Monday, October 8, 2012

Dreaming of still life

[This is dream I had]

(How would I begin?.. ok I'm currently overseas delployed with the most negative people I have ever met. This trip makes me look like a bonafide optimist. The "fun" has worn out but even still I have somethings to make me smile even if its only on the inside. I had this dream a little before the publishing and even though it is just a dream I gotta admit it made me smile but at the same time it made me realize that I still have some time left. Either way you look at the glass it was still nice, like parole from here.

Greek mythology tells the tale of a guy stuck in hell with a burning thirst. He is chained in a pool of clear water and everytime he lowers his head to drink the water level drops to just out of reach. Well in another myth involving this poor guy, the daughter of the woman who runs earth gets tricked into going down to hell. While there she screws innocently with all the punishments and in the case of our chained friend she gives him a drink. It was told that she made the thirst worse for the guy despite her act of mercy.

That's what the dream was like…so here it is, I hope you enjoy, I did.)

I was standing in front of my house on the sidewalk by the drive. The world appeard as a ghost would see it. Everything appeared in misty shades of grey and black. Almost not real, almost a mirage or a silvery illusion. I could not feel the breeze or the suns warmth.

There I was unable to feel but feeling the warmth in my heart as I gazed upon my home I had been so long from. I stood there drinking in my cactus with yellow ribbons on its tines. It still stood proudly in its circle of rocks next to a Chinese Elm that my father had tried with no success to kill.

I began moving up the drive to the house, gliding, not feeling the effort of walking. Moving as a spectre would. Walking like a memory returning to being, from the sad memory to the reality of existance. What a house, modest but containing so much. I had lived there with my family for years.  This was the house my son called home after his birth. How many times had I come home here? Returing from prior deployments to this very house.

I pushed open the gate and listened to the gate open on squeaky hinges. I continued on up the side walk to the front door. I stood staring at it breathing in the beautiful relief of finally making it home. I reached out with my right hand to open the door. My hand was moving in slow motion to the open the house. I became aware of the back pack slung over my left shoulder and I shrugged slightly to adjust the load.

The door opend at the slightest touch, allowing me entry. I walked throught the foyer and through the open door to the house.I stopped in the entry way and looked around in the haze of grey and silver. I couldn't see anyone to greet me. No parents or sister to welcome me home. The empty house did nothing to darken the light in the center of my being, instead I bent slightly at the knees and swung my bag off my shoulder and onto the cool tiles at my feet.

I turned left and walked in to the kitchen, there on the counter were my pistols lying there neatly as if on display in a shop. I picked one up and felt the cool metal in my hand and my arm felt complete again. As I looked the gun over I noticed a gallon of milk sitting next to the firearms. I put the pistol down and reached out to touch the milk. I could feel the pebble texture of the container and felt the moisture of the condensation. I watched fascinated by the two drops of water racing down the side of the container. Two droplets locked in a race with each other powered by gravity.

I then remembered my room. I turned on my heels and began walking to the hallway. At the end of the corridor I could see my door, ajar with beckoning light spilling from its opening. As I glided down the hall I reached out with my right arm to touch the wall as I passed. Drinking in the rough texture of the paint.

Finally I stood in the doorway of the room I spent countless hours in avoiding humanity, my place of solice where only my family or closest friends would visit. Where my possesions resided. Where I could be by myself. Finally home…

I pushed open the door and gazed upon my fortress of solitude. All how I rememebered.

But there in my bed was something that stopped my thoughts and ghostly memories cold. Lying there underneath the covers in silent slumber was my beloved son.

I stood there in my doorway unmoving, unable to look away at my sons sleeping self. Eyes riveted as if looking at a work of art so beautiful it would be a mortal sin to blink.

For the first time since entering my house as a phantom I felt like I had returned home. Standing there watching my son sleep. I began hoping he would wake up so I could hug him and talk to him but at the same time hoping that this memory would never end.

Finally home…finally accomplishing…finally not lonely…

Suddenly I heard a noise behind me. I took my eyes off my child and looked behind me down the hallway. The hallway once filled with a silvery light was now dark, black as night. I looked back to my room and my son and both had been replaced by the blackness.…

I now realized I was awake and the noise was my MP3 player scolding me awake. The blackeness lightened and I saw the bunk over me. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed and put my feet on the floor feeling the disapointment and the loneliness of the darkness.Then I stood up and started the duty day…

-B

(I can't wait, God willing I will make it home to my precious son. All this time and the pain of losing a year will be gone when I can look at him and take him in my arms again. When my son is no longer a dream I will feel more whole than I am now…)


Saturday, August 4, 2012

The Showdown...

(This is a true story)

"Mother is the name for God on the lips and mouths of children…"
-Eric Dreven

I think people really don't think about their Moms to often. Well sure people do think of their Mother but only in ways like going shoppin or chillin or who's makin dinner. What I'm sayin is that no one really thinks about what they have learned from dear ol' Mother. Like people really only think of God right before they die.

Well my Mother besides being goofy and sometimes odd has actually given me lots to think about. I liked to think of Mom as my "Chun" or Mr.Myagi cept she's cooler. Mom has directed and guided my Martial training she has alway been there to help me with my spiritual/philosipical(tee hee) training as well.

Well todays story takes us waaaay back, well not really that far back seein as how I'm still young but nevertheless backwards in time to when I was a wee grommit.

Now I'm not real sure how many of you have survived the 80's but things were different back then. Back then kids fought or "threw down" at school. I remember getting in several fights and all that happend was being seperated and told by the Principal that he was "disappointed" in us and they would try to decide who started it and punish that guy. These days they call the SWAT team and have you interogated as Al Queida operatives.

To make it a little more difficult due to the Karate ways I was forbidden to throw the first punch as my Mother and Father both taught me that "Karate first and foremost is for self defence". True wisdom can be found in that last statement.

Well what happend to kick this whole thing off is that I really can't remember. I remember this kid being upset with me and he challenged me to a fight on Friday. I don't remember what day it was or what I did to be challenged. I do know I had a little while and that this was also my first challenge. The fight was also scheduled to take place at the far playground. That is the farthest jungle gym from where all the kids normally played at.

I was floored! I was terrorfied! I asked a friend of mine about what I should do and the only advice I got was to pop my knuckes cause it makes them bigger. Despite not being very helpfull I did follow his advice and began cracking my knuckles as often as possible.

I sweated it out for several days and finally the night before the fight arrived. With no where to go, I broke down and went to talk to my Mother about what I should do. To be honest that took a little to do seeing as how I was probably between 8-10 years old and was going to seek wisdom from my Mom about fighting at school, I mean this ain't Ralphie and Scut Farkis were talkin about here!

Well I stopped at my Moms side as she was doing grown up things at the table with a pen and check book. I told her that I had a fight coming up and the only thing I could think to do was pop my knuckles often. She stared at me for a little while and then I told her that I was scared and that I did not know if I should honor the challenge or should I run away. My Mother looked at me for a second longer and then said " do what you think is right and do what a man should do..." and with that returned to her task, no longer looking at me, dismissing me.

I returned to my room and decided that I would fight. My father was a man of honor and I had to uphold the family beliefs, to be a weaponless warrior.

I don't remember the morning but I remember lunch was the time and when it arrived I summoned up all my courage and I went to the far playground. Sure enough the kid was there playing in the sand.

I approached and announced myself. I was prepared for a fight and an attack. Instead the kid just looked at me and said "Hi".

This had to be a trick, I asked" don't you wanna fight?"

"No, but do you wanna play?"

Me:"sure!"

Him:"unless you'd rather fight?…"

Me:"no, let's play!"

And we played...

It took a lot for me to hit that day. There's an old story about two okinawian masters who had a duel that was won and lost without a single blow. I fought two hard battles to win my own fight without throwing a single strike,block or kick.

It is written that good trees don't bear bad fruit, its true. My mother cultivated and mentored me, hell she still does. She changed my path, she showed me the light and I learned that the right thing is always the harder thing to do. If she hadn't done what she did that day I wouldn't be the man I am today.

To this day I still train the path she has taught me and I will try to teach it to my son.

-B


Sunday, April 8, 2012

Man Overboard

( On April 9th, 2006 the greatest friend I will ever have passed on. I'm sittin here in tears typing this story on my droid. I have this story to share with you about this fallen teamrider, as always I hope you like it, I know I do.)

My old friend Flint was a little apprehensive about his 21st birthday. He was alone, his family had packed up and moved back west. Flint chose to continue his life here a little longer before following them. I think it was cause he loved us as much as his family.

Flint had told me he wanted his father to be there for his birthday. I knew what he meant. He was like me or most young men, he wanted acceptance from his father. My 21st birthday I actually tried to be around my father, you know as a"Man now".

The morning of his birthday I got up, well morning for us was late afternoon. I got up got my act together and before grabbing my board I dug through my closet till I found what I was looking for and headed out for our nightly rondevu at the Carrows.

I was the first to arrive of all the crew. I waited and was seated in the smoking area and served my usual coke. After a short wait Flint arrived, I had told the hostess that when he arrived to show him to my table and she did. He set down his skateboard and removed his backpack known as "Jerry" and sat down.

I started off by saying happy birthday, then I told him this:

" In the old days when a boy reached adulthood and became a man, his father would take him to the edge of the family land, hand him a weapon and send him off into the world to make his fortune.

Flint you are 21 and a man now, since your father is absent and I am your senior , I will take his place…"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a brand new pair of Escrima sticks. His eyes widened as I presented them to him handle first. A while after I had met Flint he had made a set of sticks from a shovel handle, even carving nodes in them to make em resemble rattan.

He took them from my hand, eyes wide with wonder.

"Flint your a man now, go and make your fortune…"

He looked at me, then hugged me, he told me he loved me. Then we made our plans for the night and went skating…

(Flint carried those sticks around for a long time. I don't know what happened to them after his death but I'm sure if you went though his stuff you find a worn pair of escrima sticks amungst his things…)

In loving memory of Flint "Busta" Beck.

-B


Dreams of Memory

(This is a dream I had)

I'm never really sure how these dreams begin. I remember being at a T-intersection in my Town. I was riding a strange bicycle, it was a tandem bike bright yellow in color with chrome metal handle bars ending in white handles. Attached to the rear of the bike was a pair of "Radio Flyer" style wagons, like a column of ducks following the bicycle.

I was peddling hard but accomplishing little. Behind me in the second seat was my then wife, not pedaling but apparently bitching me out for this and that.  In the wagons that followed was my toddler son sucking on a lollipop. In the last wagon was my younger sister with my Grandmother "Cha-Cha" in her blue sport coat sitting with an air of supremecy. In her hands appeared to be a swagger stick of polished black with a chrome head but the stick itself seemed long enough to be a cane rather than a decorative stick.

There I was the only person powering this strange vehicle while being scolded by my wife. Finally what she had said something of a nature to offend me enough for me to stop our little train and dismount. I began to argue back and there we were fighting heatedly like couples do. Cha-cha and my kid sister remained in their seats, staring straight ahead.

My son did not follow their lead. He got off the wagon unnoticed by my wife or me and began exploring the immediate area by the wagon. I took notice of my son walking into the street when I looked over my wifes shoulder. The street was empty as he climbed down the curb to the on-coming lane. I looked at the traffic light to see it was getting ready to change to green.

I yelled for my son to stop as I pushed past my wife to get to him. As this happened time slowed to a bare trickle, ticking by frame after frame. As I passed my wife she looked angered and bewildered and she even appeared to be trying to hit me. Ignoring her I sped as fast as time would let me to rescue my only son.

Time was kinder to my son, as he had already tottered into the center of the near lane with cars entering the street a hundred yards away. The cars gleaming in the beautiful sunlight as a ominous reminder that a race was on, winking at me, taunting me to run as fast as slow can.

I could hear my wifes anger turning to terror as she realized what was happening. Rooted in place she began screaming for me to save our son. I passed Cha-cha and she just stared at me with discontent, sitting with both hands on the end of the cane in front of her, unmoving.

The cars were 10 meters away as I began turning to enter the street. Double trafic fender to fender, there would be no escaping this. I decided that if my son was going to die then were were going to die together. I screamed his name and he stopped turned and when he realized who I was he looked up to smile at me. The cars bore down on us as I reached down scooped him up in my arms and lengthend my stride taking both of us to the white stripes separating the flow of traffic, if we were going to die, it would be together.

The flow of sweet relief filled me when he hit my arms. As I stopped feet together time returned to normal. I stood between the charging cars waiting for our impending demise with my child in my arms and I realized that my son was hugging me. The cars sped by us in a seeming unending stream as I returned the hug with a parents relief...

-B

(When my wife left me she told me that she wasn't faulting me for it but she said I had strange dreams. I think that was her faulting me. I have had strange dream for long as I can remember, sometimes its better than here and sometimes its worse. Every now and again I have my dream interpeted. I never had this one interpeted. My Auntie Mary was pretty dang good at it.

I mainly wrote this one out because there is lots of crazy stuff going on with my son and most of the stuff I do or go through is for my beloved son.)


Thursday, March 29, 2012

Pat remembers

[ This is another old FB story I wrote after finding an old friend again. He knew Flint well and we shared a memory or two of him. Again I hope you like it...]

 So this last August or thereabouts, I was reunited with a long lost friend. His Name is Pat, We used to wander this city to skate together. We met in High school was friends for years after and then had some falling out.I think its been about 11 or twelve years since I had last laid eyes on Pat. Pat got me back into skating and during one session we were skating at Paseo park ,  sitting on a ledge reminiscing bout the days of old, Pat told me about his last encounter with Flint "Busta" Beck.

Pat told me that he was hanging out at Gecko's bar and grill [I assume the downtown one] he actually ran into Flint. Flint was there waiting on his girlfriend. Pat and Flint sat down and drank for a while before making plans to meet up the next day or so to skate. They both parted ways and met the next day.

Pat Described Flints skating as nothing short of the incredible, original style that I knew him to have. Flint rolled around in the improvisinal style that gave him his reputation that he was proud of. He was not a cloned skater he defied the streets skating and dominating everything from the smallest insignificat obsticale that most skaters would be above skating. I loved skating with him.

I could see Pats eyes shining with the warm memory of our fallen friend, as if actually seeing it like a video in his mind. He smiled the whole time he remembered. I asked Pat about how Flint was back then and Pats smile faded away. He told me that Flint had a heavy sorrow that followed him. That when Flint smiled you could see the emptyness inside. He also told me that Flint seemed happiest when he was skating. Then Pat stopped talking.

I sat there in the silence of Pat's memory.Why wasn't I here? I began to feel jealous that Pat had a more recent memory of my Beloved friend. Why wasn't I here for him?

We sat there for a few minutes more before getting up to leave. Pats memory fell to the side as Pat spoke of his Bride to be and their iminent union. I told Pat I'd wear my uniform and he said that he would love to see it. Plans for the next session were made and lunch was following. As we walked to my truck I almost looked over my shoulder and yelled for Flint to hurry up cause we were leaving, as was his custom to frantically squeeze every bit of skating in. But when i turned all I saw was his memory and young kids forming new ones...

-B

I Remember

[ This an old FB post I had written a while back yet around Flints anniversary. Yet again that Time is upon us, so as April 9th appraoches here is another story of a fallen "Board Pilot" known as Flint "Busta" Beck. I hope you like enjoy it.]

So last tuesday I got off of work early, after I parked I noticed this oddly familiar sound. As a few second passed I saw two kids bombing down Academy rd in front of my house. An odd pairing, one on a long board and one on a street board rolling down the center of the street. I stood watching them and the memories rushed back to me of a time long ago now. of a time me and Flint would ride the same street at 4am.

I began to focus on the thought of Flint. How long has it been since he passed on? how much longer had it been since me and him had our last ride, Our last meeting with the glory of stupid kids? I remember riding all over this city, Having conversations with each other to pass the time and distance we would roll. I remember sitting with him at 6am discusing our own warped version of philosiphy at the phillips 66 at Montgomery and Eubank. I remember running from the cops for skating, laughing as we out manuverd police cars on our boards. I remember loving riding from sundown to sun up.

Mostly I remember him. I met him at target skating. He was taken back by me and Chuck cause we were local heroes. He was excited when we cheered when he pulled one of his signature silly, abstract moves. I remember changing the word to song to witty, clever sometimes vulgar lyrics. I remeber being able to sit with him at carrows till close dronkin cokes ,coffee and smoking ciggarettes. I remember him caring about me. Beliving in me as I believed in him.

I remeber his funeral, I remeber my wife hugging me as tears rolled down my cheeks looking at his remains. I remeber people, all kinds of people who came to say good bye.

I remember missing him, but mostly I remember the last letter he sent me. A letter when I was in Kuwait. It was a letter sayin how proud of me he was.

I remember never answering.now its too late. I wish I had, I wish I had said something. Now I cant. I remeber wishing that I could saw "I love you" and that I could thank him for being the person he was.

I stood there as the two kids and their sounds faded in to the darkness of the morning. They faded and dissapeared but my memories of Flint and me rollin down Academy may be faded but its still in my mind. I turned away and walked to my apartment wondering if he still thinks of me.

-B

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Death From Above…[well almost]

(This is a true story)

(The anniversary of my friend Flint's death is once again upon us. Sould be in a week or two. I gotta admit that I have been missing him a lot in the termoil of my so called life. Good friends like him are rare, I shoulda held on tighter to him. I was thinking of yesterdays article "centrifugal force" and it reminded me of this one time Flint and me were skating. I hope you enjoy…)

If you know anything about flint it was that not only was he a great improv skater, it was that he attempted to ollie or jump any gap he came across. Board or blade didn't matter, I have seen him try to jump some silly stuff before. Usually its just funny, sometimes it was spectaculah!!!

One day Flint and me were skating by the Burger King on Juan Taboo. The Bank on the upper lot had a small wall with a small gap dropping into the BK lot. Flint looking for a crowning achievement for the weekend looked at this and decided that this obstacle was his "piece de resistance".

To make it a little more interesting Flint had decided on rollerblading that day. I was on my board having bladed last weekend. We had been switching off from blade to board to keep it "fresh", you know to break up the routine. We got a lot of shit for it but no one could deny the good time we were having.

Most skaters took the BK gap bout midway where it was a foot of planter with 9 or so inches of wall to a 5-6 foot drop with a two foot gap that in the drop was irrevelant. This was not good enough for Flint. If you go north along the wall it gets higher with a much deeper drop. Flint decided to take the BK gap at the top.

At the top of the lot the BK gap weighs in at : 4 foot gap to the 1 1/2 foot tall wall to a at least 7 foot drop with at 3 foot gap at the bottom landing in a slight incline. In short it was no laughing matter.

As Flint got ready, I stood at the bottom of the gap and a few yards south so I could see over the wall to watch. Flint was taking dry runs at it trying to work up the courage when a guy known as "the Matrix" walked up.

Matrix was a pretty damn good rollerbladers. I seen him take rails on his blades that most of you wouldn't walk down. He taught me to rollerblade with Flints help. He had a vice for burgers and could be seen walking to BK from time to time.

Matrix asked me what's up and I filled him in. He was a little alarmed that Flint wasn't jumping yet. We stood there and watched Flint take several more dry runs.

Matrix finally upped the ante, he told Flint that if he made it down the gap, he would buy him a whopper meal. To seal the deal I told Flint that I would buy him a pack of ciggarettes if he made it. Apparently that was enough to light the fire under his ass.

Matrix and I stood together on the bottom of the gap and watched Flint go back to his starting point. He paused to adjust his skates, and took off sprinting torwards the gap. Matrix and me began cheering and whooping, egging him on. He reached the gap, jumped and sailed though the air.

When Flint cleared the wall you could tell that he began to think that this wasn't a good idea. I could see it in his face and by the way he began swirling his arms that he was actually trying to hit the brakes in midair. A look of pure panic and terror was visible on his face as he drifted weightless through the air.

Flints rollerblades then made contact with the ground. His legs bent to absorb the shock of landing. He then curved left, stopped and looked at us.

We began moving simultaneously, Matrix walked to the BK and I went to the Walgreens to buy ciggarettes, Marlboros to be exact. When I came back Flint was still standing in the lot. I handed him the pack of smokes and we went into Burger king together to join the Matrix inside for a burger or two.

There are lots of cameras these days. I got a camera, a pretty cool one from my parents in my bag and as well as a pretty decent one on my phone. I'm sure all of you have cameras on your phones. People take pictures of family and friends, even loved ones. They ussually just store them or post the pics on Facebook. Little handy cameras weren't around when Flint jumped the BK gap. I had a Video camera but we weren't filming that day were were just having fun. Point is I'm glad I didn't have a camera, I captured that moment in my memory.

You can lose memory cards and phones, the internet may crash in the coming zombie appocolypse, but even though Flint is no longer here on this earth I will always have these memories to look at.

Flint, man I miss you, wish you were here…

-B


Saturday, March 24, 2012

Centrifugal Force

(This is a true story)

I don't know if you have ever noticed this but if you were born longer than you can remember ago, playgrounds have changed.

I suppose its because of litigation. In short no one wants to get sued, I sure dont. I really didn't notice the changes till I had my son and began taking him to the park or to play at his school.

Growing up I recall huge maze like works of bars and obstacles. Hell I remember some flat out scared me. There was a vast array of swings and balance beams. Monkey bars were standard issue. I even remember chin-up bars. I remember girls climbing up to this bar suspended high in the air to do their flips and twirls like an olympic gymnast.

Now days that's all been toned down a lot. The playground down the street from my house is like a low "ship" with ladders and stairs compared to the beheamoths of my childhood all safely covered in a soft paint with no sharp corners. Even the slides are lame. I remember thinking the "Big" slide at school was the equivalent of jumping out of an airplane, now the big rush is will I get static shock from the plastic slide that water barely runs down. People worry about kids being overweight but everything is so toned down that the kids will burn half a calorie getting on the palyground equiptment compared to when I was a kid having to literally climb up the jungle gym to be on it. Now its like "Come on let's climb the stairs to the jungle gym!" I'm sure elevators will be next.

My final complaint is that some idiot decided to replace the sand that traditionally covers the playground with tree bark. That person has obviously never fallen off a jungle gym. How can tree bark be softer? When will they decide to put chunks of concrete out there to break our falls?

But let's not forget my all time favorite thing on the play ground…

The "Merry-go-Round"

Dang ole! Rated the most dangerous thing ever put on the playground. In some hands it was a calm, fun ride but in the wrong hands it was even better!

These days I think you have to go to Europe or somewhere else to see one. I saw one in Iraq once but they have all gone the way of the dinosaurs. Extinct only remembered or speculated about.

Growing up Merry-go-rounds were as common as swing sets. One in every park and school. The park down the street where I grew up was no exception. I have lots of fun memories on them.

I remember one time we were all at the park. My family used to make a big deal about birthdays and would make a big celebration picnic in the park complete with pinatas. Us kids, I think it was nine of us, 6 girls/3 boys, would get hopped up on sweets and food and run around screaming our little heads off in the park.

Man that must have been annoying for the adults. I've mentioned my Mother requiring entertainment or she gets bored, well Dads not that much different. Difference is that Dad was a Marine and he has learned to make do with what's at hand. "Improvise, Adapt and Overcome" was the motto he raised us by.

So Dads stuck at a party full ofscreaming, sugar-high kids aaaand there's a merry-go-round…that to him spelt "fun for all!"

So Dad and our ex-uncle (a former Marine himself) would round us all up and herd us over to the wheel-of-death. Funny part was we loved it, it wasn't our first rodeo. They would tell us to hang on and if we(hahahaha! "If") fell off to roll away from the merry-go-round when we hit the ground.

So everyone got on the merrry-go-round and held on. Like it think if we had rope we woulda tied ourselves on. I remember looking at all the girls spread out the ride. All of them would wrap they legs and arms in a death grip. My cousins Micheal, David and me being the only boys would stick together. We occupied on whole section. I sat facing out, wrapped around the U-bar. Micheal and Dave would hang onto the bar that want to the middle of the merry-go-round.

Dad and my uncle would then ask us if we were ready and when we replied yes they would begin a count down rocking the merry-go-round back and fourth untill they reached the count of three.

Then the carnage began.

It must be the way it feels to be in a tornado. The world blurred by, the colors running into each other like a water color painting. I could feel the centrifugal force pushing me into the bar, hell I could feel my internal organs moving to one side of my body. I could hear the girls sreaming as everything swirled by.

I remember looking back and seeing them fly off one by one. One second they were there, then they let go and were swallowed by the swirling vortex. Of the boys David being pretty young was the first to go. Michael them would slide down and hang on to me. His legs would tire out and let go, I looked and saw him perfectly level, sideways in the air clinging to my arm, screaming bloody murder. His hand got tired and he let go, he slow drifted into the void, then was swept away.

I began to have problems of my own, it bean to hurt to hang onto the bar. I tried to adjust my legs and released too much and the vortex grabbed hold of my ankles. I then found myself suspended like Mike. Hanging on for dear life I could see my Father laughing as he and my Uncle continued pushing the Merry-go-Round. I'm pretty sure I was screaming by then. My fingers began to tire and I succomed to the vortex drifting out into the void before being swept away.

The world stopped in a hurry with all the colors becoming recognizeable shapes. Then I made contact with the ground and rolled several feet. When I sat up in the grass I saw all the kids in a group cheering and laughing. I got up and ran over to cheer on the remaing kids on the wheel…

Man what times, I'm sure now that's child abuse.

Several of my cousins and I still sit around and laugh about the wheel of death. Come to think of it all the things we did as children are considered unsafe or dangerous now. Despite all of that I have made many memories that I cherish highly.

I remember a few years into skateboarding an old woman who did not approve came out to tell me that I could have an injury that could confine me to a wheelchair or worse and that I should do no "dangerous" activities to avoid that and be perfectly healthy in my old age. To that I replied " yeah but imagine the stories I'll tell from my wheelchair…"

-B


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Things That Go Bump In The Night.

[This is a true story]

We have already talked about the unifying princibles, you know the things that link all cultures. Math and the Boogey man always come to mind. All children every where are scared of something in the night, some awful predator, monster thingy.

Before I really got into horror movies I was absolutely convinced that there was something out there at night. I suppose the young Marine across the way didn't help these thoughts, I'm sure he meant well. It just so happened that we were talking about nightmares and he told me of one where he would dream of a big scary monster hand would reach up from under the bed and pull him under. I gotta admit that the thought of that is absolutely terrorfying to such a wee grommit like myself.

I don't think  having a pretty logical mind helped either. Ok before you start questioning my logic claim, listen to this. Its not like its a good logic, its actually way,waaaay too much. Like I didn't weigh the probability of existance but rather the possiblity of completion. To dumb it down I didn't use my logic to determine if it was possible for these creatures to exist but rather just how possible it was for them to accomplish their dasturdly deeds.

Ok here's an example of my thought process. Once we went to Seaworld and my Dad wanted to go to the shark tunnel. At that time I was aware of the movie "Jaws" and the people eating (specifically the ease of eating little people such as me) capabilities of sharks. I refused to enter the tunnel. Dad got mad and asked why, to which I responded…

"The sharks will eat me!"

Dad then told me that sharks like all fish cannot survive out of water. I knew through personal expirience and through documentaries that fish can live out of water for a short time before dying, more specifically, they will live long enough to bite me in half. I knew that the shark could break the glass, swim in the water on the floor to me bite me in half, then die. I'm sorry but a lose-lose is still a loss. Long story short, cutting my losses I refused to budge, dad got pissed, I got yelled at but I remaind solidly in one piece ,un-bitten by a shark, that is a "win".

Well back to the story at hand.

Dad had declared quiet time after dinner and this reqired that we go to our rooms to quietly play or whatever. That night I chose to use the time to determine just how possible a monster attack was and how the attack would be carried out.

I'm ashamed to admit that I found myself very vunerable thus highly suspectable to a monster attack.

I had two major vunerabilities on my bed.

1. The free side of the bed.
Wide open, I used that side myself to get on and off the bed. Can't be avoided. The monster could attack from the free route and escape easily. The monster would have his choice of pulling me under the bed or dragging me to the closet.

2. The wall side of the bed.
Even though the bed was against the wall. I knew I would reach down to the floor that was and that if I could do it, the mauraders of the night definitely could. This was the secondary direction of attack that it could be carried out. The creature could only pull me under the bed from here.

I didn't really worry about the foot of the bed because the was a trunk there and I was, well really short. A lot of reach was needed compared to the sides of the bed.

Well after a little thought I finally found what I needed in Buggs Bunny cartoons.

What I needed to survive the night were decoys.

I had two fairly large stuffed animals in my childhood. One was a bear and the other was a stuffed killer whale. Both were large enough to possibly fool a monster that only had seconds to carry out its attack. Plus if one was taken I 'd have proof of these child-snatchers. Then my Father and his Marines would go to fight the monsters ending the reign of terror of the night. The Marines would fight for the children.

I slept with the bear covering the wall side and the killer whale on the floor side. Those two sentries guarded me infailibly, ready to give their lives so that the Marines would end the terror. We slept that way for a while, I'm not really sure how long till the worst happened.

I woke one Saturday morning to bright sunlight. I had slept soundly with my guardians. I did my daily check or roll call. I looked to my left and there as always was the bear. I turned and looked to my right and the killer whale was gone…

In panic I checked the bed, looking all over for her. Then my mind started racing, with the fact that I had been attacked the previous night.

The poor whale!! She was a killer whale selected because of that to perform this duty and she's gone!

I finally worked up the courage to creep up to the edge of the bed to see if there was anything left before screaming for my Father to rescue me and go to war.

I had closed my eyes when I got to the edge. I peered over the edge and opened my eyes…

There she was, unharmed lying on the floor. I guessed that I must knocked her off the bed. I reached down and scooped her up and returned her to her place of duty…

I'm not really sure how many years I slept with those two by my side. I wonder if they had ever fought any battles to protect me in the night. Both of those heros I gave to my kid sister and I believe she still has them.

I laugh about all this not because it seems childish but because once I went in to tuck my son in for the night and I noticed he placed stuffed animals on the floor side as well as the wall side. I never asked him why he did that.

I wonder if the monsters die when you no longer believe in them? Does that mean my defenders died with the monsters?

I do know that my son sleeps soundly at night with his sentries standing guard as I did as a child…

-B


Monday, March 12, 2012

Memoirs of a Television

(This is a true story)

(Things are such a drag these days. While doing what I do, life ain't always the funnest(hahahaha) or the best of conditions. This guy I know called Poacher said that life would be a little better if we had a T.V in the bay where we reside. I kinda admit that after watching full length movies on my droid3 that a T.V. would be welcome.

What I do to while away the time is I remember things and reflect on my past. I was walking to eat with Poacher and another guy called VDG and I told them this story, and now I'm sharing it with you.)

Horror movies are one of my favorite types of movies! Man I dig em. I love watching the movies and getting all creeped out. The stories are fantastic, well most of em anyway. Horrors can be such a good time.

The way I see it are that there are only two major drags of watching horror movies.

1. Chicks don't dig em.
Ok, well at least all the girls I'm interested in will not watch a horror. Actually bout every pretty girl I know refuses to watch em, and I know of one that did watch a horror in a theatre and she ended up hiding in a Mcdonalds bathroom.

2. Dad abhorrs them.
He spends the entire movie covering the term "Bulls%*t" with a cough. I think its weird though that he stays till the end of the movie.

One of the cooler things about Horrors is that my Mother loves them. Dang ole! Shed go on and on about them, tellin us about the ones she's seen and telling us ghost stories. It was a whole lot of fun listening to my Mom go on and on.

So that means Mother had the same problem I do with that genre. But what she did have for her was my older sister and me. After a while us kids began to like watching those movies. So the three of us would watch the Twilight Zone, Alfred Hitchcock and out all time fave "Them". We'd watch them together roughly till Dad started coughing.

We did catch breaks though. My Dad being a Marine would end up pulling overnight duty and when that happened…Awwwwwwww cheeeea!!!!!

As Pyle would say " Oh, Its on!"

Wed drop him off at work cause we only had one car. We all kiss him and tell him wed miss him. Then we would all climb back into the car, wave aaaand drive straight to the video store.

While at the video store we rent a whole stack of horrors. In this modern times I think people would called the cops. My sister and me were pretty young and we would be running up and down the horror isle scouting movies and when required reading what the movie was about off the back of the package.

Upun completing the movie selection phase we would all pile back in the car and drive to a gas station. There we would buy junk food, popcorn and cokes like no tommorow. I remember getting Mountain Dew in a glass bottle.

That accomplished we drove home and proceded to get wild. We watched every movie that we rented. We stayed up all hours of the night fascinated by the creepy crawlies and spookables we saw. I seem to recall once we watched the entire Nightmare on Elm street series in a night.

When the movies were done we'd sleep a little, get up and drive back to the movie store, Mom would pull up next to the return slot, Inda and me would return the movies, then we picked up Dad.

I'm pretty sure a lot of people have little rituals like what we had. Family game nights, zoo trips,cruises, things that you imagine families doing together. I treasure those nights over all that stuff. Yeah it wasn't fancy, it wasn't Disney land, but it was us. Me and my sister fought all the time making my Mom mad, however for those times wed come together and spend time with each other.

Life, even Family life takes away from each other, but I think the beauty of it is that little things can bring you together as a family.  Something as trivial as C & D movies could bring us together, but Clare once said "Nothing is trivial"

Life has split us all up for now and even though I'm far from home wearing an American flag on my right shoulder the memory of those time makes me feel close to my family.

-B


Sunday, March 4, 2012

Parenthood

[This is a thought] (dang ole! I'm having lots these days!)

"All of which is the American dream!"- Rage against the machine

Back in my childhood days I contrary to my Fathers beliefs actually thought quite a bit. I thought about all kinds of things. Like kid stuff and then I thought of not so kids stuff like God or adult things.

One thought I had once was about immortality. Wow! To live forever without fear of injury or death. I think if I went back in time and asked all my childhood friends, one of the three wishes would have been eternal life. I also believe that without the shadow of death hanging over you life just seems better. Imagine the wisdom and the fun of living through time, witnessing the changes in life and the world.

I went to my Mother who is my spiritual and philosifical(hahahaha!) Mentor/instructor with this jem of a thought. I then proceded to ask her if she would like to live for ever.

"No."

I was floored! Here was my spiritual mentor and she said "No". I regrouped and the only thing I got outta tnat effort was to ask why not.

" Who wants to watch all their loved ones grow old and die?"

I gotta admit I didn't think of that one. Realizing that I was outgunned I retreated to my room to think about what had happened. Like all children my faith in my Mother made me acknowledge that she was right. However like all childeren I didn't understand why.

Sometime later in that era the movie "Parenthood" was released. It was billed as a comedy and loving comedies I watched it. I gotta be honest I cannot recall wether I saw it in the theatre or on cable but I remember thinking it was funny. It was a funny movie, lots of different types in it. I laughed a lot. I laughed to myself, hahahahahahaha! That's what family is all about!

Well the years came and went, I would see that movie here and there over time. I would still laugh at the movie…

Then I got divorced.

I'll spare you all the Emoness of my depression during that time. You all know a lot happened. What's important is that watching my son grow during this horrible event. Watching him cope and try to understand why we were not a whole family anymore. It hurt me to see him go through that.

Then this year I sat down and while sitting up with my Mother watching T.V. Parenthood came on. I sat there prepared to laugh and remember the movie.

I saw "Parenthood" for the first time then.</p>

The movie was beautifully done. It caught all the pain of raising children. The movie broke my heart. I saw and understood for the first time what it truly meant to be a parent. I saw how painfull it is to have a child and how absolutely, truly wonderfull it is to be a parent.

Most children believe that we don't understand what they go through and maybe they are right. What they don't know that is we are there with them through their trials and tribulations. Like "footprints" we carry them through their problems, we care for them , we have to be willing to discipline them and above all we love them.

"Mother is the name for God on the lips and mouths of small children" yeah that's a true statement. I hope out there is a name for Fathers. I believe everything will work out no matter how painfull because "Matthias, is the word for "gift from God".

I can truly say that now I understand. I was blind all those years but now I see. I know now why my Mother said no and I know now what she and my father went through raising us. I just couldn't see them suffering through my own tears.

I just hope that the Stooges don't get philosiphical on me, it would be more than I could take…

-B


Friday, March 2, 2012

A bird in the hand…

[This is a thought]

"You're no more than a thought…"-old 97's

Back in the old days of California (Left Coast!!!) The Catholics in order to help the settlers built 21 fort like church complexes or "Missions" to supply or protect the hopefull within its walls. Spread from southern to northern California are these 21 works of art. Designed to offer shelter from the elements and hostiles, the Missions and the clergy within helped the state become populated. All 21 of them were placed a days travel apart to act as way stations. To this day the Missions still stand however I have heard tell that they are no longer open to the public.

When I was a child my Mother would take my older sister and me to the Mission San Louis Rey to play in the gardens and parks around the place to play. Like all of Socal, there was plenty of pigeons to go around. Linda and I would chase them because my Mother had promised to let us keep one if we could catch it.

Children are fascinated by birds. If I had caught one I would have stared at it for hours in wonder. Where has it been? What has it seen? Where will it go? And how does the damn thing fly?!

I imagine, although I have never asked, that that's why people keep birds as pets. You can buy all types of exotic birds. Brightly colored birds with beautifull patterns, birds of prey, delicate birds even birds that will sing you a song. I would own a bird myself except for the fact that I often wonder why would you cage a bird?

Maybe people buy birds in some kinda attempt to keep something that isn't theirs? I don't think its right to cage em cause some things were meant to be free. Its bad enough all the fairy tales died, why cage wonder.

Some things are just to pretty to keep. Its nice to have something in this drab world that sings in melody and color. Sometimes I see pretty things and I just stop and look, be it a my son, a bird, a flower, a family, the scenery or just a pretty girl in yoga pants. I stare in wonder at how could something be so beautifull. Then after several moments I'm glad I saw it and my day is just that much better. Beauty beheld, dang ole!

Sometimes I think the people in my life are the same way. I have met several beautifull, wonderfull people who are no longer in my life. I think of them and am a little sad that they are not here with me but at the same time glad that they did stop by for a while. They did color my life, and to be honest even though they are not here anymore, I am happy to have been blessed even for a little while. I used to meet such special, beautifull people and I'd desperatly reach out at them, like when I was a child chasing pigeons in the cool green grass lying in the shadow of the missions. Reaching and hoping to catch that beauty, to make it so I can keep it longer than a glimpse of time.

As the bird flys away all I can do is stand there and watch. I can either smile or frown as it gets smaller in the horizen. These days I let it go and wonder about who else will be touched by its beauty, who else can see it, who else will it share itself with?

Even now a bird is preparing to "fly the coop" so to speak. I am saddened but at the same time I'm glad that I did get to expirience that beauty. I will always remember my time with it.

The other day I was at a remote site waiting to go home (home is where you hang your weapon). It was a cold, cloudy, windy and drab ugly day topped off with a hint of saddness. I was leaning on a trailer staring at some trees and foilage when all of a sudden a bright red robin landed in the bushes. The contrast was immence. I stared for a while drinking in the red and the fact that it was a robin(not to many where I'm from). I got the idea to take a picture with my phone, as I reached down I took my eyes off the robin for a second and then it was gone.

People come and go I say a lot. My life is filled with the snippets of beautiful people. I wish to hell some would stay and help make my life complete.

Its like I'm not the one looking at the bird in the cage, I am the one in the birdcage.
-B

"I'm no more than a thought and I'm getting smaller in your rearview mirror…"


Friday, February 24, 2012

True loves first miss…

(This is a true story)

"Some of us are born with the impulse to f%$k,fight or ruin everything around us…"-Bake

(Love is one of the most interesting things out there. Next to money everything revolves around love. Love this, love that or love pink, I mean damn! Not that I'm complaining about vickies but love seems to be everywhere for better or for worse.

I have this unusual habbit (one of many) where I tell people I love them. Dosent matter who it is, I love em. I've told Sully, Honey, Vigil and other assorted persons in my daily life. I'm pretty sure I'm not in love with them, but it is a new Army. I do however actually tell certain people I love them like my son and stuff. I just say it to people for comedic relief or to be silly.

I gotta admit its gotten me in trouble once or twice. Actually one such incident happened the other day. I made an "awww, you do love me"comment and got an interesting rant about love and that stuff. While it was happening I thought to myself "Damn! Me and my big mouth!" and it reminded me of the very first "love incident" I ever had, which leads us to todays story.)

Now if you know anything about my past, you'd know that I had fallen madly in love with a girl named Clare. Dang ole! She was something man! I remember the first time I had laid eyes on her, I didn't wanna stop looking at her. I met her hanging out with a bunch of the guys I skated with. She also was best friends with a dear friend of mine named Marge. I'm pretty sure as it goes she called me first( its been so long) and we had become friends. I remember talking to her all hours of the night, which was funny cause I was still in high school and responsible for getting my behind to school on my own. I just wanted to touch her, be around her and all the other delights of teenage love. I took to leaving her notes and drawings and on holidays I'd leave her gifts in her mailbox.

Well obviously it didn't work out. We dated a short time and she left me. I assume its me. Ironically she made me realize that I'm "that guy" and by that I mean "the nice guy, that girls don't want". So in the end we were just really good friends. After along time though we had a falling out and a while later reunite briefly. We came back together because she started working at my local skate spot. That's where the tale begins. This all happened a few years later.

I had been skating this spot for years by then. When clare came back and worked at the Soup'er Salad that had opened up in the parking lot I would visit her early because there were no customers. We'd talk and hang out untill someone showed up ,then I'd leave.

Well one day I got to skatin early and was attempting to find someone to skate with. Lacking a wingman I stopped into Soup'er Salad to see Clare. While we were chatting I looked out the storefront which was all glass and saw my old friend Flint Beck riding by on his skateboard. I saw my chance to skate, grabbed my board and without thinking kissed Clare on the cheek , then spouted out "I love you." and ran out the door.

I jumped on my board and sped off in order to catch Flint. All of a sudden what I had just said and done, as well as the effects hit me. I came to a halt several meters from Flint and stopped. To my horror the images of what happend were on a loop in my mind.

Flint saw this and came over, concerned he asked me what was wrong.

"Dood! I think I just f#$ked up!"

He asked me why and I had told him what had happened. When I was done, he stared at me open mouthed like I had just pee'd on the Queeen of England.

"Don't worry man, I'll fix it!" (He was a damn good friend.)

He knew it coulda been anyone that I woulda kissed and said I love you to. I was that kinda guy goofy and stupid. The concern was the look on her face and I gotta admit she was less than estatic about it. Flint kept good his word and talked to her about it. He reported back later that night he said that it was "Ok" and everthing was cool. He also stated that he was tempted to tell Clare that I had got my share of girls(he used a different phrase) to make it appear cool but he had decided against it.

Not to long after that we had our final fallin out. To this day I assume that it was because of the "I love you " incident. We weren't angry or anything, it just sorta ended.

That love I guess, well at least according to me. I had a narcotics class once and the instructors told me that with drugs you are always trying to recapture your first high. That your first expirience is the best and that the addiction is trying to re-do that high. That's my love life to a "T". Trying to find someone who literally kicks me in the tenders like Clare did.

The rest of my life will be spent fighting the futile battle of trying to keep my mouth shut.

-B

(The years come and go. I still find myself saying stoopid things and occasionally dealing with the consequences. I still chuckle to myself about it because it brings back the memories of long ago. I will always be this way. I will continue to say stupid things and do silly dances, its what helps me get by in this dreary world. I told kid to use a crayon in this black and white world while she colors outside the lines. To see the world through the eyes of a child is the only way I can maintain being human. Its the only way to see what this world really looks like. To see life through more than just the bland vision of adulthood. Well caffiene dosent hurt either tho…love ya-B)


Thursday, February 16, 2012

Dreams of ordinary men.

(If there are typos please forgive me for this is on my phone)

(This is a dream I had many, many moons ago.)

(Everyone had stress these days. More often than not I see people cranky and poopy faced. Not that I'm really one to talk, I have my fair share of stress daily. People will fight their stress with many activities that probably actually raise their stress levels that make them realize that their normal everyday stress ain't really so bad, from the fire to the frying pan, so to speak. My mother once told me that she would never go through life again. When I asked her why she replied that "life hurts, why would you do that again?". She's right life as good as it is, is still painfull.)

Everything was rushing at me. My wife and me were fighting. Money and bills were one of the many topics. I could hear my son crying for attention in the background. My body hurt and there was a massive headache pounding in my head.

She started yelling at me about the army. Fuck! The army, I'm in the army! Aren't I deploying soon? Didn't they mess up my pay? When do I report? Why is she yelling at me?

My sons hands began pulling at my leg. Aggrivated I sighed heavily as I picked him up and held him. He did not stop fussing. I could smell his skin as he struggled in my arms still crying for attention.

How did this happen? I'm supposed to be happily married. Why is my beautiful wife angry? Is she mad enough to not love me anymore? I just want her to stop yelling.

The bills! The damn bills! Why is she yelling when I'm the only one that works? Can't she just stop!? She's not listening to anything I say!

I can feel the spark turning into a flame. The flame is getting bigger. Anger, frustration, the world is turning red…why can't she stop! I just want her to love me!…stop! please stop!… I wish this wasn't real! Why do I have to go through this!?

The world begins to swirl like a sink drain. All the images flow together in a uintelligble collage of colors and sounds…

Rushing torwards me…I'm standing in daylight.

"Where am I?" I look around me blinking in the harsh sun. I realize that I'm in my hometown. I'm standing there with my left foot on my skateboards tail, proping the nose and front wheels up at the sky. I'm wearing my old favorite Powell Perelta grey shorts, a green t-shirt and my black Plan B hat. I'm staring down a road I recognize as my favorite to roll down on my board on the way to Miller elementary, my favorite place to skate.

I realize I'm back to my childhood. My middle teen time. As I realize this I feel the weight of the world leave my shoulders. I feel the breath return to my lungs, my back and shoulders no longer crunched under the weight.

I take a deep breath, feeling the California sun on my face, and I pushed off down the hill…

( after I had this dream I told my wife at the time about it. She got really mad and cried for a while. She said that it means that she made me miserable. I don't really think she did, but not like she'd listen.

The moral of the story is that yeah, life is tough. Too many kids rush to be grown ups and none savor the time they were kids. I know I had it good but at the time I didn't think so. I had to become a parent to understand. I know I can never return to neverland, but I can look back fondly on those times and take comfort in the fact that those days and my parents made me into who I am today…)

-B