As so often in my life I am compelled to write.  Yet, as so often as I find myself sitting in front of the computer, I know not what I want to write about.  Sure I can write well, although, I haven’t the vocabulary of Yeats and Jamison.  I haven’t the wit of Twian.  I don’t even know what I want to write about. 

 

The best writers they say just sit and write each day and something comes out. I find that write only when I want and when the mind compels me to do so.  As now is the case. 

 

I suppose I could write horror stories.  I suppose I could try to write a romantic novel.  I suppose I could just write for writings sake and see what comes out of this twisted mind of mine.

 

Let me tell you what happened today.  I was fired from a job I love.  Yes, I loved this job.  I loved this company worked for, for over three years.  Not, that I gave my all to the job, but it paid the bills and the people were brilliantly funny to work with.  I’ll miss them all.

 

Now back to my writing.  If you look at what I write, and how I write, the words are simple.  They are no more that five or six letters long.  Usually, my voice is very passive as well. 

 

Take a look, do you see anything that remotely looks like college bound word?  A word that isn’t overly simple?  A word used in a sentence that has more than one meaning?  See, the vocabulary sucks.  Also, I am quite sure most of the grammar is way off kilter.  If kilter is even a word, I’d be amazed.  If I put a comma in the proper place, I ‘d be amazed even more.

 

There you have it.  What should I write about?  I wrote a play about a Martian who crash lands in the backyard of a Red-necked Texan.  That was fun.  Can I do it again?  I don’t know.   Someone once told me it isn’t art until you can do it twice in a row.  Can I write another farce?  As funny as the first?  Can I even find my voice?  Can I rid myself of all the anger and hurt I feel in my heart towards Humanity?  Will I sleep tonight?  I have to go to work at my full-time job tonight at midnight, will I make it through the night since I haven’t slept but a wink today?

 

You see these are the ramblings of a madman.  For I am truly mad.  In the sense I need serious physiological help.  I should be locked up in an insane asylum.  Really I should.  I don’t belong on this planet.  I belong elsewhere.  I don’t even understand human nature, your morals are all wrong for me.  My morals are all wrong for society.  They are not fit to part of the Human race.

 

Speaking of a human race, do you know, now when asked by pollsters, what race I am, I always claim to be human.  Isn’t funny?  I am not white, I am not black, I am not Asian, I am not European, African, Chinese, Islamic.  I am Human.  Well, as best that I can tell.

 

I am tired now,  it is best that I put away my ramblings and try to close my eyes and drift off to sleep.  If only I didn’t have to wake up again.  I know though that I will.  Death isn’t ready to take me home yet so that I may once again be a part of something greater than what it is that I am...

To Mom

 First of all for those of you who were wondering, Mom passed peacefully and with dignity. Her last few hours were pain free and she passed surrounded by those who loved her the most, her family.

 She is missed, but as we are told so often by spirit, she is in a better place.

I want to thank the members of her church, who appeared it seemed out of the woodwork, and sang in praise and worship as her final hours approached. You were like the angels of heaven who give us hope that each day God grants us on this earthly plane is going to be a better day than the day before.

I want to believe my mom lived her life with that thought in mind, make each day better than the last. Even to the end she gave us all hope that all is well.

 I am grateful; the one lasting impression through this ordeal is her sense of humor never faded. Our family will always have this story to tell. As she faded, her last conscience act was a smirk of “What are you kidding” as we tried to make her comfortable and my brother Tommy asked her how she was feeling. She made us all laugh and for me made it easier to except her time was near. I hope that as well makes it easier for you to except the quickness of her passing.

Many of you probably knew my mom better than I. You worked with her and saw her on a daily basis. To me, she was just Mom. Just mom, who meddled in her children’s lives, yet never missed a function that was important to her children and grandchildren. A mom who called us every week and made sure the family gathered for Birthdays, Holidays and on Sundays for Brunch or Lunch or dinner.

 My mom was a woman of great courage. She spent the first part of her life with a dream of being a teacher. She attended and graduated from Endocott College in Massachusetts. After college she changed direction to become a housewife and raise four children, who most of the time gave her nothing but grief as children do. When her marriage ended, she picked herself up and headed for Houston, a single woman with three children still under her wing.

She made a home for us here. Never having worked a day in her life, she got a job at Joskies and soon with the help of friends found her way to the University of St. Thomas, where she stayed and flourished for twenty-five years. And had not this unforgiving disease taken her life she would have stayed for many more years to come.

My mom was a giver and a friend to all. Above her phone for years I recall a plaque that stated “Strangers are only friends we haven’t met yet.” She lived by that motto as her children grew up and out of her nest. With her home empty, she opened her home to students from around the world, who in turn opened their homes allowing her to travel the world over.

All the while she never forgot her children. She worked hard to make us better people by giving us each a college education and she was the first to make sure our needs were met above all else.

My mom was a comforter. As we sat in the hospital room waiting and wondering and hoping mom would be well and back to her old self, I was asked for my first memory of mom. I must have been three. Art, my older brother, left for his first day of kindergarten, leaving me behind for the first time in our lives. I remember my mom finding me crying in a corner because I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go too. Mom picked me up, held me tight and told me it was going to be all right I’d be going soon, too.

 My mom was always on the go. My mom had taken my daughter Malia on a trip to London for her High School graduation present. Recently, Malia tells me, how she’d want to sleep in, but no... Her grandmother kept her on the go. Up early every morning, out late each night. “There is so much to see,” she’d say “and we’ve got to take everything in.”

 Most of all my mom was unconditional love. She shared her heart, gave all that should could with every fiber of her being, she never asked for anything in return, made friends easily, hurt when her family turned away from her but continued on with a sense of humor, living each day to the fullest and like Midas turned to gold everything she touched.

I am truly amazed at the number of people’s lives she touched. I only wish I could have seen her the way you saw her and I hope you’ll remember as I’ll remember her not as a woman whose life was cut short, but as a loving kind, generous woman, who never grew old, was always able to find humor every day and kept her family close to her heart.

I love you mom.

Your little black sheep is going miss you most.

I was worried when I went to bed this morning. (Yes, this morning, remember I work nights) For some reason, I thought I wouldn't wake up in time to pick up my son from school.  Dreams of me being deaf and blind kept me awake.  So to combat the dreams, I slept with one ear and eye open. In doing so, I woke restless to the sounds of the damn dogs barking.  Did I tell you I have three dogs? Yes, two of which don't sleep with me durning the day.  I made the mistake of letting them have the run of the house this morning as I slept and for some reason around three this afternoon they barked and barked until I pulled myself out of bed and let them outside.  I thought of covering my head with my pillow and try to get some more sleep but the more I tried to ignore them, the more they barked.  I didn't help that I dreamt I was deaf and blind.

Someone out there must want me to remember my dreams. Because, for the second day in a row, let me restate, for the third day in a row, the phone has rang at exactly 11 a.m.

It happened to me yesterday as well only this time, I was sleeping soundly. Yes I was in the middle of a dream. For the life of me, I dont recall much of it, nor do I remember yesterday's all, now. I did yesterday, but I decided to not right it down right away and by the time I decided to write it down it was lost.

So today I am going make another attempt to remember. It had something to do with my son. That's it. Any dream interpurters out there that can help? A dream about my son. At least I remember him being part of the dream. What was happening? How do I know? It was a dream. I remember waking up saying I want to remember this dream and I remember being in a lucid state and again remember that I was thinking that I was dreaming. So there you go.

Advice for the day for youngsters or those just starting out in life. "Do not go into debt! If you get a credit card application in the mail, throw it away. Otherwise you end up working your ass off for nothing other than paying other people money. If you must go into debt, make sure you don't take to much on and always learn how to handle money. Spend wisely." Okay off the soapbox now.

I hope you enjoy your day...

I woke up this morning at 11:30 a.m. I would still be asleep except the phone rang. As I woke up I remember dreaming of a girl on a park bench in a Zoo. A voice kept telling her she the FBI was after her. She wanted her freedom, but she denied the charges. Each time she denied her desire for freedom, a strip of paint was painted along the path she sat. The strips got closure and closure. I kept thinking it was time to wake up, I was going to be late for work (I have to work twice today - 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. and again from Midnight to 5 a.m., I have to do that all week. I hate the spilt shift because I have to make four trips into work.) Back to the dream, just as the strips got close enough to the bench, the young girl took a paint brush and painted a strip right next to the bench and the phone rang. I answered it. Whoever it was didn't want to talk to me, they just wanted me to be awake, and so now at 12:33 p.m. I am wake. I'll be awake until 5:30 a.m. Wednesday morning.

It is now Friday, August 13, 2004... I find myself alive again for another day. They powers that be seem to think that is a good thing. I have my doubts, but who am I to disagree. Today was an uneventful day, I did win a Backgammon Tournement and watched "Six Feet Under" it is a great HBO series, if you get the chance watch it. I highly recommend the serise and may at some point put the link into my favorites.

What a day, my knees are killing me, and I need an asprin. I got to play in a few backgammon tourniments, but the dice gods were against me. Thursday I have a new job interview. I'm not to sure about it, as I got the call from a resume I sent up on Monster.com. We'll see what happens, it's at 3:30 in the afternoon.

Oh, I suppose now that I am writing a blog, I ought to let you know about myself. This blog and I are going to be a lot fun and you are going to read me. Don't forget I know where you live. So I am an old man, somewhere in the late 40s. My main goal in life is to live to be 116. That'l put me right at the time of the USA's Tricentenial, I want to see again the Fireworks over New York Harbor as we celebrate another 100 years of this great country of ours.

I am a writer, by profession. A Sagitarian by birth. A father of two, divorced man. I would have been married 20 years this year had I chosen to stay with my ex, but I didn't. I don't make a good husband, I like women to much to stay faithful to them. I find women very fascinating, although I can't stand the girlish things they do. Please, don't ask me to read poetry afterwards, just let me sleep. I'll wake up again the morning and perhaps listen then. Oh, don't even grab me and make me stay, saying, I miss you already, well, silly girl, if you let me go, I'll be back as soon as I can.

God is very important in my life as well. No, not the God of the Christain bible thumpers. Those people I cannot stand, I have yet to meet a Christian I like. They have and advocate to much hate in their speech and good golly, how can the promote such a god as theirs? We'll talk about this more as we go along. All I can say for now is just live a good life, and be as kind to people as you can. Live not in fear, but in love. Live life to to the fullest and enjoy those around you.

Those are my mottos.

Ah, yes, as I have said I don't make a good husband, well, I don't, but as of October, I am going try again. I'll let you know how that goes. So for now, that's it. I'll be back again in the near future with more bloggerings... Enjoy your day.