Lil demands as he grabs the Rove Head and forces it into the bottle of vodka.

 "Put me back on the altar!" The Rove head screamed. 

    The Rove head is clearly perplexed and annoyed at the current events transpiring in the situation room. 

"How have you been, Old Rummy?" The Rove head, now back in place asks his contemporary. 

"Well, Karl, they put me in the liquor cabinet, I've been there for years." Old Rummy whines. 

"I know, Don, this is a difficult group to manage," The Rove head says then turns his attention to Brittany and Jenna as they look at the photo. 

"Bring the photo to me, and the stranger!" The Rove head demands.

    Jenna reluctantly shows the photo to the Rove Head and Old Rummy as Lil drags the stranger to the altar. 

"Its just as I feared," said the Rove Head, "it's George with Condi Rice. I heard him tell me once that they had relations." 

Old Rummy held back his urge to vomit. "Are you sure, maybe this is a fake." 

"No, old friend," said the Rove head. "I am afraid it's true. Just look at this vulgar picture. They are in bed together, what else could that mean?" 

"Like, maybe they were having a slumber party," Jenna proffers. 

"Silence, Jenna!" The Rove Head booms. "Take a stranger to the Cheney (formerly Lincoln) bedroom. Get him cleaned up and sober then bring him back to me. Now all of you go, and give Old Rummy and I a chance to catch up." 

"Yes, great Rove Head!" Lil offers as he grabs the now stunned Brittany and Jenna by the arms. "Let's go ladies, and you too drunken ho!"

Training Wheels

 A current observation:

I am sitting on my patio, reading a book, smoking a cigar, and listening to music. Soon a man comes by walking astride his son of maybe five years who is on a bicycle. The father is holding the back seat of the bicycle and encouraging the young man along. 

I immediately flashed back to that moment when I finally shed the training wheels of my bicycle. My father was holding the back seat and trotting beside me at a quickened pace while I pedaled in a constant, but measured tempo. 

Throughout this journey he kept encouraging me to go faster and that it would be okay. I finally dared to move faster, and faster, and faster still. Fear kicked in and I asked Dad to slow down. "Dad!" I called out but got no answer. "Dad! Dad!" Still no answer. 

I finally looked behind me, and he'd let go of the seat and I was flying solo. I can still see the smile on his face. Seconds after, when I realized he wasn't there I stumbled and fell to the ground. He ran up to me and we laughed for what seemed forever. It was the first moment I remember overcoming the fear of failure. I would finally be rid of the training wheels forever. 

RIP Vincent

Actions vs Words

There is a very old saying, "actions speak louder than words". Many of us oft hear this quote when we are young. Parents, teachers, preachers, et al repeat this ad infinitum. Lately, this saying has been truer than ever before in my life. My good friend Anthony used to tell me "People treat you the way you train them to". His wisdom of words I held to heart, and it has helped guide me through some tougher times in life. I don't know if I ever thanked him for this, but I hope I have. I digress. The past two months have been filled with change. After four years my relationship with my partner has ended; I've taken up the purchase of a condominium (my first homeownership experience); I've received great accolades at work; and I've begun to better understand the actions vs words axiom. To best illustrate, I'll simply break down a few recent events and indicate where both actions and words are important. Purchasing my first residence:

• Words: Over the past ten years I've simply told myself that I could not make this happen due to the specter of my credit score and past mistakes. I would tell my friends the same thing, along with other excuses. I never even tried to make it work.
• Actions: In late November, I met someone that would be a catalyst for much change in my life. This 20-something has accomplished much in his life, mostly due to action, and this made me make an assessment of my own life, that had been filled with in-action. He did nothing proactively but getting to know him stimulated an age old feeling I've had that my life has been a series of wasted talent. So it was time to take action. I came home, filled out an on-line application and now, December 27th, about 1 month later, I'm settling on a condo.

Friendship: 7/27/2022 - unfinished

Much Ado About... Well Everything!

Greetings my friends! Please forgive me as it has been quite some time since my last posting. This posting will appear rather random and casual as I am currently enjoying a lovely bottle of wine and the chill of a lovely autumn evening. I'm going to start with today. Today was one of those lovely autumn days where a sky of gossamer clouds against a cerulean sky competed jealously for my attention with the leaves in their lovely shades of crimson, amber, and gold. The trees have begun their transmogrification that occurs once yearly during this wonderful season. This to me, was a fitting time to put parentheses around the past few years as they have unfolded.

So Much, So Fast

I have been trying to find the correct words to properly express the events of the last six months. Honestly, they have been a phantasmagoria, leaving me in a state of torpor from which I felt no escape.

March was perhaps the worst of times as my mother, after a well-concealed relapse of cancer, died suddenly one Sunday evening. I'm not yet prepared to entertain the details of her last days, as I'm not just beginning my own grieving process, but I can say that she had her family and friends close by and passed in a dignified manner befitting of my mother.

Soon thereafter, due in part to some rather clever planning on my mother's part, I was able to have a great housewarming. I had about thirty friends in attendance, and it was an overall success. I wish again to thank all who were in attendance! Mostly, I really need to tip my hat to my friends that helped me make my new domicile liveable. Your dedication enabled the vivification of my spirits so soon after the passing of my mother.

Mea Culpa

I have been spending much of my supine time taking stock of myself. In the past ten months I experience three of life's most stressful events: the break-up of my relationship of four years; moving to a new residence; and the passing of a loved one.

What am I doing here?

This is an attempt to share some views and opinions, and some general musings, on the state of affairs in general. By state of affairs in general, I refer to current events, past events and even my own viewpoints on the aforementioned. I invite all comments and critique (including editorial comments (-: I hope you find your visit here more a pleasure than a chore and enjoy your time. Please note: Often postings will be related to local affairs (Baltimore, MD and Washtingon, DC)

I'm as Mad as Hell, and I'm not Going to Take it Anymore! An Introduction to Series

The experiences of life, and a profound proclivity toward observation, has led me down a road that has been filled with astounding revelations of the nature of humanity. This is a crude attempt at an introduction to what I'll begin to detail in this series. Eventually I'll take the time to put links for reference to reading and other information materials. I don't expect many to initially have interest, but the deeper you go down this proverbial rabbit hole the more you will want to know. I look forward to civil discussion on any factual material I present, or material that I proffer as my own conclusion. I am concerned for the welfare of my billions of brothers and sisters that inhabit this rock hurling through space and time. We are at a nexus of ideologies, and it's time for us to break free. I digress.

Woe unto us! We, the people of the world, should have arrived at the self-evident conclusion that our leaders are the lesser among us. These people are not just those elected, but those self appointed. The celebrities, the billionaire class, the self identified gurus, intellectuals and assortment of other fools and mountebanks that fill our news streams daily. (By news streams I mean any method or source by which we receive information.)

Throughout history we have been kept in bondage, conflict and strife over the "isms". Communism, Socialism, racism, fascism, capitalism. It appears most words ending in ism are used to divide or rule. The isms have been foisted upon us through religion, war, greed, demagoguery, and our own unwillingness to accept that we are human beings and have natural rights. These rights belong to no church, no government, no landlord, no mortgage holder, no celebrity. These rights are inherent at birth.

Stop trying to look and act like people your claim to admire. What have any so called reality television personalities done for you? What has the President or any elected official done for you? Why do you feel the need to fit a body type, or clothing style to assimilate? Look in the mirror, that face you wake to every day is the only one that is deserving of your unwavering admiration. Others should earn your admiration through real actions to better humanity. Stop trying to emulate morons. Think about it, it's mass madness you maniacs! Question everything!!!

Everywhere you look today your are being told you aren't happy enough (by big Pharma), you aren't attractive enough (by the fashion industry and their narcissistic allies), you don't fit in (by the overall consumer culture that keeps us in debt slavery until death), you aren't educated enough to work (by a collusion between banks, government and higher education to keep you indebted until death for a useless piece of paper). STOP! This isn't you! This is a you that was created by a ideology that started long before you were born and is so ingrained in us that we accept it as reality. This is the straw man that was created to be you, but it's not. You are individual, you are legion, in self you find peace and courage.

Part of the problem can be found in how we educate the young. We have one of the saddest systems of education. (Read "The Deliberate Dumbing Down of America" by Charlotte Thomson Iserbyt, or just look for her on YouTube). These institutions no longer educate, they teach young people how to be compliant and obedient. They teach us how to accept without question. They train us to be slaves to to a complete absence of reason. We are being bred to be mindless consumers of garbage. Ask yourself why can't people spell or phonetically pronounce words. When did being culturally sensitive equate stooping to a lowest common denominator. If for a moment I could believe this was to allow the disadvantaged a stake in society I would be silent. It is however, the opposite. The best way to spot a fool is to allow him to act on his own accord.

Think about this, when I worked in a hotel many years back, the managers were being trained to speak Spanish, Vietnamese and a few other languages spoken by the back-of-house employees (dish washers, housekeepers, etc). This hotel never offered the antithesis to the workers. They would not be provided English lessons so that they could speak equally with their management. In microcosm this demonstrates how those that rule maintain authority by not allowing the working class the opportunity for education.

As individuals and as a community we can break down these hard edified ideologies that have enslaved generations of humanity. I can't say how right now, but first, in the words of Howard Beale in the movie Network said, "First you have to get mad..."

Peace and enlightenment to all.

Some Facebook Musings

Please enjoy a few of my posting from Facebook.

What is Facebook?

I have been asking myself a question lately about Facebook and other on-line "networking" websites. What is their purpose? Perhaps they were a method of meeting new people that share similar interest, hobbies, etc. Maybe they are designed to reconnect with long lost friends or relatives. At first it seemed that way. However, I have found that more often than not, these sites simply are another way with which we actually distance ourselves from the act of true companionship. That is to say, actually spending time enjoy the company of one another. We post pictures of our travels, parties, events, et cetera to share with our friends and "friends". We post comments about how we feel or what we are doing at a particular point in time. We engage in witty repartee via wall posting and subsequent comments. However, we never actually talk. That is to say verbally or personally communicate with one another. We seem to be missing the true purpose of "networking".

I am comfortable saying that I have several true friends with whom I have communicated regularly. However, since the dawn of electronic communication, our personal interactions have been lacking. In our attempt to feel connected, I find that we are often more distant, more isolated than before. Our society has invested in amazing mass communication technology, but we have fallen short of coupling that with the humanity that lies within true knowledge of another.

I do not wish to sound like one of those people that pine for the "good ol' days". Progress is inevitable and should be welcomed as it provides us with tools that make our lives easier and more convenient. What I am suggesting is that we spend more time out in the world and less time sitting and staring at an illuminated screen to determine what our friends our doing or feeling.

A dear friend of mine often chastises me for not phoning him more often. Mea Culpa! He is correct. I have grown victim to opting for email or text messages to stay in touch. However, nothing says more to your friend than to hear your voice. I also have a friend who still writes letters, by hand if you can believe that, and mails them to me. No, he doesn't scan and email them, he actually puts a postage stamp on them and places them in the mail. I always feel great when I see a letter from him in my mailbox and have saved every one of them.

I know it seems difficult in our alleged busy lives to take the time to really connect. I am guilty of this same condition. However, ask yourself (if you are over 35 anyway), what you did before all of this communication technology existed. Were you less busy then? Probably not. When you wanted to go out to dinner with a friend you actually had to pick up a phone and call them. Was it that difficult?

So let's pull ourselves out of the house, away from the desk, and not take our "busy-ness" so seriously. Be human.

In Defense of Solitude - (edited and updated 1/7/2024)

I am sitting on my patio and enjoying choral masterpieces, a fine red wine, and a great cigar. The chill that is normally present in the October evening is replaced by a pleasant breeze. The cacophony of the crickets jealously competes with my music.  A delicate breeze blows an autumn harvest of leaves around my feet, and they twirl and dance in the natural choreography. It is as if the universe is smiling upon me.

Why then do I feel such torpor, such solitude, such melancholy? I know not. The affairs of time have cast a benevolent light upon me. However, the same aforementioned wind blows through the holes in my heart and whispers a song that is sad, yet somehow satisfying.

I have, like most, toiled in love's cruel game of presentation and redaction. This has left me somewhat hollow of heart. Many present themselves as wishing to chain your soul with kind words and dear promises only to turnabout upon them in nary a fortnight. Though I have fallen prey to this throughout my existence I refuse to disallow myself to feel love again, even if so temporal.

Love, in its nature, is ethereal and fleeting. The only sure way to have constancy in love is to direct it inward. That's not to deny others the gift of your affection but to place paramount the love of self.

Very often we confuse amorous feelings with love, but amor is desire and wanting. True love is neither desirous nor greedy. True love is unconditional. However, it is human nature to place conditions on our affairs with others. If we give love, we wish for it in return. This is therefore desiring and wanting the affection of another. When this desired reciprocity misses the mark, we call it unrequited. Yet truly we alone miss the point when we expect such equitable results.

When two people, whether intimate partners, friends, or family give love without wanting the bounty is overwhelming. We can go about our existence knowing our disposition of love is genuine. This is why the unconditional love of self reigns in its importance. This is why solitude isn't to be judged but welcomed. It is that respite that allows us to focus on the inevitability of life with open minds and hearts.

It is why I can sit on my patio and enjoy the solitary enjoyment of my own company and think, with genuine sentiment, of those who touch my life in ways that are inexplicable yet blissful. It is why I sit here thinking of you.

Who Are We, and What Do We Want? - (Edited and updated 1/7/2024)

Everyone wants something, and I'm no exception. This missive is not about me whining about anything. Nor is it about the jackals and fools that have occupied much of my space and time during this past year; nor about missed opportunities due to action or inaction; nor about external or internal circumstances that have led me to this juncture. No, this is about the truth of human behavior.

A wise friend once told me, "You only have yourself to blame for where you are". I was unwilling to take this as constructive commentary at that time, and instead internalized and personalized the comment as a personal affront. That was several years ago and circumstances are vastly different. He was correct, and I can "blame" all my successes and failures on the premise that it is all about my choices and courses of action/inaction.

We have ourselves to thank for where we are in life. Every decision we make is split. The etymology of the word "decision" will demonstrate the clarity of its very definition and applicability herein.

I am as guilty as all when I lament past decisions and the direction in which they've guided me. This is human nature. Most people never graduate from their adolescent ideals of what is "right" or "wrong". There is no right or wrong, only the decision made and its consequence. Grow up and deal with how unsatisfying life can be at times but take appropriate responsibility. Be realistic and understand that no matter the intentions or actions of someone else, you only have yourself to hold as the responsible party. This is not to say that good wishes or someone's prayer or thoughts can't be accepted, but they do nothing but offer temporary solace. Action requires effort. Passive effort is balderdash and essentially meaningless. When someone offers "comfort from their couch", graciously nod and maybe smile, but take it for what it is.

When you offer help to someone, make sure it's something of use. A hug is nice, but only emotionally useful until the embrace ends. If you want to help a hungry person, give them food. If you care, in any capacity, do something viable. Let's be honest, it's human to act out of wants and needs. You don't go to the grocer and expect to have surgery, as you wouldn't go to the surgeon and ask for a loaf of bread. We are what we bring to the proverbial table.

If you want to learn how to build a bridge, learn architecture, engineering, and construction. It doesn't mean you'll ever actually build one, but again that's up to the individual. I spend hours reading and learning new skills or simply knowledge almost every day. Knowledge is a good beginning step, but only useful when applied to skill and utilized through productive action. This will usually require sincere dedication and years of effort.

Good examples are my friends and colleagues who engage in artistic endeavors. These are performers, actors, singers, and other such talent. I cannot say that all of them are particularly proficient in their chosen artistic endeavor, but they have managed to create a positive situation out of the skill of self-promotion and have turned their ability and artistic talents into a viable "resource" that people consume. I commend this as they have acted based on a vision that was self-motivated. I've also noticed that they, intentionally or not, surround themselves with people who offer something toward their success, and tolerate little else (save for the few that are ego motivated who enjoy the glory as much, if not more than, the financial benefits). I don't deny the entertainer their share of ego-based indulgence, as this is something that allows them to be more creative in future performances and continue to please the audience. To wit, the performer's "job" is to please the audience. Each successful performance will lead to the next.

I have used performers as an example due to my close work with many, as a talent agent, since 2008. This example can be applied to any job or function. First responders are constantly training to improve their awareness and effectiveness. Doctors, lawyers, and other professionals undergo continuing education as a means of development and often to maintain their professional license or certification to operate within their profession.

The best salesmen are the ones who close the deal plain and simple. Certainly, there are skills and talents required to sell, such as being attentive to your client’s needs and/or desires, but the salesman knows the only thing that matters for success in their profession is turning potential into action – the close.

You need to bring what people want or need, and if you cannot or haven't yet adopted a skill, then acquiesce, and learn a way to make yourself useful. Always find the best fit between what you offer and what the recipient wants. Otherwise, you spend most of your time being unsatisfied and frustrating others.

My best, albeit late, wishes for a prosperous and productive new year. I don't put parentheses around annual periods any longer, but that's my choice and what benefits me.

Everyone wants something, and I'm no exception. This missive is not about me whining about anything. Nor is it about the jackals and fools that have occupied much of my space and time during this past year; nor about missed opportunities due to action or inaction; nor about external or internal circumstances that have led me to this juncture. No, this is about the truth of human behavior.

A wise friend once told me, "You only have yourself to blame for where you are". I was unwilling to take this as constructive commentary at that time, and instead internalized and personalized the comment as a personal affront. That was several years ago and circumstances are vastly different. He was correct, and I can "blame" all my successes and failures on the premise that it is all about my choices and courses of action/inaction.

We have ourselves to thank for where we are in life. Every decision we make is split. The etymology of the word "decision" will demonstrate the clarity of its very definition and applicability herein.

I am as guilty as all when I lament past decisions and the direction in which they've guided me. This is human nature. Most people never graduate from their adolescent ideals of what is "right" or "wrong". There is no right or wrong, only the decision made and its consequence. Grow up and deal with how unsatisfying life can be at times but take appropriate responsibility. Be realistic and understand that no matter the intentions or actions of someone else, you only have yourself to hold as the responsible party. This is not to say that good wishes or someone's prayer or thoughts can't be accepted, but they do nothing but offer temporary solace. Action requires effort. Passive effort is balderdash and essentially meaningless. When someone offers "comfort from their couch", graciously nod and maybe smile, but take it for what it is.

When you offer help to someone, make sure it's something of use. A hug is nice, but only emotionally useful until the embrace ends. If you want to help a hungry person, give them food. If you care, in any capacity, do something viable. Let's be honest, it's human to act out of wants and needs. You don't go to the grocer and expect to have surgery, as you wouldn't go to the surgeon and ask for a loaf of bread. We are what we bring to the proverbial table.

If you want to learn how to build a bridge, learn architecture, engineering, and construction. It doesn't mean you'll ever actually build one, but again that's up to the individual. I spend hours reading and learning new skills or simply knowledge almost every day. Knowledge is a good beginning step, but only useful when applied to skill and utilized through productive action. This will usually require sincere dedication and years of effort.

Good examples are my friends and colleagues who engage in artistic endeavors. These are performers, actors, singers, and other such talent. I cannot say that all of them are particularly proficient in their chosen artistic endeavor, but they have managed to create a positive situation out of the skill of self-promotion and have turned their ability and artistic talents into a viable "resource" that people consume. I commend this as they have acted based on a vision that was self-motivated. I've also noticed that they, intentionally or not, surround themselves with people who offer something toward their success, and tolerate little else (save for the few that are ego motivated who enjoy the glory as much, if not more than, the financial benefits). I don't deny the entertainer their share of ego-based indulgence, as this is something that allows them to be more creative in future performances and continue to please the audience. To wit, the performer's "job" is to please the audience. Each successful performance will lead to the next.

I have used performers as an example due to my close work with many, as a talent agent, since 2008. This example can be applied to any job or function. First responders are constantly training to improve their awareness and effectiveness. Doctors, lawyers, and other professionals undergo continuing education as a means of development and often to maintain their professional license or certification to operate within their profession.

The best salesmen are the ones who close the deal plain and simple. Certainly, there are skills and talents required to sell, such as being attentive to your client’s needs and/or desires, but the salesman knows the only thing that matters for success in their profession is turning potential into action – the close.

You need to bring what people want or need, and if you cannot or haven't yet adopted a skill, then acquiesce, and learn a way to make yourself useful. Always find the best fit between what you offer and what the recipient wants. Otherwise, you spend most of your time being unsatisfied and frustrating others.

My best, albeit late, wishes for a prosperous and productive new year. I don't put parentheses around annual periods any longer, but that's my choice and what benefits me.

Sick Days

Sick days, how I miss sick days. I'm not talking about the ones we have as adults. No, I mean the days when mom would feel your forehead after you told her you weren't feeling well. She'd hug you and ask a few questions. Not accusatory questions, but just the kind a mother asks to see if you are okay to go to school.

After that dialogue, and after taking my temperature, she'd call the school to tell them you were not going to be in. Next I'd take two St. Joseph's aspiring for children. I remember sleeping in a bit before mom would come to check in. "I made you some chicken soup. Come downstairs and you can watch TV." She'd leave the room, and I'd get dressed and find a folding TV tray set up in front of the television. The Price is Right was usually on. Within moments she'd bring me some warm ginger ale to settle my stomach and gently place the bowl of steaming soup in front of me. I'll never forget the aroma.

She'd sit with me a while, then I'd finish my soup. We'd talk a bit, and she would constantly be peppering our conversation with comments of concern. "Lie down on the sofa and I'll take care of the dishes." With that, she'd clean up the bowl and spoon and leave the tray for the same feast later.

I'd put my head upon the pillow brought down from the bedroom and watch afternoon TV. I'd usually fall asleep by the time the soap operas started.

I never felt more comfortable as a child then I did during sick days.

Can a Moment Change a Life?

I want to share a story, and this is true, of how we as people can, without provocation, change lives for the better. Several years ago I worked for a hotel chain at a flagship property in Baltimore. I was 19 and the youngest supervisor in the company. I worked the night shift (11 - 7). As a young man I had some difficulty dealing with some of the stress of running a 500 room hotel. When I needed to vent, I would go to the hotel operator (who had an office in the back - this was the 80's). I would damn near be in tears venting my frustrations. She would always smile and say "remember the worst day of your life? You got through that, you will get through this." I would go about the rest of my night feeling somewhat energized.

A few months later I left that job. I had a hard time finding another job and this caused my father and I to fight, as he didn't think it was smart to leave one job without another (dad of course, was right). One morning I was downtown about to go job hunting and saw this telephone operator waiting for the bus. I pulled over and picked her up. We had coffee and talked for a few hours before I drove her home.

We exchanged numbers and said we'd keep in touch (we all know how that works out).

About two weeks after that day, I was watching TV and my mom said I had a phone call. It was her. She said "I want to thank you" to which I replied "for giving you a ride home, you already did". She continued, "no remember that day, you were telling me about all the things you were going through and you were able to laugh and see the future. I've not shared this with many people but I've been dealing with heroin addiction for several years. That day I saw you so upbeat, even without a job and having issues with your dad, I knew I could do better. I checked myself into a treatment program the next day." She said, "you saved my life!"

I was in tears, I've never had someone say thank you in a way that meant so much to me especially when, from my perspective I did nothing. She went on to live a great and amazing life and I shall never forget it.

I hope that anyone who reads this will remember that the greatest gift you can give to some is the to have them leave your company in a better place then when they first saw you!

Fowl Play! - Part 1

Chapter 1:  Prohibition

The cool rain fell in a fine mist as the moon shone through gossamer clouds. A lone woman hurried along the street as night fell and darkness ensconced the city. She covered her head with the hood of her couture overcaot.  She was at Canal Street and Broadway, and would be soon nearing her destination. Amanda Delacroix could be shunned by her colleagues for the act she was about to commit, but the temptation of late was overwhelming. No one in the fashion industry would expect a supermodel of her caliber to engage in such an indulgence.

Amanda made a quick right onto Lespanard Street and walked to the center of the block. She approached an unassuming five story building adjacent to a parking lot.  She walked through the parking lot to the left side of the building. There was an unusually narrow grey colored door.  She had been told to expect this by her closest friend, Marcus Roth. She knocked hard on the door, the requisite five times in quick succession. A speaker near the door crackled to life. “Finger lickin’”, she heard. Amanda could feel her heart beat with anticipation. She suppressed the shame and guilt associated with the act that has become an abomination in the eyes of most people in the city and the country at large. She replied, “Eat more chicken”. The door creaked open and she hurriedly stepped into the room.

Immediately her olfactory senses were taken to an old, familiar bandwidth as the smell of fried chicken filled the room. There were five tables set around the room, a small kitchen with a kettle for deep frying, and a table, with a green vase, where you would leave a small "donation". The light in the room was low, but all was visible. This was typical of the cluckeasy.

It was five years ago that Mayor Walter Bennings Ronberg put a ban on all fried food, with an emphasis on fried chicken. The city at first thought it was a great idea. He had already demonstrated the health benefits through tough anti-smoking policies; the banning of trans-fat; and the elimination of soft drinks over sixteen ounces.

“This ban will eliminate one of the greatest remaining threats to the health and safety of the citizens of this fine city. We will be a beacon of hope and inspiration to other cities throughout the country. I see an America that is free of fried, greasy, and unhealthy foods. To that end, I have set up a task force that will make certain that all frying equipment and ingredients are confiscated and destroyed. This evil will be eradicated!  Those who violate the law will be prosecuted!”

The crowd, on that day five years prior, cheered their Mayor. They felt the power of his words and welcomed this intrusion on their ability to make personal choices. Within moments his words were broadcast across the country. Within months there were calls for a national ban, just like the greatest city in the country passed, on fried foods and sugary beverages.

Democratic Representative Saul Foolstead introduced such a bill and this would be known as the Foolstead Act. This Act forbade the sale or distribution of fried foods and/or the equipment and ingredients with which to prepare them. The penalties for violation of this rule include excessive fines and possible jail time.

Since its passage there have been many high-profile arrests of so - called boot-beekers. These organized crime syndicates would supply the cluckeasy with all it needed to provide customers with their sinful delicacy.  The most famous of this ilk, and still a very free man, stepped into the cluckeasy where Amanda was gluttonously enjoying her meal.

A middle-aged man scampered from the kitchen area to greet his notorious guest.  He approached him with what could only be called reverence.  "Don Monella!  Imma so happy to see you!"  The middle aged approached his guest and kissed his ring.

"Frankie, it's always good to visit your fine establishment."  Salvatore “Sal” Monella was always welcome in any cluckeasy as he was essentially the only supplier with the connections to provide everything needed for a great fried chicken meal.  He continued, "My boys are worried that your orders have been slowing down."

"Imma sorry Don Monella, there hasn't been much business since-a 'dey raided Mario's joint in Harlem.  The people are a-scared to have-a the chicken."

Three men joined Sal and stood beside and behind him.  Sal took off his glasses and pointed and tapped them on Frankie's chest.  Frankie felt his heart being to race and beads of sweat slid down his forehead.  "Frankie, I've known you for a long time and don't want anything to sully our friendship.  Are you sure you haven't been getting your birds from Jack Pardoe?"

Frankie began to shake and put his hands up as if praying, "No Don-aa Monella, I w-w-would never or-or-order from anyone else-a.  Who else-a gonna take-a such good care to bring me the best of da boids, and the finest in da oils?"

Sal started at him for a moment then put his glasses back on and laughed.  "Frankie, I'm sorry I suspected you, but I've heard rumors on the street of people going to Pardoe.  I don't know this cat, but he's from somewhere in Maryland, and he's becoming a pain in my ass!"  He looked at Frankie, who seemed relieved, "now, you'll tell me if he tries to contact you, capish?"

Frankie nodded, "Imma call you right away if that son-of-a-bitch-a shows-a his face around here."  Sal smiled as best he could and shook Frankie's hand.  "Good, and I have a few pounds of fresh chicken on the way for you, and these birds are on me."  He turned and began to walk out with his henchman following behind.

Frankie called out, "Thank you so much-a Don Monella, you come-a by any time and I'll make-a you a special-a chicken dinner!"

Though Amanda could hear the bulk of this conversation, she kept her head down as she licked her fingers clean, then mopped them gently with a paper napkin.  She rose, dropped another donation in the jar, and began to leave.  Frankie smiled at her, "Thank-a you," he whispered.  She sheepishly smiled back, and scurried out onto Lespanard, hoping the shame would pass.

Chapter 2:  A Young Girl from Baltimore

Amanda Davis, destined to be Delacroix, was born on a sunny spring morning in Mercy Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland on May 7, 2010.  She was a slight baby of six pounds and a few ounces.  He shocking blue eyes were juxtaposed with a head of jet black hair that was pasted to her head.  Sally Davis, Amanda's mother, was sweaty from the agony of child-birth, yet she clutched baby Amanda close to her and whispered, "I haven't a clue what I'm going to do with you."  Tears were running down Sally's cheeks as she contemplated this misfortune. 

Sally and Mortimer Davis had struggled through life with little to wear and often less to eat.  Mortimer was in Salisbury for the past two months working as a journeyman in Frank Pardoe's poultry plants and farms. The conditions were grim, the pay was paltry, and his current job was about to end.  The worst part for Mortimer was, at that moment unbeknownst to him, his beloved wife gave birth to their daughter.

Into Tomorrow, Yesterday

The end of 2008 has marked the end of a difficult period for humanity. We have witnessed demoralization and indifference in ways I never imagined would exist in my lifetime. The class and social warfare that has been perpetrated upon us has left in its wake a devastating legacy of bankruptcies, foreclosures, unemployment, despair, poverty, and general discontent. The collective consciousness of the earth has been left enervated and devoid of its very divinity.

This seemingly out of control spiral into a common insanity originates within each person that has and ever will spend time living on earth. The causes cannot be determined solely by looking at the mundane. We cannot find the root of that which is perceived as evil by finding blame in the world around us. Presidential administrations; corporations; dictators and despots; crime; drugs; racism; inequality; persecution all can be part of a larger picture. The ills caused by these conditions are symptoms of that which we all collectively share, a common belief that this is the normal state of existence.

The collective disorder is part of each person and is passed on from one generation to the next. Each person that has endured an injustice passes that pain onto the next generation. This does not usually occur consciously. As an example, I'll cite the gay rights movement and start with my own experiences. When I was a boy, I knew I liked other males. This was not a decision I made, but simply was what it was. I never really fought it, but knew from societal cues, that I would be best to not share this part of my life with anyone else. This was during the 1970's. I knew nothing of the generations of men and women that lived in fear of imprisonment and ridicule for the crime of being homosexual. I knew nothing of the brave men and women that took a stand on that evening of June 27, 1969, at the Stonewall Inn in New York City, thus giving birth to the modern gay rights movement. What I did know what the pain of many before me that suffered for just being who they are and therefore being easy fodder for those that would use fear to separate one from another.

When I reflect upon my youth, I led a rather “normal” life. I went to school; played well with others; and avoided any confrontations by keeping my “secret” to myself; save for a few trusted friends and family members. Some of the friends I knew were frightened and even angry at their own homosexuality and this perplexed me. I could never understand the concept of self-loathing for any reason. I never made a major production when I would “come-out” to a friend or family member. In fact, I usually said it is what it is and I'm not different then the person you knew five seconds ago before I told you this. Somehow, I believe this approach made my revelation easier to digest by the recipient. Truthfully, I just happened to be in the company of some rather accepting and enlightened people that cared more about me that about what I did as a matter of private discourse. Nevertheless, I still looked around, outside of my comfort zone, and saw the cruelty of others. I would read about others who were the victims of ridicule; injury; or even death, just for being gay. The collective pain was still in me.

This collective pain of which I speak crosses not only the areas of sexual preference, but also gender; race; religion; and social class. Over the existence of humanity unscrupulous people in power would cleverly use our very differences to divide us. The rule is simple, keep the masses in their own internal conflicts and power is secure at the top. By the end of the 1960's and into the early 1970's people began to see through the machinations of our own learned mind-sets and into the single humanity we all share. The civil rights movement was broader than race, as it led to a tidal wave of common demands for the unconditional equal and just treatment of all people.

The 1980's would be an enormous blow to the triumphs of civil rights and equality. A re-emergence of the fear based ideology was again taking hold. AIDS made it easy to once again blame homosexuals and drug users for many of society's ills. The evangelical movement in the late 1970's found a cozy home with politics and injected it's brand of morality into society. Truly we moved backward into a time never seen, but romanticized in wholesome images of 1950's families watching TV together while dad smoked a pipe. From what my father told me, there was little of that in the 1950's. This regression of social policy intensified as the 1980's came to idolize garish wealth and greed as the way to personal fulfillment. The new ideology was “if it doesn't affect me, why should I care”. And so went a decade. For me it was a fun time, I was in high school. I hadn't encountered any of the harsh realities of ridicule for being gay; nor did I perceive any racism, sexism, or social injustice around me. What I hadn't yet realized is that the reason I didn't see these things is because my mind was of the collective ideal that everything is good as long as I don't feel bad. Such was the era of Reaganomics.

The events that would take us through the 1990's and into today are all repeats of the past three decades. Pointless wars; oil prices out of control; social injustice; socially engineered prejudice; poverty; drugs; greed; and despair all can be seen over and over again. Why do we allow this to continue when most people want a fair and equitable world? It is because we all have agreed, usually unconsciously, that this is the way things are. We have decided in our minds that we are merely products of the past and pawns for the future but give little credence to what is now. This is the very existence of our common pain. We have allowed our very humanity to be subjugated with ideology. I'll use a simple example to make this point. Take a $20 bill and a $5 bill and place them on the table in front of you. Then ask yourself a simple question. What makes the $20 worth more than the $5? Undoubtedly you will come to a conclusion involving market forces, the numbers on the bills, or that if you go to the store one buys more or less than the other. The truth is they are both worth little more than the ink and paper upon which they are printed, and even that “worth” is dubious. The only reason one is more valuable than the other is that because of collective agreement we have made it so.

This concept of collective agreement isn't harmful in the case of money but can have serious consequence in the case of war or in the perpetration of social justice. In a war scenario, the leaders that desire the war begin beating their drums and developing the “us versus them” that will allow the war to be justified. What can possible justify killing thousands, if not millions of people? In the case of social justice one can create the idea that all people that make less than a certain amount per year are the cause of crime and burden to society because they don't pay their share of taxes and are often assisted by Federal and State programs. Do you think this is impossible? Let's never forget Ronald Reagan's “Welfare Queen” comment thus putting a valuable social resource in jeopardy.

The way out of this collective mind set is to be aware of your own self. That part of you that is divine humanity. This divinity supersedes mere thoughts. I cannot think so little of myself that I can be defined by a few thoughts and words cobbled together during my brief existence on earth, and neither should you. The hope exists in that the same collective pain can become collective peace. We see this in certain individuals like Mother Theresa; Rev. Martin Luther King; Ghandi; and so on. When one person gives of that inner self, that place within them that has peace and joy, it spreads to those ready to receive it. Don't believe me? Think of how you felt when you voted this year. Think of the collective sigh of relief felt when it was announced that Barack Obama would be the 44th President of the United States of America.

Humanity is facing some of its toughest challenges. We will either evolve or perish. To evolve in this case is to step out of the collective agreement that has caused us so much pain and leave behind the insanity of the yesterday. If mankind persists in treating the earth with impunity there will be nothing remaining for the future. More people have perished at the hands of others than through any natural disasters. We have the power to make the changes that we know must be done. We may be too frightened to step out of the comfort zone of our own mind dominated existence, but we must. The same minds that bring beauty into the world through art, literature, music and so on; also bring crime, murder, war, poison, pollution, hunger, and poverty.

I truly believe that humanity has an opportunity to rise to the occasion of real change. This isn't the political changes espoused by the last Presidential campaign; but the internal evolution that involves recognition of our own humanity and by default that of all others. No one person is not going to rid us of racism, for example, that's up to every person. It is time to lay down the mental swords that exists in our thoughts as one against another because of physical difference. This responsibility is not on any one race of people, but on all people. We have to rise about the constant chatter of daily life and see the divinity in our fellow man.

Into tomorrow we will inevitably stumble, that is a given. We can take the lessons from yesterday and try to make tomorrow better, however, as we see this thinking will fail as we are doomed to repeat the sins of the past. The most effective way to make tomorrow better and have a fondness for yesterday is to live today. This moment is the only moment that matters as it is the only moment you have. You are greater than the person you think you are; as you are much more that a compilation of thoughts. Make the most of you.