MY BIRTHDAY PARTY

I had a huge party planned for my 21^st birthday. Living in the Brown Trail apartments with Kem Keeton, I expected about 100 people. Never mind the logistics of getting 100 people into a two bedroom apartment.

At 7:00, there were probably 30 people there. The kitchen, dining room and living room were packed, and now the stairway was filling up.

Herschel and John came to me. We needed to make a beer run they said.

“I don’t want to go on a beer run!” I said. “I got chicks coming to this party, I plan to be here when they arrive.”

I’m not sure what my plan was for all these “chicks”, I just knew I didn’t want to miss anything.

But they were persistent, and talked me into going on their stupid “beer run”.

The beer run took us all the way to Majestic Liquors, way over on Randall Mill and 820. We bought the beer, got back in the car. I was eager to get back home, all those “chicks”, ya know?

But once underway, all of a sudden John wants to go to his house for a “Pot Run”. His house is way over in Richland Hills.

I’m livid.

“We got enough pot back home to invade Amsterdam. Take me home. I got “Chicks” coming over” I said.

It didn’t matter. My best friends were being un-cooperative, and 30 minutes later, with no “chicks” anywhere around that I could see, we were in front of Johns house. It was starting to get dark. I’d been away from MY PARTY for an hour and a half, and I had visions of all the “chicks” there were being scooped up by all my horn-dog  friends.

On my Birthday!

The nerve of those guys.

We were in front of Johns house, but no way was I getting out of the car.

“You just run in John, get yer shit, and run back out and get me back to my party!”

“No, you have to come in” John says. “I have a present for you.”

“No way’ I said “bring the present out with you. I’m not getting sucked into some black hole that is your house. I got chicks waiting for me.”

Well, the next thing I know, they have physically removed me from the car.

Now I’m stamping my feet in Johns front yard, having a tantrum, and all I can think to say, over and over  is “Take me home. I got chicks.”

Finally, Herschel grabs me by the shoulders, says “Look down the street. See all these cars? Where do you think all these cars came from.”

I look down the street. As far as I can see, there are cars parked, asshole to elbow, looking both ways.

It is a bit unusual.
“That’s weird. What ARE all these cars doing here?” I said.

Herschel shakes his head. “Happy Birthday asshole. If you will just come inside, we moved your party to Johns house. There was no room at your apartment. There are all sorts of chicks in there, waiting just for you. So do you want to come inside, or do you want us to take you back home now?”

I wish my friends Cyndy and Kathy were here to read this post.

They both passed the last two years, and Cynthia was always delighted whenever I would thank Kathy for the wonderful present she gave me for my 21st Birthday.

"THE SOUND OF HUMMING BIRD WINGS"

I got a Facebook message tonight from a good friends daughter.
"Steve, call me please" along with her number.
And you know a message like that can't be good.
I called.
"She's gone" Dawn said. "Mama is gone."
I've known her mama Cyndy since I dated her in1973, Cyndy had lost her son to a suicide a few years ago. She was a handful before she lost her son, and barely kept it together since then.
She delighted in nature, and lived on a lake, and owned one of these exotic cats from Persia or something. Here is a response from her to a comment I made a few weeks ago concerning one of her posts:


"There's a place I love to visit deep into the nature trail. It's a small pond and on the top it has a sort of green moss. I forget what it's called but I'm sure Tom McMurray, could tell me. 
When I go there, I sit in silence, with the fruits of nature surrounding me. The pond remains undisturbed for the most part. 
If you can imagine that small pond without one ripple of water, and can become one with it, it clears your mind. 
I carry that image with me as a form of meditation. 
I regulate my breathing shut my eyes and I can journey down the path, take whatever's bothering me and imagine placing it in my back pack and leaving it on a log and then continue my journey before I reach the pond where there is stillness of the water. 
I find no discord with animals in nature. It's humans interaction that I fall short. 
In nature I can hear a cotton wood tree in the gentle breeze before I see one. The sound of humming bird wings. 
I've been watching the lake melt and freeze up and melt while watching the great blue heron fish. 

Most people don't agree that I have such an exotic cat. But I know that special and odd cat. My soul tells me in a visceral way, that we were made for each other. 
She does things that I cannot describe in spoken words without murdering the English language. 
I can look into her green eyes that go fathoms deep and she looks into my eyes the same way. Spectacular friend and although wild and exotic, I'm somewhat a unusual breed of person myself. We are both exotic and unusual. We are one but separate. 

Once the great blue heron has left, I will go feed the ducks. 
The great white egrets have moved on for the season. I'm waiting to spot a cormorant. 

When I started planting for bird life rather than just flowers and common bushes, they told me I was hooked.
Oh, look! A cormorant!"

I told Cyndy when she posted this comment that it was pure poetry. I know she didnt try to write a poem. It just fell out of her, the way things, beautuiful things fall out of us from time to time.
Goodnight Cyndy. You was just too human.