The knife

 One night in the late 80s we stopped at a convenience store to get gas. "We" being the wife and at that time two kids. Daughter was around five or six and son around one or two. 

As I approached the clerk to pay I noticed a man leaning back on a rack of oil cans probably a dozen feet at least from the clerk and wondered if said rack of oil cans were going to topple over. 

Paid the clerk cash, got gas and headed back to get change. 

Before reaching the clerk the oil can rack man appeared out of nowhere(he was no longer leaning against the rack) and started cussing me out. I looked into his eyes which were dark glazy and crazy looking. He was either on drugs, out of his mind or all of the above. 

His eruption of words included asking me why I cut in front of him!? My adrenaline was out the wazoo and I decided not to reason with insanity but to lie to it. I told him I did not see him and apologized.

Can't recall his next few words or mine but I do recall deciding within fractions of a second how I would defend myself should he attack me(and I felt it was going to happen).  The arms would go up, the body would go down and a leg would go to his stomach followed by whatever need be. 

Suddenly he lunged at me with a switchblade but quickly retreated back. He wanted to scare me which was most epically accomplished. "If I ever see you around here again I will cut your balls off!!"

Again an apology offered and he then walked off into the night.  The clerk got to keep my change seeing that I was back in the car faster than warp drive on Star Track!

Incredibly, I don't recall anything the wife or kids said. I know the wife saw it because she said something but the memory is more vague than vague.

Life was not always something I felt cut out to do but on that night I was happy to not be cut off from life.

Before the knife a funny slice of life

 When I write I tend to do so from strong emotion and/or an intense focus on a memory. Writing about LSD was painful because to a certain extent I had to "relive" it.  I didn't enjoy writing about it but glad I did. Writing about having a knife pulled on me and also the experience of being in a psychiatric hospital keep being delayed for a reason.  The latter will be an exhausting exercise. Stay tuned.

Now about the funny slice of life.

Well, back in the days of marriage to my first wife we had some next door neighbors we occasionally saw outside. Lawn mowing and whatnot.  They were an extremely quiet and reserved couple and without sounding too judgemental I must say they were quite nerdy looking in appearance. Quite nerdy. I think he was a computer guy of sorts. Maybe IBM. I really don't remember. 

One day Mr. Nerd came over after work in his nerdy suit and nerdy tie and asked us if we could watch their house while they went on vacation for a week? Would only entail feeding and watering  the dog and bringing in the mail. Well, dogs aren't watered but you catch the drift. Of course we said yes.

On that first day I grabbed the mail and entered the house. Fed and watered the dog. Yes I did. Not wanting to leave the lonely dog so quickly I found myself sitting down on Mr. and Mrs. Nerd's couch.  Looking at the television set and stereo next to it I spotted a vertical CD rack with some CDs in it. Not many, maybe ten or eleven, twelve. 

Curiosity may have killed the cat but the dog said go check out the CDs. So I did. 

There in release date order was the complete catalog of Led Zeppelin! And there were no other CDs, just the Zep. Yep.

Mr. and Mrs. Nerd(or at least one of them) were(was) closet fans to the Zep!  

My face would have cracked off my head if my smile had gotten any bigger. 

Great taste  in music but this left me Dazed and Confused.  Heehee.

A history of God and me part 21

 It's amazing how one remembered memory can trigger another. This one goes back, way back in time while I was living at the first house, either in the late 50s or early 60s, I do not know. A vague memory albeit quite intense and the feeling is easily remembered. They say feelings of an event are sometimes easier remembered than the event itself. Think about it. Remembering how a person makes you feel or felt can somehow be more resonating than anything else, even how they look or looked. And if it is God oriented perhaps even more so.

Laying in bed at a very early age and gazing at the window on a dark night I witnessed something incredible. To set the context my bedroom was at the side of the house(all were) and faced the side of our neighbors garage. To look at or out the window at night was to see only darkness as I recall. 

But on this night a bluish glow appeared around the window as if the window was framed in blue. It was incredibly beautiful and gave me a strong sense of peace. Could this be the occurrence of a young child's imagination? Perhaps. I am guessing I was four or five and such an age can have an active imagination. But...

...accompanying the surreal glow was a powerful sensation of being close to God. This feeling I remember most intensely. As much as I recall the blue glow(and I do) the intimate feeling of closeness to God is more vivid. Now, in those days I went to church with my family and hated it. Everything about it I hated. But this is something I treasured in that moment and each time it has been remembered in my lifetime(this is not the first recall) I treasure it.  

Never been one to have a calm disposition and as a child all I remember are deep insecurities. Insecurities which would plague me all of my life. But I in that moment or moments I felt a deep calm and happiness. All was well with the world and me.

Thank you God for that memory.

More about LSD

 The day after my first LSD experience(and one of 2 I think?) My head felt like it had been run over by a truck. Not so much of a headache as much as just frazzled. Thinking was not easy. 

One day a  few years later during my first year of college I was with my eventual fiancee and first wife.  I had a flashback. Yep. It lasted a few hours and was more than unnerving. Accompanied by hazy false colors and dark disorientation it is something I hoped would never happen again. And it didn't.

LSD is not something to play with. There is a reason it is called taking a trip but the problem is one is not always in control of the voyage. Why venture there at all?

Before the knife comes LSD

 Intended to blog on a not so wonderful knife event but today a memory surfaced in this old brain of mine and I can't refrain from writing about it.

Around 1972 or 73(I am guessing 73) I bought two tabs of Yellow Sunshine which was slang for a particularly popular form of LSD that hippies loved in the 60s, early 70s. I had never taken LSD but as an experimenter the idea sounded intriguing to me.

Picked up my friend(he was a pot smoking buddy too)at his house one morning on the way to school(daily carpool) and revealed the goodies.  We made it as far as campus(he lived only a few blocks away) but only drove around it before committing ourselves to going elsewhere. School would be skipped that day as we were going to take a trip. 

Subsequent to ingesting the yellow goodies we decided to smoke some pot to take the edge off things since it would be a while before the hippie stuff  hit our respective bloodstreams. The pot was strong and in no time we were already ascending.

This is where things go fuzzy. At some point we decided to drive out into the country and go east. I felt things were unsafe when I could no longer tell what color a light was at a given intersection. Oh, I could see greens, reds and yellows but what they signified escaped me at times!  And they were beginning to be accompanied by other colors!

Before that eastern excursion there was a must stop for gasoline. Yours truly and yours truly tripping at this point, went in to pay for gas. What I saw inside the store I will never know if  the vision was real, imagined or a combination. I suspect the latter.

 I extended a wad of cash to the clerk and a blue tinged midget held out a hand to receive it. Yeah. It gets worse.  His blue tinged arms were connected directly to his torso! There were no arms between the shoulders and elbows. It was as if the elbows were attached at said torso. Scary. How would you feel handing over cash and receiving change from a blue midget with deformed arms and not knowing if he were real or not?

Strangely enough, I don't recall any of the eastern excursion into the country other than at some point we decided to turn around before we got lost. Yep. Next up we were at the beautiful lake close to where I lived and worked. We decided to drive around it slowly. 

By this point things were more than heavy. We were in full blown trip mode and the best way I can describe it is as an extremely surreal dream. It was as if we had transcended into a wonderful land full of colors, reflections and all manner of intense amazement that words really just don't capture. My friend and I had ventured down the rabbit hole.  Would we see Alice?

 At what I recall as being the peak of my enjoyment, things got scary. "Did you see that", said the other rabbit hole occupant with a fearful tone of voice. "See what"?  "The ground opened up and laughed at me!" I said "yes" to pacify my rabbit hole partner but his fear created fear in me. Madness was upon us!

As I vacillated back and forth between watching the lake road and my increasingly fearful friend I noticed his eyes. They were lost. He was lost. More and more his mumbles about this and that became unintelligible. Then I could not comprehend him at all. He began to write on paper to communicate(thank God for school supplies). Everything he wrote(that which made sense) scared the hell out of me. He was having a bad trip.  My own good trip was gone as the only thing I could focus on was him now.  He was not calm. 

When he could no longer communicate by mouth or pencil I decided to head to the hospital. Scary, scary stuff. He was now paralyzed, frozen in his seat. Gone. I really wished Alice would show up. As I got nearer to the hospital he shrieked and the closer I got the louder he became. It was more than obvious he didn't want to go in and how was I going to get a paralyzed, shrieking at ear piercing levels person out of the car and into the hospital? The dream had become a nightmare. 

Inspiration. Maybe if I went to the grocery store where I worked I could get some advice from another pot smoking, drug taking friend. I knew he worked the day shift so I pulled in and watched the doors waiting for him to bring out a customers groceries(they did that in those days). Suddenly he came out and I waved him down.

He took his 15 minute break and the two of us somehow got him out of the car to stand up. Amazing. Mr. Grocery Store friend started telling jokes and it became apparent that Mr. Paralyzed friend could now take small steps. Hmmm. We slowly walked behind the store and then we started hearing little bits of giggling.Giggles became laughter!  He came out of it!  Back to the car and off to our respective homes!

Later my girlfriend asked "where were you and so and so all day?" She had no clue I smoked pot let alone do anything else. Not wanting to lie to her because after all I was an honest guy, went to church with her and she was so sweet. So I told her the truth. 

We went to the lake today.

Before the knife comes a surprise.

 Soon there will be a blogging on a wonderful experience of having a knife pulled on me back in the 1980s. But first I digress.

A surprise. 

Long ago in the 6th grade I had a wonderful teacher who was both very strict and very passionate. Very conservative yet very liberated. Make sense? Good.

One day she passed an object around the classroom and asked us to each handle it  and try to guess what it was. Everyone did but no one could uncover the mystery.

The object was smaller than a baseball but not perfectly spherical. It was an asymmetrical "ball" and if  memory serves me correctly(operative word being "if") it had a dull light grayish coloration to it. 

Again, everyone had handled said mystery. Again, no one could guess said mystery.

The teacher revealed what it was. Drum-roll.

Cow cud.

A skunk between the legs

 Back in the early seventies yours truly worked at a grocery store before the days of trash compactors. I did the usual sacking of groceries, stocking of isles and handling of a cash register. In addition to that yours truly took his turn in rotation going into a large trash bin behind the store and physically pushing the days trash to the rear. In other words a human trash compactor.

One night about half an hour before my shift was over I took my turn at human trash compactor. Suddenly a strong odor of skunk filled the air. Much too strong for comfort! Looking down between my shoes was the twitching nose of a skunk looking up at me in all its black and white glory! In fractions of a second(which cannot be measured)the fear of being bitten and subsequent rabies possibilities, the fear of being sprayed(not knowing I already had been) and the thought of what should I do all went through my mind. 

In rapid foot fashion I made an attempt at kicking said skunk to Hades. However by the time said rapid foot fashion occurred, a not so heavenly skunk avoided Hades in rapider than rapid exit, escaping across a field. Can anyone say that last statement is wordy? Angst and adrenaline ridden I utilized fast arm fashion propelling a large rock at exiting varmint. I did. I also missed by miles.

Feeling dampness on my jeans and a smell that would clear sinuses faster than jalapeno peppers, I knew it had gotten me. Yours truly was sprayed by a skunk. 

For some reason they let me go home early that night.

For some reason I went to a good friends house whose mother would not let people in her dining room because nothing and/or nobody was going to disturb her immaculate home.

For some reason I thought it would be funny to smell up her house.

For some reason I was in my good friend's room less than a minute before I was sent home. 

For some reason three washings of the contaminated jeans in tomato paste actually removed the smell. 

For some reason I prefer not to ever encounter a skunk again.

Have you ever...

 ...been sprayed by a skunk? I have. Have you ever had a knife pulled on you at a convenience store? I have. Have you ever been in a psychiatric ward of a hospital?  I have. These and more I am considering blogging about in the future. Have some other ideas but stay tuned for these wonderful memories. 

Life is...

 Life is good, life is beautiful, life is bad, life is ugly. All of this and what do we see? What do we experience? What do we choose to see and experience?  No one said life was easy. No one. Only the deluded would claim the same. "Find purpose in your pain." was my daughter's favorite expression.I have that taped up nearby and it is a constant reminder to pursue that which is meaningful and important. That's the quest for the rest of my life.  RIP Pumpkin Pie.

A history of God and me part 20

 Wow. August 9th, 2007 was the last post in this series. How does one catch up with the past 14 years? How?  Well, I went back and reread the entire series(blog for that matter). Interesting and enlightening but I'm not interested in a bunch of posts now to catch up. Nor is it necessary. Much can be summarized in a few words with the exception of 2010 and this year.

So, a  summary of 2007 to the present with the exceptions of 2010 and 2021: God was mostly absent from my life. Not going to church, not going to a recovery program, rarely praying, rarely doing anything of a spiritual nature. What else? Isn't that enough. Oh, and I stayed crazier than a lunatic. Basically just existing. Work, eat, sleep with the latter never being quality or enough, Relationships with others. Mostly nill. If I was a recluse before I was a recluse after. Yep.

2010. This is when I stopped blogging. My oldest sister passed away in November of that year.  Painful. Opened my eyes. Death seems to do that with a reminder of the brevity of life and what is really important. Decided to continue calling my parents weekly(as I had been the last few weeks of her life). Prior to this I rarely called them. Could go months without doing so. I went years without seeing them in the early part of the millennium.  My other sister I rarely talked to and although I had good intentions of calling her regularly I did not make those good intentions happen.  God was not in my life. Not at all.

2021. Entered the year being estranged from my daughter that I had been quite close to when she was very young.  No point in details so let's just say again, we were estranged. Our last contact on social media was in April of 2020 and last visit in person was fall of 2018.  Estranged.

In February of this year a hard freeze knocked the power out for several days and for some reason that changed all the routines. No power for days does that I suppose. Reading books in the daytime was a prime event. Read 'Tuesdays With Morrie' by Mitch Albom. I cannot recommend this book enough. A professor dying of cancer meets with a favorite student weekly on Tuesdays to discuss life, priorities, and to share his simple but profound wisdom. 

Wake up call. Made a to do list with reconciliation to my daughter at the top of the list. Began praying daily for the same to happen(some days I did not pray but when I did she was always in my prayers). But every time I thought of drafting a carefully worded email or text(a call was not in the cards because I felt it would be disastrous)I hit the brick wall of fear that it would only make things worse. As bad as it was I did not want to make things worse. Perhaps makes no sense to you but did to me. 

Had not been healthy for some time(multiple issues) and the fear of not being able to work anymore( I was missing many many days this year due to mental and physical issues)I decided to retire. Now comes May and I was thinking ok, I am retired, I will find a way to reconcile to my daughter. I have time now and no excuses. And more relaxed by not working. But did I pray enough? No. Again when I did she was always included in those prayers. Did I take action with a text, email, a draft of some sorts? No. Can anyone say procrastinator?

June 7th, a day I will never forget. Youngest sons birthday so when I saw my ex had called  I just assumed she was calling to tell or remind me of his birthday. Seemed odd. Returned the call in which she said she had some bad news. I asked how bad and she said very bad. My daughter had rear-ended  an 18 wheeler that morning and died at the scene.

Writing this now brings it all back. But I am not sure there any words that accurately described the pain of losing a child.  I loved that sweet girl, estrangement and all. Now there would be no reconciliation. 

It did take not long for me to get quite angry at God. Not long at all. Let's put what happened into a perspective. I had been praying for reconciliation and she is killed in an auto accident. And she dies on her youngest brothers birthday, she dies four days before her mothers birthday, and she dies six days before her youngest daughters birthday!! What the fuck!? What the hell!?  Seems crueler than cruel. 

Anger. Grief. Shock. All of that in no particular order swirling around in my head and spirit. But I knew I had to be there for my sons and others. So I started praying constantly that the right thing be done and that some clarity could be found. I have long believed that good comes from bad. It can and does if we do our part.We may not always recognize it but it is a truth. 

My oldest son and I have gotten closer. My surviving sister and I have gotten closer. A couple of old friendships have been renewed. I am interested in both going to church and a recovery program again(sober 26 years now). However, I am not sleeping much being awake all night most nights. This and social anxiety are barriers at the moment. I seem to sleep away the days. But I remain optimistic.  I want to do something productive with my life to help others. This is what my daughter did and I want to mirror that to the best of my and Gods abilities. Is God limited?   No.

What about God? What about those prayers for reconciliation? My daughter had a deep faith in God and believed in heaven. I too believe in heaven and am working on faith one day at a time. There will be a reconciliation. God had different plans, heaven.  I so believe that. Some may think that is wishful thinking. No, it's faith based on an evidence of Him who came to reconcile mankind to himself many years ago. Jesus. 

These days I am amazed, enthralled at simple moments of walking outside and feeling a winds breeze push by me or gazing at amazing old trees where I live. A captivating blue sky can blow me away. Nature has become more vibrant in my life. Simple pleasures, simple observations. A clear night sky reveals heavens splendor. 

I long to join my daughter some day in heaven and finally be reconciled.

Zooty and other random thoughts...

 So I thought today a comment appeared to be approved by yours truly from Zooty of Long Ago Land. Showed up in Gmail only to disappear and I did not delete it! What?  Cannot find any said comment to approve or not. Am I completely losing my mind? I prefer to lose it only partially.

Zooty, contact me! I would love to talk to you again after all these millions of years of not doing the same!

A random or not so random thought. I am thinking about how best to approach A history of God and me part 20.  I don't want it to become a lot more parts to get to the present and outside of this year much can be summarized(I think) in a few words.  Stay tuned for post contemplation post. 

Other random thoughts. I have none. I lied. I just want Zooty to contact me! :)

Why are you reading this? I said I have none.

I hate Instagram...

 ...I do. For the life of me I cannot figure it out. Have had an account for years and only posted one original entry(I think). There are very few icons and it seems so user unfriendly. I only know how to follow people. Well, today I learned how to block people. Heehee. I cannot figure out how to make a new post or do anything. Oh, I do know how to like, love a posting, whatever and send a message. But I hate Instagram. I can never stay on it more than a few minutes. Would love to post photos of all the telescopes I have but am clueless on how to do the same. I hate Instagram. Old dogs don't want to learn new tricks. No. Did I mention I hate Instagram?

Washed away(from March 3, 2008)

Sitting on a rock gazing around as waves crash upon remnants

Waves caught up in the stormy catastrophic current

Waves captured by destiny's natural ways

The rock holding firmly its weight as fragile remains dissolve

Fragility losing it's hold upon integrity of substance

Fragility losing hold of destinys dooming ways

Bleeding(from 11-23-2007)

Perhaps reduced to memories now as bleeding continues?

I've bled and bled and bled but cannot bleed any more

I die a little more inside each time I witness public venues

The thorn cuts into my disregarded soul, an open sore

An act of love it is not, when cut after cut make the cut

An act of love it is not, if by default, not by desire to love

My temper flared(draft from 2007)

There was a time in my life when I did not show much anger or rarely showed it at best. There was a time in my life when I showed little emotions of any kind or rarely at best. Life for me consisted of repression. Quite, shy , the kid who rarely spoke , that was me. High school altered that somewhat. Or rather mind altering drugs in high school altered that somewhat. I was actually even a quiet drunk most of the time so my drinking career, which ended in October of 94, did not alter my reserved makeup so much. In fact on the contrary, drinking only allowed me to run from problems and allowed for further repression. 

  Enter twenty plus years of a bad marriage and we are talking repression city with respect to me. It is hard for me to fathom now that I rarely got mad at my first ex even though at one point I hated her. But I rarely did. I held my thoughts and feelings in. It seemed what was in my head or heart would only make a bad situation worse. We are talking repression city folks. Then in late 94 I took my last drink. I began to feel. It was hell stopping. What I felt inside was a major reason it was hell stopping. I began to slowly but surely feel. Slowly I was coming to life. Good feelings, bad feelings, all were rising to the surface and making themselves known.

 Over the next couple of years people at work would make comments on how I had changed in a good sort of way. Then in summer 97 I met who would become my second wife. She very much acted as a catalyst in continuing the "emotional surfacing" trend I had been experiencing after 38 some years of deadness inside. She had her own set of problems emotionally but I loved her and it seemed her me. Crying became possible watching commercials on TV. Outburst of anger also became possible while being raged upon. She had a problem of inappropriate anger leading to rage sometimes. It was a fear based problem. Occasionally she would rage at me and I would fire back. That is I did once I learned how to fire back. But I fired back. It was not a healthy thing nor pleasant. For the first time in my life it seemed I found myself talking back to someone with any degree of strength. The problem is I developed an anger problem in the process or I should say my anger was surfacing and being released in a not so good way and usually accompanied by colorful words that were capable of hurting, sometimes deeply. At times I became enraged at her. One time during an extremely heated fight she asked me, "why have you become so mean" ? I instantly looked her squarely in the eyes and told her, "I had a good teacher". End of fight. It was over. 

  We divorced in the summer of 99. The impact of having known her continue to this day. Emotions continue to be a part of my life as opposed to the old days of repression. It is a direct result of knowing her that I even write. Now I no longer get as angry or as often as I did in those late 90's but anger can rear its ugly head in me. Oh yes it can. And it has. It has. I've learned via both 12 step recovery and therapy that underneath most forms of anger is fear. I believe that. 

Last night I got immensely angry. I said awful things. The past few days I had been more than a little fearful. As wonderful as it is to feel alive and full of emotions sometimes I wish I could go back to simpler times. Go back to dullsville where nothing was felt. Getting angry is one thing. Dumping that all over another is another. Today I feel badly. There are no words to undo what has been said or in the venomous way in which it was said. My anger and words have hurt someone that I feel strongly for, that I care more than just deeply for. Two sides to every story? That's what they say. But I am only concerned right now with my side. My side sucks. And it sucks more than a little. Perhaps I am better off remaining alone. I seem to hurt most those I love the most.

A night of dreams, years ago(at least prior to May of 2014)

  Years ago and at least prior to May of 2014(date I moved into present apartment), I experienced a night of dreams with some being quite nightmarish. The odd thing is I rarely remember dreams but oddly I remembered having five, three of which I wrote about on scratch paper, the other two I forgot about after recording the first three. Another thing recalled is these dreams woke me up in the middle of the night and there was no going back to sleep! Work was not fun later on.

Verbatim from the scratch paper whether it makes sense or not:

Dream #1: My grandmother showed up as I was losing my mind and getting lost(I kept getting lost in crowds of people). She was somewhat coherent but frightening. Kept happening over and over. I would suddenly be somewhere and have no clue where I was. I cried. ......, my ex and kids kept finding me.

Dream#2:  My daughter in this same dream: a huge crowd of people came and told me she was dying. I could not run fast enough, I could not run! I saw here standing there, being lifted from a well. Someone threw her in a well after an auto accident and tremendous fear and anger struck me. After lifting her out she just stood there screaming and screaming and it woke me up. Two guys with casts on stood nearby badly hurt. I was going to go after them if they had hurt her but wouldn't my daughter have needed attention?

Dream#3: Steve McQueen sitting on a couch as an old man with long hair. I said nothing. I left him alone but I saw him as another human. All of a sudden he mentioned the stars, constellations. Door opened. "I too am an amateur astronomer". He shared some deep stuff which shocked me. That usually does not happen. We talked as two people do that have something in common.

Well...

...it's going to happen. What is? This blog is going to be active again! Like anyone reads it now. lol.  A few days ago I indicated I was back and the past few days been reading the blog, correcting grammar mistakes(finally said screw that, it takes too much time since I make a lot of mistakes), deleting silly drafts, deleting highly personal posts(too personal) and just in general having a gas with it. There will be a history of God and me part 20 soon!  Will recap 2007 to 2021. 14 years. Might take more than just a part 20. Hmmmm...

Hello again old blog...

 Well, well, well. It's been over ten years since I've posted but time has told me it's time to post again. Stay tuned. I am going to revisit the old postings first before going forward. Have perused some already and it is odd to read old writings, especially old poetry not remembered being written. Stay tuned...