AAARGH!!! and they be "Pirate Friends!"

Once inawhile, one might find one's self lookin' up the sidewalls of a "cruiser", in my case, someone with a "Sailboat"! (gregorian chant, here)
With that however, comes the rudimentary art of "seduction' precipitated by the "Pirate" whom "unleashes" this nasty spirit upon you! Oh, yeah, "hellbent" to ruin anything you thought synonymous to the 21st century, "well, you mi'as well forgetit!"
This friend of mine...how do I descibe someone "indescribible?" A "Pirate".
So,...you find yourself given to the "winds as locomotion..." Awesome. So,...you find yourself given to the ways of "piracy".
"Can you see yourself without the "veil of recluse"?
...if so,..please "snd by".......

"Tales of the Tropical Gypsy" Chap.3

Not sure of his surroundings, Jo tried to focus through the veil of light and blood. His head roared from pain! The queasiness in his stomach took hold and a volume of "interrupted bile" escaped his esophagus! "FUCK!" What the fuck,..motherf..." Another blow. This one, however, did not take him out. Instead, it made him "reel like a bull gone mad"! As Jo jumped to his feet ready to "play hell" on his attackers, he immediately withdrew any formidable stance that should "warrant another blow to the head".

Looking through the trickle of blood that blurred his vision, there in front of him, were a small group of men brandishing three foot long machette's. To his count, Jo could see clearly he was, outnumbered. The men had no expression on their faces. "Their's" was what one might assume, "Duty". To the left of the group stood an older and sinewy man dressed as one might find a "farmer". He probably crested no more than five feet in stature, but by the stains of crimson liquid on the hilt of his machette, Jo determined this was the "Badass" that brought him down.

Jo's expression brought the next volley of words, all in "fucking spanish!" "Hey! speak fuckin' english, will ya'?!" The response?...another blow of the machette'd hilt carried by the old Man. "Jo, tasting the liquid oozing from swollen lips, sat rigid. "This dude is pissed AND so am I!", he thought. "Hey! I think there's some mistake", he yelled gingerly. "Comprende'?" With that, the "older Man then made a "several paragraph statement" toward Jo that made Jo feel like, this "dude", was TOTALLY pissed at him! "Amigo! What have I done to offend you?! Please, tell me why you're beating the crap outta me and I don't KNOW FUCKIN" WHY!!?!" "Whack!"

"Goddammit, motherf.." "Whack!" This time Jo succummed to the pain. "Ahhh,...the bliss,..take me awayyyyyyy Calgonite!"

Eyes barely open, Jo realised he was bound "hand and foot" by the plastic strips which cut into his skin. Too, he was being carried by several of the other men, followed by the "old Man" only to be placed into a parked van outside his apartment! "Fuck! He thought. Fuck it!" Not only was Jo bound, he was gagged as well, no screams for help..."fuck". The side door opens and Jo is thrown inside. He flails about, uselessly. His captors kick and laugh at him. The "old Man" yells something in spanish and they all recess to the walls of the van. And then, a door to the front of the van opens. "Celeste? Celeste...is it you? Help me, help...another blow and Jo is unconscious once again.

Friends

I haven't written a new post for quite sometime. I've allowed myself to become immersed in outside interests. which, some I might add just take away the "valuable and creative" time I have on this "spinning little Orb". I want to write, while it's fresh in my mind, about "my friends". I started this blog sometime back about "influences" in my life and it named a few (friends). I now however, want to write about those people in my life that have 'influenced" me to some degree, but most importantly, are people whom have "given" to me more than just that, they have given me their "friendship"! There is no chronological order and I will try to write about each and everyone of you. If I forget some of you, please quietly, discreetly send me a note. And forgive me, should I do forget, because over the course of my Lifetime I have amassed an amount of friends I never dreamed possible. Thank you!

My first Friend (and you will all remain anonymous, just for the fun of you trying to figure it out!) I will mention while fresh in my mind (and unfortunately, this blog will be short, but to the point). He is a True Friend, at first I didn't realise how much, whom has Given to me without ever asking anything in return (as you all do), but I always seemed to think there was a "payoff". Allow me to explain; I thought his constant "ushering" of me into "helping" him with his projects, activities, etc., was a way to channel a friendship. You know, you think you're only a friend, because you can help them with "their causes, or their projects and in return, "what do you get"?

Over the past year I realise how "blind" and selfish I was. I am deeply embarassed and hurt by how "I felt and thought". This Friend wanted me to be there for him and to help, yes, but it was more that he wanted me to be there, because "I am a Friend" to him! Last night I embarked on a "new project" with him. he called and asked, "Lidecker, can you help with the store for a couple nights a week?" I thought to myself, "yeah, but it's a Thursday and a Fri..." and without a second thought said, "Yes!" For two reasons....

The first reason is plain, simple and to the point, "I owe him!" He has helped me with my life during those "dark moment's", during that fateful and "day-to-day" time when existence was a daily "chore" (there were quite a few of you whom helped as well and you will be mentioned in further blogs). He gave me Shelter, a new Home and an opportunity to retrieve some of the "creature comforts" I had lost prior. What he asked for in return, well,...here's the second reason.

This Friend has given more than to just me. He has given to everyone, even our town! He has tried to give everyone an "opportunity and a good time" and has NEVER asked for anything in return except, "enjoy!" I remember that fateful time back in 2001, when America saw in recent history, it's country being attacked. September 11, my birthday. My Friend had purchased, prior to the "attack" two tickets to see Jimmy Buffett in Indy (my birthday present). We were to leave that afternoon, but the concert was cancelled. My Friend called me and said, "Dude? Let's go get a drink." So, while America sat, glued in front of their TV's at home, work, train stations and the Bars, in shock and disbelief, we sat at our barstools cursing the Enemy for having our "Jimmy Buffett" concert cancelled! Much Tequila flowed that afternoon!

That will be the one and only thing I will mention about my Friend, because I really do not have time this morning and to recount ALL the wonderful things He has done for me would take pages. I'm sorry. However, it is the most important one, because from "now on and for the rest of my Birthdays", I will not only be reminded what happened to America that day, but I will be reminded of the "most memorable" Birthday of my life and to have spent it with my Friend, well, as they say..."Priceless!"

I love You, my Friend.

Tales of the Tropical Gypsy (Jo, the Pained Years)

Chapter 4

The sudden death of his father sent Jo into a tailspin, out of control and no control over his own life, or destiny. His once conservative attitude had been radically turned inside out! It was the "beginning of the end" of a longtime relationship with Responsibilty. What grew from the newly induced freedom of expression "kicked him between the legs"!

His experimentation with drugs was limited presently to pot (the other stuff either disinterested him, or scared the shit out of him). The backroads in "Lake Country" provided the perfect landscape to escape with his friends for "toking" a joint. Serene hills dotted with orchards of cherry, peach and apple trees spread endlessly toward the dunes and shoreline of Lake Michigan. Miles of vineyards stimulated the senses with the pleasant smell of grapes undulating in massive globes hidden in vibrant green leafed vines. Their juices to be extracted later for the fermentation of fragrant wines so keen and delicious it brought the masses from as far as Chicago. But to Jo and his smoking (cool) buddies, it was just wine to help the "buzz" and soon, maybe too soon, Jo was as some, "led", by peer pressure and time into the

"seedier side" of Marijuana.

Erik (later to be thought of as "Manson") was acquainted to Jo via mutual "potheads". Erik's outlandish behaviour was a constant interest to him. The occassional outburst with several back-handed expletives piqued Jo's interest. "This dude is cool!" he thought.

Tales of the Tropical Gypsy

CHAPTER 3

lessee...where wuz I? Jo! Yes, Jo. As a child, Jo was fucked from the beginning! He had a malady of troubles, #1 being Asthma. "Oh yeah, put a paperbag over my head." Go figure. You can't breathe, you cop an attitude. On the otherhand, if you're a small kinda guy, like Jo, well, you're fucked again; Dudes always pickin' onya,...it was a helluva time to "grow up". But, he did. And with many friends despite.

Jo had "the knack". He attracted people! People wanted to be around Jo. Albeit, the guy was "short, weird and kinda geeky", but! people were attracted to him! "This Persona, this Machismo, it was what People were lacking and looking for". I will call it, "Island Spirit". Therefore, "Tropical Gypsy". As it lay, Jo had friends he couldn't even remember names of....!

Growing up he had opportunity that was not keen to the "family". Jo was a helluv an Artist, but his father saw Artists as,..."fags" and was not going to spend a dime on his son's college ed. ....no fags. *to this day,..I cannot see the relavance. For a year, Jo tolerated the factory, the abuse of a "rednecked" culture to this day he cannot comprehend! However, he lasted a year in order to save money for college,..Art School.

His first day at the University was like looking at the "insides ofa candy jar". The pickens were Enormous! His Art classes abounded with people he could, at last, communicate with. It was by far, the next best thing he'd enrolled in. His classes were intent! The professors, unrelenting, but Jo, determined, was on top of the world.

A semester gone and Jo discovered that paying for the "bills" were a bit from "his league"...Expensive! From there he joined a local community college and with that, "shit! I was in an environment I could not and would not, walk away!" Jo, actually helped some of the Art teachers with the program...and the "dude" was good! So good, his teachers became "students". "WTF!"

It was the winter semester and Jo was knee deep in marketing, business,..you name it, he was there. Anxious to learn more of his world and environment. So,..one aftenoon, as he was sitting, studying for the next exam, in the "student commons (social meeting area) his life, without a doubt!. changed, forever! A new Era was on the rise and "Jo", was there to cut the ribbon for it.

He was a "bouncer, bodybuilder and a devote "man of God". He was confident in all situations, well versed in matters of importance of the day, he could tell a woman that, "she was in need, or just fucking kidding." He was, without a doubt, someone I could "look up to". So it began,,,

Jo had his first experience with selling pot via afriend and aquaintance..."fucking school teachers" to boot! And! The deal went totally bad! Jo, thru a good friend, decided that, "Hey! we can do this!" And it never did happen! it was BullShit!:

Daily Inspiration

As I enter my "run" I shift my attention from my aching knees, years (over forty, good lord!) of running has brought me to this plateau. I try to concentrate on the visuals; my run through Niles and then to the countryside. The pain generally ebbs by the time I am halfway in. Eight miles, not bad. It is catching up, however and I am now training between my mountain bike to help strengthen the joints.

As I was saying, I run out into the country, I love it there. I love the vast stretches of fields of corn and soybean. As the seasons change so do the colours of the crops. Although I am only 3-5 miles distant from town there is still a sense of solitude that embraces my soul as I enter my "runner's trance". It is there I can reflect upon my life past, present and future. It was there also, I ran with the "heartbreak" of my impending and now completed divorce. The running helped me through those times. Not an idea what would've happened had I not tested my body and mind. I dare say it did help keep me from the "barscene" nightly! I digress to a time now past. My apologies, dear Readers.

This morning I was preparing for my run and administering the normal routine of stretching, bending and applying massive amounts of muscle rub and Ben Gay to the knees! As I started from my apartment the pain radiated up into my brain. "Dude! What the fuck are you doing to us?!" I limped back and was preparing the mountain bike. And then it struck me, "No. I am going to run. I just have to work through the ache for the first two, or three miles and then all will be well." So, much to the complaints of "right and left" kneecaps, I limped out of the parking lot and into the streets.

Concrete and asphalt are a runner's worst enemy. The constant pounding on pavement is detrimental to feet, knees and lower back. I try most times to stay on the grassy edge of the sidewalk and during autumn the piled leaves that are scattered atop the walks. It then becomes my goal to eliminate the pain through a conscious effort of visuals, or thought. Today was good...much to think about. I am readying myself for the "greatest concerted effort" to bring to fruition those "goals" I have dreamed about for so many years. I do have to say that my divorce was the "stimulous". I have to "take care of myself", my retirement, my life! Karma! I can now say had this divorce not happened I do believe I might still be "trudging along" dependent upon another. So, I am happy to announce, dear Readers, this body has enrolled back into a University to get the Bachelor's degree I left behind decades ago. I also have to say with much enthusiasm, I have began to administer the necessities to bring my Art Show to a reality! Another painting went to the framer yesterday. And finally,

my Logo! I have sat on this for almost fifteen years and it's time is come. If marketed right it will be bigger than "No Fear" and I daresay with some reluctance (but still optomistic) maybe even a possible equal with Nike! It is "my baby". It could possibly even be my retirement as well as others whom I am wanting to bring into the picture.

So there you have the latest update from the "World's most Unfamous Artist". But! I need to tell you something that happened to me on my run today. As expected the pain left. My pace picked up and I was in the "zone". I LOVE to run! With a passion! No greater feeeling of physical accomplishment! As I was at the halfway point, dear Readers I came upon an elderly woman painting a fence with stain. "Eh?" you ask. Well, this was just no ordinary scenario. As a matter of fact, I was well acquainted with the painting of the fence and was of great interest to me. You see, this elderly woman had been painting the fence now for over a month! It was on a farm and had three horizontal rails and spanned no less than a third mile on one side and a quarter mile on the other and she alone had been doing the painting.

So there she was nearing the last three, ten foot sections and I had to stop to tell her how impressed I was by her fortitude and dedication to the fence. She told me she had hoped to finish the fence before the snows came. I expressed to her that seemed doabled since she had approximately thirty feet left. She responded with, "Oh my, no. I still have to paint the Otherside!" I was floored! I laughed and apologised for my outburst, but the sheer magnitude of this project being done by one, elderly woman just impressed the shit out of me! She could see my amazement to which I responded to her, "It must be a labour of love." "I love the outdoors and I love to be busy and my horses love to be near me when I work." she said. I told her, "You have inspired me. Thank you." She smiled back and said, "Do stop by anytime you see me out here, you humor me."

As I ran away I thought to myself, this is what keeps us alive, goals and aspirations. Without them, we are useless to ourselves and therefore unfortunately, somtimes rely upon others to take care of our needs. As I set forth into my "new life" I know, "I am the only one who can accomplish what I need to do. No one, absolutely no one could possibly do it better than me." I am a happy man, dear Readers. Truly, my wealth is in my hands and my soul! And should that wealth turn into something of a material nature, "I will spread it like butter!"

Thank you for listening through these months of trials and tribulations! Your support and thoughts have been "treasures" to my well being. I love you, my friends!

Inspriration can come from the most uncanny source sometimes! I bid you all a good life, my dear Readers! More to come.

Growing Older

I stopped in the gym the other day to get some weight training in (just to keep the arms and chest toned). It was on the 7.5 mile leg of my 8 mile run. As I entered the free weight room a young man addressed me with this; "It's hard for us young guys to keep up with you." "Eh?" "Did you just refer to me as an "old" man?" "No, sir." "Wait a minute. You just said it again." Needless, to say the kid was dumbfounded. However, he could continue his workout without hurt feelings.
I guess it never really occurred to me that I Was growing older until this last divorce. You see, my ex was 16 years younger and never did it ever occur to me that "age" was a factor in our relationship. Now, it's becoming clearer that maybe it was. Maybe my ex saw me in that way and decided that "no way", "uhn uhn, is that gonna happen to me!" So, what does one do? Change.

I've always been active. I cannot remember when I started running; 14, 15? I don't know. And I have always made it a point to have "younger" friends. The first time I heard someone say, "I'm getting to old for that." "Nope! Not my cup o' tea!" And especially when it comes from someone my own age! Therefore, subconsciously (maybe), I made it a point to "hang" with younger and if not, more active, or people that were like myself, refusing to grow...up.

Suffice it to say that I do relish the fact I can outdistance all my children in a run. The knees as of late have been saying, "Look, man, we gotta talk. Yer killin' us!" Now what? Well, I have always practiced self healing in the form of exercise and diet, with a "smattering" of vitamins. It has always been my way of life along with the "beer bongs", parties and yadayadayada's. Keeping the mind young. As of late, I do recognise the wrinkles, the scattered skin spots and the creaks, cracks, moans and groans. "Shit!" I have to ask, "WTF!!" This ain't funny! "Dr. John? Dr. John?! The patient looks pissed off! What do we do?!"

Res Firma Mitescera Nescit. I like that phrase! And the only Latin I know aside of E Pluribus Unim, which I think loosely translates as; "Yer All Screwed!" The phrase? Well, Res F....... loosely scribed is; "Once you've got it up, keep it up!" I like that! And so, I now ride my mountain bike in order to strengthen the knees, the wrinkles will have to be dealt with by increased training in the gym and my mind?..."keep it young, keep it up!" Like my Hero Mr. Jimmy Buffett says, "Growing older, not up."

It still bothers me though to look each day in the mirror and think of the battle ahead. I fear the young women who will say "sir" instead of "hey there!" No more winks, just smiles. And finding a female to keep up?! My age?! Whoa!! I guess what I am writing about is the inevitable that happens to ALL of us, when it hits, it hits hard! I like blue jeans and I like Rock & Roll. Hell, I've even come to like some Rap! Is that growing old?... Like I said, "keep it young,..."

I confess to trying this "online dating" thing and I'm getting a little "bummed". I keep putting the info for what and who I am looking for and I keep getting the 50's and 60's! Shit! I can do that in'a Bar, it's annoying! Truth is..."I really need a girlfriend!" HA! Part time. Someone to talk to, or listen to and "if it ain' too much to ask,..nice to look at." Gotta keep running and biking! "Lord!" However, maybe it's supposed to be this way; I mean, things DO happen for a reason don't they? And we should look at ourselves during the transition, right? It's good for the Soul.

Gonna wrap this up. Actually, I'm pretty happy with who I am. I'm very active, have a helluva lot of good friends who, like me, want to enjoy this Life while we can. I guess one could say, "I am and have been, Blessed." I have lovely chldren who in return have given me lovely grandchildren. Didn't the Beatles once say, "All you need is Love." ?

I shall leave you with this in mind Dear Readers, my "medicine fer what ails ya",...

Res Firma Mitescera Nescit. Peace and don't forget to help an old lady, or man across the street!

My Greatest Lifetime Influence(s)

When communist Russia wanted to introduce the potato to the peasants as an inexpensive food supply the peasants balked. So, in it's "Big Brother, Commie" way of thought control it introduced the potato in a way which made it more appealing. They built a very large fence around the crop and the peasants upon seeing this, of course, "scaled the fence, stole the potatoes and "viola!!" the rest is history!

In America...credit card companies!!! Hey, know where I'm going?! Can anyone remember a time when one had to have outstanding credit to get a card? Well, when they found that interest rates were the way to earn great masses of revenue they made a pact with the money lending institutions of this great land and decided the EASIEST way to make money was to go to the source...18 years of age, credit card, new wheels and a college student...FULL TIME!! "Holycow!!!" I digress.

Growing up...(wow, WTF!? Now growing Old?!!?)...in rural Michigan, man, how great it was! How naive we were! A time of magic, a time of fear, skepticism, awe and the passing of each day was a step toward a future of unprecidented ideas, ideals and technology. My god! Who would've ever considered a "Cell Phone" as the most dominant item in worldwide communication?! Sorry, giving away the age thing here. And "NO! We didn't walk 40 miles to school, barefoot in winter!" But, how did we survive those times "of impending change"? Our Parents. In particular, my Father. Yes, I know, "What about your Mother", you ask? Well, it's kinda like this....

My Father was somewhat of an enigma to me. He was seldom home (always working) and when he was, he was (for want of a better description) well, sometimes scary, sometimes loving, sometimes strict and sometimes slack. For most of it though I remember this about him as the "greatest influence in my life".

He was "Bohemian". He loved life! He loved his friends! He loved our Mother! And he adored Honour and Chivalry! It was He who taught me from a young age as to how a gentleman should treat a lady. How one was to greet a woman, open a door, a car door, etc., these were the MOST important things a young man should know. Without it, well, one becomes a part of a growing lot not keen to these qualities.

My Father had a great many friend. His passions were the latent inspirations for many desiring to live their lives beyond a mainline focal point, thus the parties, the travels to others' parties, always somewhere, sometime. His passions also were for his fellow man. Where others might stand mute to injustice he dared to question and oftentimes, react. However, before I continue, let me describe my Father to you, dear Readers.

Art (Arthur) was a "tall" man standing a skyscraping height of 5 feet 5 inches! He told me (I stand 5'6") when I was a young lad to "never look down" and always look a "tall" man in the eye, it "makes you an equal". To this day I have enjoyed my height and have never wished to be taller..."why?!" He was a robust man, at one time tipping the "scales" at a mean 210! Where was Richard Simmons? (my Mother's cooking didn't help). As a young man he was a "Golden Gloves Boxer". One story he related to me was the time he and his "buddies" bought an old Packard (automobile) with his "winnings" from boxing and travelled for a couple weeks, if they needed extra cash my father earned it by boxing at the local arenas, winning each time.

He was a young man during the Second World War and was denied recruitment, because of his high blood pressure. It was with a lot of regret his friends went to war and he couldn't. I have a few of the postcards his wartime friends sent back from their stint in the Pacific. Several have the Hawaiian King's palace in the background.

My father's passion for life ran strong. His feelings for our mother were just as strong and sometimes tumultuous. I remember some of the "logic" he would try to pass along to me about relationships; the good days were, "When I die give your mother flowers every week to let her know how wonderful she is." On the other hand the bad days were, "Never get married and teach your Kids the same thing." (I seem to have followed the latter to some extent). Their relationship was like "Ricky and Lucy"! However, despite the "ups and downs", we children grew up with a deep respect for our parents. That respect was sometimes brought about by my father's leather belt AFTER the thin branch my mother used to reinforce that said "respect". Back then, spankings and physical punishment were a way of life. "What happened?"

Some of the memorable things about my father were his humor and his compassion for his fellow man. The humor could've been a "practical joke", or his way of doing things. One in particular, I remember how he trained our German Shepherd to wear sunglasses. Every other Saturday as my father drove his Studebaker pickup truck into town the German Shepherd would be sitting upright in the seat with the sunglasses on. I swear, that dog felt proud to be doing that! His passion for others was a large virtue which extended to his friend, "Willie". Let me describe "Willie".

"Willie" was a very simple-minded man. As children we found as somewhat of an anomalie. He was like Us, only a "Grownup". Willie lived in a one-room shack with a coal-fired stove and a coal-fired furnace (I kid you not). So it was that Willie was constantly dirty from the soot of the coal (bad circulation), smelled of coal and his food was probably the same with the odor and oils from the coal. He had no bath, just a sink to bathe from. He had a hand-pump to draw water from a well (thank god this was indoors) and he had an outside toilet! Frankly, this man was POOR! My father became one of Willie's best friends. I remember my mother reluctantly giving into my father's insistance that Willie come to our home for an occassional meal. And I do remember the "one and only" time Willie had a decent bath was from our tub (which our mother scoured the porcelain off afterwards) and a clean set of clothes (she bleached the washer, too). Willie looked like a "new man".

Willie lived from a small allowance of our great government (I say that sarcastically, because the State would occassionally F...UP his payment....how?!) which barely supported him. So, if the check was not there Willie didn't eat (aside from trapping woodchucks and eating small fish from a reservoir that was filled by a stream which came directly through a pig farmers land). The day came when Willie (whom NEVER EVER begged) came to my father asking for a "sandwich". Willie broke into tears, because he was embarrassed. My father, enraged by the fact the man was already "ragged-poor" grabbed Willie, put him in the Studebaker (the dog sat between the two WITH sunglasses), drove to town and bought Willie enough food to have a feast. My father was generous that way much to my mother's chagrin (we were not the most affluent family on the block thanks to my father's sense of Independence).

Willie got sick, very sick (it was a matter of time due to the man's living conditions) and was hospitalised. He never left the hospital. It was the first time I saw my father cry. I was astounded then, but I know why now...passion. Willie was like a brother to him and my father protected him as a "Big Brother". The second time I saw my father cry I had to leave the room. My father's past time and hobby was collecting beer cans and beer bottles. I remember being awakened by a crash in the middle of the night. I ran downstairs to my father's bar and saw him "crying like a baby" over shattered bottles and crushed cans (I left so as not to be seen laughing,..GRAVE mistake had I been caught).

I could write so many things about "the Man", but my fingers would grow numb. Some good, some bad, but all about a young boy trying to grow up in his father's image. And that was where my father and I drifted briefly apart. I believe it is the responsibilty of every father's son to give the "ol' man" shit while growing up! Young boys "know it all"! Hell, testosterone RULES our world, WE ARE INVINCIBLE! Therefore, we rebel against the "ol' Man". I regret those times. So many times I should have been listening to my father instead of listening to "?" who knows what. However, I did change as well as my father. The circumstances I wish could have been different, but we did bond.

My father suffered a severe Stroke. So severe his Doctor declared him a "vegetable" and wrote him off. We took him home where my sister, brother, mother and I would try to work with him with the best "physical therapy" we could muster in those days. Since I was in school (college) I remained at home so I could be with my father. I worked with him every night until the day came he said he wanted to go to work. We had arranged with his employer a short work schedule in which I could take my father to work and sometimes pick him up afterwards. **This is important; back then I was one of those "longhaired Hippies" that most men like my father denounced, mine tolerated me. As my father and I grew closer I "started to change" Somewhere inside I felt the need to please him rather than rebel. The following day as I was to take my father to work I surprised him, I cut my hair. Mind you, it was a supreme sacrifice! It was half way down my back. And then, "it was short"....

As we pulled into the parking lot of my father's workplace I helped him from my VW Bug (he tolerated the VW) as he always did. When I turned to get back into my car he said, "Come with me." We walked together into the building and as the men came to greet him (as they always did from RESPECT and ADMIRATION) he announced to them, "Everybody, this is my Son." He was so f.....g proud of me cutting my hair for him! I was floored! And I was proud of him! Here was a man who worked his entire life for his family shot down by a devastating Stroke, back to what made him feel whole again, WORK. After all, he was a decendant of Vikings and it was an honour to go into Valhalle with your Sword!

One night I heard the TV still on in his bedroom. It was very late and my concern was maybe he had fallen asleep with it on. I opened the door to his room, my mother fast asleep and my father sitting on the edge of his bed with a strange look, almost fearful, on his face. I asked him if he was okay and he said he "had a bad dream". I tucked him back to bed and retired for the next day. The following morning as I was ready to take my father to work he expressed to me that my mother was taking him. The look upon his face concerned me, something was not right. I looked at him and for the first time in my life I told him, "I love you." (you have to understand that the Lidecker Clan is not the most expressive of families). My father cried for the third time in his life as well as I, something was wrong. During one of my Art classes I heard a phone ringing in a nearby office and deep inside I knew it was for me. The woman came out calling my name. I picked up the receiver and from the other side was my girlfriend's broken voice explaining my father had died. "He knew." He knew it was "his" time.

I look back over the years and with his passing I am constantly reminded he has never left me. I am his "prototype", proginy, clone. I have become my father. Maybe, I always was. And I look at my son, James, destined to be Me. Scary. I see in him my "Double", his ideals, appearance, tastes,..exactly like mine. I just hope he strays from the more "Bohemian" side of me! So far, so good. Its strange, this life. What is it exactly We are looking for and why? DNA certainly rules the next generation as well as a mother and a father has influence upon our lives. And yet, maybe it is My Life that has to fulfill the expectations my father gave to "himself" and fell short of. I sometimes wonder that of my son as I see him now and where he "can be".

In short, "HA HA!" no pun intended, my Father's influence eludes me! "I still don't KNOW what I want to be when I grow up!"

Thank you, dear Readers for listening. Love your Parents, they hold the "Book" which they will pass on to you someday. PEACE.

And to my "Older Offspring" Seth and Audrey, I apologise using your Brother as the "only" sibling metaphor in this blog. Look at it this way, "you two certainly ARE better looking!" :) ...shit's gonna hit d'fan!

Where has Summer gone?!

It's August. Summer is passing like sand on a dune. Each day the dune shifts. Time is a precious commodity to me. My Divorce, not yet signed papers in hand, is finally...final. My passionate desire to write out my "life" as it was has now taken a different view. "The passing of time" heals all. How true. And now, where?

At times I wonder if I haven't got a bit o' dat "A.D.D.". Focusing on one thing at a time can be challenging. I've so much to do. Started a story about the "Tropical Gypsy", started a website for the World's most Unfamous Artist, I'm drawing a quizical look upon my face right now. This has got to stop!

'Nuf bitchin'. I started to write this blog to update everyone about the past few months and where it has brought me. And "danged if I don't have to believe Karma has been very interesting to me!" Some things REALLY do happen for a reason! My Divorce, it had to happen in order that I confront myself and RELY upon me. I must say however, I do have a group of wonderful and loving friends. A LOT OF THEM!! Thank you!! My children, too! Thank you for checking on yer ol' man!

What is very interesting is I feel more comfortable with myself. No fear of hurting someone's feelings, because they cannot accept, or refuse to discuss matters. Human life is a very delicate virus! We use speech to communiicate, we as tribes speak a common language, yet, things can sometime be misunderstood! How perplexing! And how amusing. Whatever, eh?!

To date, I and a group of friends have rallied to the cause of cleaning up our little town of Niles. This came about AFTER I moved into my apartment and for the first time ever noticed trash and litter adorning every sidewalk and in front of store shops. The worst was to find a daycare in downtown riddled with scrub trees growing around it and trash outside and inside their area. My reaction was, "WTF?!" Why doesn't somebody do something about this?" Thus was born, "Uptown the Downtown Gang". We cleaned it and continue to find areas in the city to be cleaned. And we will maintain theses areas. It's kinda neat to have a dedicated group of people who really care! I'm leaving this short for now. Until I get Internet service in my apartment, well, let's just say "it might BE A.D.D. !!!

nah!

Update from the World's most "Unfamous" Artist

Once again I am sitting at my "office", a.k.a. "The Hob Nob". I've been distracted from my story telling of the "Tropical Gypsy" only to say to myself' "Why not get Internet at my apartment?" "Nuff said.
The divorce is in it's final stages, just waitng for the papers to come in and sign. "Sad". Ah, well, such is life. I am beginning to realise "things DO happen for a reason". Albeit "hardtimes", goodtimes",..each is an opportunity for change. I reflect over some of my earlier Posts in this blog and can say, "Wow!" Thank my "Lucky Stars" I had the Internet , Friends and a Therapist! Although I don't feel it, or admit to it, but I can finally say, "I'm too old for this!"
My Heart (as all things do with time) has softened from the blows of "uncertainty". With not the Interests and Concerns and Kindness of Friends, who knows what my Heart would have become. I know of one individual (a friend from a long time ago) who lost a spouse decades ago and became one of the most "bitter" people I know of! This helped! I thought to myself I "never would become so vile" as to not greet each day with a "Thank You"!
What to do next? I have (erratically) began my short story detailing the life and times of the "Tropical Gypsy", a character I have affectionately equated with myself (I'm sure some of you have concluded that from the beginning). Too, I am in the "birthing throes" of beginning the pieces (some have been in the make for years) for my Art Show this Autumn. I have delved deeper into bringing my Design business to fruition. At the same time I have begun to "relax", not completely and not without some anxiety toward a still "uncertain" future. I certainly will continue to "air" my existence within this Blog in order to keep some of your interests piqued.
My goals?... 1. get back to Nicaragua before the end of the year to chronicle more of the "Tropical Gypsy" and to visit my Friends. 2. To have my Art Show and be it a success, or not, that will be the "hilight" of my Art career. 3. Also, this "thing" deep within my Heart, is to "connect" with my children and grandchildren before I "board that Sailboat ride into the unchartered Celestial Waters of Life's Continuance ". So, my Dearest Readers, 'nuf said for now. I will try to get back on track with my short story soon. Much to tell of "Jo" and "Celeste".
In the meanwhile, "Life is not like a Box of Chocolates", Life is like the most delicate flower; It grows, blooms and dies. It is how it is painted and remembered at the time of it's departure and thereafter. I bid You all, LOVE!
From the electronic keyboard of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", a.k.a. "Tropical Gypsy".

Tales of the "Tropical Gypsy"

Chapter 2


Born into the cold war and in the Midwest with the shores of Lake Michigan a half hour away, he was the middle child of a struggling family "trying to make a living". His father, a hard working, hard partying and robust man, insisted on trying to "make it on his own", only to make repeated failures. His mother, a bored young woman from the hills of Tennessee, spent her days dreaming of the career that never came, the highlight of her life playing onstage of the "Grand Ol' Opry". Indeed, his parents were quite opposites and constantly at odds with one another which the children made it an opportunity to play outdoors instead of enduring the heated discussions inside.

Jo was a young lad with an extreme imagination (later this would be his ticket to the Art world) and a penchant for role playing. His favorite characters were Pirates. The lure of the seas, tropical isles with emerald green and torquoise waters, beautiful wenches...what more could a young boy dream of? Complete "controlled chaos". This role playing eventually gave way to sailing upon the waters of Lake Michigan. Jo didn't own a sailboat, but his friends did and sometimes a complete stranger would approach him to help "crew" for an afternoon. The Great Lake was a magnet! It's waters ever cold and clear, a deep blue so alluring many a man and ship had gone to the bottom plying her unstable surface. Yes, the Lake had the tenacious ability to "turn" from a calm to violent storm in seconds! This too, was very intriguing to Jo.

Drifting through alcohol and drug induced relationships took it's toll. At the age of 30 he was "OD'ing on cocaine and speeders. What the F..k!? He was a brilliant and budding Artist not seen in the Midwest for decades. His Art reflected the turmoil inside his mind. Approached by mentors and agents, he shunned them. His philosophy was simple with his Art; "It ain't fer sale. You can't buy me."

So it was Jo drifted aimlessly with the occasional painting and, or carving that would certainly and by ALL means capture the interest of a potential buyer. It was then that he would succumb to "whoring" his works for the money to pique his interests with some "good" coke. Inevitably his "free-spirited" nature would caught up with him one day and sure enuff, he was the proud, scared, intrigued father of a baby girl (outa wedlock, of course)! He doted her none the less. She was "clay" to be molded. Mother on the otherhand, knew of Jo's nature and demeanour. She WAS the glue to the new family. A few years later and Jo was the father of a baby boy born on Christmas Day. To Jo this had some significant meaning, therefore he named his new son after the man he admired and also was born on Chritmas Day, Jimmy Buffett. Well, he didin't call him Jimmy Buffett, but the label was there. After years of dealing with the turmoil Jo's wife left, took the kids and got outta town. Jo's penchant for a "Bohemian" lifestyle took it's toll on the young family. "Shaken, but not stirred", Jo remained for his children; he had a responsibilty to them no matter what and what greater bond than "love"?

Years passed, the kids grew, more relationships and of course, the inevitable; another marriage which also had gone sour. Devastated, Jo resolved to remaining a "lone wolf" the rest of his days; "love, it seemed, was just not his 'cup of tea"! So here he was, staring at the Angel above him who hurried to his side as he fell to the floor. Instinct told him to run...he did. Leaving the cafe' he rounded the corner to his apartment only to "look back". Celeste was in the window! Watching him leave! "Don't, don't look back!" "Too risky! Gotta focus, man!" Jo's pace was weakened by thoughts and the "angelic face"; his rescuer. "Damn, that was close!" He placed the key into the lock and turned the knob. As he entered he felt that something was different,..wrong. Again, the Dark took him away.

Tales of the Tropical Gypsy

CHAPTER ONE

He sat looking out window of the small cafe' sipping strong coffee with trembling hands, the result of a three day binge involving his favorite, Don Julio Tequila. "Gotta quit this shit", he thought. He knew too well it was only a thought, his demeanor logically knew better.

Another day, another struggle, not with a bottle, but with the ordeals he'd endured for months. "Change, I need a change". He was tired. Tired from months of dealing with "uncontrollable cicumstances". Tired of not knowing what each day would bring. His world was a "Bohemian Rhapsody" with the lyrics of good times and pain. Middle-aged and unsure of himself he was definitely a good candidate for "emotional suicide", that crossover from sanity to insanity. Artists, they have that potential. As he rose from the small table he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. "NO! Not me!" and succumbed to inviting hands of darkness.

"Sir, sir? Are you alright?" she asked. He was dazed, confused and surprised to find that not only the pain was gone as quickly as it came, but the young woman holding his head from the tiled floor was as beautiful as an Angel. "Am I dead?" The young woman reluctantly laughed, they both laughed. As she helped him to his feet he thanked her and apologised for the incident. "Are you okay to walk?" she asked. "Yes, don't know what came over me, but I feel fine now." "My name is Jo, without the "e". May I know the name of my rescuer?" "Celeste, with an "e", she replied. They laughed again. For the first time in months, or had it been years, he felt something inside that he'd long ago given up and never wanted to feel again, ever. As he looked into her eyes he'd realised he had to leave.

"Thank you, Celeste. I owe you one". He started for the door. "Jo? Do you come here often?" she asked. "Somedays", he said. In his mind he didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. "Why?" he thought. "Why am I so afraid?" "Gotta go, Celeste. Maybe we'll meet again." He walked out of the cafe' into the heat and humidity of the early morning. "My kinda weather", he thought to himself. "Good day for a run." And as he walked back to his apartment his mind would not let go of the vision of the beautiful angel he'd just met. as well, Celeste watched out the window as Jo walked away.

Little did Jo know his life was about to change forever. The adventure ahead of him was two blocks away, waiting in the studio of his apartment.

Tales of the "Tropical Gypsy"

Coming soon, dear Readers, "Tales of the Tropical Gypsy" as told by the "World's most Unfamous Artist" and a continuance of the "Chronological History of the Artist".

Life's a 4way Stop, procede with caution.

It's been a long time since I've written anything. Feel rusty. So, I guess what I will write about briefly is where I am at in my life. Some of you know already I have a studio apartment which overlooks the river here in "uptown" Niles. Some of you have seen what it looks like and already they say, "It's you." ...yes, it definitely is. Each room I and my friends have painted different colors to reflect and evoke a particular mood. The living room, as small as it may be is in hues of green to reflect tranquilty and a feeling of nature. The bedroom we painted in muted tones of mauve to help with sleep (and boy do I need a good night's rest)! The kitchen is small, so we painted everything brilliant white to help it appear larger, but also to enhance the colors of fruits and vegetables that are in the hanging baskets. Last, the most important room, my Studio. We detailed it in colors of pale peach and maize. These colors help my Art (which now adorn the walls) stand out and give people an opportunity to see each piece individually. Funny, those same pieces adorned the walls of my former home, yet now it would seem people are seeing them for the first time.
I love my place above the view of the river, so tranquil and inspiring. I cannot wait until I am completely settled to begin my new projects and to finish some old. The movement inside my mind is becoming restless, I haven't felt this way in many, many years. It is time for me to create. I see now that what has happened in my recent past has been either for the good of all, or maybe, as my oldest son Seth said, "Karma". He may be right. I needed that four way stop sign to be placed in front of me and was forced to choose a direction. The upside is I know the direction I am taking. It is the continuation of my life, the catalyst for my Being, the opportunity to prove to myself the Artist I really am! That's hard to swallow, but I am a good Artist, a "damned good" Artist! I can f... up most things, but my Art, well, it's my Story, my Life replicated in form, shape and colour for all to see, critique and feel.
So, for now, until I can get Internet, there will be these short interludes between the "Chronological History of the Artist." Goodbye and never be indecisive at that "crossroads".
From the "World's most Unfamous Artist", a.k.a. "Tropical Gypsy", Karma!!!

and then.....

Dear Readers, sorry for the absence, but I have been busy. You see, this weekend (April 25th)officially became the date for my "New Life". On the books it will begin May 1st, but I and my sister Arlene started painting yesterday. From the photos above you can see the beginnings. It's slow, but it is my "new home", finally!! I have my good friend "Muh" to thank!. The location is perfect; a block from downtown, sits overlooking the St Joe River and the view from two large windows will inspire me! Arlene, "my sister" has been by my side all weekend painting and helping me set the "mood" for the apartment. Two days! One room! Tedious, but the outcome is totally "John Lidecker".

I have to thank the "Pirate" for allowing me to live in his home whilst this "road to somewhere" finally paved a driveway to rest my worries. Living with no home..."wow!" So now, well, now it IS MY Life!

I am very close to getting back to some "normalcy" (?is that real word??). It's the Internet I miss most now. It was and is my way of doing business. Amazing, eh?! Sending files across fiber optics, satellites,..and sending them thousands of miles, too! Love it!

The other thing about my apartment is the opportunity to do my Art. I have a lot to catch up on. I have several pieces I have been sketching and I have the idea for several "performance videos". These will be the "shock value" that I so love! Hey! If anybody wants to participate let me know! "No, Pervs, no nudity and porn! Sorry!" I want to touch upon those things in life that ARE a part of me. Hard to describe. Sometimes my inspirations come from deep inside. Society is my biggest inspiration! People, events...I'm pressed to express myself through Art. Sometimes I wish it wasn't there, because that passion for can be a bit debilitating. I KNOW that's one of the reasons for my current situation....and, oh yes, "blaming me for an excuse to have an affair!" Oh well.

I'm sorry, dear Readers, if my writing is a bit sketchy right now. My mind is full of tasks, ideas, things to do, etc. I need to find a time soon to sit down and catch up. However, I wanted to share my joy of finding A Home! And again, I have my friend "Muh" to thank. Arlene to thank. And..."Pirate". As well as you all!

From the transitional palette of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", this is the "Tropical Gypsy" bidding all of you Peace and Good Fortune!

Can an Artist receive disability comp?!

Artists! Not only eccentric, outspoken, outlandish, "different", "a tad bit left of center field", but on the whole...Nuts. F...ing Nutz!! Serial, dear Readers! I'm talking WTF?! How many people in their right minds (or is it left?!) want to be an Artist?! I tell you, it's an affliction! An abomination of Life!! Damned be the juices that flow and course through our veins!! Artists are one foot (as in appendages, foot) in the gene pool of insanity and one foot out. Maybe that's why we can tolerate idiots and people that just, well, are "not all there"! Actually, some people scare me! Take the drunkard I wrote about a few blogs back, or my friend Laurence whom I have written of (no offense, Dude, but, yeah, you scared the "beejeezus" outa me and I respect you for it to this day). ...plug; please read of Laurence's exploits at http://www.wakinguphorny.blogspot.com/

Tonight I sit here typing to the masses, or lesser of the quotient, telling you all of my life and it's story. Granted, it was to be a "Chronological History of the Artist", but it sort of, along the way, became...well, Me. "This is ME!!" All about Me! Who the f... cares for cryin' out loud, except Me?! I guess in the end though there is a story, a comment to be made here. As in the famous line sung by the great "hippie-cowboy" Willie Nelson, "Mommas don't let yer babies grow up to be Artists..." Yeah, it's kinda like that. I never asked to be an Artist, it was There. I never really had to study Art, but I wanted to learn some "rules". Yes, there are really rules to Art! Just so happens I had an opportunity in my life to learn those "rules" from Artists who taught the "rules of the Masters". To say less would be to say, "Yeah, I know Karate, took two classes and decided I could go and kiss some ass!" ...right.... and you got that broken arm from wha..?!

I sat Saturday evening drawing, actually drawing from my soul at my favourite haunt these days, the Nuggett. It was a quiet evening, not much of a crowd. I decided to "curb my urge" and took my drawing pad and writing utensils along for the ride. It's hard to explain, dear Readers, but I cannot "just sit and draw", it has to "come to me." At times it might take hours, some times days and some times, years. I feel that "time" has approached. As I have advertised, "A Chronological History of the Artist". That evening I sketched what I need to do over the next few months, maybe years. I have a "new direction" for my Art. "I'm excited!" All I need is a "home" with a studio, or a studio and a home, or a studio with a place to sleep and eat. This Limbo shit is getting tiring! Once again, may I get an applause for my friend Laurence?! He endured a lot. Dude, I have to come visit. There will be much libation in the form of Tequila (hope you like Don Julio!).

None the less, dear Readers, I must profess the above photo is from a painting I executed in 1974. It's an abstract done in oils. This part is true; from start to finish I never realised what I was doing, it just "flowed" onto the canvas. The idea came to me as a feeling. Little did I know I was painting my own portrait! It also was at that time my period of "experimentation" with wines. "Oh yeah.. I'm sure some of you know of what I speak!!" Lessee, back then it was; Boone's Farm, Annie Green Springs, Ripple, Mad Dog 2020, Cold Bear(?), and the dreaded "Maneschewitz"!! The last was when all else was partaketh of and delivered a two day hangover from Hades! No wonder the Jews wandered the desert for 40 years, shit like that you couldn't see a lamp post at night if it were in front of you! Great for losing weight!!

So, I ask, "can I be compensated for being "borderline nutz"?! Eh?! I thought so.... Just gotta live with it. However, I wouldn't be who I am, right?! Actually, I kinda like it. I mean I can do some shit and get away with it,...just because!!! Therefore, the Artist is now beginning to "crack the shell" formed by years of submission and devotion to,...?!? I dunno, was it nothing?! I mean, here I sit wondering where I'll be in a few hours, days, weeks; fear of the unknown can be hard to deal with as some of you are aware. I realize that this "thing" happening in my life at this time is THE catalyst I have needed to create! It's tough, but it's Life! Each day is an emotional cocktail mixed with a bastion of emotions that could be overwhelming, but I LIVE for it! In the end I "will triumph!" my Art will be my reward! Thank you, my "soontobe X"! Thank you for reducing my life to the most rudimentary elements devoid of love from another and the security of "home". I am growing. I am being taught to rely on Me, not you. I will dedicate my first "new" piece in honour of that! ...sounds a bit like some anger there, eh?! No, frustration. I miss comfort, but comfort made me dependent and I know where that dependency has placed me.

Okay, how 'bout that for "compensation" now?! ...I thought so. Well, tomorrow brings forth another adventure for the "World's most Unfamous Artist". Thanks for listening, dear Readers, all of you have been my latest and greatest canvas to date! I'll write again when I have the opportunity to the internet!!

Peace Out!

Man, I need a vacation!

Family

Not much time as I am sitting here in my "office" (Hob Nob Restaurant) sipping coffee writing this short, yet thoughtful blog of my childhood family. It may appear a bit vague due to the constant interruptions by patrons, but I will try my best for the time being.

I look around me and see the world rapidly changing as it has for several decades. Yet in these uncertain times I've come to understand what it is that makes up the true "spirit" of humankind. It is "family". Family from my years past a long time ago gives me the "spirit" to stand up against what might be true, might be contrived, might be manipulative in this "global depression". I call it "depression", because what is presently happening is our Media turning our lives into hell via daily reports of a declining economy. The threat of increasing gas and oil prices and the continuing threat of terrorists are blatantly placed in front of our faces. "Where the hell is the good news?!" Thank goodness for those times long ago when "Family" counted and STILL remains! The Media tries and sometimes succeeds and that proof are the piles of Vickie's Secret thongs with words, or phrases, or garnishments of lace and whatever adorning a piece of "string". I know, I lived with two females a short time ago who thought it was so cool to have "string" ride up their asses! Go figure! "Max the Cards we got "bling" in our asscracks!" Good to be 55 and a true Jimmy Buffett fan, 'cause I haven't worn a pair of underwear in 30 years ('cept funerals, weddings and job interviews). Sorry, my bad, but had to share it. "It's a guything".

It was the early 60's and living in the country was the greatest thing since "biscuits and gravy". We had our little neighborhood there on US 31 connecting Niles with Berrien Springs. Many a pet died from the passing of 3 tons of steel when they innocently roamed from our yard to cross the highway in search of "what lay beyond". It was a mournful loss when our dogs would die from those accidents. I remember the night we heard screeching tires and a thud from outside and my family immediately knew what had happened. Our German Shepherd had been hit by a speeding car and crushed the radiator of the vehicle. Sad, but amazed by the fact the animal survived for a few minutes after obliterating a piece of iron, copper and steel. But, as with all kids growing up in the country we soon had a replacement and life continued.

When I mentioned "neighborhood" let me describe a country neighborhood. The houses are separated by yards and miles. We can't hear our neighbors unless they called, or were outside yelling and waving to gain one's attention. Ours was unique in the fact we had 3 homes within walking distance and all were within a short distance of a reservoir, the "leftovers" from a gravel pit still being used. As kids we enjoyed it's amenities in the form of swimming, fishing and ice skating in winter. It was a wonderful time to be a kid in our neighborhood! And! It was a wonderful time for friendships that were bonded by the realisation that they were your "closest" friends, because they lived nearest.

It also was the height of the "Cold War" which played on the minds of everyone. Grade school taught us to hide under our desks in case of a Nuclear Attack....right. The Cold War's prescence was a very impressive "mindf..." at that time. I remember an evening in the yard with my father when I heard a loud explosion. I think I nearly died from fright! I thought the Commies were bombing us and I was wating to see the sky fill with the "radiated mushroom". It took my father some time to calm me down and told me it was the sound resonated by the overhead fighter planes breaking the sound barrier! We survived and we continued with our daily lives despite.

We lived modestly, my father constantly struggling to create his own businesses. I think that's where I have received my "independent spirit". He was "hellbent" on being his own boss (actually, my mother was his real employer) and his confidence in himself was strong due to years of preparation, education and on the job training. He was that "dying breed" of man that was the "perfectionist" Myself and my brother share those traits in our trades and careers. My father's downfall as well as my own I find, is "Marketing". My father eventually took a job in order to keep the bills paid on time and the threats from my mother wanting a "better life" for she and her children. He did well later in life, yet was cut short due to a series of strokes. My brother to this day has done well for himself and is a part of that "breed" I mentioned from being trained by my father in their trade. He has the attitude and fortitude to "do what he sets out to do".

My sister learned from an early age (gonna catch hell for this) how to "manipulate our father. She was a "daddy's girl"; the "apple of his eye". If ever she wanted to raise "warfare" against me it was our father she'd run to and proclaim that I "pissed her off"! She was good.

That was country living. And I wish I had more time to tell it today, because I really need to reflect on my past. I will leave it for next time when I have "more time". Till then, from the "office" of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", I'm outta here.

Bedrock!

Affectionately "coined" by my "sis", Arlene..."Bedrock" a.k.a., downtown Niles. My home of 55 plus years and it's Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting here in my "temporary office" at the Hob Nob Restaurant mulling over bids, layouts and an unseen, unknown future. Niles, that little town on the river, I have to admit I love this town. Everyone says, "Move away, there's nothing there." I have always seen the other side of the coin and it's just perspective. Maybe once again it IS the Artist in me. I see the river as blue! I have friends and family here. This interlude in my life is a "temporary imposition", a test of my character, my integrity and my "faith" in myself.

It's been sometime since I have had "my home". I neglected to keep that little house on Maple street. I sold it in a time of weakness placing my bet on a secure future. "My bad!" I long for peace of mind. I realise it hasn't been there for quite some time, I have been fooling myself through the years that I had a home, a wife, security. Interesting. Interesting how the world can just "toss aside" any sense of remorse, guilt, etc. when it comes to the "maintenance" of people. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, really. Actually, I feel stoopid for my investment. I feel abandoned. However, the other side of the coin has it's (her) own story which I would imagine is justifiable as well.

Yesterday I was going to go out with friends. During the morning and a good portion of the day I worked on signs, in the cold. I went back to my "temporary lodge" to clean up and call the "Pirate" and "Sis". Instead I had an overwhelming desire to just lay down. I set up my laptop and played old movies (no TV, tough to get along without), no internet service (gotta go to my "office" for that). sleep overcame me. Maybe the cold, maybe just the weeks of anxiety, or both! However, it was for the moment, "my cup o' tea". Today, I feel better. My mind is beginning to see beyond the fog and I'm pressing my self to get more business. Nice thing about my talents as a signman, despite the economy, SOMEBODY needs advertising.

It's snowing outside, not laying down, but melting. Spring has a way to remind us of that long silence shared by many who live here in the cold waiting for the temp to edge ever higher. I saw a Robin on my run last week and was reminded that this cold will soon pass. I love warmth! I love green. I love the sound that a Robin makes. It all says "soon, the weather will bring our much needed relief!" Today is just a day to relax and once again, reflect. Tomorrow, well, the Robin's are here till the seasons pass.

The River is blue, dear Readers! It's just the colour of paint we lay down on the canvas.

From the "office" of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", time for a beer!

Time for another story about influences. Next blog.

PEACE!!!!!!!

I feel like a Gurka

Life is a frenzy at this moment, dear Readers. I have hired an attorney at the last moment. I cannot handle this by myself. Knowing I was going to "throw in the towel" would've been the WRONG statement and answer to 11 years of living a life with someone else, sharing, growing, developing, then the inevitable. I don't know where this will take me, some moments I don't care, but! I have to!
The pain is excrutiating, homeless (Laurence, my empathies), not knowing what tomorrow will bring, holding by a thread. I have to say, there "really is a fine edge on the sword" of sanity vs. reality. THANK GOD FOR THERAPISTS!! I'm heading off this evening to see mine.
Trust in me, dear Readers. YOU have stood by me with great words of advice and wisdom. I am by contrast, weak from the months of deliberations over a relationship I "still haven't a clue" to. I just think now of my future, my plans, my goals. I need to focus!
I will survive, regardless of the outcome. I have my dignity! I am afterall,
the "World's most Unfamous Artist"!!
DAMNED!! Why do Artists have so much stinking drama in their lives?!! :)
We all do.
I give my thanks and Love to all who have stood with me and will continue to report to you All as much as I can since I no longer live at the home which once sheltered me.
By the way, I saw my Cardiologist yesterday for my checkup and it was good news......"Run, Forrest!! Run!!!

Reflecting

Yesterday was a "somber" day for me. I had time to think since I was at a jobsite for one of my clients; I was installing vinyl on their trucks. When I'm working for myself, such as on a site painting a sign, or installing vinyl graphics, I think. Generally the work is accomodating for such, because it's something I've done for most of my life and career. But, yesterday as I said was, well, "not my cup of tea".

As I "wrap up" this impending divorce my emotions range from "up" to "down". Typical. Every relationship that comes to an end one, or both parties endure the "emotional consequences". So, while idling my time I reflected upon the past 11 years with my "soon to be X". I thought of the times we spent together, traveling up the coastline of Lake Michigan visiting the resort towns and the times we spent in Saugatuck (the destination of our Honeymoon). Saugatuck was our "special getaway" to relax at the local B & B's. Many a wonderful weekend and most times I would leave with one, or two of my "collectible" Hawaiian Jams shirts (the BEST!!). I reflected on the times we spent on Cozumel Island snorkeling in turquoise water so clear you could see for hundreds of feet. The times spent going "down Island" visiting the resorts, or our favorites, the beach bars". I reflected upon the time we spent Halloween in New Orleans with Friends whom had a time share right in the middle of the French Quarter. I reflected on the many times I would have flowers sent to her workplace, "just because". I reflected upon the many cards I created for her, because "buying" a card would not suffice. I thought for many hours yesterday, dear Readers and I came to this conclusion.

LOVE comes with no "assembly" instructions. LOVE has no guarantees, no warranty, no returns. It is an emotion expressed when two Lives come together and allow all walls to come tumbling down. WE are at it's mercy. Therefore, I came to understand that "I" am responsible and no one else can be held accountable. Seriously, dear Readers, can one put a price tag on LOVE?! Do I regret having fallen in love? No. Am I upset at the outcome of years spent? Yes. However, I cannot bring myself to making this divorce an enterprising opportunity for another attorney (no offense, Jim). I am going to represent myself. You ask, "???!!" If I cannot defend my passions, my flaws, my love, why would I entrust anybody else and who better than I to speak up? I understand the possible outcome of all of this, it's all "Legaleze". And honestly, I don't care the outcome. I have only one thing I want from this end of this affair and that is,.."the Memories", Cozumel, New Orleans, Saugatuck, it goes on. I don't want that to go away. As I mentioned before, "How can one put a price tag on LOVE?"

I am moving out this weekend, because I cannot take the feeling of hate from her. I know she hates the fact I have been living here, because she wants to get along with her "new life" and, so do I. Come the following week we meet with a Mediator, how debasing. I guess I truly am an Artist like I have mentioned in previous blogs, an "emotional rollercoaster". I'm ready for an "Emotional Rescue". Summer's coming and the "Pirate" and I are planning sailing trips. The summer is always a band-aid for "winter's cruelty" and this passing winter held no stops!!

I have always had success and failure as my teachers. I guess that makes me an apt pupil! But, I have never let failure take the pleasure of presenting itself in the form of a "diploma". I will prevail once again only to engage new opportunity. LOVE! What a life I have lived, dear Readers. What friends I have, thank you All!! You are unique in your own ways and eccentricities (take that as a compliment), because this Artist, honestly, cannot tolerate the mundane.

The photos above I found this morning as I was packing items. They are from several years ago when I was invited by my good friend, Tom Rickling, in San Diego to a Jimmy Buffett concert out there. Irony came in the form of some of the worst weather San Diego had experienced and actually cast cold rain and wind on the area (my curse for going to too many JB concerts I'm sure). The photos are taken when Tom and friend Corina decided to take me to Tijuana for the day. We arrived there and still the same weather, cold rain!! After a lunch we decided to take in an off street bar with the locals. So it was for that chilly October afternoon three Gringoes entered the momentarily dismal and depressed "El Reno". We left one "helluva" happ'n bar!! Actually, we were told by the only english speaking patron that it was probably time for us to make our exit 'cause the locals were beginning to enjoy not only our generosities in the forms of tequila shots and Cervesas, but our money was looking good as well. WOW! What an afternoon!! Thanks, again, Tom!

Well, time for me to take advantage of the "springlike" 50degree weather and go for my run outside!! Got another Echocardiogram tomorrow morning to check on the "hole in my valve". Somebody suggested I drink a can of Leakstop..."works for radiators".

From the blogs of the "World's most Unfamous Artist" I say, "Adios!"

Disposables, or the Transparencies

Disposables: Those are the segment of our Society whom face an "uncertain, if not inevitable" end to their "Life as they know it". They are that branch consisting of the white collar, blue collar, professional, non-skilled and skilled group of persons who live their lives clueless as to what "tomorrow will bring". They are that branch of individuals whom go headlong into the "arms of another for Love!" They the throngs who place their faith in our Government, not questioning "It's" motives, decisions and "It's" authority over our daily lives.
I see and read of the masses losing jobs, homes and a way of life they might never see again. I see and feel the "pangs" of Love when it enrapts one, or it leaves one devoid of that "security of having Love in one's arms". I see our Government failing to explain and cure the "Monolith" of debt and abuse of power it has incurred through the "mindless abuse of our Consumerist Society". And now I begin to unfold the reason for this particular "painting" of my life, dear Readers.
As the impending "ugliness" and finality of my Divorce comes to a head I am beginning to review this in a different light. My approach to the matter has at times (mostly) been one of "procrastination through denial". "Wrong thing to do!" I have allowed myself NOT to tackle and remedy immediate issues, such as; an Attorney, a place to live, a bank account on which to live, a second job and the list could go on. I have to ask myself, "Why and for what purpose?" The answer?!! Honestly, "maybe this is the way it's supposed to be. Eh?" Maybe this is that final College Thesis I am to experience in order to achieve my Diploma. Too far fetched? Well, Artist's DO have a reputation for being a bit "out of the ordinary". Emotionally some of us should be clinically impounded. Some Artists such as Van Gogh, "wow", "train wreck!, however, his life is very interesting to me. Number one, his Artistic Production was unique as to in very early years he was producing alot with "no direction", not very much emotion. There came a period of self-denial, an inability to work for lack of "motive". There was his period of a person with self-inflicting emotional and financial wounds caused by the former, I'm sure. Then came a period of indulgence. He was quite the "Bohemian" giving way to the losses he could not explain to himself; love, money, career, etc. Then, briefly, he began to review these experiences and thus gave way to a new "expression" of his life and his emotions and his view of reality. To a "layman" this might seem quite f....d up! His paintings evoke this "madman" with a knack for distorting the reality of imagination. For me however, I see it as the end of His apprenticeship in Art, just in a more severe way. I try to stray from the self-inflicted tortures through abuse of Absinthe and cutting one's earlobe off! I would think the hangover from the Absinthe would be enough!
So, here I am once again in the "Rider's Seat" being driven to..."who knows where". But, this time it's different. Rather than accepting the "ride" I am also beginning to look out the window during my "Ride". I accept the fact that the wheel might be in someone else's hands, but it is me who has "climbed into the passenger seat". It's my Destiny, my Fate. As I like to say, "We come into this life alone and go the same way, it's all about "how y'wanna go!" It's been quite the "emotional roller-coaster" for the past several decades and now it is time to reflect, ingest and "Paint". I have quite literally made myself "Disposable" to someone else's inabilities to keep a promise of "Love". Something "popped that festering boil" inside this relationship and I Know it wasn't all my doing. And for the first time in my life "I don't care!" I am ME! I kinda like ME! And so do quite ALOT of people! So, gotta be sumthin' there besides the entertainment. I'm a bit "gunshy" in the Love Dep't at Macy's right now, but I have love from friends and family.
Last week my friend Bill asked if I wanted to join him on a roadtrip to Indy and to Louisville for the weekend. I needed the emotional break and said yes. As we were heading back to Indy Saturday afternoon from a convention in Louisville, Bill had called his girlfriend. His conversation ended with, "I love you." I felt a hole grow inside. I remember that! Love! And now I'm on the road with no one to say it to. That "special love" between two people, it wasn't there. The hole hurt my gut. And then, my cell rang; sometimes things "just happen", it was my daughter Kellie calling to tell me her boyfriend just proposed and!! it was His Birthday! Dear Readers, I needed that. I guess I needed it so much I broke into tears of joy. Gawd! How embarassing! In front of my friend I'm blubbering like a baby! However, as true friends go, he offered me a tissue. ...thanks, Bill! I felt like I was on a cloud! I needed that! I love Kellie and her boyfriend (now fiance) Aaron. And they have given me a beautiful grand daughter! (Okay, Audrey and Seth, "It's your turn!") See, dear Readers, I might be "gunshy, a bit jaded", but I realise love is still in my heart and will always be. The "disposable" guy I have been made into will be (maybe) sorely missed by someone someday. It's already too late to reconcile. My heart has no place for her and "it's here on the internet"!
And now for the Transparencies. It was Monday, late afternoon as I was leaving work and walking through the parking lot I passed a man with a garbage sack in hand. I will describe him as (and I hate saying, or using the word) a "black" man, bedraggled and quite "buzzed"! As I passed him rather than hearing, "can you spare...." instead, it was, "Don't mind me Sir, I'm just lookin' for cans and bottles." I passed and got into my van. As I sat there I watched him rummaging through the plastic bins that many do nowadays and then it hit me! That could be me! These times are uncertain and who knows what tomorrow will bring?! I circled the parking lot digging for money at the same time and found a $5 bill. I drove into the alley he was in and stopped. He was trying to navigate a smaller alley about 3 feet in width. As he bounced with the agility of a dancer this person was without a doubt, "shitfaced"! I rolled the window and motioned to him. He came up to the van and handed him the $5 bill. I said, "Here, I don't care what you do with this, I just want you to know that I care." Dear Readers, WTF!! What is happening to me?! This Man looked at me with bloodshot eyes and sobbed! It wasn't just tears, it was PAIN! I felt for this person. I felt his pain! And then through the veil of saltwater he tried to tell me his story. It was brief, but it was his life. He was a carpenter, also an alcoholic, had also been kicked out of his home. He faced that evening not knowing. Fear was his reason to be drunk. The uncertainty of what "tomorrow will bring" is always (for some) a good excuse to drink. However, I didn't care at that moment, I was more moved by the fact that this individual brought back to me a flashback of Nicaragua as I saw the face of that little girl standing on a boulevard begging. I left him by saying I knew his pain without being in his shoes. And as I drove away pissed off at my inability to help other than give him some change for more drink, I became angry! I realised for the first time how WE as a nation, supposedly the richest, have completely ignored our fellow Humans. WE have ignored their plight, their fight to eck an existence on a daily basis! My predicament is NOTHING compared to that Man's plight!!! I am guilty for ignoring him and others whom exist in OUR country!! As I sat that late afternoon sipping my beer at the Nuggett downtown, I felt a parallel to my existence and his. The difference only that I have opportunity and he has none.
How and Why, dear Readers?! This question is certainly one we will all be asking shortly. The episode that afternoon has given me another canvas to paint. My emotions are high, my heart is for humankind and we certainly need more. I will bid you all Peace and hope you all will share your thoughts to the world on this growing issue.
Not quite the way I thought this blog would end, but it's the same with my painting, also. From the "World's most Unfamous Artist", thank you.
......**I dedicate this blog to the memory of my Father who was born on this day and who gave our Family his devoted love. I still miss him and his guidance after his passing 34 years ago. "If there is a Heaven I know he's there and he's the "Bartender"!!!****

Disposables

Prepare yourselves, Dear Readers, for I embark upon a most serious journey this evening! I will bring to light the tragedies, the highlights, the pains, the joys of the "World's most Unfamous Artist". It will be the exposed, vulnerable and raw side of this Artist, this dislocated "Tropical Gypsy".
The "Roller Coaster of Life" will forever have a track that twists and turns; parables equating themselves to love and pain, sight and sound. "I am ready to paint." My canvas momentarily will be the pages of the computer, my brushes, the keyboard.
I realise the purpose of "my Journey", self-inflicted, or otherwise. "Interpretation" is the key for the medium and execution of my experiences over the past nine months of this "whirlwind" relationship with Humankind. My emotions have heightened themselves to a point I never realised. I welcome it. This Artist, unfamous for the moment, has seen his destiny wrought by Fate, it cannot be left "to pass" without my input.
My apprenticeship into the Art world was brought to my attention many years ago by two fellow Artisans whom I admired most. They gave me the "ability to see" and in turn I gave them a student "hungry to express himself" through art! My first inluence was a professor of Art at Indiana Univ. in South Bend, IN. As I sat in my chair working on a design project I had many hours into he walked by, reached down, crumpled my paper and said, "Start over." He could see my anger. And as he walked away he turned, looked into my eyes and said, "Someday, You will better than the average Artist. Now, do it over."
The second influence in my career came from a well-known Illustrator and Water-Colourist in the Mid-West, especially Chicago. How she ended up at a community college was beyond me. Maybe to get away, but for me it was an opportunity no one else on campus shared. She realised my potential, but knew my faults, she had work ahead for me, a lot of work. I was given a project to work on for several weeks. Each day I practised with a brush on small pieces of illustration board (6"x9"). Then she told me to go purchase a LARGE board. After weeks of painting minute "splashes" of colourful vegetables (she thought my carrots were sexy...back off, Pervs!!) and shapes of people I could only stare at this empty landscape of white. I sat, day after day. She was patient, I was becoming restless. And then it happened, my hand moved across the white landscape floating colours and shapes. I didn't have a clue to what I was doing, but it flowed; pure emotion. The several weeks of repetitious paintings and days of sitting mindless "came to fruition" in one hour. My "Mentor" came up to me and handed me her most favourite watercolour brush and said, "You're on your own, there's nothing I can teach you. You are now your own Teacher." "Wow!"
So, now it is time for this person to "Stop" the procrastination! and "Stop" the "mindf...s" brought down upon me by someone's inability to communicate to me.
"Nuf' said!"
Tonight!!!

Seriously, Folks...

***If there are any comments in this new Blog that are repeated from others forgive me. I am at that "age" that repetition and golf carts become Life.

A recent comment to my previous blog has once again brought to my attention of the impact of how "paraphrasing" one's own life can have significant diverse meaning for the Reader. Let me "set the Record straight". This blog(site) is simply "a collection of my thoughts". It is a part of my Art. It's "birth" came from the frustration of "life in general", of a relationship (once again) torn asunder by consequences stemming from TWO people never REALLY allowing the ability to talk to one-another. AND!! from one person's "change" of personality. I'm not finger-pointing, but "I'm" pretty much "cut-n-dry". I admit I am not the easiest person to live with. Ask my children. They'll say, "Oh, yeah!" But, they know they are loved. And to me there can be no greater explanation of Life than that; the love from Family. REAL Family. Wherever I will be after my Divorce, my Family AND Friends will always be there. THAT in itself makes this world (especially in these uncertain times) worthwhile. How can one give up memories?! Good, bad, life as my father always expressed quite simply as, "...shit, or get off the pot."
There are no feelings in me of suicide. There are no feelings in me to go out and do a "stoopid stunt" involving large amounts of explosives and a lighter. "Which brings me to mind"! I know you all have witnessed "stoopid acts", right?! Or you have,..maybe even involved yourself in a couple. Imagine yourself "pulling up" to the gas pump to refuel. You get out of your car, reach for the hose and then,..you see it. At first you say, "naw..." and then you begin to "take in everything that tells you to instinctively return the hose to the pump, return to your car and drive away,..FAST!!" Because! Because you have witnessed a "stoopid act"!! Yes,..happened to me. Saw it, couldn't believe it, "oh hell, what am I thinking, this IS Michiana." I was ready to fill the tank of the mini van and I noticed on the other side of the pump was a "derelict" pickup truck complete with the dog from "Saliva World" sitting behind the steering wheel (I now know why). It was the bed of the truck that REALLY caught my attention, for in the bed was a man, neither young , nor old, sitting atop gas cans (this was when gas prices dropped from a "gajillion" dollars a gallon to slightly over $2, I'm sure he couldn't forecast the additional drops to come), still pouring gas into another and SMOKING A CIGARETTE!!! I kid you not!! Yes, dear Readers, stoopidity extends throughout the Nation beside the Banking Institutions, Auto Industry and our Government (I'm sure I'll burn for that comment).
So you see, there you have it. I love my life despite the "interruptions". So much to be thankful for, I'm certainly thankful I have never smoked cigarettes! Certainly thankful my parents gave us the opportunity to learn "how to survive". Thankful for my family and friends. And especially thankful I can run. I've never really had any other "pressing" goal, besides my Art and well, a good game of golf, but this "running thing"... can't really say, but it's my passion. Maybe it's the freedom I feel, the opportunity to run another mile farther. I do know it's certainly a stimulant for "mellowing" one's mind. I do know how it came about. In Jr. High I tried to compete in sports. Growing up Asthmatic "sucks"! Literally! Growing up with Asthma (I had it BAD people!! REAL BAD!!) was a pain. I couldn't do much as far as extensive play, exercise, etc., because it could trigger an attack. "Way back when", if I had an attack I had to take a pill and then wait for the effect of the pill which could take up to 30 minutes. If any of you out there have ever been diagnosed with "acute Asthma" YOU will understand. Back then there were no "magical" inhalers. To fully understand this take a plastic bag and put it over your head to completely cover it. Now tighten it around your throat just enough to allow a tiny bit of air, then breathe. That's Asthma. Asthma made my life difficult, but it didn't stop me from trying! "Screw the 'Bouts!!" ...Back to Jr. High.
I tried out for Track. Dear Readers, "what the Hell was I thinking?!" 8th grade and I can't remember cresting 4'10" and 65lbs!! Asthma really "played a number on me". Anyway, I think I made two tryouts then quit, "couldn't doit", but, that didn't stop me. Slowly, determinded, day by day, I ran. the Asthma eventually decided that I was not stopping and left. Years of suffering from lack of O2 just simply "went away". And that is when my Running said, "Let's see what these feet can do!!" Today at 55 (and getting younger :) !!!) Wintertime, indoor track (hate it) 5-7 miles. Warmer weather, outside, 8-10 miles. Summertime, HEAT (love the heat!), 10-12 miles...daily. Not bad, eh? Not training for any Marathons, any Races, just doin' it for ME.
I'm going to bring this Blog to a close by saying; my life REALLY IS a WONDERFUL life. I am blessed with Family and Friends. This Blog has become my "book" about my life, my thoughts, passions and the cold "slapintheface" at times. I have no desire to "pass on" early. I have no desire to sit atop gas canisters in the back of a truck smoking a cigarette! This Blog is not a CD, DVD, Tivo, VCR, Beta, however I have had the occassional "KODAK Moment". This "Internet thingie" kinda caught my interest to help publish my thoughts and how I think it has "come to this point". Therapy. My laptop is my pen and "good 'ol ATT" is providing the pages. At times I might come across as bitter, hopeless and confused, however, it is "all but that"! This is kinda my epitaph BEFORE I do "hitch that ride on the Celestial Train to parts unknown", but I only have to look outside my livingroom window to the house next door. "Eh?!" Yes, next door LIFE is a VERY precious commodity right now to my friend, Jane. Jane has Cancer, in a very bad way (if Cancer was just other than...). She smiles at me when I see her. Lovely lady and very optimistic, but realizes she's "got alot on her plate". Chemo, Radiation, Surgery...no, my life is NOT as bad as it sounds. Jane is just One of many in this world, I know that to be a fact. I cannot sit back in self-pity and not think of others. While in Nicaragua I learned for the first time the stark reality of how "brutal" life can be if you're borne into REAL poverty. It "rattled my flip flops" while driving through Managua and I noticed a very little girl 5, maybe 6 years old, begging while standing on a boulevard in heavy traffic. It was more crushing to see her anguish while she returned to the piece of cardboard she used for a cushion on that boulevard. She simply,..gave up. No, mind you, she didn't give up begging, that was her means for survival. But, as we passed by while sitting in the air-conditioned SUV, I saw her eyes. THAT HURT!!! HURT LIKE HELL!!! But, she's only One of the Millions and growing!!
Yes, Dear Readers, WE are BLESSED. If you're reading this while sipping your coffee, drinking your beer, wine, cold cola, YOU'RE BLESSED!! Even my friend "L" who was living in his car for some time, Dude, you experienced hell, but You have opportunity!! You are YOU!! Makes a helluva difference when you're 5 and growing up in Poverty than to be 55 and trying to make a new start! I believe in you. I believe in ME.
After this Divorce, I'll be glad not to notice a Macy's flyer, Vickie's Secret catalog on my table. I'll relish the absence of the "fu.... up" socalled Reality Shows. "OH! OH! HERE'S A GOOD ONE!!!" I'm sitting in the Nuggett (watering hole in downtown) tending a microbrew when this fellow comes into the bar...eh?! ready for this?!! He's dressed as....Brett Michaels from "Rock of Love"!! TO THE TEE!! Hair, Cowboy hat, fashionably tattered jeans,..EXCEPT!! This is where he failed,.."no Octane infused, Gravity-defying, Pornstar Tittied Bimboes!! Dude?!! WTF?!! Loser!! I nearly lost it! Yes, my "soontobe X" would've pissed her stretch denim jeans! (serial, people, no bitterness....)
Okay, Dear Readers, the Java is kick'n my kidneys! Gotta go...
From the flailing fingers of the World's most Unfamous Artist,...
Thank you! "I LOVE THIS BAR!!!"