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

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

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…"

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)

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

Message in a Bottle.

[ I find myself writing to people who don’t exist anymore or people who are no longer in my life. I personally have been fighting this letter for several years. Mostly I resisted for lack of support. People were tired of hearing about my tragedy, of my beloved wife. All I wanted was for someone to let me rant and rave about it at length and often. Times are hard these days and I find myself missing her and the days of old. I guess I’m trying to say is love all your people for what they are worth, they may not be there forever. I have learned this lesson and continue to pay for it daily.}

Shelly,

It’s been years since we were born. It’s been years since I have seen you last. I find myself wondering where you are or how you have been. I wonder how the world looks from your balcony. Does the sun shine as bright? Does the night sky hold wonder and dreams for you?

I wonder if you think of me. I know we think of you, our son and me. I remember being all we had. I remember the nights sitting up talking till the sun rose. I remember walking all over town with you under the night sky, hand in hand. I remember twenty dollars in spare change feeding us. I remember being together in my parents’ house. I remember living with you in my apartment.

I remember staring up in the Iraqi night sky wishing I was home with you. I remember telling all my fellow soldiers about you. I remember spending all my free time at the computer center to talk to you. I remember dreaming of returning to you. I remember the relief I felt marching into your arms after arriving home.

Mostly I remember loving you. Yeah my life has changed but I still miss talking to you. I remember the time you came to my work in the middle of the night just to talk to me. I remember visiting you at your work after leaving my work to spend your break with you. God I wish I could remember what you look like. The pictures in my mind have faded away to the ghost of memory.

I tell friends, lovers and our son about you. Nothing bad, just memories. I think I smile while I tell them. Now days I walk home alone with you.

I have been waiting for years to tell you that I love you and that I miss you but I don’t know where you are or how to reach you. I suppose this letter on my site is the equivalent of putting a message in a bottle. Feeling hope and doubt at the same time, standing on the shore watching the message drift off with the tide. Wondering, “will she read it?”; “will the bottle find her?” Hoping that the bottle will find her well, Dreaming of the tides guiding the bottle in the silvery moonlight to a distant shore. I wonder if someone else finds it will they keep it or read it and return it to the sea?

Well Michelle here is my message on my bottle; I love you! I miss you! Wherever you are, whatever you are doing I hope you find this and it finds you well. I wish it could be different but it won’t be different. It’s so hard here without you. I miss you…

I have visions of myself sitting in the loaders hatch of my tank under a night desert sky, with a bright silver moon hanging low. Staring at the distance I place this note in a bottle and pitch it over board as the tank starts to roll off towards the horizon.

-B

Death of a Gun Salesmen

[This is a true story]

[So a lots goin on these days with my son and my X-wife.  I found out that my X is questioning my son in an attempt to use his answers against me in court. I personally find it shoddy and unfair to my son. Despite all that I still find myself telling stories of my old family. I had to finally sit down and tell my son what was going on between us, stopping short of telling him why we are divorced. It was difficult on my son and me. Despite the hard times and anguish I still find myself telling stories about us.

This particular story I found myself telling to an audience at Sully’s high class wedding. To my amazement it kept people on the edge of their seats. This particular story is one of the most vivid memories of my divorce; I remember it like it happened yesterday. Everyone at the wedding enjoyed it and I for one hope you do too…]

I personally have been pretty damn sure that I was going to die before. Having served two tours in the Iraqi war in a tank had provided several near death experiences for me. That particular day in the gun shop was no different.

It was several months into my divorce and fully into the transformation of my wife. She had cut all her beautiful hair off and began dressing like a boy. I was still very much upset with the way events had -unfolded. To tell you the truth I think she was as well. I had my good days, a lot of days I was my usual non-sense spouting, gun selling fool. Other days I was less than optimistic about anything.

That particular day I was at my best. I was the assistant manager at a local gun shop and the manager was off that day. So we were blasting music and having a good time at work. The store had received a shipment that needed to be put on the shelves. I took on the task leaving Gordo and Lou-dawg to take care of customers while I worked.

I was happily in a far corner by the door unloading, pricing and shelving holsters listening to both the employees yell and pick on each other, in short I was thinking to myself “What a damn good day!” thankful that I wasn’t depressed that day. I then reached into the bottom of a deep box to recover product, my entire upper torso in the box when above Lou-dawg and Gordo’s banter I heard the tell- tale elk call door chime. Thinking I had both of the guys to cover me and service the customer I continued to remain half way in the box. As I continued grabbing items I began to notice that I could not hear talking anymore. Now if you are a parent you know that the first sign of trouble is quiet. To further the problem my back was to the door, and that’s just a bad combo. So I ripped myself out of the box and spun on my heels…

I gotta admit, I was prepared for a lot of things to be in front of me when I spun around. I however was not prepared to see my X-wife standing by the door. I had all kinds of sirens and alarms blaring in my head. My eyes shifted to the counter to her left and I saw an open mouthed Lou-dawg staring at her back in shock, Gordo standing by the back wall shacked as well staring. Everyone was in a state of shock.

She stood there staring at me, slightly bladed to the left. Her eyes never left me, I don’t even think she was blinking. She had an expression of stone and I thought to myself “Oh my God! This is it! It’s going down now!”  My mind began to race with the thoughts that my X had come to kill me.

I then realized that I was trapped, literally cornered. I was in a small box like corner and she had my only way out. “Holy shit she’s here to kill me!” flashed through my mind. As panic began creeping up I began to look for her hands to see if she had a weapon. At the shop we were all armed with firearms, I was wearing an M9 in an open top scabbard. I noted the fact that I was armed but to tell the truth the weapon was the farthest thing from my mind. I realized that whatever she did, I would let it happen, I could not, would not stop her. Slowly my hands began to raise palms towards her and I realized that I could not talk. I was convinced that I was a dead man, that the woman I loved, that had broken my heart had come back to take my life. Game over man! Game over!

Just when I thought I was done for, her face suddenly softened and instead of drawing a weapon and leaping at me, she began to cry. She held out her hands and walked up to hug me. She threw her arms around me and hugged me despite my hands being up. I stood there being embraced by my X-wife in a state of utter disbelief…

Time comes and goes, if things don’t stay the same then they will change. What happened that day is one of the last markers I have in time of my beloved Shelly. Things are way different now. Hell we don’t even speak anymore as she harbors some kind of resentment for me. She had changed and become someone else leaving me a Ghost of Memory. I will never know why she came that day or any of the other days she sought me out. These days I have made a kind of truce with what has happened and I will continue telling these fond memories…

-B