Friday, September 16, 2011
Bad Vibes Today
For some reason I found myself so tensed up I was literally shaking. I almost could not type simple commands at work. I have not felt this way in a decade. Pretty scary. I would elaborate more but at this time I think I would only start to relive the feelings and I am very calm now. I want to keep it that way.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Big Brother Influences
Some of my memories are black and gone as I have stated in these pages before. But there are still a few memories. Tonight I clicked on a Facebook link about one of the "On this day..." kind of link about the Doors. The link went to You Tube and for the next twenty minutes I found myself drifting back to the late sixties riding on memory lane.
Memory lane in that era was 1104 S. 27th St. Yes I can remember our house number but not other details of those days. Go figure. The mind is incredibly diverse. But it wasn't the music I remembered so much, after all I have listened to it many hundreds of times since then, rather how I shared the bedroom with my older brother Doug.
Doug was in High School at the time and the era of rock n roll was in full swing. He had a small but terrific collection of albums. The Doors, Jimi Hendrix and the Experience, Cream and others I can't recall. But it is of these three I think really formed an impression on my musical tastes for years to come.
Eric Clapton remains on the top of my list as one of the all time greatest guitarist and to what realm could Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison have taken music had their lives continued. The world is extremely lucky to have been graced by their combined works.
I was but a fly on the wall that watched and observed. Soaking in the vibrations of the late '60's. Thanks Doug for exposing me to the works of these great artists.
Memory lane in that era was 1104 S. 27th St. Yes I can remember our house number but not other details of those days. Go figure. The mind is incredibly diverse. But it wasn't the music I remembered so much, after all I have listened to it many hundreds of times since then, rather how I shared the bedroom with my older brother Doug.
Doug was in High School at the time and the era of rock n roll was in full swing. He had a small but terrific collection of albums. The Doors, Jimi Hendrix and the Experience, Cream and others I can't recall. But it is of these three I think really formed an impression on my musical tastes for years to come.
Eric Clapton remains on the top of my list as one of the all time greatest guitarist and to what realm could Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison have taken music had their lives continued. The world is extremely lucky to have been graced by their combined works.
I was but a fly on the wall that watched and observed. Soaking in the vibrations of the late '60's. Thanks Doug for exposing me to the works of these great artists.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Chiseled Thoughts
I have asked myself a thousand times why. Always the same answer returns as a null. Oh I can guess and I might be right but I might also be wrong. The words flowed as if lava from the core into my conscious being. I cannot breathe any longer without these thoughts. Day after day the sculptor's chisels work them deeper into my core. I am powerless to stop it. I am consumed by it.
Why do so many wonderful evenings together end this way? It has been a trend for as long as I can remember. A good time, friends all around until at home alone, the two of us in the cocoon we call a car. And then the heated words start to flow. Just a few at first until the eruption cannot be contained and the burns in my consciousness are completed, ready now for the mind's sculptor to do the dirty work with the chisel of agony embedding forever a few simple words.
Words that are powerful and hungry for attention in the mind, where already a million distractions exists. But the well placed blows of the sculptor has set the path. I cannot forget. I must move forward with yet another piece of decandent art in the collection of memories I will not be able to auction out.
Why do so many wonderful evenings together end this way? It has been a trend for as long as I can remember. A good time, friends all around until at home alone, the two of us in the cocoon we call a car. And then the heated words start to flow. Just a few at first until the eruption cannot be contained and the burns in my consciousness are completed, ready now for the mind's sculptor to do the dirty work with the chisel of agony embedding forever a few simple words.
Words that are powerful and hungry for attention in the mind, where already a million distractions exists. But the well placed blows of the sculptor has set the path. I cannot forget. I must move forward with yet another piece of decandent art in the collection of memories I will not be able to auction out.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Letter to Mom September 11th 2011
Dear Mom,
I know when we talk on the phone or I end an email to you, the words I love you are spoken or appended. But today I want to explain what those words really mean to me.
Your love has always been unconditional. When I was in some troubled times you were there and the love didn't change. You were always there when I was growing up even though you were mostly a single parent. Your love for me was there then as well. I appreciate the memories I have of you in the stands, freezing I might add, while I enjoyed myself playing little league football. You were there during the summers too, supporting me during baseball. You were there in all I did as a young boy and I should have included you more as a young man. There was nothing I could do good or bad that changed the live you freely shared with me.
But that was then and this is now; more than a thousand miles separates us. But somehow your love transcends those miles and still touches me. It is I who is blessed to have you as my Mom. I wish there were portals as in video games to allow instantaneous passage to and from one place to another. I would certainly be taking advantage of such a system to see you more often. Seeing you once a year is not enough.
As your 79th birthday passed, I reflected on these things and more. It is difficult for me to express this in words written or spoken. I am grateful for everything you have ever done for me and continue to do for me and my family.
It is now almost time for my birthday and this letter to you is my present to myself and a belated gift to you. The cookies are still welcome but it is the love you have freely given yours and my entire life that is the most important thing in my life.
I love you Mom,
Johnny
I know when we talk on the phone or I end an email to you, the words I love you are spoken or appended. But today I want to explain what those words really mean to me.
Your love has always been unconditional. When I was in some troubled times you were there and the love didn't change. You were always there when I was growing up even though you were mostly a single parent. Your love for me was there then as well. I appreciate the memories I have of you in the stands, freezing I might add, while I enjoyed myself playing little league football. You were there during the summers too, supporting me during baseball. You were there in all I did as a young boy and I should have included you more as a young man. There was nothing I could do good or bad that changed the live you freely shared with me.
But that was then and this is now; more than a thousand miles separates us. But somehow your love transcends those miles and still touches me. It is I who is blessed to have you as my Mom. I wish there were portals as in video games to allow instantaneous passage to and from one place to another. I would certainly be taking advantage of such a system to see you more often. Seeing you once a year is not enough.
As your 79th birthday passed, I reflected on these things and more. It is difficult for me to express this in words written or spoken. I am grateful for everything you have ever done for me and continue to do for me and my family.
It is now almost time for my birthday and this letter to you is my present to myself and a belated gift to you. The cookies are still welcome but it is the love you have freely given yours and my entire life that is the most important thing in my life.
I love you Mom,
Johnny
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