Friday, December 29, 2006


I have noticed a bit of a trend since blogging that I tend to come off as being a little touched in the head. I don't know what to do about that, so I will just have to continue being my unabashed, unapologetic self. I will say that there seems to be a certain Spirit of Surreal Events that follows me around, giving me ample opportunity to have a good bit of fun, and lending itself to support the notion that I am bonkers.
I had a lot of fun at the Craft Fair at the beginning of December being Santa Claus.. But it pales in comparison to the fun that was available on Christmas Eve- Eve, at my kids’ Church during the “Living Nativity”....
It was quite cold and they needed someone to fill in for one of the Wise men. Baltazhar, I suppose. And by “they needed” what I mean to say is ‘The Crazy Church lady needed”.... thats what my kids called her, anyway. Of course, I am glad to help anyone out. I donned my Robes and Turban and Shepherds crook and took my place at the side of the road.
Now if you can imagine, I play one hell of a wise man... especially if you put me beside a busy intersection in the "Freezin (expletive deleted)" cold. While I was instructed to just "stand there and try to look Wise”, this is just not my style. Its not how I roll.
So after a period of contemplation (six seconds) as to why a Wise Man was carrying a Shepherds Crook, I made my move.
I was everywhere, with my Crook, commanding attention to our little Nativity scene, leading traffic and urging Drivers and passengers alike out of their vehicles, at crook-point, if you will, and you would be surprised at how many aquiesqued to my threatening gestures. There were a few times that I actually stepped into the 4-lane road and stopped a car by virtue of the notion they simply did not want to run me over. The whole scene took on a “North by Northwest” meets "Halloween at Christmastime" "Miracle on 34th Street" look.
The end result, however was that we had a whole lot of people stop that otherwise would have kept on driving. I don’t know that any souls were saved because of my exuberance, but I can tell you the Crazy Church Lady was thrilled to no end.
In one of the backrooms of the church, she helped me disrobe.
“You were just wonderful’ as she took my crook and Turban.
‘Why have I never seen you here before?” as she removed my fake beard and looked into my eyes, smiling.
“Well, Ma’am, my kids go here but I generally don’t attend Church”
‘Oh, you must start” and she removed my robe.
I have to admit I was feeling a little uneasy as she began to unbutton my shirt. Then I realized that she thought this was part of my costume, and that what was about to happen was just another of those things that just seems to present themselves to me at times.
An Event of the Surreal Spirit served up on a Silver Platter.
I wanted to laugh, but it wasn't funny yet.
When she got to the last button on my shirt and found her hand on my belt buckle, she noticed my bare chest. A slight gasp barely escaped from her lips, and she raised her eyes to mine.
Our faces are only inches apart and her breath fogs my glasses a little and I say VERY SOFTLY ....
“You better stop right there, Lady, or you are going to know everything there is to know about me!”
And I give her my most disarming smile.
From her lips comes an “Oh” but it is so soft, so barely discernable, that it sounds more like “peep”. She ran from the room.
My daughter told me later that the “Crazy Church Lady" asked if I were single...
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime!!!

Thursday, December 28, 2006


(Continued from yesterday)
""my best friend and assistant, Jeff looked on in horror" as I carreened about the waiters station."

In the years before the incident I described in yesterdays post, my only experience with Gays had been through Drama Club in High School, where it had been whispered that certain members of the Department were "queer", and a few waiters I had worked around being a Chef. There was a big part of me that still didn’t believe someone could be truly gay and that the only reason they behaved in that manner was that they were lonely and just wanted to be touched and did not have the charisma to attract the opposite sex. I still didn’t quite believe they did what they did. There must be a mistake. They were Gay by some kind of default.
I figured that probably they just lacked the courage and confidence to get a woman. I figured it was just a cop out, a way to be unreal, that the people and the relationships they were in were invalid.
In 1982 there was only a whisper of a disease running through gay communities in larger cities. It was called AIDS, and over the next few years would affect the lives of a great many people, including myself. Not that I had AIDS, mind you, but 'Free Love" was about to be a pretty risky investment.

In 1982 I was Saute Chef for the Crystal Cactus, the gourmet restaurant at the Fort Worth Hyatt. The broiler man was Jeff, and he and I had a lot in common. In just a few months we had acheived a familiarity that allowed us to be a very good team as cooks, and also best friends, that with just a word or a glance we could be on the same page on just about anything. We were both pretty well read and could launch into scenes from ‘Moby Dick’, “Hamlet” "Lord of the Rings".
Our favorite was from "Guildenstern and Rosencrantz are Dead". Its a spinoff from "Hamlet" in which the two guards of Hamlets fathers tomb toss a coin that comes up heads 99 times in a row.

They contemplate the odds...
"If we postulate " says one.
"And we just have" replies the other.....
"Ninety-Nine Times!", both in unison.

While it started out to be purely extemporaneous, we both knew the material so well and had become such good friends that we could be quite entertaining at the drop of a hat. Well, we thought we were anyway. We would be in attendance at after work parties that went on 2-3 nights a week and lasted till well past dawn. The greatest thing about working in foodservice? Waitresses!
But Jeff never partook of waitresses and any time I suggested we go to here or there to chase women, Jeff always seemed to have something else to do. Still we managed to do something together at least 4 night a week. If it wasnt a party, then it was a game of “Risk” or all night Frisbee. Jeff was as good as I with a Frisbee and we would throw together for hours at a well lit park around the corner from my mothers house where I lived. Jeff was a deep and Philosophical person and as we threw we talked. He became one of the best friends I have ever had.
My mother had had a stroke which was part of the reason I lived with her. My father was in a V.A. Hospital with Alzheimers. He had been for years. Over the course of a year Mom met Jeff several times.
Ever since her stroke my mother’s speech had changed in the typical stroke victim fashion. She now talked like a little girl with a bit of a lisp and sing-song cadence.
Getting ready for work one afternoon, I mentioned that Jeff was on vacation to New York and I had a new guy to train.
My mother gets an odd look on her face and asks what he is doing in New York
“He says he is going to see as many plays as he can in 4 days” I tell her.
“ Did he go by himself?’ she asks.
‘No, he went with a couple of the waiters from the Restaurant”
Mom looks at me over the top of her glasses.
“Steve, is Jeff gay?
“NO, Mom, why do you ask?”
And in that sing-song voice she says “Well, he...just seems... like he might... be gay.”
Now in 1982 my Mom was 65 years old and had been a housewife all her adult life. I doubt she had ever met a gay person. I was surprised that she knew the word.
I thought about it all night and finally determined that she was probably right. My best friend in the whole world, with looks and energy and charisma to burn; the guy that I hung out with 4-5 nights a week and could leap at least 4’in the air covering 10-12 feet and catch a Frisbee behind his back or between his legs; that I found myself on the same page with, completely in sync, time after time after time; my best friend that I was so proud to know....was Gay!

It was a real awakening; these were real people in real relationships and there wasn’t anything wrong with them. Whatever I had been thinking about Gay people was incompetent, immaterial and irrevelant.
Jeff left the Hyatt in 1986.
I found myself behind him in a checkout line in 1988. He had not seen me.
"If we Postulate..." I said very loudly.
He flinched but didn't need to turn around.
"...And we just have..." came the reply.
In unison as he turns around;
"...NINETY NINE TIMES!" and we embrace.

I never saw Jeff again.
I got word that Jeff had died from AIDS in 1993.
I can scarcely think of him without weeping.

I would like to dedicate this one to Barbara,
who is lucky enough to have a lot of friends, many Gay; and a fellow that used to Blog named "Broken" who told me he had never really had a Gay friend and in doing so inspired me to write this many months ago.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006


Grizzbabe has insinuated that I have teased you badly concerning an incident where I almost ended up unemployed. She is right, it should follow the story about Chef Felenczak, as he certainly was one of the players.

I had been at the FW Hyatt for about 30 days when I got my first promotion. I was to be the Lead cook for the Gourmet restaurant for the evening shift. The Restaurant was named ‘The Crystal Cactus” but I affectionately called it “The Crystal Crotchless” and every waiter in the place was Gay. Now back then, in my world at least, gays were a bit of an exception. I had worked in restaurants where there were no Gays, but here at the Hotel, the Crystal Cactus and Room Service were filled with Gays. To me there was something a little unreal about them as though they might be Gays by Default...(to be continued)
After work, walking to my car in downtown Fort Worth, many was the night that several carloads of these gays would beckon to me to come and join them. The smell of Marijuana wafting from their car windows, my usual response was to moon them. Man, did that ever fire them up as I pulled my pants down and flashed my milky white ass cheeks- they would hoot-n-holler and get out of their car and I would hitch up my pants and run for my life.
I called them the “Boys”.
I let it be known as often as I could that I had no respect for them whatsoever.
AIDS was still relatively unknown.

So on New Years Eve 25 years ago as the night wound down, the “Boys” started to bring me Kamikazes... I don’t know exactly what that is but its either Vodka or Gin and after about the 3rd or 4th I began to feel the effects.
It was about this time that one of the boys, his name was Frank and he looked just like Peter Lorre, only weirder, approached me and asked me a question;
“Steve, why don’t you like us Boys”
As I searched my alcohol racked brain for a proper answer, I spied a Fire extinguisher hanging on the wall.
I had my answer.
I reached over, grabbed the extinguisher. I hung the handle from my apron, holding the 2 foot long nozzle in my right hand. The big red tank hung swinging from my apron, between my legs.
I started to laugh, but it wasn’t funny yet.
I pulled the pin.
I looked Frank dead in the eye and said;
“Why, Frank, I like you boys just fine” and let him have it. A thick stream of white reatardant came very forcefully from the nozzle, leaving Frank looking like something out of a 3 Stooges bit.
"In fact, I like you Boys a lot".
Then I began careening through the Waiters station, that big tank swingin down between my knees and long thick nozzle (in both hands now) hosing down every waiter I came across. Laughing all the way. My best friend and assistant Chef, Jeff, looked on in horror.
It was about the time that I ran out of foam that Security had me and escorted me to the nearest exit.

I don’t remember filling out an incident report. I don’t think they needed my contribution.
I was off for the next three days and worried that I would lose my job.
When i came back, they did not stop me at security. A good sign.
When I got to the main kitchen there was not a representative there from Personnel to escort me away. Another good sign.
But neither was Chef Felenczak there to inflict whatever discipline on me that I most certainly had coming. It would be two long hours before he got to the Kitchen. That's how long it took him to save my ass.
I was slicing meats when he appeared at the door of the Chefs office. He looked across the Kitchen and our eyes locked. He pointed at the floor next to him with his finger. I went.
I don’t know how badly he put himself in hock for me, but I came away with a 3 Day suspension when by all rights I should have been fired.
After that, Chef always called me his "little Troublemaker".

Thanks Chef.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006


I tell this story very well... lets see if it works on paper........

Steve Felenczak was the Chef that opened the Ft Worth Hyatt in 1981. He was Polish, proud and a very good Chef. He had graduated from CIA, the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park NY. He was the first Certified Executive Chef I had ever worked for. After the second time that I called him “Bossman” he explained to me that “Bossman” was the guy that ran the Penitentiary and that I should call him “Chef”.
He also taught me that the first thing you say to Potwashers and Dishwashers was “Good Morning” or “Good Evening”. This has served me very well over the years. He also explained to me that we were not here “Just to learn about cooking”.
After 1 and 1/2 years at Ft. Worth Hyatt, a 900 room property, Chef got a big promotion. He was to become the Executive Chef at the Baltimore Hyatt, a 1700 room Hotel. It was to be a huge promotion with more money in a very prestigious part of the Country.
The day before his last day, the Health Department showed up for a routine inspection. Within a few minutes it was apparent that the Health guy was in a foul mood. He began taking off for the slightest of things. As he toured the kitchen, Chef and the health guy began to argue and get louder. At some point the Mr.Health has seen enough. They go to the Chefs office where he tells the Chef “I am SHUTTING YOU DOWN!!!”
Chef says “You can’t shut me down”
Mr. Health counters with “Like hell if I can’t”
Chef reconsiders and says “Well maybe you can, but not before we go to see the General Manager”
So up to the G.M.’s office they march. As Chef is leaving the kitchen he is livid.
He points to us all ( all the Kitchen Staff has been standing around watching this event) and says in an angry whisper “Get this place cleaned up!”
Once in the G.M.’s office, Mr.Health tells the G.M. that he is "shutting this nasty-ass kitchen down."
The G.M. proclaims “You can’t do that!”
“Like hell if I can’t” counters Mr. Health.

The General Manager knows he has been upstaged...
“Well maybe you can, but not before we go to the Mayors office."

Now the stage is set. The Health Department wants to shut down the most prestigious Hotel in the city on the day before the Chef is to go on his big promotion. It could put the promotion in jeopardy. Chef was sweatin’ bullets. To the Mayors office they march, Mr. Health, The G.M. and Chef. Once in the Mayors Office, Mr. Health tells the Mayor of all the Violations and how filthy the Kitchen is. The Chef pleads that this is all “Mickey Mouse” stuff and just not that bad.
The G.M. says “Mayor, this is the finest Hotel in the City, it’s the Chefs last day and they can’t just shut us down”.

“Like Hell if they can’t” says the Mayor, who cannot let his Health Department become without muscle; “But not until I see this Kitchen for myself.”

The Mayor wants to tour the kitchen personally and may have the final say as to whether Chef actually gets his promotion.
Can you imagine? The day before he is to leave?
So back to the Hyatt they Parade. Mr. Health, Chef, the G.M. and the Mayor walking the long six blocks to the Hotel. The whole while the Chef is trying to plead his case to the Mayor.
What was going through the Chefs mind I can only wonder. Can you imagine such a Black Eye on the Eve of a promotion so large? His entire Professional career may hang in the balance.
So through the lobby they go and pass the double- doors through the Waiters Station and into the Main Kitchen where….

There is the Banner that reads;


strung over the entrance to the Main Kitchen and the “going away” party is all set up. Chafing dishes with food, carving Station w/ tenderloin and a Wet Bar. Spared no expense, the Mayor and Heath guy were in on it from the get go. In fact the Mayor and Health guy are now shaking his hand and slappin' him on the back. Half of the Employees of the hotel are lined up and clapping.
Three cheers for the Chef.
The look on the Chefs face is unbelievable. Talk about relieved. He says to me “ I could’nt figure out why you’se guys were just standing around lookin’ STUPID”.
This is the coolest and possibly cruelest thing I have ever been a part of…now, I’ve written it down. I only wish I knew who dreamed it up and if it has ever been used again!
OLD LADY... Have you ever heard anything that approaches this?

Friday, December 22, 2006


I was tagged by "the 'roy"
concerning Christmas....I will contibute only that which may be noteworthy to the survey;
My favorite holiday movie is "Its a Wonderful life" which touched me quite deeply since I was just a little boy. What I feel is noteworthy, however, is how little this movie seems to mean to my children; they groan everytime I mention it and even go so far as to call it "The Longest Life" to my face... very respect for the importance of friendship.
My favorite songs of the season seem to be quite at odds with each other.... the first is 'Father Christmas" by Emerson, Lake and Palmer. This song raises great doubt about the origin and validitiy of Christmas....

"They said there'd be snow at Christmas, they said there'd be peace on earth
But instead it just kept on raining, a veil of tears for the Virgin Birth
I remember one Christmas morning, a winter's light and a distant choir
And the peal of a bell and that Christmas tree smell,
and their eyes full of tinsel and fire
They sold me a dream of Christmas, they sold me a Silent Night
And they told me a fairy story 'till I believed in the Israelite
And I believed in Father Christmas, and I looked to the sky with excited eyes
And I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn, and I saw him and through his disguise
I wish you a hopeful Christmas, I wish you a brave new year
All anguish pain and sadness leave your heart and let your road be clear
They said there'd be snow at Christmas, they said there'd be peace on earth
Hallelujah Noel, be it heaven or hell, the Christmas we get we deserve"

Maybe it is a more hopeful song at second glance than it would appear to be at first...
The other song that I have come to enjoy... no, absolutely love and adore is "The Night that Christ was Born".... it may be more for the melody, so grand and uplifting, than for the lyrics, but like most songs the lyrics take on a life of their own when placed into the context of the music. I have seen someone do this on PBS that has brought me to my feet and put me to my knees, laughing as tears ran down my cheeeks.

Listen to the angels
Rejoicing e'er so sweetly
Receiving heaven's glory
The night that Christ was born

Can't you see the people
Coming from every nation
Pleading for salvation
The night that Christ was born

Oh such a wonderful savior
To be born in a manager
So that I can share His favor
And my heart be made anew

Listen to the trumpets
Shouting through the darkness
Crying 'holy, holy'
The night that Christ was born

Listen to the trumpets
Shouting through the darkness
Crying 'holy, holy'
(Now Behold the Savior)
The night that Christ was born

There are a lot of repeated choruses in this song that build on each other beautifully is a truly glorious song.

As far as the rest of the list goes, I can sum it up for you with my favorite Christmas greeting.....

'Christmas is a Humbug!"

You know I don't mean it.
Peace on Earth.

Thursday, December 21, 2006


I have worked on a post concerning the show ‘Hells Kitchen” but it never comes out right as I end up ranting even more maniacally than the jerk on the show. Instead I willl share with you a little story of how low key it can be when a real Chef cuts your nuts off.
I have to wonder if my freind 'ol lady knows Gaspar.
I was working for a Hungarian named Gaspar. I swear this man was part Vampire as you always felt a little bloodless after he got through with you. I was P.M. Sous Chef, which means you are accountable for everything while being responsible for nothing in particular.
I had decided I had had enough of Gaspar and a major Hotel chain that I had given Blood Sweat and Tears to for 10 years.
I marched myself into Gaspars office. He was there, it seemed, 20 hours a day, and this is what I said;
“I would like to give you, Sir, my two weeks notice. Of course, if you would like to shoot me on out of here right now, well, that would be jst fine with me.”
There were two things that I hoped for when I went in there... one was the notion that I could somehow rattle this cold blooded creature, and the other which was more important, that he send me on home today... I really had had enough.
Gaspar never even looked up. He set down his pen, slowly stirred his coffee, raised it to his lips and before he took a sip, I could see the smile begin to form on his lips. With the cup still inches from his lips he finally looks at me over the top of his glasses and says;
“No, no, Steve, I will accept your two weeks notice and you can work it on out.”
So much for going home today. Then he says
“On your last day we will all have Champagne, no?

See, you don’t need to raise your voice or throw food or even threaten physical injury to cut a guys heart out. I will never forget that one, I tell you what.

I have been slow posting lately and will continue to be until after Christmas, probably after New Years, when I hope that I will be moving my account to a home based operation and avoid the fate of the many unemployed whose work related hits were far outnumbered by non- work related hits.

Friday, December 15, 2006


I do not know how far from Texas this song may have traveled, but it is like a Seasonal National Anthem down here. You can hate Country Western music, hate it bad, and still be lovin' this.
Believe me, I know.
My Daughter and Son and I have started the daily ritual of putting it on and singin' in as loud and and raucous a fashion as possible.
If you have never heard it, I'm sorry. Takes the edge off of the insanity!

(Robert Earl Keen Jr.)
Robert Earl Keen - 1994

Mom got drunk and Dad got drunk
At our Christmas party
We were drinkin' champagne punch
And homemade eggnog
Little sister brought her new boyfriend
He was a Mexican
We didn't know what to think of him
Til he sang Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Brother Ken brought his kids with him
The three from his first wife Lynn
And the two identical twins
From his second wife MaryNell
Of course he brought his new wife Kaye
Who talks all about AA
Chain smokin' while the stereo plays
Noel, Noel, The first Noe

lCarve the turkey turn the ball game on
Mix Margaritas when the eggnog's gone
Send somebody to the Quik-Pak store
We need some ice and an extention cord
A can of bean dip and some Diet Rite
A box of tampons and some Marlboro Lights
Hallelujah everybody say cheese
Merry Christmas from the family

Fran and Rita drove from Harlingen
I can't remember how I'm kin to them
But when they tried to plug their motorhome in
They blew our christmas lights
Cousin David knew just what went wrong
So we all waited on our front lawn
He threw the breaker and the lights came on
And we sang Silent Night
Oh Silent Night

Carve the turkey turn the ballgame on
Make Bloody Marys cause we all want one
Send somebody to the Stop 'n Go
We need some celery and a can of fake snow
A bag of lemons and some Diet Sprite
A box of tampons and some Salem Lights
Hallelujah everybody say cheese
Merry Christmas from the family
Feliz Navidad.

Thursday, December 14, 2006


Watched a John Wayne movie over the weekend.
He and Patricia Neal are about to "hook up." He apologizes to her in advance that there is no real future in him, as he is shipping out the next day, and Submariners "Don't last long in this man's navy".
She slouches back into a big easy chair and gives him "the look"; eyes half closed, lips pursed and her head on a bias. In this sultry sexy voice she says


Wayne asks if she has a phone. He steps into the kitchen, calls his
Commanding Officer, indicates that he will not be back to the ship until morning.
Arrangements having now been made, he leans agaist the doorjamb and with confident
expectation, gives Patricia Neal "the look".
Her eyes lightly glazed, she sinks a little deeper into her chair and slowly removes her Nurses cap as she kicks off her shoes...
End of scene.
They just don’t write ‘em like that any more.

Monday, December 11, 2006


I was steady into recounting a few of my Psycho Dreams for you all when we were called away; I owed you another sweet Lily story, and the balding Annelisa asked that we bare our weirdness.
I give us all 'A''s.
So now that the cat is out of the bag, I would like to finish with a Dream that illustrates the Question Barbara asked....why do we Dream these things?
It also makes me wish that I were as smart awake as I am asleep...

In my dream I have my Cutting board set up, I have surrounded myself with food to process and I am all set …except people keep coming to me with all manner of requests. The General Manager needs me to measure his office for book shelves, the valet parking guy needs me to come and jump a car off, maintenance wants me to show them how to fix the tile in the mens dressing room (I did tile for 8 years) and its like one thing after the other keeps me away from doing my job. But in the Foodservice Industry, the answer is always "Yes" and Foodservice people ALWAYS help.
Finally, all the BullShit tasks completed, I step up to my cutting board, knife in hand, ready to rock the house. I’m doing Cantaloupes. I have cases of them stacked to the ceiling. I reach for another to shave the peel off and notice that there is someone standing next to me. I look up to see what could only be described as an English “chap”. He is wearing a Tweed Jacket, Scarf and little Riding Cap. He is in his 60’s, has one of those Curly-Q Mustaches, a pipe and is wearing a Monocle. He is the mental picture you get when you say “Chap”.
“Can I help you?” I ask. Foodservice people always help.
‘Thank you , young man, quite possibly you can. I am looking for a pair of ‘Knee Socks’”
“Knee Socks” says I…
“Knee Socks” says he.
I glance around the Kitchen and clear my throat.
“ Does any one here have a pair of Knee Socks” I announce.
All movement in the Kitchen and Waiters Station stops.
Foodservice people always help.
Out of the corner of my eye I detect some movement by the Ice machine. There is a Cocktail Waitress there, she is looking right at me and I can tell that she is going to answer my request.
“Knee Socks?” she asks.
“Knee Socks” says I.
Very daintily, she reaches down and with thumb and forefinger of one hand, and grasps the hem of her skirt. She slowly raises her skirt to just reveal a garter belt and Fishnet Stockings. She raises her heel and on pointed toe flexes her knee to the inside slightly to further advertise the Product. Very nice.
“Like these?” she asks, in almost a whisper...
I look to the Chap; he is rather shocked; his eyes widen, the pipe dangles from his lower lip, the monocle pops from his eye and he shakes his head “NO’ very quickly. I look back to the Waitress and give her a wink.

“I don’t think so, little honey” I say “But you are looking real good today”

What I have to wonder is…. did my mind have this dream worked out from the start or did I make it up as I went along? I find it difficult to believe that I could come to that conclusion without having planned it in some way that i am totally unaware of. I have to add that I have dreams like this, dreams that have foreshadowing and plot and beginning, middle, and end…. a lot.

What do ya'll think?

Friday, December 08, 2006


Yesterdays little exercise leads very well into case anyone had wondered where my name came from...

Too long in the Wasteland
hear the trucks on the highway
and the ticking of the clock
there's a ghost of a moon in the afternoon
bullet holes in the mailbox
bullet holes in the mailbox
key holes in my mind

too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland
I've fallen behind

she said why don't you come see me
when the sun goes down
it'll be just like the old days
when I used to let you hang around
well I don't know
I might not speak the language anymore

too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland
will close some doors

the people in the village
watch their children play
at the sight of a stranger
they call the kids away
just leave that man alone
I hear the mother say
he's been

too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland's
what made him that way

well, I hadn't intended to bend the rules
but whiskey don't make liars
it just makes fools
so I didn't mean to say it
but I meant what I said

too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland
must've gone to my head

jet trail in the sunset
a long way away
cutting 'cross the horizon
at the edge of the day
and it calls Steve
come fly away
but I've been

too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland
I believe I'll have to stay

yeah, I've been
too long in the wasteland
too long in the wasteland
I believe I'll have to stay

James McMurtry

Thursday, December 07, 2006


I don't know how I get on these lists, but thanks for the tag, Annelisa, I will do my best!!!
How and why am I so weird? They want six examples...thanks for asking and lets take it from the top, shall we?

Boys will be boys
>I will Eat, Drink, Smoke and F*ck just about anything. Since I am so weird we will count that as “1”
I eat Ice Cream out of the carton with a fork, I like Graham Crackers dipped in Sprite, raw Eggs and Honey in Grapefriut Juice and have tried to smoke ground up Crickets as a substitute for Roaches. As for the F*ck part, you don’t even want to know.

It could save your life.
>I have not owned a car for 28 months.
I ride a bicycle or walk to work and to just about everywhere else I go. The last time I bought gas for myself it was 1.35 a gallon and I thought that was OUTRAGEOUS. It is not entirely by choice, but it is a freedom like I have never known. A MAJOR side effect of this is the fact that I have quit smoking without trying to quit. Its because of the bike- my body and mind rejected Cigarettes- over the period of 1 year I went from a pack a day to a pack a week... then a pack a month. I haven’t smoked a single cigarette in 6 weeks.

Sometimes dead is better
> I did not care if I ever worked again.
It was not long ago that I lived in a burned out Mobile Home without Water or Electricity for almost a year and a half. I did not eat for a week. I was situated between a Metal Scrap Yard, a Railroad track, a Race track, a Dynamite plant and three very angry German Shepherds. It was noisy, but I was lucky to be there. The rest of my life is Gravy.

Life= Time, Time= Space, Space=The Planets, Human = Race
> I am very good at random thought.
In the second grade we had an exercise where we were to draw lines between objects that matched like a Dog and a Doghouse, a hat and a pair of gloves and a hammer and a nail and a bat and a ball. I had no idea what they wanted me to do. To the point of tears. I realize now that there really were no wrong answers. I can think outside anyone’s box.

Higher Math
> I am very good at basic Math skills...
...but am too sensitive for Algebra, Geometry and whatnot. When you say “Let x=y” all I can think is that it is not fair.... to either of them.

Weird is as Weird Does
> The Checkout line at the Grocery store...
...with the Ex- Mrs Bulletholes. There is a magazine that says “THE 12 BEDROOM FANTASIES THAT HE WILL NEVER TELL YOU ABOUT”. I point it out to ex- Mrs Bulletholes and ask...
” What is this, part one?’
She is in a good mood and giggles. Then I say to no one in particular...
”Me? I can do 12 on one hand”.
She clobbered me.

The strangeness of this life cannot be measured... our faults and weaknesses and mistakes define and make us all the more magnificent.
And Annelisa, this was a blast!!! Thanks!!!
Do I win?
Hold the presses whileI tag young Davy, me boyo, me bucko, me Nephew, who may give me-o a run for the money-0!!!
Who else? Well the Grizzbabe is much too busy
As is Ol' roy
I always love the Ol' Lady; people are STRANGE!!!
And there is Kissyface that I miss...Don't fall over/in/out there!!!
Of course I am leaving one out that is on some kind of weirdo break;

So now I have learned to do this and maybe now I can set up some links for these my electronic Freinds.
oh, my other good friend that has been tagged and bagged her weird post already... already!!!
Are you ready, Mother of Invention??

Wednesday, December 06, 2006


I had planned to do another of my dreams; I am hesitant to write about Lily...I have to take the "spin" out of it as I do not wish to try to persuede or manipulate her...not from here!!!

So Lily knocked on my door; she lived in the same apartments as I and I had taken every oportunity make my presence known for the last 4 months. Everytime I saw her in the parking lot, I just about did backflips and double somersaults that would propel me across the Parking lot and land me at her feet.
Is that charming or what?
I could not let her in my Apartment that night because...well, because it was filthy.
I could not have let in Velvet Skinned Annie with a rose between her teeth it was so bad.
I spent the next two days cleaning.
What a man won't do for Love. We were about to become best friends. We were about to see some hard times.

From a previous post in October, ‘ALONE AGAIN, NATURALLY”

""I know people that are always in love, and then love goes, or they find out their beloved is not who they thought they were and *POOF* they are in love again with someone else.I don't much believe it.I think love is pretty rare and I attach a very high value to it.
We seek in others that which is the deepest reflection of ourselves. To the extent with which we value that reflection, we will either experience, or fake, a sense of self esteem.
At that time in my life I had been divorced for about 3 years; I might have been walking around but inside I was deader than a Beaver Hat.Sure, I missed love... that is to say I missed the softening of the heart that occurs when you find some resonance in your life. The sense of life and joy when you see your reflection and your highest values in someone else as you melt into them.
Then I ran into Lily.
It was a few weeks after dancing with Julie and she stole my heart.So, Lily, we start at the beginning.... ""

In the fall of 2000 I moved into some really cool Apartments. All single story, it had been an assisted living complex once upon a time. I had wood floors, vaulted ceiling and a “Handicap” shower. Of the 48 units there were only about 12 that were occupied. It was like I had the whole place to myself.
One evening in December I walked to the Coke machine by the office. A Red Ford Ranger is pulling into the Parking lot as I make my selection. It skids to a stop and a girl gets out. She’s swingin’ a purse, she’s wearing checkered print pants and a smock of some sort and she has an exhausted but happy look on her face. She is approaching the coke machine and I just cant quite take my eyes off her. Her face, her expression and the way she carries herself was like a reflection...It would be several weeks before I realized how pretty she was. Right then I was forming an impression of who this person was and what they were about and for the first time in a long time I knew that I was mostly right.
She steps up to the machine and gasps”They better not be out of Dr. Pepper again”.
I see the little light and say “I am afraid that they are”.
She feigns frustration , throws up her hands and does some kind of half-assed kick on the machine.
“I have been leaving notes’ she says.
“Yeah, I might should leave one for you as well” says I.
As I walked back to my Apartment I felt like I had been hit by…just insert whatever cliché you like here. It had been so long…like an Ocean of time I had crossed disconnected from even myself. In the past, such a strong feeling of connection would be accompanied by a way in. Some way to make a move.
An hour later I was at the Grocery Store. As I approach the Cashier, what do I see but…no, not the girl, but 12-packs of Dr. Peppers. I grab one. Its all coming back to me now. If nothing else, this is going to be fun. Moreover, I am truly sorry that the Apartments cannot keep enough sodas for a very interesting Lady that has affected me so strongly.
Back at the Apartment, I place the 12 Pack into the back of her Truck. I remember wondering to myself if she would know who had left them. And the note. Yeah, I left a 4-word note, unsigned.

It read, quite simply
“May you never thirst”
I hadn’t felt that good since the end of the Vietnam War!
The next morning there was a little note on MY truck.
She signed hers…”Lily”

I knew we were going to be friends.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006


Sometime in early December of 2000 (OK, it was the 8th) I met Lily. I was completly smitten right away, and as things go with me there were a few obstacles that might prevent her from feeling the same way.
Namely, a husband (she was separated) and a Boyfriend.
But my love, it was strong and I was undaunted.
At some point in the 4 month period that I did everything short of stalk her, I had this dream.
I was walking with Lily through the Park. We came to a blanket laid out in a meadow. There were Strawberries and Champagne and it was getting to be close to sunset. And while Lilly had told me she had a Date later that night, we had time to sit on the blanket, eating Strawberries and drinking Champagne.
“Would you like a footrub?” I ventured.
“That would be the Bomb” says Lily. (I never did get used to that expression)
So off come the shoes and I begin to rub her feet. I’m Lovin it. And I am hoping she is too. It is absolute serendipity, a divine gift to stumble onto this blanket and Amenities that may have fallen from heaven.
“Feels good?” says I.
“Feels good” says she, “But what we need is some lotion”
As if by Magic a bottle of lotion appears in my hand.
“And some pillows” requests Lily. And the pillows materialize under her head.
So as I am rubbing the lotion onto her feet we gaze into each others eyes. Deeply. And though it has been a while since I have seen this look, I can tell that it is time for me to kiss Lily. Our faces draw closer, our lips part, never breaking the deepness of our gazing. Only an inch from the blissful union, my eyes unlock from hers just enough to notice that there is a very small piece of dirt on her upper lip. I look back to her eyes, then back to the dirt. I reach with my hand to brush the speck away.
OH NO!!! Now there is a HUGE GLOP of Lotion where the dirt had been.
I look back into her eyes. The look of anticipation that had been in her eyes a moment before has been replaced by confusion. The look of desire that had been in my eyes is replaced by...
I cannot kiss her with that big glop of lotion on her lip and so far all I have done is make things worse. It demands an explanation. So with the look of real heartfelt sorrow. I look deeply into Lily’s eyes and with a pained voice tell her
I woke up, Howling with laughter!
Other peoples dreams rarely come across well and so much of a dream gets lost in translation.
We really take things far too seriously most of the time. Sometime in early April... (OK, it was the 2nd) Lily did finally come to knock on my door

Monday, December 04, 2006



Dreamed of you last night. You were in the backyard of our old house. It was raining. You were transplanting flowers from one part of the yard to the other and every time you did, there would be like 3 times as many as when you started. You were so delighted. But it kept raining harder and I would go to the door and ask you when you were going to come in.

“In a little while Daddy” you would say.

And I would watch you move some more flowers and the flower2 would multiply and I would ask again for you to come in.

“Just a few more minutes Daddy”

And the rain was falling harder but the whole yard was covered with flowers now. And you were just delighted with what you had done. I went back to the door and stepped into the rain. I had a blanket wrapped around me.

“Aubree’, it all looks so beautiful! Won’t you please come in and get dry and rest with me a while.”

I opened up the Blanket and you and I, wrapped in the blanket, went inside to get dry and to rest.

There were a lot more flowers now than when you started.

There was just one of you.

This was my dream.


Friday, December 01, 2006


Thanks Mom....
... for waiting the six hours for me to apologize for spitting in your face. I was three.
... for playing “Tarzan” with me and keeping a straight face, staying in Character as I wrestled the Giant Snake to protect you, even though it was just a Vacuum cleaner hose.
...for yanking me out of the street while I played Chicken with the Hoodlum down the street and his 55 Chevy.
...for always calling me ‘Stephen” when I was in trouble, giving me a little time to brace myself.
...for taking such good care of me after I moved back home to take care of you after your stroke.
...for laughing harder than I while Shila tickled me to tears on the couch.
...for “hanging on” long enough for me to get back home. Did you hear the wild geese? Is that what that sound was?

My most indelible image of Mom is when she would ask me when Shila and I were going to have a Baby...
“Oh, Mom, I don’t know, sometime here, I guess...”
In her little girl singsong voice she would reply...
“Oh, Stevie, you just have to hurry”,
Then holding her arms as though she were cradling a baby
“It would be so terrible if I didn’t get to hold her”
She missed it by a year and this is my most regrettable regret.
All you youngsters out there, don’t let this happen.

Mom died on December 1st, 1986. Dad was in a VA hospital with Alzheimers.
If there is someone responsible for letting Mom die first, thank you.
Very kind.