Hum Hallelujah

[I wrote this a long time ago]

[OK, so the story goes like this, the night before my wedding I was still trying, rather desperately to write my vows. I was sitting in my Dads study with Weapon X and Chauk staring at a blank screen. The clock was ticking and early the next morning was the ceremony. You'll notice that "drawing a blank" was written in the vows. That was an old trick of mine to break writers block. Needless to say it worked and the vows before you were read to the guests.

I always viewed wedding vows as an oath. You swear before God and the guests which are family/friends as well as the foreign kid of what you intend to do. I was a young kid with nothing about to marry the object of my desire. I think I wanted to show her what I was worth. I like to think that I upheld my oaths but that would be like debating who fired "the shot heard round the world". Point in being is that I attempted to live up to it till that fateful day.

Anyway a lot of people liked my vows and its a literary work from yours truly, therefore I submit them for your enjoyment.]

drawing a blank

I don't have much to give

I don't know if I can ever buy you a car or house

I don't know if I'll ever be able to buy you diamonds or jewels

I don't know if I'll ever be able to buy you all the things that other people believe to make them wealthy

But I will give you this in exchange for your love

I will love you, forever will you be beautiful in my eyes

I will love our children, forever will they be my pride

I will never hurt you, Forever will be my shame

I will never hurt our children, forever will be my pain

I will never betray you, forever will be my dishonor

I will never betray our children, forever will be my guilt

Somethings are not worth fighting for, but you and our children are.

God in his wisdom has created me imperfect and I have told you this. being with you makes me want to strive for perfection and for you I will do this. I only ask patience for my quest continues in this life

I want you to know that I am willing to cross the spans of time to be there for you and our children

open the past, the present and the future, that all I've got and I'm giving it to you...

[early fall of 2006 the  Roman Catholic Church released me from the above vows.]

Declaration of war.

[This is my first work of fiction here.]

[I'm not really sure where the inspiration for this story came from. The whole idea is that a leader of a tormented nation finally decides to take action and sends his armies to war. When I was thinking/designing this story the images that came to mind were of a bunch of tanks speeding through the desert night in a company wedge formation with troop carriers following behind. I pictured the crew of one tank, grim faced, anxious listening to the declaration over the radio. I also saw Troops marching on either side of a highway, rifles in hand walking to the horizen as jeeps and other assorted vehicles drive down the road between them. I saw Police and armed civilians patrolling residential blocks determined to defend their loved ones and homes should the night fail.

It was a moving thought that I finally decided to put down on digits for you. I hope you like it]

Once again this is a countries leader speaking to his people and soldier as they go to war.

" Several years ago this beautiful nation was invaded, The enemy came to us in the night and using the darkness was succesful in dividing our small piece of the world. The mauraders took half our nation from us and during the defense, we settled in,reeling we fended of the invaders losing half the country.

Determined to continue life we accepted this new life. You, my brave people have pushed on to rebuild the loss of war and we were sucessful. But the new border was not enough for the enemy.

Over the years the enemy has been coming across our borders, stealing into the night. Raiding our cities, Attacking our people, police and armies.Harrasing attacks over time has begun to errode our new way of life like cement over a sunflower, smothering, conquering.

This is where I have failed you. I have only ever allowed our forces to drive off the mauraders. I have never allowed our men to cross the border. I have believed way too much in our new boundries that I have let the meanace in the night steal from us, to take our dignaty and life from us at no cost to them. I have spent too long allowing those who took from us to trample us.

Today with a heavy heart I have ordered a counter-attack.we will not only push the raiders back across their own border but we will invade their county. When we drive them to the heart of their new nation, we will stop, for we have shown them our border.Then we will return home to man our own lines.

There can be no true winner in this war.this war will be fought in our cites, in our homes and we will have to rebuild. even if we are sucessfull new challenges will arise. Putting our little nation back together will be our first priority and it will require a lot of work that I believe we are up to the task.

If we should fail, If we should not win the night, if our sons and daughters are stopped cold, remember this; That we have all stood together hand in hand and drew a line in the sand and shouted to the maurders in the night " ENOUGH!!! THE LINE IS HERE!!!" No longer will we worry about the fate of our children. We will have shown the enemy that we are no longer "free' that to have done this will have cost something. The enemy will remember our sweat, our tears and our blood. If we are conquered then the surviviors will remember the price of freedom and that even in losing somethings are definitely worth the cost.

My people, even a sunflower can break concrete to survive, to show the world above its pretty bloom. I believe that we can win the day or Vanish into the night trying.

Pray my people and I will see you in the new dawn..."

-B

A legend in my spare time.

Many, Many moons ago in a much different time here in Abq,NM a skate shop called "The Junkyard" opened up. The shop opened up in Cottonwood mall, the latest of malls to open here. The skating Community was all abuzz with this knowledge, that and the fact that the shop was accepting videos for A,B and Flow sponsorship. ANYBOHDY Projects was busy cranking out videos for all these kids not to mention our own team members to give out.


Well ashamedly I was one of those persons with my sights set on the limelight. I mean come on, it was every skaters dream to get on a team. I could see my self going places with this. I got my Teammates to film me and I cranked out a good video. Well at least I liked it. Finally sucking it up I marched into the store and handed them my Video.

Well I didnt make it. I'm not really sure why. Possible that I wasn't good enough or even cool enough. So after recieving the news I went to Carrows where alot of people hung out. I was drinkin my usual coke when something peculiar happened.


Now if anything "peculiar" happened at Carrows it was ussually Flint's doing. This time was no exception. Flint came charging into the smoking section[shows how long ago it was] carrying his board and with his Backpack known as "Jerry". He ran to my usual table sat down and produced a ciggarette, lit it and as he blew out the smoke of his first drag he said to me "Tony, you could never be sponsored..."


Ok, That was an immediate kick in the nuts. I sat there in disbelief staring at Flint as he took his second drag and as he blew out the smoke he said to me..


"You are not a big enough of an asshole to be sponsored!.."


When he finished he sat there looking me in the eyes, smiling as he flicked his ashes into the ashtray. All I managed was..


"What?"


With a bigger smile he went on to explain that if I had been sponsored all the fun would stop. Me and Flint, hell the rest of the PROJECTS were local heros not because of status or sponsorship but because we upheld the idea of skating. We would rule all the obstacles beneath all professional and sponsored skaters. It was what we thrived on. Flint said that if I got sponsored we would be above all the little obstacles and spots that made us.


There was a lot of debate as to why I never went pro and in the end it was Flint. That day when he ran up, he made me realize that not everything is meant to be. I wanted to be Pro like it was everyones dream but in reality all I wanted to do was skate. After that day I took skating to a different level. I continued to skate but it took a different priortiy as it officially became a pastime for me. The next day as I skated, It was like I was above the pro's as my beloved sport was not a bread winner. I could still feel the Impact my skating had on people. I had become a legend in my spare time.


-B

The End of the Circle.

So a long time ago I heard my aunt refering to the end of the circle and that it is time to start a new one. Well a circle has just ended for me. Shes gone, left, packed up and followed her boyfriend to points east. once again she has found someone to pay for her and to give her the things she wants. I hope she finds happiness and all the things she wants out there. Its funny as she started acting like when she first left me again a few months ago, It confused the hell outta me. Then she asked for a meeting with me and after all business was taken care of she got upset that I left without talking to her. she was wearing make up.

I dont really suppose thats what matters. I suppose one of us had to be able to trot though life carefree after the divorce. All I wanted was my son. I remember the intense sorrow, pain and depression that led to the "Emo" man before you. How much has changed? and at what cost? My son and me have been through a lot for nothing. For a completely absurd reason our lives have been jumbled and forever changed.

The problem with the end of the circle is this, Does a circle ever really end? can you change a circle path? and a circle always passes the same points again and again. Thats its nature, it never ends. I see trouble in my path, I myself have watched a precious member of my family taken from me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was horrible, I will not lose my precious son to the ages of nothing and the silly reasoning of a pervese generation.

I sit here now looking to the mountains, a permanent monument to the east, always bordering Albuquerque. Its "where the sidewalk ends" so they say. I have heard tell that on the other side of the mountain is a cliff, that all people who drive away on the other side of the mountain fall off and never come back. I hope she finds what she wants and I hope to be able to grow old with my son...
-B

THE DAY CHESTY PULLER DIED.

[ The article you are about to read was my first ever written. I wrote it while deployed to Qatar, post 9/11. I spent most of that year in Kuwait or Qatar. when i was writing this My Battle Buddy Scott was waiting patienty for me to finish. I ripped the article from yahoo and decided to leave it the way it was. It wasalso written during my first deployment from my wife.]



>Everybody when they were young had a
> hero. Heros before 9/11 were really scarce, let
> alone survive when people who held them dear "grew
> up". I remember having so much faith in superheros
> until the day I learned that the world is a hollow
> place. Everything changed that day, I never realized
> that a simple fact,even a truth would have such an
> impact in my life. Most of who I became is because
> of that fateful day and it will always remain with
> me.
>
> Actually my hero wasnt a single person
> but a multitude of people. My heros were the United
> States Marines. Marines were my heros, my idols,
> everything I wanted to be. They were like Knights in
> shining armor. Honor, Glory, God was their name,
> Their tradition. I had visions of Marines fighting
> battles, wars to right the wrong , free the
> oppressed. Every Marine to me was a friend, a person
> to respect.
>
> I suppose most of the reason I felt
> that way was because my father was a Marine. Not
> only was he a Marine he was their elite, a super
> Marine. My father as a Gunnery Sergeant in Force
> Recon was "THE" Marine, like Chesty Puller. he was
> [is] tough, mean, nasty, tired , he ate Cassitina
> wire for breakfast and could put a round in a fleas
> ass at 500m. His Companions were all like that, the
> elite, Recon Marines . People who had no fear,
> jumped from the skies, swam through the seas, and
> Died on distance shores to right the wrong and to
> free the oppressed. I ve seen Marines and i held
> them all dear. Marines dont die, the Marine Corp
> lives forever, so they will always live.
>
> THE DAY CHESTY PULLER DIED i was in
> my bedroom. I was 11 at the time, I was reading a
> newspaper having been bored reading the comics
> sometimes I read the news. On that fateful day Two
> marines were found guilty of raping a woman in
> Japan. I was in utter dismay, The most henious crime
> committed by Two of my sacred heros. In my mind it
> wasnt possible for those knights to do that. I felt
> that it was obviously a set up, that justice had
> failed these Marines, that they had came to her
> rescue and had been mistakingly charged with the
> crime. I did the only thing I knew to do, I took the
> newspaper and ran downstairs to my father. My father
> would hear of this outrage jump up get on the phone
> and try to save his brother Marines from this
> tradgedy.
>
> I told my story to my father, but he
> didnt jump up. he just sat there. I still remember
> the look on my mothers face at that moment I was
> trying to bring justice to my brother Marines. My
> father simply replied in a low voice " they did it."
> . Iremember his face and my Mothers as i said "But
> they are Marines ?" like he didnt understand the
> importance of the situation, like I didnt say
> "MARINES" and in the same low voice he replied "
> Tony, They werent real Marines." I remember that
> when he said it, he didnt look at me. In a state of
> shock I took my newspaper and walked slowly back to
> my room, sat down and realized the there are no
> heros left in this world, the only heros left were
> graves with the Marine Corp emblem on them.
>
> I like to think that the reason Dad
> never look at me that day was so that he wouldnt
> have to watch Chesty Puller as he died beside me.
> that fateful day I lost my Faith in the Marine Corp
> and decided that I would never be one. In fact i
> spent 8 or so years running from the military. Thing
> just were not the same with out my heros. I cant say
> that I blame Dad , I never wanted to watch Chesty
> die in my room but i did. Its funny why does growing
> up always require a tradgedy.Its just not fair to
> all the Marines that were my heros, but truth is
> what killed them. I realized that the world is an
> evil place and i grew indifferent to that sense of
> honor that I once had, and being in the modern
> military I wish i still had it. THE DAY CHESTY
> PULLER DIED I learned what it was like to grow up, it takes pain, maybe thats why I >fought it for so long.In the middle of a deployment to preserve freedom after 9/11 all I >can say is I really miss Chesty Puller.
-B

The Giant Steps and the culture caper.

[This is a true story]

There are so many lines dividing all of us. Cliques, race,creed,nationality, hell even at some point what you wear can seperate you. If you're skinney or overweight set you apart. Everyone [ by "everyone' I mean "somepeople"]talks about unity and all together "one-ness" but who really means it. Racist is bad and if you listen to enough people you will discover that everyone is racist.

People who are obviously better spellerz and more intelligent than me talk about unifing princibles. Like Mathmatics links us all ooooor all children fear the dark. I'm pretty sure there's more but I cant help thinking about one link. That is what todays story is about.

Now its no secret that I was a skateboarder. A bigger secret might be that I grew up listening to Hip-hop or pop if you are a gangsta rappa. I liked the beats and flow, to be honest if my mexican ass could dance I woulda to all that but apparently dance was not in my genetic code. When i became a skater Andy, who was my mentor dissaproved. Like all skaters of the year 1990[?] he listened to punk. Wanting to fit in I delved into the likes of Bad Religion, Dead Kennedys and the descendants. I listened to my old Hip-hop and my new punk. Eventually I found one of my main genre of musk "Pop-punk".

Many years ago while running the "Projects" as a "legitimate" business, Greg came to see me when I worked at a Weinerschnitzel. He had a dire need for a video to graduate High school. I agreed to make it in return for two tickets to "the Edgefest", a local music festival that came to town. My non-blood brother, Dave came up from El paso everynow and again to Skate and hang. A days worth of concerts would be something to write home about. So the video was made and I recieved my payday.

Now to be honest at the Time I hated Ska.Chuck Ryan had a girlfriend at the time who absolutely loved Ska. She would pick on me and use peer-pressure tactics to try to get me to listen to her music. Being completely stuck on Green Day did not help her case. I using my notorious stubbornness refused to entertain her or Ska.

That particular year it turned out that the second/local stage was more rocking than the main stage.  Ironically It turned out that "The Giant Steps" was playing that year. The Giant Steps were a local favorite ska-band. That particular day changed my life forever.

I believe the band "Elephant" just got done playing and the Giant Steps were announced. I think that the mainstream band was one that I did not care for, so me and Dave opted to stay.the band came out and began to play. I have to admit that I liked it. they were different. They were not wearing Zoot suits, they were wearing normal clothes. They totally dominated the crowd with the best cover ever of "Brown eyed girl". I was completely and utterly moved by the music and the atmosphere of the crowd.

It was then that I noticed it. I stopped "dancing" and looked at the crowd. I was up at the stage looking back at all the people. I saw skaters, regular people, metal heads people in cowboy hats and people in ICP shirts, all dancing together. There was no one just standing around, they were all dancing or jumping to the music. All different kinds of people with different opinion and attitudes all brought together by the Giant Steps and music.

The rest of the Edgefest didnt seem the same afer The Giant Steps finished playing. People melted back to what was originally there. Drifing back to their ways and the path of self. I kept hoping that another band would pick up the torch, but none did or could. I took the memory home and have treasured it ever since. After that I had also developed a fondness for Ska and Ska-punk.

For once in my life I had seen the lines that divide us blurred away by music which in my opinion is preferrable to the boogyman.

-B

The French connection.

[This is a true story]


So a few years back when my wife left me she used to call me and bitch me out all the time. I wish I could say I deserved it, maybe I did. I hear that its normal for X's to do that. she'd call and yell at me for the sun going down, she'd bitch me out for the moon rising and for her leaving me, I mean literally whatever. Hell I think I got it once because her friends were being mean and once twice for her having a bad day at work. Once I got a call from her on christmas eve cause she wanted to kill herself and then she got mad cause I tried to talk to her, to motivate her and then I got it from my X-fiancee, damn I cant win.


Well this particular story is about a phone call I had recieved once from my X-wife.

My mother has a real problem with Impulse shopping and an even bigger problem with her Odd sense of humor. Well one time at Wally World my mom bought a new phone for the house. It's cordless, has Caller I.D. and it talks. It'll give a really bad version of the name of the incoming caller. Interestingly enough with the flick of a switch it'll try to pronounce your name in a foreign language.


Well my mother one day woke up and decided that the phone needed to speak French. So "Blam" with a flick of the switch my family moved up in class as people whom met the answering machine were greeted in a fancy european accent, known for eating snails, white flags and uber horny skunks, Thats class!!!


Apparently my X-wife had called to speak to my son or maybe even my mom and had been greeted with French. I dont know what she was thinking but she called me to find out just exactly what was going on.


Her:" Have you called your parents phone"
ok, Already this is an interesting question, why would you call yourself at home?
Me:"No."
Her" Well the machine answered in french"
Like she never knew my mom, mom's always doing weird stuff.
Me:"ok."
she hated the fact that I answered in monosylables.
Her:"why is the Phone in french?"
what kinda question is that? like we joined the french resistance? or like we are a French sleeper cell hellbent on bad accents and berets for all? weirdo!
Me: "How the F#@k would I know"
Her:"Did they move"
Like they moved to france? its the American dream.That and we obviously got to keep our phone number.
Me:"no"
Her:' then why is their phone speaking French?"
Me:" I dunno, It's their phone if they want it to speak French then it will speak French."
Her:" oh, I thought they had moved, hahahahaha!"
Me:" Well mom does weird things from time to time."
Her:"ok, well I'll talk to you later."
what was that? some kinda threat?
Me:"Ok."


It just goes to show that in some neighborhoods crack is cheaper than others. The funny part was that mom later walked up to me giggling about the fact that she decided that the phone was French and that she had heard the message that the X-wife had left. Apparently she was unsure as if it was the right number.Mom said she had done it to see what would happen if the phone spoke french.


Of all the phone calls I recieved during the course of my divorce that one was the most memerable, possibly the most pleasant. It was a real trying time for me and despite all that I could see the "off the wall" of it. The calls have died away to nothing or to pass the phone to my son. Whatever Contact there is, is too brief and formal to be interesting anymore. Time has moved on to hidden resentment and formal politeness.


These days I have stepped in line to walk amungst the dead and I spend my days looking for the interesting surreal that adds color and spice to the day.


Mother on the other hand will entertain herself if you don't entertain her.


-B