12/27/11 - God's Eye

Late morning the sky of God's eye was covered with clouds. The weather channel said wind advisory in it's monotone font. The palm trees swayed and sprinkles fell. I pressed the on button of the coffee pot as mom and me finished the puzzle started back before Christmas- before the trip to Roanoke.
The parking lot was vacant except for puddles collected by God's watery eyes from yawning which blew the reef down. Dad was still sleeping as the coffee pot dripped as well.
The stereo played swing music quietly. The speakers spoke in a whisper as mom opened the blinds. Piece by piece the sky was created on the puzzle with a purple blueish tent. Occassionally we lifted our heads to watch the old man storming. Is he angry or just well rest as the ones inside yawned their last yawns after their first sips of coffee.
Dad awoke determined for coffee. He sat down beside me to fill in the sky of the puzzle.
The three of us eventaully finished the puzzle as the twinkle of GOd's eye started to show outside while the clouds rolled back. The winds died down. The surf of the beach saturated by the ocean and rain as we viewed the completed puzzle.

Inlet Point Villa 12/20/11

The new paint job brings with it the classic radio station, but the workers are quiet. JUst three buildings now with the instituionalized grey. The rest of the buildings have the new colors. To my left the shades have a dry sand covering them a reddish marroonish on the rooftops. The new colors shines with the sun, and doesn't hide it like the old grey similar to storm clouds use to.
The walkway connecting the buildings use to be single heavy rocks square blocks-flat. Now it is a intricately perfectionists rectangular dream of different colored bricks that feel warm at times and massages your feet. In the past it was possible to misfire your steps and stub your toe (when bare footed) on the edges of the heavy square blocks.
Last year about this time Cherry Grove experienced record low's in temperature. We were all expereincing a low as well with the separation. NOw it is close to the seventies. It is so warm that if there were kids here, they would twist their parents arm to let them swim in the pool (in the middle of the parking lot) or ride the waves in the ocean. THe few adults don't dare to get wet in the cool breeze.
INlet Point Villa has maintained through the storm and the economy like a shell to be picked up and displayed somewhere. The locals have changed Some are no longer with us or they have gotten through the storm to smile at their days left at the beach. THe sons, daughters, nieces, and nephews have grown to realize their is a place down south where family prevails and it wouldn't be summer vaction without them.

In the cigarette shack surrounded by gas pumps...

THere is a well spoken African American man who can't afford college. I buy cigarttes from him. He applied for finacial aid but didn't get it. Maybe he couldn't afford the payments. He is like so many Americans who need a bag full of Money to fall in his lap. He isn't on the picket line with a poster board that says, "I can't afford college." He is working. I am sure he is intrigued like I am about the movement.
It is the Kroger near Sam's Club.
Right now I am wondering what can I do for him. I am also questioning why I am thinking about him at all. I wish I could maybe we should all pray that he will feel the glory of God so much so it will sufocate him. Pray that during the holidays he will be surrounded by his freinds and family. Give him hope because the job he has is beneath him or if you are in the westend and you need gas go to Kroger with your Kroger card and see if he is working. Say hello.
This Christmas think of what you have not your have not's.

Nature vs. Technology

In August, in the same week Richmond, Va expierenced an earthquake and hurricane.
During the earthquake and after cell phone companies were over whelmed by calls so much so some calls didn't go through. I'm sure these lines were full of people either asking fo help or asking if their love one's were okay.
During the hurricane power went out for a several days into weeks. Nature won.
We depend on technology so much so that when it is taken away from us we are in the dark in more ways then one. Maybe we take things for gran it.
Technology can be used for good. It doen't have to be a natural disaster for people to tweet or call someone. NOwadays our country as well as others around the world are using technology to rise up and join together to rise against.
We use technology so much of us don't remember what it was like without it. If taken away we are lost
Remember pay phones? Remember depending on T.V. for news (one of few ways to get the news then)? Remember developing film?
NOw we can contact a firend, search the web for information or news, and blog so easily and convienantly. Yet half the population is on zoloft.
You are probably saying to yourself an earthquake, on the eastcoast, happens once in a century. YOu are probably questioning why you are reading this blog.
I can't help but ask what is wrong with us? Why the obscession? Having the latest phone, the latest labtop or Ipad is not fool proof. Now you don't even have to go out to cut down a Christmas tree, because there is a website for that.
THis all can be cut off by a strong gust of wind, a shake to the ground, and rising water. Remember nature always wins.

Dear Mr. President

Here is some background information for this idea. My dad was a principal and a HR rep for Henrico Schools. As a principal he had to do performance reviews for teachers as an Hr rep he created them. The reason I tell you this I think there should be something like performace reviews for countries. Such as Pakistan.
The performace reviews should be like a check list. One thing that can be checked off is if that country has had a democratic election that isn't corrupt.
It shouldn't be a long checklist. Maybe it should have five things on it. If a country scores less then three out of five we shouldn't give them money. Maybe we should tell them what to work on.
If a country scores lower then three out of five then we take that money an invest in our future. OUr kids nephews nieces or grandkids. If we don't take care of them they will not take care of us.
Bottom line we can't be caretakers of the world with all the problems we have in our country.
If the country has a democratic election we should question the group that is now encharge. Even though we have religious freedom in our country if the group encharge of another country opresses women or another group that should be a deal breaker.
Another issue I would like to bring up is hazing or bullying in the military. Soldiers of the same rank should not do this. The reason I say this is because of drill sergeants. Drill sergeant prepare our soldiers for war. And obviously they have to be a higher rank.
A drill sergeant will break you down to bring you back up to have a military mind. This is necessary because a military life is far more different then civilain life. It safe to say a soldier isn't the same after experiencing the drill sergeant's grasp.
That is all I can think of so far. Hope you enjoyed the Army Navy game.

,Jason

The 17th Annual Carolina Beach Music Awards

According to Wikipedia in the early years beach music was called race music. THe genre now is mainly in the Carolinas. It influences are from the forties fifties and sixties ranging from swing to old time rock and roll, not to mention blues.
During the CArolina Beach awards people were dressed in their best. I saw little to no people my own age. It was mainly baby boomers and older.
I debated rather or not I would write about the award show because I can't see myself buying this kind of music. However, the stage presence of the bands made me speechless. The music represents youth for the older adults that are for the most part about to retire if their not already.
One award that was given was the pioneer award. This award was given to Eddie Cornelius. He accepted the award at the beginning of the show and then preformed at the end.It doesn't matter what age you are if you are a music lover like I am you would instantly recongize his hits, "Treat her like a Lady," and "Too late to Turn back now" to name a few. He now sings gospel. You know what he still got it.
The Carolina beach music community has their own niche. It seems like everyone knows everyone. I can only think of a few musical genres where the bands constantly think their fans that seem like they all live in the same neigborhood.
I am listening to Ceelo now. A band at the Beach Music awards sang a revised version of his popular hit "F- You." I have often said that Ceelo would be MOtown if it had survived.
In North Myrtle Beach there is Fat Harold's on Main Street. THis is a bar where people can dance the shag. There is also a store there that you can buy shag shoes. There is a shag Hall of Fame. The inductees were dancing their tail's off at the award show spinning a twirling.
For you yankees this award show wouldn't fit your stereotype of south carolina. Whites and Blacks were tapping their toes together aplauding to their favorite bands enjoying the soulful tunes of a genre that helped shaped this country's history in rock and roll.

Simple Pleasures during a bad day

Sometimes I don't get that kick to the butt I need to get going. Here are somethings to remember when you have a bad day.
1- picking yogurt, rasberry lemonade or velvet cake
2-the warm sun on my shoulders
3-blue skies fighting to be seen after rain
4-v-8
5-Macolom cleaning his face
6-the book of Psalms
7-music
8-Malcolm playing with the leaves
9-the changing leaves
10-a roof over my head

Now you have read mine. Maybe you should make your own list to refer to when you are going through the funk. Happiness isn't a complicated thing. It is simple.

Maybe I did what I was suppose to do

A Cloudy Rainy Day

There was an ambulance without the sirens on outside her apartment. I was on my balcony watching it go on. The two EMS guys came out with their stretcher. However, there was no one on it. They sat in their ambulance talking on the phone and rubbing their eyes. I didn’t hear the conversation. I didn’t know why they were called or what was wrong.
She was in a wheelchair, however she could still manage to drive herself places. I figured if you can drive you can write. Everyone has a story to tell that was part of my master plan.
I myself was disabled. I started shaking when I thought of the plan. I didn’t know if it was because of the coffee and cigarettes or because of my meds.
Since I didn’t like driving for the most part, I usually stayed in a couple blocks radius from my apartment. There was a Kroger across the street, a costco a block away, and a Gold’s Gym three blocks away. Near Gold’s there was a CVS.
I figured CVS would have school supplies like notebooks and pens. I drove there when the rain had stopped. I hate driving in the rain. I spent money there that would normally be spent on cigarettes (I started back up again). I bought a notebook and two pens.
I took a poetry class at the community college. I figured I could teach her how to write poetry, she could use the notebook as a journal, or maybe she can draw in it. I made sure that the notebook was wide ruled. The only real advice I could give to anyone was to write rather it be fiction or non fiction.
I drove back for some reason still shaking. I arrive back at my apartment and went inside. I smoked because I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I got my scissors and pierced a hole in the package of pens so she could open them easily. Sometimes those things are hard to open.
Finally I walked to her ramp and knocked on her door. There was a security pad with numbers on it beside her door. There was also another ramp that was smaller so she should leave her apartment. NO one answered my first knock so I knocked again. There was still no answer. I hoped everything was alright as I placed the gift on the ramp. I made sure the ramp wasn’t wet from the rain when I placed it on it. I also thought it might be hard for her to reach. I didn’t know what else to do. Should I have written a note? My handwriting is terrible. I then walked away back to my apartment.

Open letter to the protesters

Mankind need a cause
to create swagger
or a spring in their step
they may be driven to the drink
to escape a mondame routine
or they drink to celebrate a job well done
so often rejection gets in the way, too many, "No's"
This kills motivation
don't let your bright eyes close shut
don't close the minds of your children
We once felt we could do anything
Some have played by the rules
only to have a mountain of debt making the American dream
seem like a nightmare
You might be enraged
I urge you to remain passive
Remember to vote
even though it seems like Our representation
have their own agenda
My prayers are with you

Consequences

There comes a time in everyone's life where they have to step up their game. You can't wait or lie down to wait for life to happen. For many of you it was going to college, maybe it was going for a promotion. For me it was joining the army. I wasn't cutting it on my own. 9-11 was fresh in people's minds and I was a college dropout.
Why am I bringing this up? There are consequences to our action and our decisions. We have to keep on moving.
When we reach Life's plateau maybe we ask ourselves what do we have to show for it. Some of you will graduate college with a degree that isn't to apealing to the job market. Some of you may notice other people moving up all around you and you can't figure out why you are not. Some of us have to start over.
If I would have stayed in school I could have been more then I am now. Is it time for me to grow up some more? I feel if I had the degree in journalism I could have a little bit more income or be able to be more satisfied.
That was a choice possibly laziness or maybe I was trying to find an easy fix.
The world didn't necassarily put me here. Life is hard but I should have been more proactive. Feeling sorry for yourself is a waste. I often think of the things I do have. The army was a bad experience but it was a good decision.
Maybe our country has to do some more growing up. This maybe in the form of compromise.
In my last post I mention Democrats and republicans our views may split us apart and then there is our social classes. I personally want more from my representative and my president. I also understand that the choices I have made put me here.
Maybe we should all reevaluate our decsions. Maybe I should take online classes because being in a classroom can be intemidating for me. What can you do to better your situation? Or all you making that decision.
We should probably stop blaming others and do what we can for ourselves.
Finally, hold your head up it could be worse. If you are reading this chances are you have a computer. If you have computer maybe you have a roof over your head. If you have a roof over your head maybe you have food in the fridge or cabinet. Maybe you even have a car. Then you might have the option of going to the grocery store to buy food. Hopefully you have some extra money to go out with your freinds. Maybe you are loved by family or a signifigant other. Americans are resiliant look at all we've been through so far.

Occupy Richmond-maybe another French Revolution_Interestine times

Here on the westend there are republicans. There are people who believe in limited government. There are people here who would vote for voodoo economics all over again. Tonight a waiteress said Fox News is my shit. Her reasoning drug test.She said the governemnt shouln't regulate that.
I have been doing some reading on the French revolution. Gran it france was a monarchy before it was overthrown but still in france 95% of the people were not being represented. Occupy Richond wants to give 99% of the population of voice.
These are indeed exciting times. During the French Revoltuion peasants or commoners started "the great fear" that is destroying anything that was of the old regime France.
There were about 700 arrest in New York when people protest against wall street. My dad said they are against greed. I don't think he is in to it.
The rich should be taxed the poor however are taxed more.
I question everything and if at anytime I am incorrect in this blog feel free to call me out on my shit.
What actaully do we want? What actually will unify us? WIth this kind of protest I can't say I am into the mob mantality.
There so many news stations with conflicting views. I was raised democrat. I am told by facebook democrats want to take away my veterans benefits. On another hand republicans do not want to put the money into public schools which is the future of our nation. What source should I trust? Does this country have to be as separated has it is?
African Americans or what I can tell by Black comdedians is unempolyment began being an issue when whites or the private sector were laid off.
Where are these lines being drawn for the next revolution? College students are doing what they are suppose to do by graduating but what do they have to show for it a mountain of debt and unemployment.
Occupy Richmond is planning a silent protest on Friday.The police won't talk about their plan. What if the tea party shows up? Who will push harder?
Being an indivdual that lives off the government now I look back at my time at VCU. There were anarchist (I don't know if they went to school) and communist. Extremes on both sides won't get the job done. Would love to hear your feedback...

So much of a rant I can't even think of a title

I woke up this afternoon finding out it was not only National Coffee Day but to a post on facebook of good reads, books that have been banned. To solve the whole burning books and banning books problem, maybe go to a lesser evil. In the nineties there were those little stickers on music (cds at the time) saying explicit lyrics. Why not put those on books then asked for an id.
One of the books on this list was Tropic of cancer by Henry Miller. I read that book and I thought that was how wirters are suppose to be. I have read and skimmed that book so many times it no longer has a cover.
My self destructive phase was probably influenced by alot of things like BUckowski. I found myself beginning the night with a twelve pack of pbr sitting infront of a computer and writing. I was trying to be like these guys like so many other young Americans. I thought as delusionary as it sounds I was becoming like them. Writing was my love (probably still is) and without it I was an amputee.
Now I feel like I don't want to be like these guys. Drunken writers are a dime a dozen. I ask you this with all the flavored vodkas around and sweet drinks what kind of writers are we creating now? I sometimes get stares when I order a shot of Jack Daniels black lable. It almost seems like it isn't socially accepted anymore. I order a shot once in a blue moon and I don't make the face. I just enjoy the burning down my throat.
Where I go to drink I see buff guys drinking fruity shooters, and they are all about it. I laugh to myself because even though they could probably kick my butt they are drinking girlie drinks. Atleast when I was on the track of being just another drunk that was what I learned.
If Henry Miller walked into a bar nowadays not to mention he would still be waiting in line to go into the club from last weekend he would say something. Or maybe he would realize that it is what girls drink and he would try to buy as many sweet shots his royalties check can handle. Do you think the average girl would see the brillance of MIller's mind or see him as a creep? I figure a creep. He would hate Henrico County.
On to Bukowski. I've been going to this particular place for awhile, and when you do that you start seeing the same faces. I can think of two women Bukowski would go for. They even refer to themselves as drunks and they are unemployed. One had modeling agency in California, and said she could make me a star. A star of what I wonder. I figure Bukowski would charm their socks off of both of them. I have met them once and they have fogotten me ever since. This summs up meeting drunks at a bar. You might have a great conversation with them but you see them again and they will forget you, unless you remind them you bought them a drink. If you do that and they remember you chances are they will just want another free drink.
Artist, all of them, do not have to be alcholics or junkies. If your heros are dead raise you coffee mug and toast to the greats.

Glory that Last

Imagine a long drunken night that has led you to 7-11 to get some chips and a soda. Maybe drinking so much makes you hungry. You are adding more calories to that beer gut that you curse when you get out of the shower or maybe you joke and call it your speed bump for sex. Young men still howl. There limbidos are jumping up down in antcipation like a boxer just before a heavy weight championship. It is there in our late teens and into our twenties. The search for glory and good times.
However, you remember that clash song Death or Glory. You remember that first line it goes something like this... Every cheap hood makes a bargain with the world, ends up making payments on a sofa or a girl. That means we start out thinking we can take on the world. It most cases we lose or have several failed attempts. The wrong way is more apealing and it is easy or takes less effort then the right way.
Some of you who have gone through those years may see yourself as damaged. Maybe you have some regret or a mountain of regret.
When our crazy years are over what do we have to show for it. Maybe a story to tell.
I've been to places where I have seen men in their fifties or even sixties trying to pick up young ladies. Maybe guys have a little bit more trouble growing up then women.
Glory, I treated it as if it was my job. It can leave you lonely because the rest of your friends find a woman or they have kids that make them think or love something greater then themselves. That Glory doen't last.
What Glory last? Having a personal relationship with Jesus. As younger man I was probably turned off by the same things that turn you off now. I beleive that even went I went astray for my pursuit of Man's Glory Jesus never left me. He was protecting me. Maybe you can think back to a situation where that you just barely escaped or maybe you got out of the car the right time.
I was insulting Jesus and his followers. Yet I was still curious. His glory is like Thankgsgiving dinner or lunch. He will keep you full.
I guess this writing was inspired by an area 10 sermon. It was talking about kids and teenagers. When I was that age I wonder if I would have listened instead of taking as many detours as I have. Maybe the right way seemed to hard. Maybe the christians in my life at the time seemed perfect and I knew I was so far from it. What an off view.
I have just recently recieved some success. I am being published in an academic journal that belongs to Oxford University as in Londan. This is after I prayed several times (probably for me more then anything else) that I wanted to put my writing in God's hands. THis is very hard for me to do. Glory... Put your heart and soul on the page and give it to Jesus. Something will happen. I was long over due for publication. In conclusion, find the right Glory.

Putting things into persepective

Maybe every parent at one time or another let's their child go out to succeed or fail. One case of this when their child maybe starts school rather it is pre-k or college. As much as a parent would like to hold their child's hand during the whole day. Parents know they can't do that. But when that child comes home they will be spoiled with a cookie or a hug.
To look at an extreme When Jesus was nailed to the cross, he cried out,"MY God, My God, why have you forsaken me!" God turned his back on his son.
This cry should put things into persepective. Our problems are so small considering what Jesus went through on the cross. Are you really complaining that much about not finding a parking spot? You may lost your job and you had to experience a kind of downsizing of your lifestyle so to speak. YOu still have roof over your head. Maybe you are asking God why did you give this weakness or disablity to me. Imagine being not only rejected but being nailed to a cross.
When Jesus ascended to heaven who do you think was staring out the front door for his son to come home. Do you think they shared a bottle of wine? MAybe they had a huge feast. Sometimes all it takes is the look in our father's or mother's eyes to make us feel welcome to give that feeling of being home.

The dragon Team-finding motivation

On a weekday about 6am to 6:30am we would be in formation for pt. THis was after our cigarettes. People who had quit started back up again because so many people smoked and smokers got breaks.
During P.T. we would stretch and prepare to go on our run which varied in length. Everyday that I was there I had to search for the strength because of my foot problem. The NCO's were tired of me complaining about it. An inspiring officer told me they couldn't take away sick call which they had forcing me to take the pain.
Some of the faces you would see in formation was C. C. had asked me if I wanted to sell marajuana with him and another guy. I asked him if he needed more money.He said no and then He said he didn't have an answer on why he wanted to sell. He also said that the platoon sergeant was involved which was either a lie or it just proves that even when your not at war you still need to dull your senses. Now I figure all C. needed was a pat on the back. He needed someone to not only motivate him but to tell him he was doing a good job.
Z. would tell you he was led by Jesus to join the army. He had a devotion everyday on his own. His superiors wanted him to be a sergent but he wanted to get out of the army.
Rumor had it, he was found with a girl in his room. Another soldier on our team ratted him out and the first sergeant walked in on him. He was forced to go to some NCO school. He said all he learned was how to wax a floor. He was proud of that fact.
I will mention the girl later.
M. I am not so sure why he joined. Maybe it was the signing bonus. He had a wife and a son. I thought this was pretty cool, his son was named Lucas as in the Cory haim movie. He talked about the movie all the time. I had seen it but I didn't remember it line for line like he could.
Then there was G. He told someone when he first showed up that he loved the army and he could see himself doing his twenty. After that statement I thought he was a kiss ass and I can't say that I liked him too much. We were unfortunately roomates. I did my best to be pleasant.
C., M. G., and I were going through in processing. In proccess because we had just graduated basic training and during our training in combat arms there was no women anywhere. There were finally women in our lives or kind of.
One woman was helping us get our gear. She had dark hair tanned skin and blue eyes. I forgot her name. G. made her laugh, and after we left with our gear he went back and got her phone number.
After in processing we were free to go back to our rooms. G. talked about the girl. I told him I saw a ring on her finger. At the time I forgot which finger was the right finger all I knew is that I saw a ring. This didn't stop him.
One night I had just gotten back from the field which I enjoyed. I would have rathered been in the field then be in the barracks or go through the day to day at Fort Irwin. Plus I don't know what it was but I enjoyed saluting high ranking officers. Most of the other privates were scared. I was impressed. How could they stay so long in the amry? HOw smart were they really? I wasn't smart enough to be an officer.
Anyway I got back from the field and I was very tired. I didn't even put my stuff away instead I crashed on my single sized bed as G. was trying to entertain the girl he had met during in processing. Soldiers didn't have a curfew for the most part but women could not be in the room after a certain time. I knew this G. knew this and yet I heard kissing. It sounded terrible to me. I put on MIles, and then turned it off because I thought I might have been helping the mood.
I said several times for them to quit. I hated being that guy but I was receiving mental pictures of the beer gutted happy go lucky G. kissing and doing god knows what else.
He eventaully came over and slapped me in the face. This was the same guy who would be close to tears during the chaplain service during basic training.
She left and he went running after her still wanting to get some. Suddenly I heard the section segerant's voice. I thought he would deal with it. In plane sight was G. and a girl after closing time so to speak. I was up in my bed with my leg on the floor ready to spring when he reentered the room. I wanted to get even. Instead the girl brought G. back to her house.
It took me awhile to go back to sleep after that. I debated rather or not I should talk to the section sergeant. I wondered what was going to happen with G. I wondered if I would be able to contain myself during formation tomorrow and not beat him to a pulp. I would have to contain myself alot in my short army life.
After the painful run G and I went back to the room. The run helped but I was still in pain my feet anyway.
I was sitting on my bed when he threw me a purple bag that read Crown Royal. I figured he drank the whole bottle or shared it with his little girlfriend.
Then this is kind of funny. He told me they broke up and then he gave me a slip of a ripped off piece of paper.
"What's this?" I asked.
He said her name an said she wanted me to call her. He told me she liked me more then him. Ha. I don't think G. got laid again for the time I was there.
I didn't call her for the shear fact she was with G. He disgust me. She had been tainted and I figured I would think of him kissing and doing God knows what else if I ever got with her.
She was infact married so I was right. I later learned alot of married army couples swap espeically when one was in the field or at war.
G. was never punished but he complained about me so much I later had to move out. He would pick the littlest thing.
I started hating the section segerant a little each time something liked that happened.
The section sergeant had a wandering eye. You remember the Edgar Allen Poe story about the mad man and the eye. That eye would distract me so much when he would be talking to me or yelling. I would think How can he aim his M-16 with an eye like that? or my eyes would just follow it where ever it went, and it did go all over the place.
Back to the girl that Z. may have or may have not slept with. She was pregnant.
Let me explain myself. In the army at a duty station you have to dig down deep to find motivation like any other job. That motiation could be a beer in the fridge, a strong cup of coffee, a sun rise, your favorite song. I was knew to the mojave desert, I hadn't been there for very long but I had been running out of ideas on how to motivate myself. I was in a deep dark depression. The beer alone wasn't cutting it.
One Friday night I went to a bar with M. She was sitting at a pub table drinking water. The ceiling light was shining on her as if it was a miracle- a miracle in one. There was of course the miracle of birth and the miracle of starting fresh a new life. She had blue eyes and blonde hair. She said repeatedly how she wished she could drink. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. As usual women might or might not understand what motivated a guy.I couldn't explain myself then and I am doing a poor job now. She was sitting under the artifiacl light of the bar and I told her several times that I thought she looked great even though I had never seen her before. A new life a clean slate going through the trial and love with the minor setbacks. I could take the pain after that. I figured it was just a part of life.
The president has asked us to serve. Some of you are at that age where you probably aren't sure what you are going to do. The army in many ways is a sink or swim life style. My so called army brothers would say I sank. My family would say there were under lining factors. Either way as a young man I figured I was learning how to mix with people who were totally different then I was.There are similarities in adult straight out of college learn about the real world out of college. I urge you all to celebrate life and celebrate our differences. We are not robots but are fully loaded souls some with families some without that live on to a goal even if it just the weekend.

The Woman in the Wheelchair

The Woman in a Wheelchair

Joe lived alone with his disability and the voices in his head. He thanked God often for not keeping him in a mental hospital or in assistant living place. Joe did his own grocery shopping; he showered and shaved, and was content in living by himself.
Joe figured something was going on about a month before, because of the changes to his apartment complex. The maintenance crew made a handicap parking space, before there wasn’t one. There was also a ramp coming from a first floor apartment. Joe figured it must be for a wheelchair.
Then one day there was in fact a woman in a wheel chair. Joe thought it was awesome that she could drive in her very own van. He couldn’t figure out how she did it though.
That same week Joe saw her going up a ramp in the parking lot. The ramp, in the parking lot, went up to the sidewalk.
Joe was on his balcony overlooking this so he yelled down.
“Need some help?!”
“No!” The woman in the wheelchair yelled. She still seemed irritated trying to go up the steep ramp.
Joe decided if she ever needed help, she would ask. He also decided he would give her all the room she needs.
The woman in the wheelchair, Joe thought, hired a helper. He was always on his cell phone, Joe thought, when he should be helping his client. Joe wondered if over use of a cell phone was a handicap. It clogged you judgment like alcohol.
The woman in the wheel chair deserved respect. When she drove back from where ever she went, she would wait in her own parking space, and honk her horn at her helper to come outside. Joe didn’t like her helper. Joe would often give him mean stares.
On a trip back from the grocery store, Joe was bringing in his groceries. The helper was just then arriving.
Joe stopped what he was doing to give the helper what he called his advice that wouldn’t cost the helper a nickel.
“Hey!” Joe slightly yelled,” I live in G and I am tired of your client having to wait for you.”
The helper, of course was on his cell phone, and he was slightly startled by Joe’s actions.
“I’ll call you back.” The helper said to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“What are you talking about, sir?” The helper asked. Although he wasn’t good at his job he was still trained.
“You should be waiting for her at her parking space. I don’t care if it is raining or snowing, you should be outside waiting.”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about, sir, but I get the feeling you are telling me how to do my job.” The helper sneered.
“What is more important,” Joe asked, “your job or your cell phone?”
“Sir, don’t tell me how to do my job.”
Joe was bigger and stronger then the helper so it was easy for him to grab the cell phone and throw it.
“What’s up? What’s up?” The helper shouted.
“I am disabled too, and as far as I am concerned we out number you 2 to 1. She should run over you with her wheel chair.”
After that Joe smiled and then said. “Have a nice day.”
Joe went back to his groceries. The helper ran to his cell phone which was in the grass.
Later in the day it started raining, a light sprinkle. The woman in the wheelchair parked in her space, then started honking her horn. The helper was nowhere to be seen.
Joe went down to knock on her window. The window slid down after the woman noticed Joe wanting to speak.
“Keep in mind you are the boss of your helper. He should be out here helping you.”
The woman in the wheel chair locked on Joe’s eyes, which she found out in the past was a good judge of character.
After noticing Joes’ shaken tremors in his hand, the woman figures something was wrong.
“Are you disabled?” She asked.
“Yes,” Joe answered, “I stay in G.”
“At least you can walk.” She told Joe.
“At least you can think right.” Joe told her with a smile on his face. However he didn't know which was worse.
The helper finally came out. Noticing Joe, he walked slower.
Joe walked back to his apartment as he whispered, “We out number you.”
Joe observed the helper helping the woman in the wheelchair. The helper felt Joe’s stares in his back.
The next day at about the same time, Joe noticed a stranger waiting outside.
The woman in the wheelchair came back in her van. The stranger stepped up with a smile on his face.
Joe was on his balcony.
The woman went down her lift smiling.
The stranger raised his voice.
“How ya doing boss?”
“Sometimes it’s hard being a greeter.” The woman answered.
Joe smiled as the new stranger pushed the woman in the wheel chair to her apartment on the first floor.

Buy When we Were Young by Jason Jepson

Buy the book at itunes for your iphone, ipad, and ipod touch. You can by it on your kindle at amazon.com, or for your nook at Barnes and NOble. You can still get it at google books or android market. Feel free to browse the stores read the review at amazon. Like the book on facebook.

Old Law to new law

Today I was thinking selfishly I was looking for verses to help my own gain. I of course am not a bible jock. I usually look in the index, and I have mentioned my memory how I can't remember verses. I actually thought that God was refusing to lead me to find comfort for just me. However, he was infact leading me to this verse in Hebrews 10:1-
It states The old system in the law of moses was only a shadow of the things to come, not the reality of the good things Christ have done for us.
In short they will not stone you if you commit adultery. They not going to cut your hands off if you steal. It is not an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. Jesus was only the untimate sacrafice but the great example to live by. There is effidence that he would talk to anybody.
I think of the republican party some of them live by old law or politcians in general who seem to have faith won't listen or make the proper decisions to help the weak or even the wretch.
Some of you may have a problem with the old testament. You should still read but I believe strongly that we should live by Jesus, the son of God's teachings and action. He accepts everyone.

An open letter to Richmond

Dear Richmond,
Let the spirit of Dizzy and the bird guide my spirit. The brass runs true of Richmond tonight beside the slip ups.
I was literary under the weather by two rejections I got by Oxford University Press. Two writings I cared deeply about came to this at mojos. Some what depressed I bought a beer for a man that seemed to deserve a beer when all he wanted was something to eat. We talked football and basics but he might have needed a friend as much as me. He made an unusual sound gritting his teeth. Maybe I made him nervous by how nice I was. He evntaully left after my Philly cheese steak.
I was alone again when as academia set beside me with his girl for the night. He was very inteligent and seem to be stressed out about graduate school. He made the statement that college was easy and graduate school was how college was back in the 40's and 50's. This made me further depressed because I just have a comunity college degree. I left with my attention falling on a college football game. TCU and Baylor were playing.
I switched from whiskey to tall boys of the champange of beers. Watery indugence made me smile and snickle to myself as a bench clearing brawl broke out during the college football game.
I later bummed cigarates and drank more beer. Broke the city can break you, but with funds you find yourself enjoying the cools late summer nights.
Then on the way back after epic converations Paraham was lit up in blue by the pd. State and local were among us. I drove through staying in line and following the traffic rules.
I did in fact buy some cigarattes at the local 7-11 that I will prbably throw away in time. Thank you Jesus for keeping me save when my trade was rejecting me. I feel like this was my night, but next time I will not cut it so close. It is taxis from now on.

political freewrite

If the shadows could only speak
the angles turn their heads
in the name of freewill
HUrricane winds
coming back again
blow you over
like the tattoo dream
who doesn't notice them anymore
while the westend hates political correctness
and beleives in trickle down economics
soldiers think it is a rich man war
Doubt in my govenment but not my God
civilians maybe seen as deserters
yet still glued to left media to the right
dancing a waltz by two partners who don't know the steps
does our politcs pick us like a domesticated pet?
or do we pick our politics like a house with two car garage
Should we swap places? The rich and poor
Should the constitution that was written by rich white guys who owned slaves be questioned?
They may have owned slaves but they were willing to give their fortune up or even die for an idea of their own country
The voiceless aren't represented
educated or not
Didn't even mention unemployment

Spoil yourselves and spend

Today I decided to set sail for Kroger on the sea of asfalt across the street from my sea chanty. I made my list of goodies and decided to try something new. Never shop when your hungry.
Kroger is beefin' up the store to make it more like the new one out in short pump.
I went straight over to the meets the luncheon meet because I figure I would have a sandwich for dinner. I am a virgin to this kind of accomadation. I ordered honey turkey and bourban ham. I found a slight spring in my step from the meets they offer in their display case.
A man who was waiting on me said, "I usually work in the back."
I told him this was my first time too.
They sliced my meet and even asked if the thickness was right. It looked delicous.
They sliced a pound for each and gave me the meet and I contiued my shopping experience. I had a list which I strayed a little away from when I picked up some chocalte chip cookies. I figured I deserved desert in this escursion.
If you don't share my sentiment about freshly sliced meet from the store, then maybe you should buy yourself a cigar.
I got all the things on my list and went to check out. I didn't even wait that long.
The outlook of the store was different but a kindergardener could probably figure it out. I paid with my debit.
After my successful trip to the store I went home.
So spoil yourselves with something. The more you spend the better off the country is which means the better off we are. Don't be affraid to think simple rather it be a bottle of descent wine, a good cigar, chocalate ship cookies. The week is almost over, start thinking about the weekend.

The Original of the Times

A ORIGNINAL OF THE TIMES

Ted tried to conform to the times, and tried to communicate with hash tags or whatever you called them to the world. He had few friends that were real, and his family was old photographs in ancient frames.
Technology moved so quickly. Born in the eighties, there was Atari. His family couldn’t afford one. The nineties there were wireless laptops and an email craze. Again his family couldn’t afford any of that. He depended on his teachers and even the janitors to let him use the school computers to write his papers or research. As long as the principal wasn’t included he wasn’t in trouble.
Now communication is abbreviated. People only have only a few characters to say what is going on in their mind. Ted refused to apologize for not abbreviating his poetic language. He even still liked holding books in his hand –cover to cover. As much as Ted tried to be a part of the times, Ted knew he just didn’t belong. The poet inside him was dying in a few characters.
Ted however, realized one day there will always be some kind of a human element. Some may see technology as a perfect solution but there will be a human close behind making a mistake. Ted figured one day this may not be the case in a few years but for now he should cash in on the imperfections.
With this epiphany in his head he decided to get his news for the day on his eight year old laptop he bought used so it was probably older.
He wondered what it was like to be a journalist. Doing the research, maybe going to the event as it is going on, asking questions to a source and what not, only to sum it all up in a few lines. Were we really that busy?
Two stories hit him hard like a fender bender. One was a car bomb in the next forgotten war his country was fighting. The other one was a bank robbery that happened in his home town. The robbers were caught outside. The car bomb killed 6.
Ted lived comfortably, however sometimes it was pay check to pay check. He didn’t necessarily want to be rich. Unlike most people his age and younger he wasn’t sucked into being famous or living the life of a celebrity. Ted felt content in being unknown in being a nobody. Ted was unsure what exactly made him tick, and what was the source of the force that got him up to go to his job.
If it hadn’t been his day off, Ted would have been at work not thinking the way he was that day. It was Catastrophic maybe but Ted wasn’t into violence. He wasn’t into war or guns but maybe he could be an original he thought to himself. The word original rang out like a gun shot in a cave rickesheing around in his brain.
“An original of the times.” Ted said to himself.
Ted, simple minded yet motivated squibbled legibly on a bank withdraw slip. He didn’t know why he held on to them, but today he was glad he had something like this.
It was hot that day, so hot a person would take a shower then go outside start to sweat and then regret taking the shower. Ted put on his winter clothes. A toboggan, scarf, earmuffs, and a large over coat given to him by his dad after his dad died. Finally he put the withdraw slip in his pocket and left for his adventure.
Ted picked this particular apartment because it was close to everything. He could walk to get his groceries, he could walk to work, and he could walk to his bank. That day he walked to his bank in his winter clothes.
On the way to the bank, he noticed the church that he usually ignored. They were having a spaghettis dinner that night to raise money so the youth group could go to Haiti. The youth group was cooking and serving the meal. Ted walked right passed, although there was a part of him that wanted to help out.
Ted arrived the parking lot of the bank; he noticed there was a man behind the wheel of a ford F-150 that wouldn’t start. The engine would gurgle but it wouldn’t turn over. Ted went to the man on the driver side.
“Hey man, I want to help you out. I am going to go inside and ask the bank teller to call a tow truck.” Ted spoke from the gut.
“I guess that is my only option,” said the man as he threw up his hands, surrendering to the bill he knew he will have to pay.
“How about this you stand in front of your car, and when I point to you, wave at the bank teller.”
“Okay,” said the man, “but why are you wearing all that? It’s July.”
“I just got out of the crazy house,” Ted answered,” These are clothes that they gave me to wear.”
Ted nodded and then went to the entrance of the bank. He waved to the man in the truck and went inside. The first thing Ted noticed was the security guard at the door was sleeping. He stepped quietly to the one bank teller which was the second site he noticed.
She was young, very young. It was probably her first day. She was texting her boyfriend about how boring it was there. Meanwhile the person encharge of her training was in the employee lounge nursing a hangover with V8.
Ted looked around and took a deep breath for motivation. He stepped softly to the young bank teller who was about to experience Ted’s catastrophic intentions.
Ted took out the withdraw slip from his pocket. He read it over again, and then slid it with the writing down to the young bank teller. The bank teller sighed for two reasons. One Ted was interrupting her texting with her boyfriend and two bank were trying to do away with withdraw slips.
“Sir,” said the bank teller, “You can just use the atm for withdraws.”
Ted looked her in the eye and noticed a youthful kind of a sparkle that had been gone from him for awhile.
“Just read it sweat heart.”
“Car bomb.” The bank teller said with tears beginning to form in her eyes as she covered her mouth.
“Look outside.” Ted said tranquilly.
He turned around and pointed to the man who was standing in front of his truck. The man in front of his beat up pick up waved and nodded with a concerned look on his face.
The bank teller looked around for her boss. She hadn’t yet been trained for something like this.
The young bank teller started putting stacks of cash on the table. Ted started putting it in his pockets quietly. He even gave her a calming,”Shhhh Shhh.”
The bank teller was in tears.
The bank teller kept putting stacks of bills on the desk. Ted put his hand on her hand holding the cash.
“Baby that’s enough.”
All of Ted’s pockets were full. Suddenly the boss came out and froze after she noticed her new employee in tears. Ted waved and walked quickly to the front doors and opened them.
The boss yelled in fear more than anything else. “Don, Wake up we’re being robbed.”
Don stumbled out of his chair onto the floor while trying to get his gun. Ted pushed the door open forcefully with no idea on where to go. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Ted ran to the man with the broken down pick up and threw a wad of cash. He then ran and yelled back to the man who thought he was stranded.
“To fix pickup with.”
After the statement Don started shooting. He was a sniper in the marines. He shot again and it actually hit Ted in the side. Ted fell as blood ran down.
Ted had no plan now only to go back to his apartment. With the amount of cash he had he could have gone anywhere. Ted wasn’t thinking like that. The only thing on his mind besides the fact he was shot in the lung was Haiti.
Ted staggered and breathed gently as he went across the street to the church. He took a deep breath, and did his best to stand up straight. He wanted to look like he normally would.
The spaghetti dinner wasn’t until six that night. However the kids in the church’s youth group were setting up table and chairs, and cooking the baked spaghetti.
Ted used the wall to hold himself up.
“Something smells good in here!” He yelled which stopped the kids working in the dining hall but not the kitchen.
“We are not serving until six, sir” One of the teenagers said to him.
“I probably won’t be here at six. I would like to give a donation now.”
The statement stopped the other kids from working in the dining hall.
Ted did his best to smile as he fought for breath while throwing his treasure on the floor.
The teenager that spoke before stopped, he noticed something was wrong.
“Mr. Levine! Come quickly!”
A man with a mustache and an apron on stained with spaghetti sauce came out. Mr. Levine looked at the teenage boy first whose eyes were on the man who just emptied out his pockets with stacks of cash.
“Sir would you like me to call you an ambulance?” Mr. Levine asked.
“No,” Ted answered, “I just need to know where the chapel is. I have some skeletons in my closet. Don’t worry about me though I just had a few too many.”
Ted stood with his back on the wall.
Mr. Levine walked to the cash on the floor. Mr. Levine who understood that sometimes miracles didn’t come in pretty packages picked up some of the cash and then pointed to an exit where a hall began.
“Just go down the hall. Don’t go left just keep going straight.”
“Thank you.” Ted gasped for breathe.
“No, thank you.” Mr. Levine said as he offered in hand gestures to help Ted get to the chapel.
Ted walked slowly with a limp to the hall and then disappeared.
Mr. Levine and the other kids surrounded the money and prayed.
“Lord again you give us what we need when we ask. Thank you-“
“Where’d he go?!” Don yelled at the bystanders.
Mr. Levine scanned with his eyes the money, the kids, the cop and then back to the money.
“He’s in the chapel!!” The teenage boy who first saw Ted yelled as he pointed to the hall.
Don rushed to the hallway.
MR. Levine shook his head.
“Keep going straight!” Yell the teenage boy again.
Mr. Levine glared at him like he had daggers in his eyes.
The chapel was modest. There were no pews but folding chairs facing the pulpit which was in front of a painting portrait of Jesus standing over playful children that wanted to be held.
Ted was in the fetal position underneath the portrait. Blood was starting to collect on the floor near Ted. Don saw this and got on his cell phone.
“Subject pitched the money in on- coming traffic, and is now at church. No request for back up.”
A voice said something in static. Don turned off his cell phone.
Don looked at Ted gasping for air.
“I hope you got yourself right with God, because you are dying here tonight.”

The business of Medicene- rants and raves

First I would like to say when it came to science classes in high school and college, I was excited to get a C and actaully satisfied with that grade. So many of you who know me probably think I shouldn't tackle this issue, and I agree with you, but it is festering inside me and writing is probably the only way to attack this.
There has been a cure for cancer found in Canada. THis wasn't on the front page of any newspaper, but I do remember hearing about it something like this for a few seconds on the nightly news. Apparrently, pharmecuetical companies want to keep it a secret.
I posted the article on facebook.
I am a vet that receives free health care, and when it came to Obama care I would usually say that if free health care works for the vets it can work for the rest of the country. Pharmeceutical comapnies were advocates for obabmacare. These companies want to get paid for as long as you are alive. Cures aren't profitable.
The cure found in a Canadian University used a drug used for metobolic disorders. I can't explain to you how actually how it works but it sounds exciting. It was almost as if it was under our noses the whole time. The drug was called simple in the article I read.
Curiousity got me again so I looked up "Cure for the comman cold" There is a cure. It was found in a lad in Cambrige University. The scientist who discovered this said it can be in the form of a nasal spray.
Science is doing it's job, but the business of science or mediaction is very concerning to me. Why I haven't we heard about either of these cures? I consider myself democrat but... Maybe we should do away with lobbyist who seem to pay off politicians or limit the amount of money they can put into pushing their personal issues. No more steak dinners and exotic trips. We need a government that can represent our well being.
Everybody has been affected by cancer rather it was you, a family member, friend, or friend of a firend. Everyone has certainly be affected by something as simple as the comman cold. They have found the cure for both, and it hasn't been given to the people.
I keep thinking about the pharmecuetical community advertising budget. You've seen the commercials on tv. They seem so pleasant enough even uplifting, but when it comes to the side affects it is in a whisper.
I am not a science minded person. I am all about making money but when it affects people's lives in the negative, I can't say I support it.
The lines are being draw between the people, politicans, and corproate america. How will you vote? I persoanlly don't know.

Men of Conviction

Men of Conviction

He lay dying on the bed so extravagantly placed in his room. It could have been used for royalty. Struggling to reach for a glass of water, the sweat poured down his forehead with every finger touching the glass. Slowly he propped his head up to sip some of the clear liquid dribbled down his chin on his chest. It was his maid who took the glass from him to put it back on the nightstand. Everyone close to him (rather he would admit it or not) was present: his girlfriend, her stepson, and the writer of his will.
His son was running late. There was a void to be filled before he passed-before the future was determined without him being there. Andrew, his son, left when he was 17 years of age with the heart of a poetic conquistador. The man remembered how his son was on the last day. He was looking around at what was then the modest wealth of his father, and wanted to earn his own along with his own life. Andrew was the spitting image of how his father was at that age, and like any parent, he wanted to protect his son from the tortures life brought. His experience now had brought him to his deathbed, and there wasn’t enough money in the world to save his life now. The last time they saw each other was Andrew’s mother funeral. The bitterness was still there. They hardly spoke to each other.
“Can I get something, dear?” His girlfriend asked already holding the tears for the funeral.
“In ten years you have never asked me that question. No, but thanks for being so kind.” His words were long and drawn out in sighs.
His girlfriend leaned against the wall staring at her the man waiting to die.
“We hadn’t had breakfast, Bernie. Would you like Lolita to make us breakfast?” The stepson asked.
The maid stood at attention waiting for the request.
“Lolita is fine here. If you’re hungry you can fix your own breakfast.”
The stepson shrank back to the wall with his mother, beside them was an original Picasso hanging on the wall in a decorative frame.
The man breathed steadily as he gazed upon the writer of his will. “Thank you for waiting. My son-“
He was interrupted by a figure dressed in layers from the could; his face chapped, and eyes resembling that of alley cats when a car flashes its high beams. This one didn’t flea but felt uneasy at the riches that could only be seen at a distance in his wanderings.
“Well, dad I would be lying if I said you looked well. Why did you wait this long to write the will?”
“Ahh you know me,” he talked in last breathes, forcing everyone in the room to move closer, “always waiting to the last minute. What have you been doing with yourself, Andrew?”
“I was laid off at the factory but I got a job as a full time window washer. It doesn’t pay as well but still it was opened.”
“I’ve had a few factory jobs back in the day.” His eyes fixed proudly on his son.
Andrew’s eyelids started to fill with tears. His instinctively held them back with a swallow. “Dad it has been awhile.”
He patted a place beside him on the bed. Andrew stepped softly with his back to his girlfriend and the stepson. “I tell ya dad, all this isn’t you.”
He smiled then coughed up a last laugh. “No shit.”
“That’s his son?” The stepson whispered in amazement.
The wife nodded rubbing her temples.
“Son have you found anything out there on your own.”
“Yeah I have. Some were just born with the means to fog up the windows so they can’t see out, and you can’t see in. Those are the one’s without the fullview.”
“Son I haven’t been able to tell ya much in life but… it isn’t where you’re going but how you get there. Be satisfied with what you got.”
Andrew’s father turned away from his son, his girlfriend, and stepson. A single tear broke through the hardened surface of his face, his eyes darkened, as he exhaled the last of his insight to his son. He was gone.
The writer of the will got up from his chair, and surveyed the body. He walked over and took the dead man’s pulse. He looked at Andrew.
“By law you get the estate of Bernard T. Forsyth.”
“Bastard.” Andrew whispered. Andrew wanted to get there on his own.

the unfinished race

You Should always do what you love, if you can get paid for it that is ideal but chances are that isn't going to happen.
When I was sending poetry off on a regular basis, and usually getting rejected, I figured to pay the bills I should work in restarants. Working in restaurants you will either get a free meal or beer or some kind of employee discount. Sometimes art is a game of survivor. Sometimes the only optimism is that stream of consciences poem that makes your life makes since that is rejected by a magazine or publishing company. You have to have thick skin. You have to use that rejection as fuel- fuel to wake up, fuel to go to work, and fuel to believe that something is going to go your way. Sometimes art is a race without a finish line. Should you pace yourself, should you run as hard as you can or just walk? It all depends on how inspiration falls on you on any particular day.
You should never quit. For me I try to always write even if I don't post it on this blog like my profile says I have time on my hands.
If it wasn't for the army, I wouldn't be able to write as often as I do. I kind of think if you consider yourself an artist, the military isn't for you. Kerouac got kicked out of the NAvy then joined the merchant marines. I have no idea what the merchant marines do, do you? Then there is Hitler. I don't think I have to explain hitler.
In basic training, I hesitated but I did mention that I wrote poetry to another soldier. He told me the army will mess me up. MY answer to that is you can't keep a good man down.
Secondly get some kind of eduaction and if you can keep the textbooks for future reference then that is good. I still have my psycology textbook. I got a C in the class.
To recap, if you have a creative side, to pay the rent and the bills work somewhere that you can get food or other necsities for free. Don't join the military unless you think you have a tolerance for rules and excessive regulations, and an artist's job is never over.

The Decemberists Hazards of Love

a friend put the song The Rake's Song on a mix cd. After that I wanted to hear more. I went out bought two Decemberists albums not really knowing what to look for. I bought Castaways and Cutouts and another one that I forgot the title. Both were on the KIll Rock Stars label which discovered Elliot Smith.That is why I picked these two albums up.
I liked both albums but I listen to Castaways and Cutouts more. However, I was discourage that Rake's Song wasn't on either of them.
I bought another Decemberists album at starbucks. That one is called The KIng is Dead. Not as mememoriable as the next Decemberists album I bought a month later, The hazards of Love.
The hazards of love has Rake's Song on it. I should say is a near perfect album.
At starbucks The king is dead was described as being folk core which I thought was intriguing. Never heard of folk core.
Hazards of love is on Capital and it came out in 2009. I call it a near perfect album because it has the different styles music I enjoy listening to. Maybe considered folk rock with a wide vareity of vocalist, acousitc guitar riffs that make you want to move, and electric distorted guitars that make you step lively. Epic.
I listened to the album during hurricane Irene, and some how it fit the wind display outside. I kind of felt like I could handle anything. So yes if you haven't gotten into the Decemberists already or debating rather you should buy Hazards of Love.

Irene journal entry

The rain isn't even blowing in on my balcony. I wish I could be poetic about the rain, but it is nothing new. There were a few light flickers from the power. My lights are off but my stereo is on. Maybe the worse hasn't happened yet.
I am concerned about my downstairs neighbor. Whenever there it rains hard like this there is flooding on her front door step. I don't know if water goes in or not. She has a dog and I have Malcolm so that is a concern. She has a daughter so even if I go down there and knock on her door she might not be there. She might be at her daughter's place. Then there is the fact I don't want to get wet.
Yesterday they said 2 to 4 inches. Dad called and said now they are calling for six inches.
The wind has picked up, and I hear sirens. Malcolm is probably under the bed.
Shoot! I'll go. I will ask my neighbor...
Okay I did it. She didn't even open the door. I asked. She said she has to go to work, maybe she was dressing. But I offered.
I don't think it will get to bad.
Now listening to MIles Davis. The album called Round about Midnight. The storm isn't that bad. NOw there is no wind. Maybe a steady rain which is probably worse then a short hard rain.
Yesterday the weather man said 100% chance of rain today. Never saw 100% before. It is good to see they are right sometimes.
People who say jazz is boring never heard it during a storm.
I brought in my baclony furniture and this it.
If I was a beer drinker this would be a good time to drink a beer and enjoy people's company. I had a protein shake, and I have my balcony furniture.
It is now 3:15pm in the afternoon and the weather channel says the rain won't stop untill 12pm in the afternoon tomorrow. I figure there will be flooding. I think it is slowing up so maybe New Jersey and New York won't be hit has hard.
My firend's wedding is today, in Amelia. Wonder if they still had it. I called him last night. He, of course, didn't answer and I know he will not return my call. THis usually happens. I regret not going but I don't think I could hack it.
2011 has been earth shattering literary and earthquake, hurricane, and the second in command of Al-Queda dead. Crazy Week.
Night time now...
Seeing things, aperson and cursers where they're not suppose to be. Wonder if they had the wedding. The storm is just a ripple in the ocean, compared to my typcial day. I heard the voice of a friend outside my door. He was getting married today. It disapeared when I opened my door and there was no one there. The cat is back out. I guess he isn't scared anymore. I have a paranoid suspicion that there will be looters. Seems like the thing to do nowadays. I have a tv, a labtop, and a knife. The lights are off, facing the ineviatble fact, the power may go out. This storm doesn't compare to the symptoms buzzing like an annoying fly in my head. This illness makes things worse then they actually are. Thank God the storm wasn't so bad.
UPDATE: The power it still on listening to the black keys.

purple pickup freewrite

purple like a recovering black eye
beaten with less than quarter of gas
will never make that cross country trip again.
roars with his foot on the accelerator
no woman in their right mind
would want to cruise as a passenger
a soldier's first truck
a bent fender above the rest
still hums like that song
stuck in your head
that you can't think of the title
like the army maybe beaten once
but comes back stronger.
slept in, cried in, in lovable rage
smiles when driven and frowns when parked
resurrected by auto salvage romantics

God's presence after castrophy

Psalm 91 2-5
This is declared by the Lord: He alone is my refuge; my place of safety ; he is my God, and I am trusting him. For he will rescue you from every trap and protect you from the fatal plague. He will shield you with his wings. He will shelter you with his feathers. His faithfull promises are your armor and protection

Think of the current natural disasters and 9-11. What comes after those tragdeies. Unity a real since of unity.
I watched a documentary that took place after 9-11. Mayor Juiliani went to yankee stadium. Some of you probably hate baseball, but for that game New Yorkers were unified. One New Yorker even said she felt God in Yankee stadium. So the presence of God was there. It didn't mention Fenway. I am sure God had great seats. God wants unity he doesn't want castastrophy.New Yorkers gathered even though an attack could possibly happen.
In Joplin, Missouri there was a heavy storm. Depsite the storm a school started on time. I saw it on the nightly news. Hugs were given all around. I even saw some smiles. This was for the children.
My mom says, "WHen life gives you lemons; you make lemonade.
How about another verse?
I can do all things in Christ that strengths me.

2 Corintians 12:6-10 (New Living translation)

I have pleanty to boast about and would be no fool in doing it, because I would be telling the truth. But I won't do it I don't want anyone to think more highly of me than what they can actually see in my life and my message, even though I have received wonderful revelations from God. But to keep me from getting to puffed up, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from satan to torment me and keep me from getting proud. Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, "My gracious favor is all you need! My power works best in your weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of christ may work through me.

Are you boe-legged do you have zits on your face, are you to skinny, to fat, to short? Paul found out from God that he should celebrate our weaknesses. God will give us strength in our weakness. I anything I feel the need to cry out, "Bring it on!"

Psalms 23
The Lord is my shepherd; I have everything I need...

Will the meek inherit the world?

The meek sit back in their worlds
with no invitation to the outsider
with a refreshed voice for action
The outsider invites himself
the stares and different language
makes the outsider deduce his new surroundings
with good intentions
the meek fall silent to listen
but they feel it is tedious to change
The meek question the outsider
the outsider questions the meek
the meek float on and settle
and the outsider is alone with his experiences

Criminals potential

I just saw the last part of the movie Catch Me if You Can. Leonardo's character was captured all the way in France and then he took a plane back to the States under FBI supervision. He escaped through the laboratory through the toilet. The Fbi later captured him again. He served jail time for his crimes which he should have. Later Tom Hanks character saw potential in him. Caprios character later was employed by the FBI for check fraud. With Caprio's character's personal experience in the field he was able to put alot of people away.
Npr repoted on a hacker. Hacking was his passion. He would study enough so he could speak the lingo and then hack into places. His persuit wasn't for finacial gain so to speak but for knowledge.
I think of types of crimes not with crimes by the crimninally insane. I think that is different. A criminal goes to jail and chances are he becomes a better criminal. We should use his knowledge and give him a job using his or her knowledge of the very crime he commited.
There are exceptions. Maybe we should always ask why not just for the motive but ask what was their passion to do their crimes.
After their jail time maybe there passion could be helping people.
If you are smart, you will always be smart. There is potential there just because of a few bad decsions doesn't take that way.

Update

Some of you work Sundays so you can't go to church. Area 10 Faith Community has a blog that posts sermons. They are very good. The one I listened to inspired me to write today. When my family is in South Carolina we listen to K-love which is a radio station around in the U.S. However, we do not get it in Richmond. There is a contemporary christian station here at 90.5 on your radio. You can get devotions daily by email too. Most of them are free. My dad has three of them. You can still worship. I understand finding a church is difficult but with modern day technology you can worship in your free time in the comforts of your own home. As far as offering goes look into samaeritan's purse. They all often going to places like Haiti or Joplin, Missouri. It is inspiring to see what they are doing with your money.

Finding inspiration

Ever had one of those Blah days. Maybe you stood in the kitchen wanting something to eat but nothing sounds good but you are still hungry and uninspired. I think having a blah day is the least of our troubles with the unemployment rate and economy. Have you ever been so low that you don't know what is going to happen next or you don't know how you will get over this. You need motivation or inspiration. In the words of MIke Ness you need someone to "take away this ball and chain." (yes I just did that)
I remember growing up in a Southern Baptist Church when a popular christian band came out with a single. "Jesus freak." The band was D.C. talk. I was already being called a freak in school so I couldn't say I liked the song then.
But when that song came on during a function the "Jesus freaks" went nuts. I thought they were acting like fools as I just stood in my little corner feeling sorry for myself for whatever reason.
One of the lyrics goes," I don't even care if they call me a Jesus freak..."
I couldn't beleive it. They didn't even care that in my judgement I was calling them freaks. The spirit was written on their faces. They had issues like anyone else like in school and relationships but they were positive and smiling when they are in church while one of my sunday school teachers jokingly said how she would bring me a pillow so I would have an easier time sleeping.
As a non beleiver then I felt like I couldn't relate and I didn't like the cheerfulness. At a young age I was already cinical towards the church in general. But if my parents wouldn't have dragged me to go to church the seed of the lord wouldn't have been planted.
I f you would called me a spoiled brat then I would agree with you.
You know what I had to do? I had to hit bottom to ask fro help. I had to sleep in my used dodge pick up in a churches parking lot in other words to ask for help.
I had been trying to do it on my own for a long time and obviously it wasn't working.
I asked God for help I told him in an subservient way I was in his hands.
I stayed in that parking lot for about a week when a man told me I couldn't stay there. I personally thought that was odd being at a church and all. I left with an idea on how to get home.
I am not going to tell you what I did but since then I have asked for forgivness. It was inspired by survivor.
I got back home, and my parents welcomed me with open arms. They even game me a meal.
Then the phone rang. To sum it up I got help I had to be placed in hand cuffs. I was sitting in a hand cuffs in parent's rocking chair they have on the front porch, calm. I was tired of fighting whatever it was I was fighting. I prayed to God and if this was how it was going to be then I was all in.
I got help. I am not homeless and it had been along journey. Answered prayers sometimes don't happen over night. We must follow God as if we are blind or a child. You know that long string that children hang on to as they leave their classroom. Well, without that string God only knows where they would go.
Back to inspiration Don't hit bottom to find it. It is easy to cry out to God when you have nothing or have nothing going for you. Ask for God when you are successful when you are together and satisfied. God will smile upon you. God will be with us regardless of our economic status. Follow him and you will eventally crave his love.
I will leave it alone with this, because (judging by my stats) you don't like when I talk about Jesus. Those kids in my first church were inspired. It was as if they had that extra boost to go one. At the time I had no idea why I was different from them. You know how proffessional athletes have that extra boost that is usually steroids. Well Christian have an extra boost that will not show up in a drug test.

Update When your faith is tested

Maybe I put myself in the wrong situations. If anything God doesn't want you to stay inside. There is a war and we are soldiers.
Thursday night, I was talking with a woman. She discussed a new documentary that Steven Hawking was in. Mr. Hawking said how when the universe was being formed there was no time so how could there be God. He also said you might as well live it up because you are going to rot in the ground.
I thought of genesis, although I didn't quote scripture. I told her this was not going to stop me from praying. She suddenly became agnostic. Maybe alittle bit of witnessing but it could have been better if my brain could memorize.
Then there was last night. I was being tested. I probably didn't do what I was suppose to do, but I thanked God for letting me leave alone. When I was willing to pay for her cab that was just a random thought put in my head.
That and almost getting into a fight was almost a blessing. God was reminding me why I don't like the bar scene. God doesn't want us to stay inside but I think I do need a new place to hangout.

Friday Night Freewrite

Maybe I would be content in just throwing around the baseball with gloves or just play the guitar. One grandpa was a rolling stone. I never met him, but I am sure he chose drinking over the stronger founddation that comes with family.
At innsbrook again. I saw an attractive woman who needed help being stood up. I stood her up, me being between her and the bar. I got her some water. The alchohol is a bad influence but it is hard for me to ignore it. We danced while another one dance better with her. Her daughter was there questioning my intentions. Maybe I was questioning my own. We went to another place because her daughter may have left her purse in this particular bar with live music. She told me in so many words that her daughter was her ride. She was drunk and the other guy followed. I got the boucners attention and was willing to give her a tewenty for the cab ride home. The next thing I knew she was leaving with the other guy. Women.
I was at another place at innsbrook when I left the non smoking piano dual to bum cigarette with a girl.
Her name was Breeze and she told me her life story. She told me how she was nomianted prom queeen and how she was beaten. Then she said how she went up with the same girl for some kind of sporting event. This girl the other girl busted her knee in some flag football game. She still had some issues with it. She was my age now 30.
Suddenly her husband knocked me aside. I didn't know what the deal was because all I wanted was to bum a cigarette. I got the story.
"Are you picking up on my wife?" He asked.
"She bum me out a ciagerette."
I went on to say that she was ttalking to me about prom queen.
When there is the alchohol there is no real insghts. He wanted to fight me. I was reminded of the south Roanoke kids the older once who made fun of my speech imediamate. I stood up to him.
"We can't fight here. Do you know where coopermill is?"
He said yes.
"We can do it there." I said. I didn't back down.
He changed his mind. Didn't seem as bold.
He then wanted me to play along. I left with him still knowing where I lived.
I went to another bar that was closing. I had a shot of whiskey or maybe two with some water. I flirted with the 21 year old bar tender. Finally I left.
I was then reminded of Bobby in middle school. In middle school kids were split by honors and acedomics. Honors was the smart kids and acedimics weren't. I went to elementary school with Bobby and didn't understand why he was with lower level.
I got the feeling he was picked on. espically one day when five or maybe seven black kids were surrounding him saying What's up with you?
Bobby stood up to them, considered a nerd by the society, the very society that saw me as freak. He stood up to them asnwering. What's up with you? I wante to know what is up with you.? Bobby is now in law school and I am just a community college grad.

Guitar Center

I don't have the best guitar, but today I decided to get it restrung since I don't know how to do it myself. I played the guitar straight for about five years, receiving 1 year of lessons. I was never that good at it or like alot of other things there was always someone better then me.
It is funny about picking up a musical instrument. You take the clumsiest most uncordinated person and if they find love in it that instrument can be an extention of their soul. For some reason it can also get to that you can't see the person without their new found love.
I was at guitar center trying to keep myself from quoting Waynes World not that I even knew the "May I help you riff." I lusted over the electric guitars as if they were a long legged woman. A guitar's issues can be managemable. You'll have to tune and restring it, and I can't honestly think of what else to do with one. I was aprehensive in asking if I could pick up this one holobody while my acoustic was being restrung. I love holobodies and I could afford it.
Just yesterday I was thinking about getting a tattoo of Miles Davis on my sleeve. Now I am thinking about buying a guitar. One or the other.
I paid for the strings and brought it back home. I immedaitely played it. It was already out of tune but I tried thinking of some of my poetry for a song. I of course can't play and sing at the same time.It took me awhile to make a descent sound out of it.
Moral of the story don't leave things in the closet for to long or it won't sound as good when you get it out to play.

Amy Winehouse freewrite

Listening to Winehouse. First track Rehab. A song that for some reason, despite the subject matter makes people myself included want to drink. I personally have cut back considerably on my drinking, but everyone has a little bit of bad. I think it isn't quite the devil, but I think God makes us his spiritual comedy. He's up there laughing, and we pay for it the next day. Anyway that stuff can kill you young so BEWARE.
The song Back to Black sounds like a Supreme song at the beginning. When I first heard it I thought Amy was going to start singing "Baby Love." Then another song, Tears Cry on their own, sound like that song that goes, ain't no mountain high enough.
I think it is a good album, but some U.K. chick was trying to steal our motown. The last song is hip hop.
One can come to many conclusions. I'll leave that up to you, cause for now I am just listening.
Amy Winehouse has several good lines but the one that hit me today was ,"I pour myself over him."
As far as motown goes , I would like to see the acts full of life. Smokey Robinson looks fairly young, because he had some work done. I can't get enough of Smoky Robinson especially ,"Tears of a Clown." Diana Ross is probably more of a diva now then she was then. Both can still sing.
So kids beware of your genious we all have a little.

Journal entry freewrite

Taps played on Maple leaves from sprinkles in a summer light rain. Uneasy consciousness tired of shut in thoughts. The night craves you in Sunday's vacant streets and full parking lots. Only Crickets speak. Screens keeps them on their side. Exhale stinging tongue on the sight just before citizen's work week. NO ringing, beeping, inbox jingles. Only hear the pen to paper anxieties including the shakes. The cabinets are full and there's chilled beverages in the refrigerator for MOnday's mother's embrace to start over outside the womb. Awake at "the night's serenade." Mid month imagining vacationers coming home preparing for Monday. Greatness in my feet put up on an atumun. TV off muse in blue's electric poetry filling up the page with a lack of a definite plan, random irregular desires to prophesize weekend finishing after whiskey burning my nose, clumsy speech unreal to real voices deaf from the speaker's judgemnts. If it is too loud you are too old. However, now a tranquil nirvana night's whispers.

My Niece

She crawled with great speed
in a denium skirt
with barely any hair on her head
Now she walks
captivated by any thing as simple
as a shiny silver watch
when she will speek sentences
it will be like wind sprints
everyone in the room would like
to hold her
but she has her own unstill agenda
she likes doggies and calls her mommy, bobby
Naturally she smiles the whole day
cries when she is hungry
or needs to be changed
but not just because
An addition to the family
when it seemed like the family
was a fender bender
She jumped start our new beginning

freewrite

Devolution
Ecstatic
Godsend
Era
Natural
Evidence
Radical
Apparent
Time
Initiate
Optimistic
Nerosis

Jonah Jericho on fitness.

I got up to about 240 pounds, and my doctors were warning me about diabetes before I decided to do anything about it. I guess you could have called me an athlete in a past life, but when I was so heavy it was a beer and pizza diet.
I don't agree with diets or tv shows like the biggest loser. You shouldn't cry your first day. It is a life style change that happens gradually.
When I first started working out, I did the eliptical, because it was low impact and I thought it would be better for my foot problem. My first goal was to do it for ten minutes. That was all I did my first day. Later you learn you should always change your workout so you don't plateau. I would either adjust the resisitance, go longer, or add weight training.
I would make fun of the guy I am now when I was eighteen but I get a high and a thrill from working out that eventaully happens to everyone who sticks with it.
Some of my favorite writers are Charles Bukowski and Hunter S. Thompson they would probably disagree with me. The natural high you feel when the blood is flowing makes you want to live life. Instead, the high you feel after nine beers that would make you feel like you are going to black out or makes you the ass of the party. Then theirs weed it does get you high but sometimes you are so high you can't move. I don't think drugs make good writers, but I do remember thinking that it was more fun. That fun can kill you or put you in prison.
I would like to live untill I am 75. After that I would rather not have people take care of me in like a nursing home. When I am 75 I will start smoking cigarettes and drinking beer again. Which reminds me...
The more you workout the more you reevaluate different life style choices. You want to be healthy.
YOu probably saying to yourself JOnah, I am not motivated. Music MUsic Music. Kids today are making playlist. I have no idea how to do this but I am sure you can figure it out. Recommended songs and cliques: Babbo o' riley, under pressure, wolf like me, riders on the storm, resistance, look up fugazi, weezer, maybe alittle beethoven etc.
MOtivation can also be just a nice sunny day. Don't waste your day with hangover, get those knees up.
as always don't forget my memoir, When we Were Young available at www.jasonjepson.com

trying to apeal to both sides of the politcal spectrum, but... I am a democrat raised in the south

ANTI___ THERAPY

Romney was on the news talking about how he wasn't going to raise taxes on the people.
A democrat or several stand up and said, " What about Corporations?!"
Romney eventaully replied, "Corporations are people too."
I came to the conclusion, that the big corporations have Romney in their pocket. When he should be fighting for the man and woman making less then a half a million dollars a year.
Bachman's anit-gay therapy is nuts to me. Some of you who have read my blog know that I am christian. Don't put me into the same group of Christians who hate homosexuals.
Do you remember the golden rule? Do unto others... that is how I feel about homesexuals and other groups I don't fully understand.
Both republican canidates are intelligent. They know how to speak to people to get them on their side.
Some of you are saying Barack Obama is the same way. He is a wizard of words and speeches.
One thing we can agree on is that we point the finger at the other. Ask yourself, What are you willing to give up if not for your government but for your country?
Chances are it is going to have to be money. We are not necassrily being asked. We may be asked to contact our congressman or congress woman but what good is that doing?
Some are saying get rid of social security or get rid of medicare. I am disabled and if you want to take away some of my percentage points, be my guess.
As far as my veteran's benefits go, how about if I go off my meds for a couple of months and spend the night at Cantor's house.
No one should act like they are untouchable.

My notebook

My note book is black and blue from the fight. Winners waiver still hitting the jab. The loser gives up as he turns his back. The spiral keeps his guard up for the combinations to the face. The ink runs off after the right hook. Uppercuts works the soul. In between rounds new inspiration appears. The on going battle for 180 sheets, close to my first subject divider. Keep your gloves up for the invinite word or new notebook.

The Great Artist

You probably thought I was a loser after high school
You called me a shizo when I was diagnosed with shizophrenia
the whole day is ahead of me and you probably think I
would have real troubles if I had a mortagage
It is not a contest
but the struggle creates...
and your voice creates...
My faith creates...
then the struggle disapears
in to the thinking, I can't imagine being anyone else
My mind can understand the everyman
in their homes watching tv
they are capable of doing so much more
some say no time to create
families have their sons and their daughters
these are greater artist
then the singles using canvas
then the singles using written words
seeing images in the clouds
for the great artists
I hope you receive faith
in family God and love

Philippians 4:6
Don't worry about anything, but pray about everything. With thankful hearts offer up prayers and requests to God. (CEV)

This is how we treat our heros

As far as seal team six goes, we will probably never meet them, know their names, or even shake their hands for the job they have done. Seal team six is the group who raided and killed Osama Bin Laden. Osma Bin Laden was the mastermind behind september 11, 2001 which was a grueling 10 years ago.
How exstactic were you when you heard s couple hours sooner that Bin Laden was dead?
I heard the news on the radio which is ironic because when 9/11 happened I didn't own a tv. I listened to it on the radio again. I don't know I just thought that was wierd.
Yesterday, there was news that some members of seal team six were killed. The taliban said they were to blame. I persoanlly do not trust Pakistan and think the taliban knew that some of these men were going to be on this helicopter.
What comes to mind? REVENGE
I never went to war college but I figure that is an element of war getting the enemy back after they have done something to us. We teach our kids to turn the other cheek, and the last thing i want to sound like is a hippy who takes advantage of his freedom. When will end though?
Seal team six should have been put on a pedal stool. Gran it there would have been no parades but these men should have been taken out of combat, out of harms way. They had done their job. Some would probably hate being taken out but the way I see it the war is over. We can't go back and fourth for ever.

A free write about two catchers

This writing was inspired by Yankees Magzine's article The unforgetable Fire of Russell Martin or the assuming artist.
Can you imagine being a catcher in the majors: having to put on that equipment every game, risking a career ending injury when a base runner coming home and decides he is going to lower his should into you instead of sliding, and then having to squat as someone (on your team) throws a hard ball at you as fast and hard as he can.
To Be a catcher, I figure you have to be a rock, and hard insensitive rock. There is no finese, or real style. After saying that I have to tell you that catcher is one of my favorite positions in all of sports.
In the article, Russel Martin goes though his early struggles, and his work ethic. It also goes into that Martin is as good as his word.
To be honest I skimmed the rest of the article because I wanted to make sure he wasn't compared to Yogi Berra. I didn't want that to happen.
Either way let's analyze these two men. Berra finished his career as the catcher. He was beat up at that position, and his knees are probably gone from squatting all those years. Yet whenever you see him he has that Yogi grin that yogi smile that makes you think the kid is still there. One may conclude that playing catcher for the yankees is the fountain of youth for New York.
Russel Martin came from two parents who were muscians. How did Martin become a catcher? I guess it is similar to an army brat who becomes a non comformist. Russel is in my time and I enjoy watching him play, especially when he hits those home runs. I think people should watch Martin as much as they can so that they can tell future generations that they were there similar to my dad and Yogi Berra.
I know there is only one I say one Yogi Berra but are we witnessing the next in Russel Martin.

The Black Keys- The big come up

Heard of these guys from a Buddy Holly comp and facebook. I thought they were black that is until I saw the cover of this album. I was disappointed, because more often then not when the white man gets involved with African American culture he tends to ruin it. There are exceptions to this rule to live by. The black Keys are apart of the progress to bring back good music to the comman man. In a time radio is so often bad thank God for the Black Keys.
At one point I thought the lead singer sounded like Jimi Hendrix, no lie. There are similarities, but the Black Keys are just two whiteboys. I highly reckomend you buying this album.

Adele-21

Listening to Adele 21. This is the second time. I feel like she knows me, and she doesn't like me very much. For you guys on a guilt trip this album will carve into your soul. Her vocals will not be parallel. I can't compare it to anything.
Before I bought this album, I thought she was jazzy. This album isn't too jazzy. There is the blues though.
You will feel so close to this album that you won't want Adele to get hurt anymore.
The album is called 21. I personally want to have a glass of wine with her, and tell her to avoid those sweat drinks. Despite her age it is a very mature album.

A reverse 1950's view

When I say 1950's in this writing, I am talking about the family. The man goes out and makes the money while the woman stays home with the kids and cooks dinner. If this is your view on how things should be, there is nothing wrong with that. I was raised like that.
However, when I was a preschool teacher's aid there was this cute little girl. Her dad brought her to school, and usually her mom picked her up after school. Her dad stayed home.
The little girl also had a baby sister that I guess her dad watched. So I guess "daddy" watched two little girls after school. One had diapers and the other did not.
I watched the little girl like a hawk. Can't say I trusted the little boys, but they usually played together or by themselves. This little girl played well with others, she could write her name in "nice" handwriting, and she listened to the main teacher. Not to mention, she was funny and great to be around.
My brother for a little while was a stay at home dad. He got his oldest son into star wars, and he is still a good dad and husband.
The little girl, in preschool, dad was a stay home dad. I think this is a good modle for an american family. This case is springing up throughout America. Both parents bring in income so the finacial burden doesn't fall solely on one parent. I personally am a big believer in the stay at home dad.
In the 1980's there was this movie called Mr. Mom. The dad in this film loses his job and has to watch his two sons and daughter. His wife finds a job.
This was a comedy. In this movie it seems to say a man might have a different approach to child care, but he still gets the job done. If you can find this movie I highly reckomend it.
There is no reason why a man can't raise kids. It is an interestine dynamic that you might see more of.

The Language Spoken down deep

Southern culture isn't in debt, or unemployed
We try to keep the prices low
Even the yankees want a taste
The Love Loss and layoffs
brings us back to the blues
or toe tappin' country
We are big fish in a community pond
The miseduaction of the southern draw
is infinite down in Virginia, to the Carolinas to Texas
Occassionally disagreeing politcally
Both our views have the cheap wine buzz
during sweat tea heat
farmers to excecutives, store owners are united
with the working class
with southern folk porchin' it close to the cool fan outside
conversatin' on all topics
eduacting the youth of our ways
one can only wonder why the yankees insult us
when they retire in the south
Lord save us from ourselves
we are having too much fun

without a muse

A poet without a muse
send broken limbs to lions
covered by the blues of the sky
a past life given up the ghost
old habit stain his teeth
the carnage remaining
leaves him longing
only thing left
is the hole of the foundation
his words leave scars
and the voices insult
and sometimes compliment
the poet in his steady current
of productive anti-social behavior
the press will dispute what is written
yet the poet still write marathons
to be discovered