World's most "Unfamous" Artist / a.k.a. Tropical Gypsy

Disenfranchised

2012-01-23T11:51:00.002-06:00

It has been many Elections I have seen in my life, but NONE BY FAR excel the childish rants, taunts and "poo-slinging" of these so-called Political Hopefuls! I REFUSE TO VOTE! I cannot contribute to an "already-bought an' paid for" President. Doesn't matter WHO becomes Prez...fact is, I KNOW nuthin's gonna change, get better and "life as we know it"...kiss it goodbye!
Slap my hands for not voting, but as I said I have witnessed the Poli-Bureau's rise to Power. At this moment they "chisel away" our Freedoms. It's sad...the Majority of people in this Country are fucking blind to the "rape and pillaging" happening every day! The TRUTH!?! There is only THEIR TRUTH! They control the media, the finances, wealth and power of each and everyone one of us.
What to do?....I dunno. I'll get back with ya!
In the meanwhile, enjoy the CIRCUS!

2012...Happy New Year from the WMUA & Tropical Gypsy

2012-01-16T08:45:00.007-06:00

Mid month! 2012 no doubt! Sucha fuckedup 2011, glad t'see yer ass go! A D I O S! Y'know there comes a time in all our lives when y'jus' gotta "shuck shit" and fergitaboutit! Been a long time that I addressed this Blogsite...too fuckin' long! Sorry about the Neandertal Expletives, but I jus' gotta venti! An' here's m'vent:
This might b'personal t'some o'you folkes out there and I know y'all have good reason behind yer opinions, but in MY life there are principles! Those principles have got my ass in a few tidal pools and then again, w'out 'em...I wouldn' b'the person danglin' from this "Big Blue Orb" that I am.
Touchy subject 'bout those young Marines "pissing" on the dead bodies o'Taliban. Very touchy I'm findin'. Me, I find it WRONG! I've expressed this on Facebook and have met quite a bit o'opposition. As to b'expected. Especially from those "Who Have Served" in our Armed Forces. I don't have the right, first of all, to even believe "I know what they've been thru, or goin' thru!" I've never been in the Military and proud of it! Some o'you might b'obit "ruffled" 'bout that, but this IS AMERICA, LAND O'THE FREE! Right? And I'm hearin' some o'you sayin', "Without a Military, you wouldn't have yer FREEDOM, ASSHOLE!" Right you are. You have earned that right to b'angered w'me. And those Who have fallen in battle, byallmeans, I do respect your "sacrifice" and respect those Families who have lost a loved one in Battle. But, if one could "crawl inside" m'mind to understand how I feel about WAR as a whole...ain' happnin' too soon, I reckon.
Let me git back to the young Soldier's "pissin' on those carcasses". I feel contempt for those individuals doin' the pissin'! First, they've not only "setback" oppotunity to resolve this "Campaign" (it's not a WAR! never been declared!), but they've literally "pissed" on the Citizens of this Country! If y'can't figger it out, well then yer more of a moron than I. I don't give a shit about someone tellin' me War is Hell! And I sure as hell don't give a ratsass about someone tellin' me "y'ain' been in my shoes!" Have YOU once considered that maybe, jus' maybe that "we are"? I mean, "when you go, someone goes with you." FAMILY, FRIENDS, a COMMUNITY. WE ALL GO WITH YOU! Dif'rence is, "you've got a gun. You've got someone tellin' you that, "yer chances o'bein' killed t'day are at an alltime hi!" Now, don' tell me yer lookin' forward t'that! Don't tell me yer not thinkin', This might not have been a good choice!" Don't tell me yer proud o'goin t'someone else's country, sittin' in their backyard wi' gunfire ricochetin' all aroun' ya, watchin' the family inside th'house gittin' killed cause o' SOMEONE ELSE'S INABILITY TO COMMUNICATE IN A CIVILISED FASHION is a good thing!! Don' tell me that yer NOT thinkin' 'bout yer wife n kids sittin' back home waitin' fo' one o' two things; YOU, or a LETTER!
This Country that yer "dyin' for" has been in reckless campaigns for generations! All in the name of FREEDOM? Right now this "clusterfuck" in the Middle East reminds me of the fuckin' CRUSADES! CHRISTIAN & MUSLIM! We been WARRING with each other for over 1000 years! CAN YOU FATHOM THAT?! 1000 YEARS! I have to ask, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Is it ME?! Or does this sound INSANE?! This is a RELIGIOUS WAR fought on both sides! Don' tell me it'sa "Jihad" thing! It's a CHRISTIAN thing as well...right? "GOD n COUNTRY"! Idiots! Mindfuckin' idiots! And our "son's n daughter's" are told "Daddy has t'do this for your FREEDOM". SERIAL?!
VietNam...who won? Was it a stalemate? "Hmmm...no signs of any Godless Commies"...might b'okay." ARE YOU FUCKIN' KIDDING ME?! Allow m'to vent again! VietNam was a French Colony. The Vietnamese people were subjects. Now, how would ya' feel if one morn' y'woke up n saw a bunch a "baguettes" sittin' in yer face when you were accustomed t'breakfast, yer way?! The French colonised VietNam for it's strategic location an' resources. One day someone (Vietnamese) asked, "Why?"...After that came "INSURRECTION"..."ooh, bad!" Bad for the French, they got their arses kicked at Dien Bien Phu. The VietCong (the North) had enough of "someone else's haute couture". The dividin' line made it the North vs. the South.."how does that always happen? Not East vs West?! confusin'..."Ah but, Wait! I hear the sounds o'money clinkin' in someone's hands!"
INVESTOR'S saw an opportunity figgerin' the VietCong were weak and iliterate, ill equiped, etc. So, some U.S. investors met with S'Vietnamese officials (military...hmm) an' said, "We'll bring in some men t'protect yer asses IF you agree to givin' us somethin' in return!" The rest is History. Thousands o'lives lost...lives shattered, homes shattered, businesses gone...and that's the Vietnamese side I'm talkin' 'bout! Over here we had thousands o' live lost, shattered, riots, unrest...an' it goes on.
In the end, did we "REALLY HAFTA WORRY 'BOUT COMMUNISM?!" NO! NO! NO! The Vietnamese only wanted ONE THING! The ONE THING this country decrys all over the world, FREEDOM! They wanted THEIR COUNTRY back!
I've vented enuff. I've "stepped on" some toes. I'm an ass and an idiot! As stated earlier, "a man of priciples". They're "my principles". I believe ALL war is wrong. People should have the "Right" to live without fear, oppression. Yes, We DO NEED a Military to PROTECT US from invasion, but when WE "become the Invaders", I hafta question what is right an' what is wrong. 9/11...a long time ago. To date we've gone FAR BEYOND the death toll in the Two Towers that morn'. We've accomplished upseating a Tyrant and killing a Man so Elusive even his own Army didn't know his whereabouts, leaving behind a country in turmoil. And now, we are in Afghanistan...and Pakistan.
Look at it on the Global Map...Kuwait, Iraq, Afghanistan..."where next?" I daresay if we fuck with Iran, the World as We know it will change forever! Iran, once PERSIA was the "seat of modern Civilisation...thousands of years before we were speakin' english and runnin' t'WalMart fer cheap "Made in China" goods, they had a system of Gov't the Greeks admired an' copied. The Iranian Government seems unstable to us, because WE have created INSTABILITY.
And when We condone "pissing" on the enemy when DEAD, "how far have We come as a Species?" I don't care if a miltary General says, "War is Hell." How can WE, as a NATION OF GOD sit idly by and say, "They did it to us! Even worse!" That to me is the difference..."Rise Above It". You've defeated your foe, You have killed! Let it end there!
...and the Crusades continues....

How Y'all Doin'?

2011-02-01T15:54:00.006-06:00

"How Y'all Doin'?" If there is something about the English language I find so itriguing it is dialect! I love a good "Southern Accent". I'm not talking about the one you'd hear Boomhower on King of the Hill speak with. Hell, I don't even think that's considered a Southern accent! However, I do love to listen to a Southern Belle speak it! Well educated, maybe some proper schooling background, etc....
Anyway, 'nuff of that tangent. I realise the last entry I made here was back in September. I think I lost myself on Facebook! LOL!! I've been using it to feel out the "crowds" to launch my Poetry this year. I'm very close to finishing the poems and have recently started illustrations for some of them. Poetry is something that had escaped me the last 30+ years. Life's changes certainly hit me "broadside" and the road to another life/lives began.
Poetry...I've a knack for writing it, always have. Creativity is my lifeforce. I think without it, I'd just pack it all up and be an Accountant...sorry! But, there is something about using words to relate emotion. In high school I was constantly picked on by the bigger boys, the tougher boys, because "I was small"! I graduated weighing 113 pounds! I grew AFTER I graduated! I studied the dictionary in depth, learning a new word each day, one I knew the "bullies" would never understand (wasn't too hard) and a sort of "mental distraction". As it turned out, most people thought I was a snob! Who'da thunk?! It did, on the other hand fuck with the "bullies" heads and...I got slammed in lockers, thrown in trash cans all the same!
That dictionary did help with my "command of the english language". It did impress some people and other's...well, they thought I was a snob. WTF?!? Words have been my "Safety Net". Growing up I was a very small lad...weak, skinny, constantly getting my ass kicked and constantly giving up my dessert from the lunch pail. I remember in elementary school all the fights I was in my ass was kicked, but to make matters worse, I'd get sent to the principal's office, reprimanded and sometimes paddled for "Starting A Fucking Fight!" How messed up is that?! Maybe the Principal got a "kick outa beatin' a lil' boy's butt!" Perv!
Well anyway, years later and here I am and able to kick ass! Sometimes a "dog bites back". But, that's not me...I'm a "Lover not a Fighter". Which reminds, I'm really startin' to wonder what the hell happened?,..cause I "ain't had a piece o' ass in a looooong time!" Sorry, blatant honesty never looked good in print. Back to my ramblin's; It has been over 30 years since I wrote and back then it "just flowed". I think, because I was happy, in love and diggin' life as a teenager! Recently as several months ago, "out of the blue", it returned. At first I was perplexed, because the "pen" just wrote down what I was feeling...again, it "flowed". The more I wrote I realised I was writing FOR and ABOUT someone. That someone happened to be a young woman I had met on Facebook. I dedicated them to her, but did not want her to know it and to keep her anonimity. Thus, my "Muse" was borne. And the writing's came more and more. As I grew into my writing's I had begun to realise, without my "Muse's" knowledge, I was falling in Love. Problem was, she did not know it and was totally unprepared for my "dedication".
We were "Skyp'ing" one another. Each time we would have our encounter's I would notice something more I adored in her! Her smile! Her laughter! Her accent! I was mezmerised! And as time passed our conversations became more relaxed, "as lover's do". "In my mind, at least." And then it came to pass, as these matter's of the heart will do, that I blundered! I made a fool of myself! I professed my feelings and she,..she was caught "off guard! I hurt not only myself, but she as well. She was innocent a to my passions. I was considered a friend, an "Internet Friend", nothing more and to think there could have been, looking back...how foolish I was. And in the end, not only did everything become difficult (I had made it that way thru my inabilty to behave as an adult), but I had lost a friend. With it as well, my poetry has begun to falter.
I do have enough emtion and feeling whereas I can "wing it" and produce more, but I know they will not be the same as when I had my "Muse". Things in Life are someimes left unexplained as to try to understand...I leave this post with several poem's I had written for her. Until then, My Friends..."I'll be back."
~~~~~~
"Each time I see You, Your smile, hear Your laughter, I crave more. Words drift by and I smell the sweetness of each inflection as it lies gently upon my ears. Your Beauty could never launch a thousand ship's, for all on shore would not leave. Time is as it never was and will never be, I am at peace in my Heart each time I see You."
~~~~~~
"You", a light in my Heart, a Face of such Beauty I blush. Your smile melts my very Soul. Your laughter lifts me to heights I see Heaven. Yet, I cannot touch You. I cannot tell You of what lies within, for I am but one, afraid. "You" are my Dream and I should never wish to awaken from "the light in my Heart".
~~~~~~
My Heart quickens when I see Your face, It sings when I hear Your voice and dances with each syllable You inflect. My Heart races when You laugh! Your pensive frowns, Your tongue against Your soft lips, I am enamoured! All this and more...my Heart is Yours.

The Return...Where from here?

2010-09-19T12:53:00.004-05:00

I am posting this Blog, because of a most recent verbal transaction on Facebook. To my Friend I responded to my absence in social gatherings, so to speak. So, I wrote a bit...well, a letter, hell, almost my Life's history, to her this morning. I thought afterwards I haven't written much in my Blog as of late and, well, time to catchup! For the moment I will "copy and paste" what I wrote to my friend. I will get back here, soon!.....
(her last comment in a response as to my most recent decision for not drinking...an OWI and 6 hours in the "slammer" opened my eyes)...
"My friend...you amaze me...your talents...your innerself. You're an increadible person. You need not drink to intrigue me or interest me. I enjoy knowing you!"
...and my story for the decision I made as follows:
It was difficult trying to fulfill my dreams as an Artist in a working-class family. Thus, I was to pay for my own education, "room and board were available" at home while I laboured in factories to save . My first experience in a University was, without a doubt, hard. But, I excelled all my Art classes. One of my professors (the toughest as well) taught in the style of the "Old Masters". Those classes were most intense, but were ground rules to graduate into other forms and media of Art. I learned many styles, but appreciated Life Painting and Drawing, because it entailed more than "rendering and execution", it proved whether an Artist could "see". Hands are but the "tools", the "eyes" are the image and soul to Art.
That Professor, it seemed, worked hardest on me! One afternoon as he tore up a drawing I had spent HOURS on, I became so enraged I was ready to walk away, forever. He looked at me making sure the entire classroom could hear (his exact words I still remember and the look upon his face), "Someday, You will be better than the "average" Artist" and walked away.
I never addressed myself as an Artist until years later. I needed to learn more! Finally, after apprenticing under many others for several years I had my "last" experience which granted me the title, Artist. She was a renowned Watercolourist and Artist in Paris, New York and Chicago. How she came to Dowagiac and taught classes at SMC was beyond me! But she "took me under her wing" and placed all Emphasis on my growth. Months of diligent work. It was the most taxing, frustrating and confusing period of my career. She came to me one day and said, "I want you to bring in three large pieces of illustration board." Next day I showed up for class (I was never allowed to work alongside my classmates, I was her Pupil, her Apprentice). She instructed me to take 2 of the boards and cut smaller pieces from them and to leave one board intact. For 1 week I painted almost a 100 small paintings until she said, "Now, take the large board and paint something." I asked, "What?" She said, "It's inside you, find it." I stared for 3 days at that board until my hand picked up the brush and touched the board. Within one hour I stepped back, looked and "tried so hard to understand what had just happened".
She came up to me, looked at my painting, looked at me (expressionless), handed me her "prized watercolour brush" and said, "My work is done. There is nothing more I can teach you" and walked away. I stood dumbfounded while my classmates applauded. Almost 5 years later would I "allow myself the title of Artist".
The "heartbreak" in my life were the many opportunities handed to me, yet unable to afford them. My Parents, regardless, still refused to support me (my Mother tried, seeing my future as viable, but my Father didn't want to for fear of his friends asking if I were "gay" of all things!!). All Scholarships went to minorities (Affirmative Action).
I was accepted into; Kendall School of Design, the Chicago Art Institute, the University of Chicago, the New School of Art, Parsons School of Art, Bloomington Art School, Freiburg University in Germany...and many others. So, disappointed and pissed off, I rebelled. I did my Art, but when it was completed I DESTROYED it, or if I felt generous, I gave it to someone. The majority of it was in my "Perofrmance Art" shows. When done, I would destroy it before everyone's eyes! Wrong thing to do! People were outraged! The few art leagues and associations I belonged to ostracised me, banned me from shows. Of course, my paintings and drawings of Nudes didn't "fly well" with the "prim and proper" ideals of the "Tard's"!
I found drugs, alcohol had been there for awhile, but never a close friend. Years of drifting between Art and girfriends I mistakenly got a girlfriend pregnant. We had kids, got married and that was the end of an Era.
Alcohol replaced Art..."hmm,..AA. Alcohol n Art! :)
And here I am, playing "catchup". Who I am today, right now, is the remant of what "Once was". I am that Artist struggling to regain the Title I had worked so hard for!
Art is just not a piece of paper, a canvas, a sculpting. It is a Soul, personified. Each time I create a piece, "my Soul" is embedded into a once dormant idea, or object. Maybe You can understand my "reluctance" to "SELL" it. I'd rather "GIVE IT AWAY".
And now I sit alone as I did decades ago ready to begin what I started then. My friends have abandoned me, not I abandoning them.
Besides, as I have always said, "We come into this world alone and leave it the same way."

Wow.

2010-05-07T07:30:00.003-05:00

Need to get back to "blogging". I miss it.
Did read past posts last night and was amazed with some of the stuff I wrote in the past. Wow! Some of it good, some bad. Interesting to review the past, almost 2 years of my life and what i was going through then and where I'm at now.
Most interesting is "how and who" I am now. I know I'm a helluvalot happier now and have had some good and interesting moments, opportunities and decisions since.
...wow....

REVELATIONS

2010-02-12T21:44:00.003-06:00

I've been a "hard working sonamuhbitch" ALL my life. And throughout it, I have been naiive enough to be thwarted, side-tracked and even given away my earnings and LIFE savings for "Love". I am a very caring individual when it comes to persons and their plight(s). As a matter of fact I can say I "pissed away" real estate, retirement and "health care" through a simple "roll of the dice" for Love.

I have been "used, taken advantage of and led to believe I was the one at fault". I was ALWAYS the one who ended up making apologies when it should've been the other party. However, I understand that now, because that person simply "lacked the concept" of what an apology (a verbal, from the heart apology) meant. Call it "self pride", or "call it, "fuck you, you're an asshole". I can accept that, really! Basically, I do believe in "what goes around comes bitchslappin' backatcha!"

Boiled down this equates to the fact that I "have to start my life from the ground up." And you know? I am! Thanks to being a "hard working sonamuhbitch" who's talented, believes in himself, is resilient and has the faith of friends and family. It goes without saying.

There is one thing though that bothers me more than ANY thing in this world and that is, "blaming your lowlife-freaking existence on everybody and anything else!" When you become ANGERED and IRRITATED about life and the bullshit it deals you....?! And when someone (like me) wants to give a helping hand only to SEE that my hand is doing nothing than MAINTAINING their ADDICTION to the lowlife misery YOU conjour up....I say, "FUCK YOU!" And FUCK YOU for blaming your petty bullshit on me and others!

TOO BAD you live outta the pocket change of others! "I BELIEVE IN MYSELF AND AM DEALING WITH IT!" "GETTA LIFE, OR GET REHAB!" "BUT NEVER,..NEVER,..FUCKING EVER,..BITCH AT ME FOR YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!!!!!!"

and I quote; "Here is the deal. It's a real simple factoid:Once you pick up the pipe, it doesn't let you go. Ever."

I am so sorry. And I am sorry I read that. I saw talent that was and still remains in a pool of self-pity. Me, I prefer knowing at the end of the day that "I am loved." My children, my friends,..it's unconditional! They know I love and laugh and "relish" each freaking moment of my life, because of this one ideal. And that is, "tomorrow is going to be a better day, because I WANT it to be!"

"If you can't deal with reality, than stick with the Dealer."

Profundity at 4:30 in the morning

2010-02-04T03:38:00.005-06:00

I really need to think what I have done all MY LIFE, what did I do all MY LIFE, why I did what I did all MY LIFE and "what the fuck I'm gonna do with the rest of MY LIFE."

It is comparable to almost stepping in dogshit; "you see it, acknowledge it, respect it and ignore for the next dumbass to step in it."

(I need to know how these tidbits of "profundity arise"....is it the Tequila?!?)

**as written in Facebook February 2, 2010 by the "Tropical Gypsy"**

Doh!

2010-01-03T19:10:00.002-06:00

Wanted to write...maybe I'd rather "veg". Guess I'm tired, deeply tired. It was a helluva year, that 2009! Good memories, bad memories, happiness, hurt. I find I still carry fucking "baggage". Closure? Never had it. Can't be pissed off, that just doesn't do anything except waste time and energies toward a "new future".

And then I'm not alone. I find that life has dealt a "mind numbing" club to thousands. Just check online dating,.."no, don't". Everybody is looking for a prince, or princess! Insanity!

Like the song sings, "Somewhere over the Rainbow, way up high. And the dream that you dream of...."

Somebody get me a Eukelele!

Well, this is it for tonight. Just not in the mood. Braincloud!

Happy 2010 Everybody!

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

2009-12-22T23:15:00.002-06:00

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

2009-12-22T22:18:00.004-06:00

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

2009-12-18T06:14:00.004-06:00

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)

2009-12-01T16:49:00.005-06:00

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

2009-11-19T23:26:00.003-06:00

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

2009-11-15T18:20:00.002-06:00

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

2009-11-02T21:33:00.006-06:00

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)

2009-10-04T07:17:00.011-05:00

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?!

2009-08-09T12:22:00.002-05:00

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

2009-07-16T17:37:00.009-05:00

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"

2009-06-30T07:01:00.005-05:00

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

2009-06-20T09:32:00.003-05:00

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"

2009-06-13T15:20:00.002-05:00

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.

2009-05-28T17:31:00.004-05:00

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.....

2009-04-26T17:46:00.006-05:00

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?!

2009-04-07T18:54:00.002-05:00

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

2009-03-31T08:47:00.003-05:00

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!

2009-03-29T12:38:00.002-05:00

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

2009-03-24T16:03:00.003-05:00

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

2009-03-15T10:33:00.004-05:00

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

2009-03-11T05:40:00.003-05:00

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

2009-03-10T11:40:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-03-01T07:03:00.015-06:00

***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!!!"

360 degrees and still turnin'

2009-02-22T20:00:00.002-06:00

Sorry I've been absent in my blogs, Dear Readers. I shall quote from a dear and true longtime friend of mine, [from the blog Waking Up Horny] "Note to self: I think I'm lost. I've gone to go look for myself. If I get back before I return, please ask me to wait." Thank you, Laurence! If any of you out there want to read some interesting work by a truly gifted writer please visit, http://www.wakinguphorny.blogspot.com/ . This guy is ingenious. Actually, he was in one of my original blogs as to Inflences in my life.

And that brings me to my next blog. I am dedicating this blog to "my Children". There's been an addition along the way, Kellie, the daughter of my present wife and soon to be "X". Kellie regards me as her father and has borne one of my grandchildren. So I shall list "my Children" chronologically by age. (sorry, Kel Bel. I chose to make you last, but not least important).

Seth, my oldest, is my son from my first wife, Rebecca. God! You know, if I could go back...however, I'm here. I just wish that I could've in my "road to try to find myself" spent more time on the asphalt with him! As Seth would say, "Pops, forget it. I love you." What a wonderful talented lad he is. When Seth was a child, I think he was seven years, he contracted Cancer. A tumor formed behind one of his eyes. The doctor who was treating him prior said it was just swelling, probably due to an infection. The day the eyelid started to protrude his mother and I knew it was definetly NOT an infection. We drove Seth to Riley in Indy. The doctors immediately sent him into surgery for a biopsy. the result made my heart sink. How could this small, beautiful child have this?! As his mother and I looked around the hospital we saw others. Babies dying, children dying. What and how do we explain this to our son? During our trip back home we tried to explain to Seth the disease. I think at the time he knew something was fu.... up. I tried to explain it as a "bad cold". "DOH!!!" The child had CANCER!!

Seth, went through radiation, chemo, the child was doused and bombarded, but behaved as best as he could. He survived the torment. He had one eye that was just not the same as his other, but he had them both.

His mother and I divorced in 1990. Seth and my other two were taken away. Probably a good thing now that I look back. Children really need a nurturing mother and Rebecca was attentive. Seth and I (he being the eldest child) drifted apart. I accept blame for that. But he was rebellious to say the least. And sadly, it came to pass that he felt he was "old enough" to defy me as most boys do their fathers. It lasted for years, I ignoring him and he likewise. It really was tough trying not to acknowledge your own son and quite "childish" on my part. Finally, one day at a family birthday party Seth and I crossed paths. "JEEZUS!" My teenager had become a man! A big man!! He came up to me, hugged me, apologised, then we both wept as grown men should. Since then, he has been a beacon for me through my present troubled situation. He has surprised me with his knowledge and his wisdom. He has also borne to me two beautiful grandchildren. I must take time with my grandkids, 'cause "I'm livin' on overtime!" So, I say to my son, "Ich liebe dich, meinen sohn!"

Next in the "briarpatch" came Audrey, "Audio" is her nickname which is appropriate, 'cause she wailed and screamed as a baby!! Audio was the "leader of the pack". She was ambitious as a child as she is today. She was a very intelligent child as she is today. Audrey excelled at anything she attempted, softball, school, baton, etc. She was my little "tomboy", yet loved her Barbie Dolls. Once again, it saddened me the day they left when her mother and I divorced. And like her older brother, she too decided not to "see daddy" for awhile. However, she showed up at my doorstep with her younger brother one day (whilst married to this second woman) and apologised. I did too. Since then she has borne me two beautiful grandchildren. She's attending IU and working fulltime. she got her license in cosmetology and hair, but that "wasn't gonna get it". Audrey is a beautiful young woman with an opportunity in life I admire and wish I had more of. Through this time of hardship, she too has been there for me. And so to my daughter, thank you and I am proud of you. I love you, Audio.

Last on the totempole came James. "Jamers, Choad," good lord the teasing we ALL gave the lad. James was born on Christmas morning, the first baby in the hospital born!! I remember the nurses bringing him out wrapped in a Christmas Stocking. How apropo! James was my "palette" in life. There was something in the child that reminded me so much of myself. Growing up his actions and behavior was very similar to mine (I'm always on his toes to this day to do as I say and not as I have done!!!). James was a "clean" kid. Naive in a sense as I was growing up. And when his sister decided to not see me he was kind of "thrown into the same boat without a paddle". He, too, like his sister was on my doorstep apologising. To this day he reminds me more and more of me. He is ambitious with his Art, very Idealistic, very "GQ"! Snappy dresser! Talented! Excited about the world!! He's a damned good kid! Always has been. And to you my fledging "Andy Worhol", thank you, son. I never have said it enough to you, but I really do love you and am very proud of you and your present accomplishments.

Finally, Kellie (Kel Bel). It's wild! She was my stepdaughter, but behaved EXACTLY like my chldren!! We argued! We battled!! But through it all, I somehow became her "father". You know, nothing makes a man so proud when something so beautiful happens like that! She too has borne me a beautiful grandbaby. And to you my dear I say this, "Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be your father, it is truly an honour!" And DAMNIT!! When do I get to walk you down the aisle?!!!

So, Dear Readers, I shall wrap this up with this; I have lived a long life. Good, not so good. Wealth, not so much wealth. I have been a "neglectful" father, but I was too young in my mind. I am however, because of my children, the opposite today. Okay, Okay, some of you are saying "He still parties!" True, I am a Bohemian as was MY father. My lust for life is more "Jimmy Buffett" than most. However, my children have made me come to know my "otherside" and that is this, "I could never, ever paint a more beautiful canvas than my Children being in my life. I have to say there could never be more wealth than they!! They love me "unconditionally" for who I am and they know their father has the potential to become the Artist he desires. I cannot count the blessings they have given to me! I love them dearly.

Thank you my Children!! Thank you!!

I bid you, Good Night, dear Readers from the

World's most Unfamous Artist!

An Ode to Cupid

2009-02-14T09:37:00.003-06:00

I'm sitting here this Valentine's Day morning in my studio. It's quiet. The woman upstairs is sleeping. The person I celebrated 11 Valentine Days with what seems a long time ago and now seems "never to have happened at all". "T'was but a dream? A fantasy?" No bother. My heart is now encased in acrylic. It will go to no one. "Will it ever?", I think. For now NO. Absolutely NO. Cupid is but an Imp to me playing my "HeartStrings" out of tune! I don't trust anyone to come into my realm of love which I find is vulnerable without a doubt. I give no more. ...for now.

However, I am not totally devoid of the passions I find in my life. My friends, my Art, my love for Humanity as a whole. There are new worlds (this planet, of course) to explore, new friends to make.

I have to say this. Through my years of relationships I have found that, "yes, I can love another, again". I am capable. But, it grows very tiring at times when one gives so much and in the end what I thought was "it", "it" fades as did the others. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this "romance stuff". It sure as hell has taken it's toll this time. Especially when I told myself, "never ever again." This is My Path. This is My Lot in life. I've given much thought over the past months as to "what's wrong with me?" Still haven't "the foggiest!" Maybe I REALLY am an Artist! Maybe I am one of the "cliched/sterotyped" artists that cannot ever hold a relationship. So be it, IF it is true. This last relationship, I really have questioned. "Who's gettin' burned, here?!"

Anyway, allow me to say this, Dear Readers, "Happy Valentine's Day!" If you are in love treasure the moment. If someone loves you adore it. If they wish to tell you they "Love You" return it and return it Everyday. Treat one another like tomorrow will not be there. Cuddle. Share a cup of coffee. Say nothing. Hold hands. Look at the sun and breathe in it's warmth. Watch the night sky in winter together and admire the colors which are so intense. Create a passionate nickname for one another. Try a new restaurant only you and your lover will be known in and everyone else a stranger, because the radiance of love ALWAYS attracts people, therefore new friends will come into your life to enjoy what you have. Grow old together with a young heart. And when Death seperates you, the world will weep as well.

I have loved, Dear Readers.

Happy Valentine's Day to you all!

Stop, breathe, think

2009-02-06T21:53:00.003-06:00

So I am looking back and notice the past several posts have nothing to do with the intended journey I planned. "MY GOD!" I need to shake it off! My apologies to those of you folowing this blog. It's the "petty bs " that becomes boring and in turn creates "boring people".

There are other influences in my life. Many. I'll write in the early morning tomorrow.

Mindless crap generating from the BOOB TOOB

2009-02-05T21:03:00.003-06:00

I don't know what it is, but there are to women watching a TV show on my futon. My bed. What they are watching is more of the issue..American Dance Off!! OOOOHH!! I am so impressed by gyrating, hip hop dancers mimicing what has been done before. Then there is the "canned" screaming throngs of untold and unseen millions in the background! Mindnumbing crap! Can anybody relate?!

And what is worse I think the two bimbos watching that crap are really into it! No! I take that back, they live it as well as the other bullshit TV shows on nowadays.

Whatever happened to shows with substance? Movies, classics, etc. Instead they are being replaced with Entertainment that ISN'T Entertainment at all. Just BS! Seems like EVERYONE can be a star!

However, I have been slammed with the likes of MTV reality shows, Dance shows and Brett (does this bandana make my ass look big?) Michaels Rock of Luv.....GAK!!! I wanna Puke!!! And the women in this household soak it up!! It's amazing!! You know, a monkey would probably turn the History channel on! I don't know. I do know this, I was condemned for watching my shows and OMG!! if I ever commented on how mindless their shows were!!

Seems I've written about this before, eh?!!

Enough!

2009-01-26T19:08:00.002-06:00

I have had enough! Enough snow! Enough cold! Enough!! And this is maniacal since I CAN move! I can! I'm lookin'! Lookin' South! Far South! Very far!! Listened to some Jimmy Buffett this afternoon whilst doing my deliveries. Wrong! You know, for as much as the Man makes me feel good about livin' life as a Tropical Gypsy there is that very small factor of his songs which hit me hard! They're his "Heart Songs" I shall call them. Two in particular that move me to the edge of sadness are what I listened to this afternoon. Why?! Why not.
One that effected me most was one that I feel right now after years of giving. And that is what i do best! Give. I give and ask nothing in return. So it is with much sadness that I have given many years to someone and asked nothing in return. Maybe I should have. Now I do!
Jimmy's song hits home. I had no goals of my own, just to give what I could, all I could to see someone else reach their own. In return I guess I expected the only thing, to be loved forever, unconditionally. ..? "What the fu.. was I thinking?!!?" So the end result; "I'm Jaded." Yep! 100%!! Don't want to EVEN think about fallin' in love with ANYBODY, EVER!!! TOO MUCH WORK AND TIME TRYING TO PLEASE SOMEONE ELSE 24/7.
Hey! I said this Blog was about me. My time out to Vent. To feel a bit down now and then, I'm entitled. Confusion is a state of mind, at times.
Winter. "Bah Humbug!" Winter will drag most down like a stormy sea. The faint of mind will go ALL the way. Me, well, thank God for bills!! Visa, MC, insurances, ...pretty screwed up, eh? My saving grace; Bills and Anthony Bourdain's, "No Reservations". That Dude has my "dream Job"!
I'm digressing. I haven't written in my Blog for quite some time. For a while it was pretty often. Need to focus. Need to focus for my upcomiong show.
I'm ranting. Boring. I'll write later. Just wanted to see myself think.
The other Buffett song? Well, I want it played at my "wake"/ Tiki Party. It goes (maybe I've written this before, if so, forgive me)

"Some people never find it. Some only pretend, but me. I just want to live happily-ever-after every now and then."
C'est Bonne!

So! I clicked these damned ruby slippers and...

2009-01-20T03:43:00.003-06:00

Please, bear with me, but I have to vent. I know, as usual. It's 5am and I've been awake since 3am. Started reading the news on the Internet. "BAD MISTAKE!"

I really have made up my mind that Americans as a whole are looking for a "bailout". "Ain't my fault!" "Wasn't me."

So, now we are on the threshold of a "New Tomorrow". Right. Miracles will abound!! Oh, yeah. So, can anybody out there tell me that a vote, "ANY VOTE!!" would make a new tomorrow?! We have new President. He's black. And?!! Is he "White America's great White Hope?! And I fear that many of the poor who voted for him are thinking there is "going to be a new and better tomorrow!"

If he were of Hispanic, Greek, Italian, Jewish, Hindi, German, Finn, Irish, Scot, Brit,....well, hopefully i don't have to name every damned creed on the planet, would it make a difference?! Will there be peace in the Middle East tomorrow. Will small bands of mercenaries (does't that word strike you as odd?! I mean, the word mercy seems like it belongs in there somewhere) stop torturing and killing mothers and their children in small villages in poor nations in Africa?! Will corruption in politics in the US stop? ...will weapons not be sold to the highest bidder? ...does the World really want Peace?! ..go back to the previous question, as long as someone can "make a buck", someone's gotta pay. Harsh thought, eh?! Can a Native-American Indian run for President?? and, if so, has one ever? And, if not, ... ...why?.....

And!!! OMG!! Is Oprah gaining weight, again?!

America, man! Whatta Party! Oh, yeah, has anybody got the latest tally in $$ on the new PElect's tab over the last 2 years? I'm excluding the 150 million plus for the Inauguration.

Actually, I'd be more interested in the combined monies spent over the last three years by the one's who DIDN'T win!

"OK!! Enough already! These damned Ruby Slippers are not working!!" "I've been had!" "Hey buddy! I want my Magic Beans back!" "And where's that guy with the Golden Egg Goose? We gots to talk, dude."

Sock of Luv!! Or, "Do you think my bandana makes my ass look big?!"

2009-01-18T21:05:00.005-06:00

Is it me, JEEZUZ?! Brett Michaels?!! I dunno? Can somebody tell me about the charisma this dude has?! Shit! I say we send him to the most militant Islamic nations and release him like the "Plague" he is! Can I getta "whoop whoop?!" Seems like anything with big tits and no brains fawns over him! This evening, I spent a grueling hour listening to all the "Bimboes" telling him how much they adored him and wanted to sleep with him! Seems like yeaterday when I was slammed for watching anything of substance (you know; the news, food channel, travel channel...) LORD help me if I made a comment about the "Rock of Love"!!!!! I was immediately banished to some "Island of the Damned!" How could I?!! No! Why would I attack that. Man of all Men?! Mr. B. Michaels?!! "OOOH! He's so hot! The way he wears his cowboy hat and that bandana!! OOH! Stop it, Brett! Stop! Oh, you, Thavage, you!!"

Once again, dear Readers, Vulvoes outweigh common sense!

"Somebody jus' shoot me!"

Testosterone?!! No way! Can't even scratch my balls when Brett's on the tube!

Take a walk on the Wild Side

2009-01-12T04:02:00.012-06:00

It was near the end of the 70's and the beginning of the 80's. All vestiges of John Lidecker were erased through my "own experimentation of Life's enhanced Pleasures". It was the end of a naive country boy and the creation of a "self-absorbed, come-what-may, overindulging asshole". I can say that now. Back then there was a bet amongst the following group of friends whom had an inside bet I wouldn't see my 30th birthday. They almost won.
Dear Readers, the following passages may, or may not be real. My writings are "through my eyes". Some of it to try to protect whom I write about and the other?!! well, through "rose-coloured glasses".
Disco was "on the rise" (oh god!), the Mullet was now more stylish (EEEK!!), "good cocaine was now the "cool choice of hip" and could make a monkey speak seven languages fluently", the introduction of the new "look" was oversized tennis shoes and full calf stockings (for the ladies...of course, the full body leotards were a bit awesome I might add). It was cool to wear your collar up! Your long hair was revamped by stylists "feathering, or layering" it (very stylish). And if you had a job that was a bonus!
1976. Close to 1980. Close enough that what I am about to write I can honestly and assuredly say, if I could go back and change "that certain part of my life", well, it'd be tempting. However, I wouldn't be who I am today; a bit wiser, a bit street-smart, a bit wounded, but "I really like me!" I like who I have fostered. I have the greatest group of friends in the world! I have my beautiful and successful children who love me! I have a cool brother and a freaky sister. I dig Jimmy Buffett, drank rum and tequila in a small village on the the jungled Pacific coast of Nicaragua (only Gringo in town that day I might add). Gotta a parrot for my "Parrotthead attitude" tattooed to my chest, a nipple ring and I don't smoke, run 7-10 miles daily and drink tequila and swill beers! You gotta say "Life is good!" Nicht wahr?!
Okay, back to story hour. So, it was 1976, maybe 1975, it's blurry. As I said earlier the beginning and end of John Lidecker as he once was. I was working for the school system as a "teacher's aide" working with emotionally impaired and learning disabled children. I loved it at first. In college I was studying all the classes I needed to become a teacher someday for these "innocent tragedies". Psych, Soc, Education,..I took it all in with a desire to master tools for the trade. And did well. So well as a matter of fact, that when I decided to leave, the school administrator for this particular department "begged me to stay"! Why didn't I?!! Let's just say I discovered I was just as emotionally impaired and disabled as they. Too!! I didn't appreciate the discrimination they faced in life and by some of the other teachers as well. I digress.
We had a summer camp program for the children which I enjoyed as well as the kids. My teacher from the school system and myself had our classroom involved in a 6 week program which gave them an opportunity to live "outside the walls" of discipline so to speak. And it was there I met the "Devil Incarnate". He was the epitomy of Charles Manson with the flair and protocol of Clark Gable. He was intelligent enough to teach a sanskrit and as reckless as a redneck with a loaded shotgun and a case of Budweiser shopping at Christmas. I'll never forget the day we met at camp. He introduced himself and kind of..."took command" of my naive persona immmediately saying, "Follow me." As I stumbled behind him with a small party of the children along a wooded path I "wondered what he was up to. Just met the fellow. Quite a few children he has in charge." After a hundred yards into the woods he stopped, looked around, then said, "Watch this." What seemed to be lightning agility on his part was only my dumb reaction to what happened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small deringer and fired two shots into a nearby tree!!! Children scattered in all directions myself included. Above it all I could hear him nearly choking from laughter in the woods. Collecting and calming the children took some time. When it was all over his antic became the fixation of me and the kids. We were intrigued. "How and why the hell?!" But, my Dear Readers, that was it, finito, sayonara, ende,..buh-bye for John L. "Hellooo, Risque'!!!
My new friend had a group of cohorts which I became a part of "the Pack" through an indoctrination I will not speak of for fear of being wanted by the KGB (no animals were involved). "The Pack" was an assembly of fellows mostly from the St. Joe area (which I enjoyed because it took me closer to the Lake on an almost daily basis). Each had a nickname. For me to belong I had to assume one. So it was the moniker, "Risque'" was bestowed upon me when they discovered my talent (unbeknownst to me) of achieving a date whenever I wanted. Mostly, very desirable women. maybe they saw the self pity in my eyes...maybe it was how cool I dressed! HA!!! It was a time when I was most vulnerable, because of the ensuing destruction I imposed upon my relationship with my "High School Sweetheart".
Back to Camp. This is important, because I have to give my new friend an ID. He earned it (thus his old nickname was nixxed in place of the new from an eventful afternoon) from a lunchtime meal one of the children had. I will walk this one as "stepping on glass". It is a long time past. There was never the intent of harm. However, once again, feelings and emotions come into play. Luckily, no one was affected long term, except the person who made fun. Maybe he deserved the hell he created for himself thereafter....I know I did. Haven't seen him in over 20 years and don't know if he's alive. If he is then he like myself changed for the better. Back to lunch. Our children were from backgrounds in life that some of us will never know (THANK GOD!). Some were the by product of abuse physical and chemical. Some were merely DNA. One of my children was diagnosed severe autism. He amazed me the afternoon I saw him intently watching a bug. I approached his desk and as I was about to ask he told me the name in English and Latin of the spider he was playing with. He then began to tell me the different varieties and species, their English and Latin names and venomous, or non. He could also spell their Latin names!! He was 11 years old and in my classroom!! He was one of many of the child anomalies I found and can only hope he's teaching in a University somewhere...sorry, digressed again. Anyway one of the children was enjoying his lunch when his teacher (my friend) asked him, "What're you eating?" He began to burst out in his horrendous laughter and pointed to the child who at that moment was in a state of shock and confusion, "Lidecker, check this out! Robert Earl is munchin' on a chicken leg sandwich!" "Haw Haw Haw!!" It was then all mayhem ensued! Robert Earl had no recourse, but to bolt! And he did! It was Keystone Cops at Camp Crystal Springs! Robert was the fastest child on the planet that afternoon! Dear Readers I must be graphic over the next paragraph, because it is the ONLY way to allow you to envision what was going on. Robert Earl (don't know his last name and maybe that's not his first) was a 12 year old black child from a poor, oppressed family with little emphasis on education. He, unfortunately, was the by-product of society. He was destined to "F... Up"! Not his fault! Pisses me off when we can bailout ASSHOLES in business with false intentions, but we can't help our needy?!! WTF! So Robert Earl is running out of the campground with several adults in pursuit, myself being the runner of the group, could not catch him! As he ran I stopped and examined with amazement of this young child, black, in his underwear (couldn't afford a bathing suit), running through a tomato field presently being fertilized!! We all stopped. Then we ran toward the cars. An hour later and wondering what we were going to explain to his parents and Our Director the Camp received a phone call,..from the Old Tavern Inn. "Hey, you guys missin' a little one from your Camp? Well, we got a green negro (fertilzer from the tomato field) in his underwear bawling the livin' dayights here!"
God's honest truth! At the end of the day (our campers returned home every day) the teachers collected and after some moments of sobriety began to laugh. And then we began to laugh histerically! Who on this planet would believe what happened that afternoon?! And after confronting "The Pack" with our story it was with much agreement that my new friend's "new nickname" would be, "Chicken Leg Sandwich"! I kid you not.
Actually, I would love to tell you more about the experience I had at summercamp. About the time I got reprimanded. ...yes?! Okay, just one more then back to Story Hour. It was the last week of our 6 at Crystal Springs. The week when the "Christian Church Camp" brought their children. That one week is stressing for both groups. The Church Counselors as well as ourselves knew the possibilties of problems arising. And it so happened that one afternoon it was me that got in trouble. I was walking with some of the campers. Some happened to be from the Christian group and happened to be young girls (BACK OFF PERVS!!!). They must've been attracted to my long hair. I did have quite long hair back then! From the farside of the campground I could hear children laughing and one of the young campers was running toward me yelling at the top her voice, "Mr Lidecker! Come quick!" Oh no. As I ran around the side of one of the 2 story cabins I saw a group of little girls (from the Christian Group...it gets worse) laughing and pointing at the window on the second floor of the cabin. There he was, swinging from an open window,..buck naked. I stood there in awe. "What the hell?" I thought. "He forgot his meds?!!" Needless to say I didn't react quick enough and was soon surrounded by the Counselors from the Christian group. "Yours?" "Yep." "Get him down and get out." ...no time to react. Several days passed before I was informed to meet the Director. I was prepared to be fired. Instead, after listening to the apologies administered from our Director to the C group with the promise of my demise he stopped in mid sentence (puffing a pipe,...cool!) and looked intently at me momentarily then began laughing! "Forget to give him his Meds?" "Yep." He howled! "You should've heard them! They were out for blood! Yours! They called you a good for nothing Hippie!!" "Lidecker." "Yessir." "Don't let it happen again, you're too valuable." I walked out of his office shaking my head. I had been complimented by the Director, not fired. "WTF?!"
So it was the "Chicken Leg Sandwich" (whom I shall abbreviate, CLS) and I became the best of friends. He thought it was cool that I didn't get fired and took the scenario I was involved in to his friends embellishing it with how cool I was in telling off the C group! Didn't happen like that. Our group was comprised of the following; CLS, Risque', Killer, Mad Dog, Woody and Otto. We were informidable. Our credo was to see how many bars we could be thrown out of in a single night. Killer, the smallest in our group would try to pick a fight with the biggest brute he could find in a bar. We were crazy! Unleashed! Brazen!
I spiraled downward, my life was not mine anymore. CLS was losing it too. Our behavior was irresponsible. Note: You cannot mix alcohol with shotguns in a Volkswagon! I won't go into it, just trust me. Note: You DO NOT buy a brand new BMW and let your drinking buddies chase cats on sidewalks with it! NO!! Note: You do not invite your Party Animal Buddies to pick you up at work to go out partying (while we've been) when you teach Basketball at a Jesuit Seminary!! NO!! Double NO!! And!! And!! You don't tell your wife and daughters you're choosing drugs and alcohol over the family AFTER your wife has given you an option. No, unquestionably and without a doubt, no. CLS spent a week on my sofa before my wife said, "He's got to go." (knew him long enough to get married and start having my own children). I had managed to salvage what he could not; self-respect. Here was a man who could not say No. And honestly, began to scare the Bejeezus outa me!
So it was, the last morning I ever saw him, CLS rode off into the morning mist on his pink (faded red) Harley. I don't know where he is, but I do know this. That was one totally FU.... UP, dude! Scary thing is,..coulda been me. Take care, my friend.

In retrospect I must admit this blog as being the best therapy ever administered. It has given me the opportunity to review my past. It is me speaking to myself for others (who care to read) to listen. Your judgement is not my concern. It is mine. I am writing to try to understand how and why it is where I am in my life today. It is to look and critique what has ensued throughout my 55 years on this planet. My ups and downs, wins, losses, dreams, desires, passions!!! I love life!! Thank god my parents decided to create an embryo be it an act of love, or the aftermath of a night on the town. I love life for the fact that I can still feel pain, I can cry!! I thought I couldn't till I found myself on what I thought was another trainwreck in my life. I thought I couldn't until the day my friend "Lawrence" left town, defeated, penniless, pissed off and incapable of knowing what lay next on the horizon. I'm glad to know his journey might be going well for him, finally. And I thought I couldn't cry until my children told me they love me. "God, Life can be so fu..... lonely at times when we're confused", but, here I am. As I said before, it's now about ME. And I am trying to collect in my brainmass what I had left behind in the form of desires and goals, dreams.
I worked with the school system for several years before leaving. I would have been a great teacher. The passion was there. My experience in Art has afforded me opportunities. In 1976, our country's bi-centennial, I was asked to perform my art on the Art Train which was crossing the US. They had asked me to travel with them. I said no. I had a gallery frame several of my paintings. They wanted to sell them. I said no. I had a friend whom introduced me to a well known Artist based in New York city. He wanted to apprentice me. I said no. I was accepted into the University of Freiberg, Germany to continue my studies in Duetsch and Art. I said no. Accepted into the NY School of Design,...Chicago, U of M, IU, Bloomington,..the list goes. I met and did art work for Charley Finley (former owner of the A's). I have Art work in almost all the continental states. In Iran, Lebanon, Tasmania, England. It's out there. My Art has taken me to Nicaragua. And where it will take me next? It remains without a doubt though, my life has been out of the ordinary and I have to thank all those involved. Because, without You there would be no opportunity. There would be no reason to unfold the "Chronological History of the World's most Unfamous Artist"
"God, I love this Bar!!"

Doris! Can't git the cart outa the driveway!!!

2009-01-11T22:57:00.001-06:00

What is it? I ask and double dog dare, ask, what is the thing with grocery carts being "public property"?!! AND!! How come these items are not returned, but sometimes remain in the domains they were pushed to? I dunno. Some things are just to be left unsaid.

Hey, how 'bout this one, the Prez-Elect. you with me?!!...anyway, the "soon to be Wiz" says, "Hey, shit's gonna hit the fan!" No, duh. My, my, my, someone's woke up. Once again, grocery carts are public property. "Okay, don't stop me. I'm rolling!"

How 'bout this one,...guys wearing their jeans sooo low they have to hold on to the belt (providing they wore one) and walk "bow-legged" in order to keep them up?!! Eh?!! I'll bet they don't have a clue where that trend began. Anybody know?! Prisons. Yes, prisons. The so-called "Bitch" would declare "himself" taken, or available by the way he wore his pants. Wearing them low meant he was available. Once again I ask, "When did grocery carts become public property?"

I'm tired and desire a good night's rest. Tomorrow night I will write about another "life influence". Ciao.

Potential is in the eye of the Beholder

2009-01-04T09:55:00.004-06:00

Eh?! I'll get back to the photo.

Driving through countrysides I find myself looking at the potential there is for Tiki Bars. Seems like when I pass a small pond with a house near it I say to myself (outloud most times), "Tiki Bar". I can see it! Wazzup w'dat?! Is there something wrong with me?! Somebody has a small body of water in their backyard and I'm ready to string lights around it with a deck going out into the water!

C'mon! To me it's an opportunity to bring in the "throngs" of party people to hang in an environment such as ours and pretend we're south of the equator. I then have an excuse to wear my Hawaiian Shirts, Lei's, Flip Flops, Shorts,.. Ya'git my drift?!

So, I'm losing a backyard and deck. I'm losing the meeting grounds for "World Peace through Heavy Sedation. The lights are now gone as well as both Tiki Bars. And with that loss is the Theme Manager, JohnnyBoy. Jus' won't be the same. But, check out the photo. I see Potential in a higher form. I see a Tiki Bar that floats!! And hopefully she does. She's been sitting there for quite sometime and everytime I drive by I see her sitting in the "Mighty St. Joe river" sportin' colourful lights and blastin' J.Buffett!!

I'm nuts. "Uno mas, por favor."

Sunday morning..."Where's my plane?!"

2009-01-04T09:38:00.005-06:00

Looking out the back window and I feel empty. What was once a place for people to gather and celebrate the Tropics in downtown Niles is now a Wasteland. Those of you who attended the Tiki Parties remember. Many a time several of you discovered my weakness and tried to "duct tape" me to a lawnchair in which I had passed out on. "Couldn't Hang, Guys!" Sorry. Meds.

My meds have given and taken. Given me opportunity to monitor my blood pressure, my anxiety and taken, 'cause the labels on the bottles read: DON'T TAKE WITH ALCOHOL!

Woops, m'bad!

A Bohemian I am and will die. Love life, guess just enough to make an ass out of myself. If it embarassed anyone, change the channel. The fact is, they were great parties, colourful, musical and everyone had a good enough time to ask for more. Hell, we partied in downpours and snow!!!

Things and people change. Me however, as long as there are colourful lights, the Conga lines will continue to dance to the rythms of the islands! Mas Tequila!!

Helllloo 2009!

2009-01-01T09:52:00.006-06:00

As I look back at the previous year I sit here and wonder how we'll fare in '09. 2008 just seemed to SLAM everyone I knew! It came like a scirocco leaving a desert wasteland full of misery, defeat, death, loss of jobs,...I could go on.
Mine started July 5th that's about the time I decided to start writing on this blogsite. I needed to vent, cry, express the moments sadness and joy. The trials, tribulations, the vanquished loves of "not only myself", but of others, 2008 had to be, by far, the most horrendous year I have lived! It amazes me the amount of crap that came to the world seemingly overnight. Gas prices?!! Whassup with that?!! Some places encroaching and exceeding $5 p/gallon! And now?!! I have to ask, "Who benefitted? And what was their motive?" I'm not going there. Not now. This is the morning after 2008. No Politics today.
I'm writing this looking out of my studio window. My Studio. This too, shall pass. I will be leaving a life I thought was there forever. I've learned, "nothing, absolutely nothing, lasts forever". I know too that it is now ME. As I said before the world is now mine. How I create it, how I address it from a daily basis is totally up to ME. And likewise, it is up to YOU, my devoted Readers.
I look back at '08 and reminesce the posts I wrote. I vented and at one point, realised that my opinionated rantings hurt someone. NOT my intentions! No, this person is not out to hurt anyone. I did receive a lot of good comments. I thank you! I have found I have a follower from Norway, of all places. Damned, the internet is an awesome machine! I have had fun writing most of the blogs. Some of the ones that were "dark" were my therapy sessions. As a matter of fact, I had signed up for therapy at one point. It was a horrible moment when I thought I had lost control of MY life. I didn't think suicide, but I felt as the world was falling away. I do dream of a lifestyle and it seemed at that moment to be "ebbing" away. It was scary. However, my children came to my rescue, unknowing their father was on the brink of a mental breakdown, which I never would've admitted at the time. It was from them I had learned to LOVE myself. I had unfinished business. I don't want to die without having tried! My kids are too precious to me to ever let them down. I gained insights from my children that told me they are now ADULTS. They were giving their 'ol man advice and I listened! The best advice (and it still makes me laugh) came from my oldest son Seth. I swear, that boy gets his brains from his mother! Pisses me off that I lack foresight, but my "Ex", Rebecca, raised them well. Seth gave me a bit of advice that held two options. I pondered them. They were going to take time for a decision. I made it. That will not be told, but will come to fruition when the time is right. No, nothing drastic!! Gawd! You Radicals!! My thought processes work slow. Over time, I've come to learn this (no pun intented),..HA!! It was funny!! I digress. I had to sort things out. Like I said, it's now about ME. I called off the therapy sessions.
2009. I dunno what it is, but something feels strange. In a good way. I'm going to follow MY dreams. It's time. The photo above (not the best shot) is my morning after shot. I'm looking at it and I think to myself, "MAN! WHAT A RIDE!" There's some times behind those wrinkles and some stories behind those eyes. I have to be confident. I have to believe. I exacted those to my "soon to be EX, but, she doesn't see it right now. I gave her confidence when she was down. I told her when she felt defeat to keep trying. I told her that "someone, some company" would find her and "let them run with the ball!" She has a lot to offer. I know that. Today, she's a very precious commodity to her organisation and they thank her, repeatedly. Funny, how I can see that in others and not myself. I told my children growing up "Be what you want, I believe in you." They're getting there. My son Seth is a computer guru working with a company based worldwide. This kid blows my mind with his knowledge! My daughter Audrey is going back to school to study Radiology. She "aced" her tests to avoid taking classes she didn't need. My youngest son, James-Michael, well,...he's living large in Indy. Not so much financially (doing better than his dad right now), but living his life the way HE wants to. The lad reminds me so much of myself I need to keep tabs on him. He's very talented and has a lot of ideas. I want him to succeed as an Artist! He'll do it.
So, wrapping this up,...2009 for me?!! I've got some ideas and several projects in the making. I've a show comin up late Spring (gotta bustamove on that!), a logo I want to promote (been sitting on it for years) and I just started trying to market my salsa. Gave it to a couple of business people and asked, Well, can we sell it?!"
Failure is not an option. Life has "ups, downs, tragedies, joy, etc. It's how we handle it and how we've been influenced throughout our lives. Especially, from birth! My childhood was tough! However, knowing that makes ME responsible for the rest of my life. It is and will always be,...
A Chronolgical History of the World's most Unfamous Artist!
2009 People!!! It's our, Baby!!!!

Christmas 2008

2008-12-27T01:54:00.011-06:00

Did everyone have a good Christmas? I did.
I spent it with MY Family, my kids, my grand kids, even the X. My present (soon to be X was there. too), but I had a WONDERFUL time with MY kids. It took me back to when I was a FATHER to MY Kids. We shared memories of when they were little ones and I was their Dad takin'm places and havin' fun!!
Never had to walk on "eggshells" worrin' if I was gonna hurt their feelings. 'Cause I was their Father. What I said was law and for their own good. AND only a Father will understand where it is I "come from".
They're Great kids with Brilliant Futures.
THEY LOVE ME, UNCONDITIONALLY!!! Ain't nobody can take that away!!!
To my Sister, Arlene, YOU ROCK!!
To the Pirate, keep the faith, Babe and don't sink the ship!
To "Muh", dude, Antarctica!?!!??
To Larry, It's gonna happen, hold on!
To Todd, be YOU!! PLEASE!!!
To Ulrik, DAGMAR?!! We gotta talk, U DAWG! ..?!!cool! And let me know when Mana is playin Managua, "cause I'm gonna be there!! miss you and talking to your ol' man. God! He really needs to go to a Buffett concert with me to loosen up!! Loved his cigars, though!
To Suzeebee, thanks for takin time to give me feedback.
To the rest....whoa...
To B-Guy, thanks, man. We're ol' signmen and gotta be proud. I'm gonna make '09 our best, I promise.
To Senor Tracey, please write!!!
To all my friends and Readers, 2009 can only bring 2 things; success, or failure. I know where i'm gonna go.
Peace! and Happy Holidays!
Failure is not failure, it's a test. It's opportunity to change something that "ain' gonna work no matter how hard you try to fix it. Sometimes you just gotta push it aside and say,...NEXT!!!
It's getting close, Dear Readers. The Artist in me is starting to be "Reborn". Some of you are too young to remember when I was the "crazy Artist runnin' around Niles, doin' my Thing. All I gotta say is this, "He's back and He's ready to let lose!!" It will be an AWESOME year for the Artist! Just wait!
"I ain't playin' no more, thanks to someone reminding me that I REALLY was WASTING my time being NOBODY, but a "houseboy"!!
Time to follow my dreams.
Peace, my Friends. Yes, I'm pissed off. More at my self for being a fool. Like I said, "never again and don't f... with me!!" I'll share the ride, but that's all. My love is reserved to true friends and to my children and theirs.

My Heart

2008-12-18T20:41:00.011-06:00

Growing up I never considered myself as goodlooking. I was taunted through school, beatup, continually harassed because of my size (I graduated weighing 112lbs) and forever was embarassed by my looks. I wasn't "cool", didn't "hang" with the upper crust, the jocks,...I felt like a nobody. I did have my "misfit " group of friends. They were my home. The artists, brainiacs, weirdoes, the girls who were dowdy, or very smart (not good to be seen with a jock), the "exotic" girls who were above the BS in school.

And so it was that I had accepted the fact I were to be forever "without" a girlfriend. I thought.

And then,...well, how does one describe the feeling that an Angel had come forth to rescue me from my "cell of doubt"? She was sitting on a sofa in a friends living room. It was a party. Not the kind of party one probably thinks; no booze, no drugs, no kinky stuff in the bedroom, just a party of friends that gathered to be with one another. She was sitting there. I was in awe. She was beautiful and "where the Hell did she come from?" I think she noticed me looking. I can't remember if we were introduced, or if she began the conversation, but I found myself sitting next to her. I was shy. I was embarassed to be near such beauty. "I was not worthy."

Her hair was red. Almost a golden red. It was curly from, I would have thought, hours sitting before a magic mirror getting ready for the Ball. Her skin was fair and soft. Her eyes radiated the colors of a heritage bred from two nations. She was...."drop dead gorgeous!!" And I was sitting next to her.

The evening passed too soon. We said goodbye. I wanted to see her again, yet I was too shy to ask and too nervous to try. I felt I was not worthy of such a creature. Alas, she had a suitor. A boyfriend?, mmm I don't think so. There were many fellows from our school who would have been enamoured to have her as their "girl". I went into the night, home wondering.

I found out she and her family moved from Detroit to the area. She was bred in the finest of schools. Charm school. She could sing, dance, act, read poetry, perform water ballet. She was witty, intelligent, worldly and her laugh would turn the heads of doves. She was in every bit of the word "perfect". Then it hit me. I was falling for this charming beauty. I wanted to stop it. I would only hurt myself at the hint of refusal. But, we met again. It was then I had decided to "ask her out". The Ready Theatre. A movie. I felt the weight of my fears. Denial, humiliation, they were my stones through life. I pressed. I asked. ..... ..... She ACCEPTED!!!

It was the beginning of a fairy tale for me. I was transformed from the school mascot to the school enigma. "How does Lidecker end up with a girl like that?! Trust me, not even I could figure it out. It was the beginning of a new life for me. She was my dream. However, it was just "the beginning".

We had gone on many dates. There were the trials and tribulations that come with any possible relationship, however. There was the issue of the "suitor". He was in my class (she was a junior, I a senior) and I new him. We were, prior to my interest, friends. But that, as we do, changed. He became a rival and suddenly I was thrown into a world I had never experienced before; JEALOUSY!!!! Not good! It is a common thing amongst young men, however when the testosterone is flowing!! For myself, it could be devastating. I battled with my fears. It did however ebb when the "suitor" was told he would be "just a friend". Should have ended there (my fears).

I remember growing closer to her each time I was with her. I was now beyond the "point of no return", I was "falling in love". Why not? She was as I had described the most beautiful young woman in the world!! And so, it was time to let her know my feelings. But how? I lacked the experience. The finesse. I was nervous. And then, I decided it was time. I picked an evening.

We were walking together, hand-in-hand as we often did. She lived in town, I in the country. I enjoyed Niles in those days, still a bit of business thriving downtown. I enjoyed the bustle of the small town compared to the rural life I had lived from birth. As I was saying, we were walking along one of the streets near her house. It was then I began to blurble my words. I was starting to back out. I had to fight my fears! I stammered some more. She was piqued by my attempts to talk. I saw a street sign. Third street. "I would use the street sign to tell her!" I said, "There is something I have to tell you, but cannot. It's like the street sign. It has three words." She knew. She was amused (in a good way mind you). "I want to tell you that,..that,.. I,.. I,.. it's like the sign. I want to tell you (good gawd man! give it up!!) that I love you." My god, that was the most difficult thing I had ever had to say in my entire life. Those three words alone can decide the destiny of one's life.

We kissed. My first kiss ever. Not the best, I'm sure, but for me it was the greatest feeling I had ever experienced, ever!! It was the beginning of many a walk and many kisses. It was also the beginning of the test of friendships and the encounter of the other side of John Lidecker.

Our lives were bonded through the "union of one's first love". We were inseperable. I would try my best to be with her every moment possible. She was always in my thoughts. I wrote her love songs. ......it was beautiful,...but, I was harbouring a beast.

I could write page after page of my love this person. I could write the details of our lovelife, but will not. I will write however, my epitaph. For it is when I die that I shall want the world to know "A chronological history of the Artist".

I mentioned my fears. My fears were my enemies the strongest being my Insecurity. The other Distrust. They festered in me as a virus taking control of my mind. When she would go out with her friends I questioned her. If she did not return my calls I waited (no cell phones in those days). And then I would question her. I doubted her! WTF?!!! What the Hell was I doing?!! She was a Rose. A Butterfly! The Sunrise!

It was 1975. My father suffered a second stroke which killed him and the man I began to know as just more than my father. I was devastated inside! She was there with me to console me. She had stayed the night at our house. What I descibe next, dear Readers, is the absolute truth. You have the right to decide what to believe, or how to explain it. I will descibe the morning after the Day of my Father's death.

I will digress this story for a moment only to relate something that both she and I could never deem possible and could never explain. Prior to my father's death he and I had bonded as Son and Father. A bond we celebrated after years of the "son who never listens" and the father "who never understands". As I had put forth in an earlier blog his first stroke had taken him down hard! I worked at his side every day to get him back to where he wanted to be, "back at work" (a true German). The day he died he refused to let me drive him to work. Instead he had told me he loved me and said "goodbye". My mother took him to work that day which I had done every day. This time it was goodbye forever. He died at work, his way to die an honorable death.

My girlfriend had spent the night at our home. It was a beautiful house, tri-level, a large glass fireplace, vaulted ceilings and in the basement level, my father's pride and joy, his bar. We had a woods surrounding our small estate. I loved it! We had a dog part German Shepherd, part Malmute. She was my father's favorite. She never barked. Must've been the Malmute side. Until.

It was early morning the first week of October. I was sleeping in our family room and my girlfriend in my bedroom. I was awakened by several things that happened simultaneously. Before I had even opened my eyes I noticed first a chill. I thought nothing but the beginning of the fall season. The second thing I noticed was the sound of some animal. It was eerie! I couldn't make it out, except, it sounded like...like a dog trying to howl the first time in it's life! I opened my eyes when I realised it was our dog! The final thing that I noticed was my girlfriend standing in the opening to the family room staring wide eyed at me with fear! She said, "I just saw your father! He was standing in your closet looking at me!" EVEN TODAY!!! EVEN TODAY!!, dear Readers, that episode of my life makes me tingle! It's all true. The dog trying to howl at the same time of my father's appearance, the room freezing at that moment then returning to normal shortly thereafter....Mind you, I am by far not a Religious man. After that episode however, I am a Spiritual man! I can only explain it as so; My father had loved me so much he wanted to come back and either say, everything would be okay, or he came back one more time to see me and say goodbye. I hope he wasn't too disappointed to see my girlfriend. ....she did like sleeping nekked. ......just had to put that in there for the "pervs".

Okay, time to wrap this saga up. Some time after that shit had begun to run downhill. I was trying to help my mother and keep up the grounds, go to school (I chose to stay at the nearby community college which also kept me nearer to my girlfriend) and work part time. It was also the demise of my mother. She had taken on a boyfriend. He wanted me out and he wanted our mother's real estate and money. He was very good. I was thrown out of the house. With nowhere to go my girlfriend had acquired an apartment in Niles and taken me in. WOW!! This was great!

Going to school, coming home and cooking for my girl,... Soon after it was, going to school, hanging out with my friends at the bar, going home drunk to my girl..... you get the picture. Our lives were rapidly deteriorating, thanks to me.

I believe in two things this world can offer; 1. Things happen for a reason and 2. Nothing lasts forever!!!!!! I became an Ass. I was ignoring my girlfriend, placing more emphasis on my life (which was slithering down the toilet) and spending my time and money with friends from school rather than where it should have been. Focusing on the person who had given my life meaning and a sense of worth!

My father died leaving us with some bit of an inheritance. I quickly began to drain mine. It was 1976, Bi-Centennial of the US!! I had decided to travel a month in Europe. Things were so-so in our relationship and thought a bit of distance would do us both good (wrong!). I purchased a passport, railpass and student Hostel card. I had $1000 cash and travellers cheques (good sum of money in those days). I bought a Fodors Guide to Europe. I was ready!

My girlfriend and a small entourage of our friends had taken me to O'Hare for my flight. First time I'd ever flown. And!! I had reserved my ticket through Icelandic Airlines. The horror stories I had heard after my purchase, planes crashing, snow coming through the windows,...!!!

I kissed my girlfriend and began to feel this trip really wasn't what I needed, but I didn't know what to do. I boarded the plane. As we taxi'd out to the tarmac the pilot told us we would be delayed due to a storm coming across Lk Michigan. #1. I've never flown, I'm becoming concerned. #2. There's a freakin' storm outside with lightning and I'm sitting in the middle of it in a metal bomb with wings!!! After what seemed an hour the pilot told us there was a "window of opportunity". ?!! Window?! The plane lurched forward. I was thrust back into my seat! I've never been on a rollercoaster, but I'm sure our ride up was everything as!! We travelled up into dark clouds lightning crackling about us! What the F... was I thinking! I'm too young to die!!! I miss my girlfriend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then, it was over. We were above everything. It was eerily calm. Is this right?! The Stewardesses came out with complimentary drinks, Cognac. I gulped mine down. The gentleman next to me asked, "first time?" Yep. "Here, you can have mine. Looks like you need it more than me." Thanks! I saw the world 7 miles below. It was nightfall as we flew over Quebec. The lights below became more sparce as we entered Labrador, then nothing. The Atlantic! We were crossing the Ocean! It was below us and I couldn't see it! And then the most beautiful sight I'd seen appeared in the horizon. The Northern Lights! So clear and seemed so close, it almost appeared as they fell into the North Pole. Greenland was below us when I could make out land. Rocky, high and black cliffs surrounded the island while miles and miles of glacier and snow covered the enterior. Iceland was our layover. Beautiful, rugged and clean! Our trip into Europe took us to our destination of Luxembourg. After bouncing several times on landing we skidded to a stop that would impress most Nascar drivers. The pilot unapologetically said, "Thank you for flying Icelandic Airlines."

Facing fears are what we do as a species. Facing those fears and conquering them are ours to deal with solely as an individual in most cases. I faced mine then and lost. It was tragic and profound at the time. And to this day there is no closure. I will divulge to my Readers something that has been kept a secret in my life for the past 35 years (no, I am not gay!!!). This is as I said my Epitaph. And one's epitaph should express the individual as close as possible with all truths before oneself. The truth can be told easily if told immediately. If held back it can become a burden that must be avoided at all times. How tiring!

I began to look for shelter. Met an American from Boston who told me to follow him to the Univ. in Lux. Beds and cots could be had for $5. A deal. Until! I was next in line and they were full. I travelled into town found a beautiful room with large glass doors that opened to the city two floors below me. I was tired. Tried to take a leak in the Bidet', WRONG!!! and went to sleep awaking to the sounds of the city outside and the gnawing pangs of homesickness and missing my girl. I walked through town and decided upon where I wanted to go. I had a month! Greece? Italy? Spain? They were where I decided. I walked to the train station and looked for a train to the South. As I was wandering a group of American Students had caught my attention. I asked them for some assistance and before long I was heading North to Amsterdam with my new found friends. WRONG!! In Brussels we had to change trains. While waiting I decided to look around the city. It was beautiful. Very old. Very rich in Architecture. I walked back to the station only to discover the train had come and gone as well as the Yanks. No big deal. I'll take another. I boarded a train which must have been a less direct route. We were stopping at almost every village on our journey. And then, it started. We had stopped in a small village and picked up some passengers. An old woman accompanied by a young woman sat across from me. They were speaking and looking at me the same time. I was a bit uncomfortable and embarassed, because the young woman was smiling at me as she was talking. She was beautiful. No makeup, dark brown hair, fair skin and lips shaped like a cupid's bow. Cupid's Bow??!! No, that's how my sweetheart described mine!! This is wrong! I began to miss her more.

Our train made a stop at the border. It was here that my fears began to take precedent. I was sitting in my seat while the two women had left. Two French Canadians had replaced them. I had a brief conversation with the fellows before one of them had said something in French and pointed outside for his friend to see. A soldier was trying to say goodbye to his girlfriend (wife) and she was reluctant. The two French Cana's were beginning to....sniffle?!! No Way!! The train had begun to leave. The soldier was trying to board. The young woman was chasing the train. The French Cana's were.... NO!!... CRYING!!!! NO WAY!!! STOP!!!! STOP CRYING!!! OH GOD, NOT ME!!! I MISS MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We arrived in Amsterdam. As soon as I left the station I was assaulted by a very young black boy soliciting whores on the infamous barges on Amsterdam's canals. No wonder the Yanks were headed this way. I looked for a place to stay and was told of a Youth Hostel called Fat City. Problem was it was in the Red Light district. Now some of you may say, "cool", but I was a Gringo. I was young and naive. I was over 3000 miles from home and missing my girl. I found Fat City. Bunked for $5 and had a room with three German Students travelling the city, I'm sure, for it's culture. I walked around that night wondering why I had come. Wondering who I was. Wondering what my girlfriend was doing. Was she missing me? Or did it matter all to her that I was gone?! I walked pass the windows harbouring the prostitutes. I wanted to go home.

The next morning I decided to cut my stay to two weeks. It was all I could bear (idiot, yes, you're absolutely right). I found a travel agency and discovered much to my horror my ticket was good only for the times it said. One Month! I was in shock. I was no longer satisfied with not being in control of the situation. I said, "When's the next flight back?" I was no longer in control, my fears had taken over.

Three days and two nights, my dear Readers. You are the first of the miniscule few who did know of my shame. And I came back to no happy home greeting, I was humiliated and didn't want to be seen. After some time I contrived a bulls... reason for my quick return. As for my girlfriend, she had left the following week for a trip to Palm Springs with her grandmother. After her return the hole I had dug began to deepen. I was back in school taking an evening pottery course. I had become friends with an attractive blonde woman. She wasn't as beautiful as my girlfriend, but I no longer deserved her. Eventually, in my self pity I began sleeping with "the other woman". It was unbearable. The shame, guilt, remorse. I drove the nails in my heart deeper. The end came shortly thereafter. My girlfriend had caught me. I wanted to be forgiven, but she had given me one more nail. She admitted to seeing someone else also. I was in shock. This was about me!! How can she do this to me?! Then she gave me a choice. I quit seeing this other woman and she'll quit seeing the other guy. "Okay", I said. She had told me to call her and tell her,..while she was standing there. Oh God! I called. The other woman said, "Okay, goodbye." I felt cold and dead. I felt I had hurt someone, besides my girlfriend. I handed her the phone. She told me to leave and return later. She needed to talk privately. I wanted to protest, but there was no reason. It was as it was supposed to be, an earned and brutal lesson.

I think back time to time of those earlier years of my life. Wonderful, bittersweet, young and impassioned! Free spirited! I think of her once in a great while. She is doing well and like myself, a grandparent. I think of my situation in life that I must face right now. My how some things never change. I will though. And I Am. From now on it's Me. My heart has grown old from love. It's the last thing on my mind right now. Time to share my love with my children and grandkids.

And for the moment what is on my mind?! Well, I'd really like to go to Europe!!

Good Night, My Dear Readers. I had to be honest. For my sake.

2008-12-12T03:49:00.004-06:00

These are damned hard times! And...quite frankly "I'm tired." Maybe I'll wake up and look around my room and say, "WTF?!!!" Maybe I'll not wake up. Maybe I'm already dead and this is Hell. Maybe I'll wake up and there'll be small lizards running about in my thatched hut with the waves slightly pulling the pink sands of my front yard into the massive pool of turquoise salted water and the minute crystal grains settling farther and farther from shore. Maybe, just maybe I'll wake up and be happy. I mean REAL happy. I'm very disappointed in myself. I'm letting the world settle on my shoulders when it is not about the world, but about Me. I'm the only stinking Dolt who can make Me happy. Truth is I think I've found it now and again, but I see it not happening too soon.

I've been following a friend's blog for quite some time. My life could be worse as I read about his "day to day" attempts at "landing that job"! Futile I fear. Futile as me sleeping on a fu..... sofa every night until "closure".

I've tried to tell everyone, "Shit's gonna get worse! Even worse than we ever thought possible." The fan has big blades and one can sling poo at it all day and they're still gonna turn! I dunno....

Inner Peace. That's what I want for Christmas. "HEY!!!" "This is a funny thought. You think with the economy taking a crap that Christmas might, just might be Christmas once again?!!" "The throngs crashing into one another in the Malls buying, consuming, spending, over spending driving themselves deeper and deeper into the maws of Credit,..what do you think?! Think it'll be spent like I SPENT IT as a child, totally immersed into the tree adorned with lights so colourful and bright, the smells eminating from the freshcut pine, cookies, HOMEMADE cookies, the brightness of the snow at night illuminated from a crisp, starlit night?! And most of all the presents! Those gifts that Santa had brought during the night as I slept with dreams of wonderful things, of happiness. The only happiness that a child can dream of, Love. Love from their family. That warmth generated from knowing that TOMORROW, tomorrow I will see what Santa brought me and mom and dad will sit there with their eyes gleaming with the love of seeing the amazement and joy upon their children's faces. And we were happy! Happy with the one toy we had asked Santa for and happy for the other (and some years), or even a THIRD toy!! How remarkable! How Christmas! We were grateful. No crying 'cause I didn't get more than 6, or 8, or more gifts from the Santa Mall. But, Hey! Not enough?!! Well by Golly let's SHOPPING AGAIN THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS FOR THOSE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS SALES!!!!!!

"C'mon. PEOPLE!!! When is enough CRAP enough?!!" .....CHARGE IT!

Hell, yeah. Can't see out the back window of the car, but I got's me some sales!! "OH!! Let's stop and get something to eat at APPLEBEE's!" ....CHARGE IT!

Sorry, I'm not doing it anymore. What can I possibly give at Christmas that people haven't been buying year round at the Santa Mall?!! And this Christmas?!! For ME?!! Well, I ain't sleepin' on the sofa!!! Besides, It'll be best if I'm not around. Too bad, but, hey, I'm going to spend it drinking Champange Christmas Eve on a beach, or if that fails, in a Hotel Room in some town. Chicago, if my son goes with me, but I'd probably like to find a little town along the Lake Coast and get a B&B for the night.

Honestly, it doesn't bother me. What bothers me is there is sooo much unhappines happening right now it's hard to concentrate. And for those 35,000 slated to be "axed" over the next 3 years from Bank of America, "Don't... ...CHARGE IT!"

I would REALLY like to spend Christmas with no cell phones, no Vick'y Secret striped bags lying about, no GIFT CARDS, no $200 video games, no looks of disappointment and no fear of running deeper into the maws of the Credit Companies.

Our world as we know has changed, "Thank you very much." As I knew it was just a matter of time.

So, how do I end this blog with a happy note?!

My friends and my family, know this; You can be happy. you can make it if you really want to. The problem is, it's going to be a different world coming our way. If we can adjust, we'll be fine! What we do have that can only be shared is Love for one another. The other stuff,..enh, it's BS! Take a walk downtown on Christmas day. Go sledding, ice skating, or give a gift to a stranger in need.

Quick note then I'm fried,..speaking of strangers. There is this man walking around town with a dog and a small portable 2 wheeled cart to carry the bottles he's retrieving from the local containers (no, not Can Man). This fellow has a dog. I see them throughout Niles walking together. Rather kind of sad looking duo. But, the man has a friend, the dog. One day I noticed the dog limping and the fellow walking slowly so his friend would travel easier. It bothered me. I thought if that dog were to become worse, what could the fellow do? However, I do notice the dog is better. However!! One of the two wheels on the cart were missing. The man still pulled it. I dunno?! Is it me? I know what I'm giving someone for Christmas. I hope they won't be offended, but stuff like that just hits!!! When I think life sux, all I gotta do is open my eyes!!!

So, I leave you with a request. There are two songs I'd really like my Dear Readers to listen to this Holiday Season. Both by John Lennon; Imagine and So this is Christmas.

Happy Holidays!

I'm goin' LIVE!!

2008-12-01T19:36:00.002-06:00

Well, I finally took the plunge, "no, not that one and never again, I say." I finally registered the World's Most Unfamous Artist online; http://www.worldsmostunfamousartist.com/

It's still crude. It's name is long, but I thought about it for a couple weeks and decided, "Hey! That's who I am!" So now it is time to work. I need to re-route my agenda, my focus. It is the beginning of where I wanted to be over 30 years ago, but sometimes Art has a way of deciding it's own course and taking the Artist along for a "bumpy" ride.

So, dear Readers, you are now an acquaintance of quite possibly the most Unfamous Artist the World has ever known...mmm,.. I think I need to lay down! feelin' woozy! oh my gawd, this stardom, I can't handle it!!!

2008-11-30T22:58:00.000-06:00

Sweet William

2008-11-30T19:32:00.003-06:00

I have yet to define the reasons and, or events in my life that culminated in the future grooming of my "civilised" character makeup. Things happen for a reason?! Shit happens?! KAKA occurs?!!! Idunno. However, what did happen to me and the people in my life that were involved are very much the reason who I am today. "No. I don't hold you accountable".

And, for what seems like an infinitesmal portion of my growing years there was the influence of "W". Do not take it out of context. We all have an opportunity to evolve as humankind on the chain of morality vs. mortality.

"W" was the Phineas in my life, unbeknownst to me. He was the mentor of my cadence?! My, shall we say, sophisticated upbringing from the previous life I had known. No,..no "swapping of spit, here, you pervs"!

He was the artistic influence I needed unknowingly, and the spiritual guidance I never knew.

I'd met "W" in our early years in HS. He was by far, the most "different" of my friends, yet very unopposing and most important to me, non-"jockular". At that time in my life I was very keen to the "jocks" playing pranks upon me and torturing me with their "bullish" testosterone laden libidoes (weighing 95lbs in HS was not the greatest thing to happen to a little Dude!).

There was "W", however. And he as well as myself were all knit into that group I would nowadays describe as, "misfits".

"W" had charisma; had a zeal for life that one could digest into parts of a Shakespearean play, the characters being ourselves, of course.

How does one describe such a character?! He is and remains perplexing, an enigma. His virtues in this life remain true to his being. If ever there were trust to be held utmost, I would turn to "W".

I wanted to write something. I am at a loss. I'd like to say more, but can not. Not that I can't, but not that I wish not to. I'll say this, if ever I were to want to understand religion and righteousness, I would turn to "W". I have yet to meet anyone so humbled by life and humble in character. He is a man of true "conviction" by his faith. I am awed by how much.

He is a friend from my past that I cannot make light of when the light eminated from his character could have led throngs.

I once would have, but now would, equate him with Jesus by his mortality and morality. Forgive me if I have stepped upon toes for that one.

I speak only for me. That is the reason for this blog.

"W" was the other influence in my life.

Peace and Love, my Friend.

Turkey Run Final

2008-11-29T07:15:00.003-06:00

(Horse Race trumpets sounding.."Ta ta da da da da da ta da da...) "BANG"! "And they're off"!!
Well, dear Readers, here's what happened.
I was psych'd and ready. Confidence was high. Heck, I've been running between 8 and 10 a day and 12 on Saturdays. So. 6.2 mi is a "walk in the park, eh"?! The throngs were impressive. Actually, the 10k in Niles is touted to be one of the tougher courses in the midwest, because of the many hills in the course. Some the gathering are people from all over the country and I even spoke with a couple from Germany who'd (not just for the race) come to try it.
The moment had come and we started moving outside to the Starting line. It was a beautiful morning and I decided to wear half the weather gear I'd been wearing since the Cold came to town (another bonus). The race is comprised of 3 parts; Walk, 5k and 10k, even a Fun Run for the Kiddies.
The moment arrived and the gun sounded. I was thinking, "OK, the 10k is next. this is the 5k, right?" I asked a gent standing next to me if it was the 5k runners to which he said yes. However, something didn't look right. The runners leaving looked different then the next in line. I asked another couple if it was the 5k group. They said, "No, we're 5k". ...?!...?.."HOLY SH..!!!" Five minutes passed to let the 10k runners start. I was LAST IN LINE from the Start!! "RUN FORREST, RUN!!" And I did! I ran harder than I ever have. I was passing people in the rear gaining on the front. Then I thought, "Slow down, the hills will kill you running like this". I slowed down and found my everyday running pace. I decided to increase it a bit after a mile had passed. In my mind I envisioned every stretch of the course. I knew the course. I have run the hills almost every week in my training. I WAS READY.
My pace impressed me. Must've been the adrenilin and the thought of "for the 1st time in my life I WANT TO WIN". The race was for me. The last few months of my life were behind me. The petty BS, everything toxic was not in my head. BALLS! I HAVE BALLS! (course, you don't want to fall asleep on a sofa in a robe if you own a cat I hear in your latter years)...
I was still passing runners. I figured my pace at 8mi, or less. I knew I would kill my time from years before. And then, the Ultimate No No. I was running and following the line in the road looking down so as not to disturb my trance. In the corner of my eye I noticed a runner coming up "fast". "Wha's this"?!! "OH,..MY...GAWD! SHE...IS...SOOOOO...HOT"!! "Oh no. RUN FORREST"!! I was not going to do that! "It broke my trance!" So, a 1/4 mi later I am almost winded, thinking to myself, "what were you thin....?!" I dropped my pace fast. Half to what it was. That nearly killed my run. It was the runner's no no. "Won't do that again". "Well,..mmm, who knows, she was H O T".
The hills passed. The hill I knew I would have the most issue with was before me. (The hills in Niles are not by far the biggest, but we do have the highest elevations in Berrien County. They are long and gradual making it more challenging for runners). The one before me was the longest and had turns making it very difficult. I paced myself once again looking down to gain my trance. I was 3/4 of the way to the end of the hill when I heard someone coming up behind me. "Not again". I pushed, knowing my limits on the hill. "Dammit, I am not an old man and I am going to win"!! I pushed until I thought my Heart Specialist would say, "I told you so". "Screw it, Doc! This is something greater than another $1,500 Echocardiogram!!"
I started passing others, then more! "YEAH, BABEE!!!!"
Rounding the top of the hill brings you to another. This one is the same, yet no turns and, it's the same distance downhill as up which gives many runners an opportunity to gain their distance on the "leading pack". I made it mine.
Through it all I knew I was running the best I have in all the 40 years I've been running. I knew I had won, at least my division. In the end however, my stupidity said otherwise. I didn't place 1st, or even 3rd. I was bummed. But, I knew had I started at the time I was supposed to and toward the front of the pack, I would've nailed it by knocking 5 minutes off my time. 5 minutes! As it was, my pace was 7mph, impressive for me. Enough to walk away proud of what I had set out to do. Impressive enough to know that I can still accomplish my goals. I need that. Today, I am going to go out and run 13.
I can do that you know, because I am the, "WORLD'S MOST UNFAMOUS ARTIST"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Peace.

"Where'd you get thoes Shoooz?!"

2008-11-27T04:27:00.004-06:00

It's Race Day. dear Readers. Am I excited?! I dunno, it's 5:30 am and I can't sleep.

The photo is for my dear friend, TS in Indy. "How'ya like me now, huh?!?" Send some pics with yours, Dude!!! Really though, they're cool! I've wanted a pair of Flame Shoes for quite some time, but never motivated. Hey, nipple piercing, heart muu-muu,..Flame Shoes. right?!!

Anyway, I digress. Today is important for me; it'll be the first time I will truly compete for time. Trouble is, now that I'm 55 I'm "bumped up" to the next age group which sux, 'cause I am now "officially younger" than the others in my category of 55 - 59 yrs. "Bastards"!!

Whatever. Looking forward to what I accomplish. Only fear I have is when I'm sprinting a long distance my "gag reflex" kicks in?! Ok, pervs, stop right there....

Other than that, my daily 5-10 mi I HOPE, will carry me on this one. In the past I've enjoyed just running and finding the ladies with the nice derriers to follow. Sorry, what can I say?! ..m o t i v a t i o n.....

I think it'd be kickass to wear my shoes with the flames, but, they ARE TRULY a fashion statement only. They are hard to wear and almost impossible to climb stairs with the "Herman Munster" soles. Gotta love it!!! "Viv la'diffrenz"! (my French sux).

Looking forward to this afternoon's T'Dinner, too! I'll be spending it with Friends this year. Family situation dictates "awkwardness". But, that too shall pass and maybe in the future I can visit my children and let my grandkids sit on my lap while I relate the story of the, "World's Most UnFamous Artist" to them! "heh hehe"!

I am carrying two labels on my shirt while I run this morning (which by the way starts at 9am). One will be for my friend and neighbor, Jane who is fighting cancer right now. My thoughts and hopes are with her. She's a lovely lady! The other is something that has TRULY boggled my mind for years, GENOCIDE! Stop fu...ng GENOCIDE!!! It just PISSES ME OFF that in this "dayandage" Humankind, for the most part, turns their back on it! "WHY?!!" Why are families, mothers, children and husbands brutalized?!! It MUST stop!!! I have come upon a group (in Niles, no doubt) that works toward trying to maintain Peace and help families throughout the world to deal with the tragedies of such atrocities. I feel a need to help. Who knows?! I promise to help when my Art will allow me so. In the meatime I will try my best to help.

Like I mentioned before, my friends, listen to John Lennon's song, IMAGINE. He wrote the TRUTH. And as we all know, "The truth is...." well, you know.

I leave with one thing I need to say.

Seth, you've given your father the "much needed son to father" talk and your words helped. I am here for You now. The arms and love are here when you need them, Son. Your father will always have faith in you. Remember when I said the Chinese point of view for Chaos? "Crisis = Opportunity". It's helped me.

I love you.

Peace, Everyone! Happy Thanksgiving!

hmm...Karma?!

2008-11-25T07:16:00.003-06:00

Y'now, there are those times in my life, as well as other's, I'm sure, that "things" happen for a reason. As I grow older (not up!) I find myself drawn ever closer to that kind of thinking. For the past several months my life has been (In my eyes) tumultuous. However, IF I were to look at it in the perspective of CHAOS (as I explained the Chinese interpretation in an earlier blog) I see it as "a Journey".

My writings have drawn very few comments. That's fine. But, for me it has been "eye-opening" which is where I wanted it to go. I'm ranting, raving, crying, moaning,.. however, if one were to look beneath it all, it's been something most of us in our lives are afraid to do; "Put our head on the chopping block". Meaning, I am vulnerable to you all.

Back to where I was going. A journey. Up's and Down's are in everyone's life. At a time when I thought my life was ready to be exploited by "Me", well, it "bombed". Self-pity took over self-reliance. But, things have happened and have been since then. It was just a matter of time for me to see it through reflection.

Life is Wonderful!!! I have beautiful children who love me.

Grandchildren, well, they still think "gran'pa" is weird and kinda keep me at arm's length,..but, they love me!! They have to, I'm the personification of "Jimmy Buffett" and someday hope to take them to one of his concerts. Providing of course, he's still playing and I'm still drinkin' Tequila!

And then, I have the love and kindness of my friends.

Thank you ALL!!

Happy Holidays!!

Peace, my Dear Readers.

There are times when I can be sooo stoopid

2008-11-21T07:51:00.002-06:00

When I write these blogs, it's in my own self-interest. I really don't care if anybody reads them. It's just my "internal therapy" session with myself. I rant, rave, complain, bitch, moan and most of it comes across as self-pity, which it may be, or it may not.
It is the mission plan, so to speak, of my upcoming show in Downtown Niles. And yes, it will be a helluva show! 30 years in the making.
I started to tell about my life, growing up, influences in my life through the friends through years. Somehow, I side tracked and went back to my droll complaining. A.D.D.??! I hope not. I am easily distracted. Was that a bird?!
So, I have something to say. In my writings I tend to forget the human element out there. I tend to allow my thoughts to become muddled. And through my rants and raves I have hurt someone Personally. I didn't mean to, but I was checked on it! And it hurt me as well, because in reality this person really has been working with me, for me and has tried to help me establish myself within the community. And so, I say, "My apologies". The written word can be sinister when not dictated properly.
Please forgive my comment.
This town of "ours" has potential. It has opportunity. It has people diligently trying and unfortunately (myself included) those whom speak against it sometime. From hereforth, I will do my best efforts to try to help this community while I am here. I do hope that I can establish myself here. And I know where and whom to turn to when I decide.
Niles is my home. Has been for 55 years. It's still a place where one can look across the street and wave to a friend, a merchant, or people just walking down sidewalks will smile and say, hello.
You just have to say to yourself, "yes, it's possible".

Rocket Science

2008-11-12T01:26:00.004-06:00

Do you think?! that, the world's problems could be solved by someone who really doesn't give a crap!? Its 2:30 am and I just woke up (on the sofa mind you) took a couple X's so I might be able to go back to sleep. Seriously, does anyone really give a damn about tomorrow?! Save for the lot whom are presently "down on their luck".
If you want to see the "happy people" come to Niles. They're everywhere! Diggin' thru trashcans, roamin' the streets, chain smokin' like they've never heard the words; emphysema, lung cancer,...they're the "Happy People"! They live in a foster home, get an allowance and pack they're suitcases for a day "about town".
They...scare me. Sometimes I think, (Beach Boys tune here) "Wouldn't it be nice if we...." could just get a check for pretending we were incapable of maintaining our faculties in this modern day world??
Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed there are more of those little electric wheelchair mobiles around recently?! I think I see a growing population of them. Really! They're freakin' everywhere!! My thought on this; (I can already feel the "oh God. here he goes, from Barney) they have feigned a condition which makes it impossible to work; heresuit; a check in the mail,..disability,..or, the same which was preceeded by a revocation of their driver's license and they needed, no, Craved, mobility!
Really! What fool would drive a scooter, moped, or lawnmower in the middle of winter?! One without a license!!
By the way, my last blog said I was going to run 10,..did 12. Running at the Thanksgiving Day Run for the YMCA this month. Come and cheer me on. This will be the 1st time in my life I will actually compete for time. In the past, it's always been for fun, or checkin' out the "Babes" butts while running behind them. "Hey, I'm a Senior! I can do that!" "Harmless, right?!"
Age is a state of mind. For me, it's just another wrinkle.
So, my Dear Readers I leave you with this (and by all means I am not the Dalai Lama, or any bastion of Knowledge, or a Seer) when I turned 55 and I saw my life passing at 55mph before my eyes, it was then I decided, "What the f..., what do I have to lose?! I have always wanted to aspire to becoming a well-known Artist. Past few months I've been dilly-dallying around. However! I've been prepping. It's time. Time to show the World another Artist. It wasn't until recently that a close and dear friend of mine helped me with that relization; I can do Anything and I will. Besides, next week it might 15 miles, then my 30. If I never attempted, I never lived.
If I should die on the side of a road, just say, "well, his socks were clean."
Which reminds me, Dear Readers, do not grieve my passing when that day comes. Instead, give me the Biggest, Damned, Tiki Party ever! Promise me! And drink a shitload of Tequila in my honor. The Pirate will take a portion of my ashes and blast them from his cannon from a sailboat over Lake Michigan (I'd prefer the Caribbean, but we're a struggling lot right now, who knows?! Ol' Johnny Boy just might make his mark before that time and he'll be able to.
Anyway, 'nuff talk about that. Feel the X's kickin' in.
Good night my friends.
By the way, I have a request from all my readers. When Christmas approaches I would like it if (your choice) you would listen to two songs for me. They bring out the side in me that (hard to explain) has always been with me. I might appear as a coldhearted SOB to some. To others I'm a pushover, to those who know me,..I'm a lover of life and all humankind. Those two songs were written by the greatest poet of recent times and tragically taken away from us; John Lennon. Listen to; Imagine and So this Christmas (his christmas carol). If those songs don't make a tear come to yer eye, then you must think gas is a bargain at a $1.96 a gal.
I admit it. I cry everytime I hear the songs. They're painful. Human suffering is Bullshit! There is no need for it to happen.
Oh well, like I said, X's are kickin' in and I'm wandering.
Good night, Dear Readers.
Peace and Love

To the BatCave Robin!!

2008-11-04T18:21:00.005-06:00

Did I vote today? no. Why? Because I'm old enough to know better than to get mixed up in politics. I dunno. I'm sitting here in front of the TV watching the food network show a clip about a "Spam" contest in Austin, Tx. THAT makes sense!! I can tune in the Travel Channel and watch Andrew Zimmern slurp down Grubs and eat stuff from a goats ass. THAT makes sense! I have fervently been watching two BOZO's "bitch slap" one another and EACH has said the same thing their former running mates said four years ago,..eight years ago,..12,16,20,24,28......I not buying it.
Switching the scene here.
I read something from the internet yesterday that kind of told me that people are "really monkeys in bluejeans". Someone wrote that Nostradamus predicted this election. ....yep.
I have this theory. At one time in the far past Mars had a civilization that had flourished and then (as we face today) exhausted their planet's resources, depleted it's atmosphere and essentially, "screwed" themselves out of a home. So, they "eyeballed" our planet. It was nearby, had an atmoshere and probably, with some rearranging of either atmoshere, or alien genetics, they could repopulate. TA DA!!! Monkeys and Humankind! These Martians probably would've looked pretty hideous to us, but through genetic alterations they finally came up with a being that could inhabit this planet.
To me this explains a lot of missing links. 'Frinstance, Pyramids. They're ALL OVER the world, but none of the civilizations whom built were ever in contact with one another when they were built. Or, were they?! Let's look at the idea of Atlantis. It's belief and legend is worldwide. If we can believe in the bibilical Flood, Sodom and Gommorah, why can't we believe in other "non christian" ideas? The Pyramids are similar in design. Most used for the same Astronomical predictions and calculations. I dunno why the sacrifices came about, must of been hard living in those jungles....that're some King found out his daughter was banging the local cocoa bean picker and decided, "WE SHALL HAVE A PARTY!!!!!" "OUT WITH HIS HEART!!!" What was that guy thinkin'?!
The Nasca plains in Peru; from high in the air one can see huge animals, birds, insects and even something that looks like a landing strip! Why Not?! I ask. Why couldn't there have been a civilization from Mars that decided to populate this one. If they could travel space, they certainly could travel around our little planet.
I digress. To wrap life and civilization up in 5,000 years seems pretty ludicrous to me. To simply deny those ideas and have millions of worshippers believing some "dude" walked on water?!!! EH?!! Am I nuts?!

Ran 12 miles the other day. Not bad for an "old" dude. Poppycock", I say! Old is in the mind. How we approach our latter years is in our hands. Not some magazine, Guru, 20'sumthin bangin' Cougars,...

My friend said, "If women who chase younger men are called Cougars, why not men who chase younger women be called "Bears"? I like it! Then we thought, "Why would we want to pursue someone who gets their social studies from Cosmo Magazine and "The Rock of Love"? Not me. I need something else stimulated, also. My MIND. What's left of it.

Well, I tried to scramble everything in tonight's blog and believe I have done such. I have decided that my Art Show for next year will entail two days. In college I enjoyed "messin' with people's minds". Kinda like performance art. I have decided to "Rock this Town" before I leave it! Am I going to leave it?! Who knows. Right now I do know that Niles really is "Bedrock", as one of my dear friends says. And, the number of Cougars around here is beginning to increase. "Where the hell is Animal Control when you need them?!"

10 mile Homeboy

2008-11-01T05:23:00.002-05:00

Going to run 10, maybe 12 mi today. it's going to be a beautiful day and I want to get all the running in before winter hits. I sometimes run in the snow. Tough, but sometimes beautiful. I remember an evening I was running and came through the back portion of our golf course, here in Niles. The snow was deep, but soft which made the run arduous, yet easy enough. The thing that makes it memorable was while running, the snow concealed the sounds of my run. The snowfall (which was heavy) restricted my view somewhat. It also did the same to the herd of deer on the golf course which I found myself in the middle of. THAT WAS AN EXPERIENCE TO REMEMBER!! Not only myself, but the deer had the same expression. Wha?!!! The cold didn't give me goosebumps, just the Dudes with the racks. I think everybody kind of agreed that, "Okay, the little man couldn't see where he was going, just let him be on his way and everything will be cool!"

Thanks, deer Dudes!!! It was Awesome. I really hope it was sweat running down my running pants. ...never checked.

The above drawing is for my daughter, Audrey. She'd brought it up in conversation last week when we'd met for a drink to have a "Father, Daughter" time together. I love my kids! They're so cool! And each an Artist, themselves.

The drawing is just another way of looking at a bad situation. Mind you, I enjoy running when the cool weather comes. Roadkill in Summer?!! Dear GOD!! The smell!

I'm tired, now. 6;30. Think I'll turn on CNN and watch the latest update on the "horseandpony" show.

I'm going to write in PEE WEE HERMAN! He's the man!!!

God! I'm good!

2008-11-01T04:28:00.003-05:00

It' 5:30 and I'm awake and pouring through the piles of drawings and cartoons I've done through the years. Good therapy. I'm fu..... good! I'm tired of sitting on my ass and not doing sumthin with this stuff. It sux being an Artist. "Damned mood swings anyway!"

It's time, Dear Readers. Time for this one to blossom (not bloom, you pervs)!

It's time to introduce you to the Artist. The side that at one time used to get my buddy, "B-Guy" (whom, by the way, has the most incredible wit and sarcastic art I've seen) sent at LEAST once a month into the VP's office to either apologise, or be on probation for 90 days for artwork that shouldn't have been found on company premises. (man, that was one helluva sentence!)

OH! OH! Gotta tell ya! Quick note about "B-Guy"!! This man used to make the Art Dep't cry from laughter! Other times, red-faced. So, it was a summer day in the Art Dep't at North American Signs. We actually had an Art Dep't before they put us in cubes. Anyway, "B-Guy and Jim, the Art Director, had their drawing tables by the windows. Great view. Especially of the vista across the lawn of the McCormick factory. Windows were open to let fresh air and sunshine in. Just so happened there was a fellow entering the factory. He had to be at least 100-150 ft away. We're all drawing and toiling the time when all of a sudden "B-Guy" yells, "fu.. you" out the window. (how do you spell terrets? turetts?..doh! I dunno!)

Both Jim and myself were kind of mildly alarmed. Wasn't the first time he'd done something like that, or even bothered to question. It was just "B-Guy". The thing that made it more than a simple case of, "well, working on drawings all day can be boring", was when he'd yelled the expletive, the VP was entering the Art Dep't. I don't think there was enough room under my drawing table to hide and I remember both the shock on Jim's face and the "Oh, I am sooo screwed", look on ""B-Guy's" face. It was a three page, handwritten apology after that. I think it and some of our other antics was the implementation of the "fall of the Art Dep't". Those were the BEST times of any job I'd ever had! I miss them. We were by far, three of the most creative and most times, bored Artists any Art Dep't could have ever found.

This really wasn't supposed to be about "B-Guy", or the one time Art Dep't. Guess it ended up that way. It was an influence on my life. It was my intro into the Professional and Corporate world. It was a great time and a sad time. Sad, to see our Art Dep't shredded into little Cubes. Sad to see our Art Director shoved into a room all by himself and stripped of his title (he died shortly thereafter from cancer). Sad to see "B-Guy" placed in the basement away from what he enjoyed most; a window with light! Normal people can't really comprehend what that means to an Artist. I think.

Okay, so now I'm "knee deep" in this blog, so here's a quick one about Jim. He was the Art Director and the mentor for myself and "B-Guy". The man's talent was his "photographic memory". It was incredible the drawings he could render from everything he saw and lived. He would do drawings of his time he'd spent in Korea and Japan. To the detail of what some of the soldiers looked like to the detail of the machines and planes of that era. His other talent, which nurtured mine and "B-Guy's" was his ability for caricatures. We had a pile, 1,000's of drawings of almost every employee at the time. Some which would, of course, fall into wrong hands, mysteriously, (had to be an Expeditor). And once again, myself, or "B-Guy" would be reprimanded by the VP.

When Jim was hospitalized for his cancer he called for "B-Guy" and I to come visit. It was Jim's time to say goodbye to us. God, that was hard to take. For both of us. Jim was a man of true character. Good husband, father and a good Catholic! Of which he asked both "B-Guy" and me to destroy the cartoons of the employees we had created. That was tough! But, it was Jim's way of making sure his amends with his God would give hime the road to Heaven without that on his mind.

He was a good man. So, I guess this blog is dedicated to the two individuals that helped influence my life, helped nurture the cartoonist. We had fun!

spot on the collar

2008-10-29T06:21:00.003-05:00

I love that commercial. The one where the fellow is in an interview and the other man is listening to the SPOT on his shirt. Ain't it the truth?!
I sometimes wonder if the the theory is true that an oncoming train traveling over 60mph can create enough force in front of it that one is completely knocked unconcious before the impact. Whatabout jumping off a bridge?!!
Several years ago I had the unfortunate opportunity to view a newsreel of an attack against some villagers in one of those "poor little nations in Africa". The issue was Genocide. Now, can anyone out there describe to me his, or her thoughts on Genocide?!
As I watched this clip from the camera of of an English reporter I watched with amazed horror an attack on a woman on a street in public. She was brutalized and died slowly from a machette.
While I was in Nicaragua last year I was constantly reminded that that was the major killing device during their Rebel years. They wore them proudly as tools of course. The war was over. However, a machette is the viagra of the Nica people and they come in all sizes and shapes.
I had the honour of meeting a Nica warrior from the Revolution, Don Eloy. He was a little man, 75 yrs young with a 25 yr old mistress. Legend had it he killed over 45 men during those years. He brandished a machette that was nearly 3ft in length. And! I never wanted to piss him off. I could feel the legend was true.
Amazing.
Just thought I'd write something this morning. Trying to knock off some of the "blues" I'm feeling.

2008-10-27T07:33:00.004-05:00

Insanity seems to be two steps behind me.
At the end of each day I look back to see where my footprints are.
John L

Cheech & Chong

2008-10-19T09:10:00.003-05:00

I'm going to skip two people for this next blog, because I received a call from my friend (whom this blog is about) several days ago and was reminded of the impact and influence he had on my life as well.

I knew "KJ" prior to really meeting him. It was HSchool and we were a year apart. Somewhere ( I don't remember) we connected. To describe his character is something like, uh,..scrambled eggs with a side order of hash browns; It looks funky, but tastes damned good with a Hangover!

I am going to begin with this,; "If anyone reading this blog is not over the age of 21 don't read it. If you are too Pious in your life that your undergarments ride up your asscrack don't read this blog. If you are judgemental to the extreme that you think God is an excuse for mankind's woes and ills, don't read it. However! If you are open minded, forgiving, caring, understanding, free spirited and enjoy a good laugh,..com'n in!"

I really began to befriend KJ when we worked a summer at Simplicity Pattern, here in Niles. It was a factory. Probably one of the better factories a "college bound kid" could start from. I found him to be quite imposing at first; very opinionated, but with a degree of selflearned intelligence. He was in appearance, a "country-bumpkin", lanky, walked with that kinda half-shuffle, half "Im coming" attitude. Never in a hurry, never one to judge. I guess I liked him, because of his insight, his passion for what is right vs wrong, but most of all, his "free-spirit".

As I may have said in a past blog my parents were conservative, never allowed me to wear jeans until the day I graduated from HSchool upon which I bought a pair of Levi-buttonfly, hip huggin', bell-bottomed jeans and wore them to my graduation. Mind you, they were neatly pressed by my mother who was against the idea, but respected her son managed to graduate.

So, when I met KJ my style began to change with my philosphy on life. I owned slax and dress shirts (GONE!), my jean collection began to grow w/ the addition of "patches". Anybody remember patches on their jeans?

I began to evolve into my "Hippie" Era. Very much so. VietNam had ended and a new war was brewing inside our own country, a civil-war amongst the Races and the Hippies were at the forefront of Social Change.

It was a magical and frightening time. There were so many groups dedicated to this war that it would make one's head spin, especially our parents whom had just settled into their laid-back lifestyles from postwars (WW2, Korea, Nam). There were groups dedicated to change and peace. Black Panthers, Yippies, Hari-Krishnas (white people of all things, wealthy kids with nothing to do, turned beggars), the SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) they were as radical if not more than the Black Panthers (met a few of them, scared the b'jeezuz oughta me)! Jesus Freaks. Then there were the Hippies. My cup o' tea! We were for peace and love and music and,...Pot. Oh, boy! I never inhaled!!!

KJ was a Hippie and I joined the Cause. I really believed in the doctrine that all Men and Women should be treated as equals. Color was not in the formula! To this day my favorite song was written by the true Guru of Peace, John Lennon, "Imagine". If you haven't, listen to it. Honestly, dear Readers, I can cry when I listen to it. It's the deeper side of John Lidecker (Buffett is the brighter side). KJ and I went to rallies, concerts, meetings and tried our damnest to do whatever we could to help.

***I need to put this in even though KJ was not there; when VietNam fell there was the "Airlift". A mass exodus of Vietnamese were allowed to leave their homes and come to America and any other country that would take them in. They left in fear that their government would bring reciprocities against them for helping the Americans. In reality (why I rallied against the war, the Vietnamese people just wanted their OWN country back! They were tired of foreigners taking their country away from them and treating their people like crap! Read the true history. It became our war when the Frenchies got their asses massacred at Dien Bien Phu). I got to see a part of that history when my friend called me to take me to Chicago's OHare to see the planes coming in from the airlift. I was in awe. I saw people getting off the plane with expressions of emotion so varied it was unbeleivable. I saw families who had endured years of pain, death and fear whom left homes, jobs and families. They were penniless, scared, scarred and some couldn't speak english. But, they were safe and ready to start anew. One of the girls in our group began to cry, "fu..... great!" We all did! It was too moving for words and we said nothing to one another the entire trip back to Niles....sorry, I digressed. my bad!

Anyway, I left for IUSB to study Art. Started great! Tough, long hours, but the professors were intense! After a year I couldn't afford it anymore and needed options I could afford(as I said before, my father was not contributing for the education of "faggotry"). So, my second option was SMC, Southwestern Michigan College. It was perfect, really. The teachers were into what they were teaching, some of them inconspicuous hipppies themselves. The Art department was open for me! I was actually helping teach some of the students and working one-on-one with the teachers (they were learning from me and I from them). KJ was taking classes also at SMC. As the group the Eagles opens one of their songs with, "and here's where it all began...."

KJ and I were quite into our classes. The Hippie thing began to wear off. classes were long and we decided to share rides to the campus each day. But then, me, a kid growing up with so many restrictions brought on by an overdomineering mother, was easily influenced by the "counter-culture". Drugs, sex and RocknRoll. KJ and I were eager to join. Country Boys, you can't take their lassos off!

As I said before, if you are easily offended turn off the TV NOW!

KJ and I shared classes as I said before, so it only made sense for us to share rides. We worked our schedules out to where they were favorable to us. Influences began to creep in. The easiest was A L C O H O L. Even today, it's Michigan's largest industry. KJ and I began to use our lunch breaks with a burger and a beer at one of the local pubs in Dowagiac. After claasses we'd join the Art Dep't at another pub and drink into the wee hours. When yer in yer early 20's, yer Immortal.

Now, I will admit, "how childish, immature, irresponsible, etc." I could go on. But, I'm going to focus on the funny parts and overlook the missed opportunities had I really applied myself. Unfortunately for me, STOOPID is part of my chemistry. Would I change that part of my life if I had the chance?! yes. But, some things happen from irresponsiblity that make some people rich. Not me.

It was a winter morning and my turn to drive. Between KJ and myself we had 6-7 vehicles that if one wouldn't start, we'd take our plates and put on the other (back then we could get a "Beater" for less than a hundred bucks). I had a '66 VW that took an hour to heat up, thank God gas was 25cents a gal!! He called me at 6 am (our Psych class was at 8) said his father was called to work early and said he'd made breakfast. I drove over expecting eggs and coffee. Instead, he'd robbed the liquor cabinet and breakfast were two 16oz cocktails w/out the gravy! At 6:30 we were drinking breakfast. The snows outside were hard. Blizzard quality. But, country boys, DRUNK country boys were used to it. Off in my VW we went with said breafast in a thermos to keep it cold. We rounded a turn in the road, snow coming down so hard my windshield wipers were caked with it! As I entered the the second curve the VW kept going straight. In unison we both shouted, "OHSHIT!!" I floored the VW, snow was flying over the hood and visibility was, well, white. We were the first snowmobile out that morning with 4 tires and two drunk Hippies ready to piss our patched jeans (mine meticulously pressed by my mother the night before), and yes, we both lived with our parents at that time. The VW skated over the snow and back onto the road. I stopped the car and we both looked at each other in amazement...and had a stiff drink from the thermos. We got out of the car and looked at the path behind us. We'd traversed a two foot gauntlet of snow narrowly hitting a tree and some kinda farm implement and began laughing from the crazy experience. After cleaning the snow off the windshield and another swig from the thermos we continued our journey to Psych Class.

There has to be nothing more challenging in life than "reputation". Be it good, or bad, notoriety follows and sometimes a label. Fortunately, for KJ and I we wore it both ways. We were to our teachers an anomaly (we'd do the work, pass the tests, impress them with our views of society and social mores), to the students we were "Cheech & Chong" (I'll get back to that, but first). We entered our 8am Psych class at 8:40. Cold, wet from melting snow and...sorry to say, drunk. With the glare from the Professor we scurried clumsily to the back of the class. KJ, always one to be the center of attention rolled out of his chair, onto the floor. This of course brought a roar of laughter from the classroom, except the Prof. No, he was pissed. And rightly so. Two bumbling drunkards entering his class, he had all the right to have us expelled from class. Our saving grace? He liked us. Actually, I received A's from his class, because he enjoyed my arguments of social structures and systems with caste societies. I compared ours in a thesis to him which I think he enjoyed, but gave me a C, it scared him. Rocked his view of HIS world and glimpsed into the future of mine.

It seems KJ and I bonded for recreational purposes. Boys jus' wanna have fun! Immortal young men!!! Never hard drugs, recreational, but a lot of beer and wine. CHEEP wine! Which brings me to this episode. It was an early Spring day. Winter's intolerable cruelty had passed and leaves were coming back to embue the earth with it's majesty of "new life". ...?...did i just say that?! KJ and I took advantage of our hour break until our next class, Ceramics. Ceramics was cool. The teacher was a young woman who appreciated Avant Gard ideas. Needless to say some of the students were taking advantage of that to experiment fashioning inconspicuous "one hitters" and porcelain "Bongs". Anyway, KJ and I thought this day was to be celebrated by travelling the backroads of natures beauty. I had my VW with a sunroof which immediately was opened to massive rays of sunlight. However, something was missing..."Why, yes! A L C O H O L!" "To the liquor store, my trusty steed!" Whereupon we proceeded to purchase two bottles of Annie Green Springs finest!

Ahh! Backroads with the Allman Brothers blasting from the 8track and cheep wine. Ya, know, a sunroof in a Volkswagon is quite the item, especially when sitting atop the roof, steering with your feet (3rd gear is THE BEST!) drinking a tart, sweet beverage and soaking up the Spring sunshine. KJ says, "What you think? Another bottle?" ...Duh! Another trip to the proprietor of fine exquisite wines for less and we walk away with a bottle of Boone's Farm and, "Hey! Let's try this one." Manishevitz. Yes, dear Readers, this is why there is a Jewish Nation. To our chagrin we were late for class and drove immediately there to apologise and express our reasons for tardiness. We then excused ourselves back to the VW to finish our Manishevitz.

Ya, know. People put up with a lot of shit thinking, "Oh, that's just their Artistic side expressing itself." No, that's IRRESPONSIBILTY!!! That's two guys with too much time and no focus!! Even though I was getting straight A's in art and my German classes. I remember KJ and I walking back into the Ceramics class, stumbling really. KJ went somewhere and I wanted to work. I sat at the potter's wheel with a lump of clay. These were the kind you kick the wheel, no electricity. I threw my clay on the wheel and kicked furiously for the monetum to build. Let me add at this time that water is a necessary ingredient to "working" the clay. When I placed my hands on the dry lump I shot like a rocket to the floor! Immediately I sprang to my feet listening to the laughter of classmates and realized I needed to rid myself of the toxins in my body! I bolted for the door and ran outside for a spot to release the waters of evil. AH!! KJ!! He, too shared the same thought. As we lay prone several feet from the road, in sandburs wretching our guts out we were amazed at the purple colored liquid in the sand. After several minutes two classmates came to our rescue fearing a car might run over us and took us inside. I ran for the bathroom! As I curled against the cold porcelain bowl a classmate came in grabbed me by my hair (it was slightly longer than shoulder length and as he pulled my head back, "Manishevitz?!", he asked. "How did you know?!!" ....my white TShirt had a purple streak from my neck to my belt. To this day dear Readers, if it don't come from Napa, or a Michigan Winery, I don't drink it.

The Cheech & Chong act came about unexpectedly. KJ and I had began to mimick speaking like Chicanos before we ever heard of Cheech & Chong. It became a part of us I guess, because we were two unemployed, full time college boys with too much time. Our "act" so to speak even gave us an opportunity to join a comedy team, but were turned down when they asked us to cleanup the language a bit. ...no, that wouldn't be US. Buh-Bye Oppportunity.

KJ and I had met many people from different backgrounds, but one in particular was DAVE. Dave was a Thalydmide experiment. His mother took the drug in the 5o's that gave some women deformed babies. Dave had no legs (flippers) one arm with a thumb and two fingers and the other arm was a flipper. Dave could play guitar, piano and fly a plane. He could walk with a pair of prosthetic legs and had a mechanical arm that could crush anything in it's grip. He also had a sense of humor. As summer came about and we were on break from college, KJ, Dave, myself and another friend decided to go to Lk Michigan for the day. Of course, wine and beer was our picnic basket. Dave could walk upright, but not on sand. Discarding his mechanics he used his one arm to get himself to the beach. Quite a thing to see! He propelled himself in a fashion that resembled an ape. Anyway, several hours later we all awoke from our drunken stupor to return back to the car. Dave was incapable of moving across the sand so we placed him inside our blanket and dragged him. Dave has a sense of humor. Did I mention that before?! As we were about to crest a small dune there was a family coming over the top. Mom, Dad and two small children. I looked at Dave in the blanket and said, "Dave, play along!" As we were dragging the blanket with the unnoticeable lump inside I started yelling for help!! The family, curious as to my rantings and pleas came running toward us. At that point Dave rolled out of the blanket and started thrashing about in the sand! I said, "Something's in the water and attacked our friend!!" I swear there were several inches of air under everyone's feet in that family! I didn't realise the impact our joke would play. I hope counseling has helped that poor family.

There were many episodes I could write about KJ and myself, but it would make a small book and I'm not dedicating that much time to it. I will end this with the virtues of my relationship with KJ. Even though I spoke of alcohol ALOT there was something KJ had that astounds me to this day. His ability to see the future! Actually, it was foresight.

He once told me as we were standing line at a convenience store that someday in order to expedite "checkout" a laser scanner would do the work (we're talking early 70's dear Readers). He also said that money would become a thing of the past and we'd use cards, like credit cards. He was fearful and respecting of Big Brother. And he works with them to this day.

His imagination and zest for life, his sometime opinionated zeal, his creativity and ability to fix a car (very important when you're on a budget in college) earned my respect. His sometime harsh honesty, but love for his fellow being captivated and helped me understand another faction of this world of ours.

He once told me that at the moment of his death, right before breathed his last breath, he would concentrate on the Universe. He wanted to believe that he would be able to use his soul to explore the Universe looking for new planets and the possibility of life on other worlds. I find that very profound.

I hope your quest has not changed, my friend. We've been tempered by the years and I thank my lucky stars that I am now returning to my past to recapture that zest for living and my Art!

Thank you, KJ!

Working on it

2008-10-18T10:07:00.002-05:00

Ran 10 miles yesterday. Not bad for a 55 yr old dude w/ asthma, high blood pressure and a heart muu-muu.

Then I had planned on staying at home (yes, i still live there..) until my friend "Barney" called.

There went my 10 mi run.

Running is good for my soul. The freedom of locomotion. The weather of course, is changing, becoming cooler which affects my astma (must remember to get a new inhaler). This time of year however, the colors of the trees, the intense blue of the sky, it's awesome!. I run into the countryside. Sometimes where I grew up. Brings back memories.

Oh, well, just a short blog today, 'cause tonight I WILL write about the next influential person in my life. I am skipping two others momentarily, because my friend called me the other day "out of the blue". I was reminded of the times we had which I definitely have to write about.

If I have offended some of you with my postings, I apologise. I must say that there will be things in the future that I shall write which may become more offensive to some. To that I say, "turn off the TV". This blogsite is my story, my life. It's an interpretaion of the World's most "Unfamous" Artist. It is an epitaph to my life and in turn I read it myself to figure out what the heck, and where do I go from here?! It is a "Chronological History of the Artist". Should I die tomorrow not having completed my works of art, this blogsite will explain how one person at least tried (late in life) to fullfil his dreams, desires and passions and the most definite reasons why some of it did not culminate.

It is the other side of John Lidecker that most of you never met. I'm the "fun guy", the "drunken sot artist", the "push-over"....I could go on, that most of you know. There are the few that know the other side, the serious, the knowledge seeking, the naive, the passionate.

So, it is with this blogsite that I tell my story of my life. As I said in an earlier blog, to quote one of my favourite musicians, "Some of it's tragic, most of it magic..."

Peace.

If I were President

2008-10-17T01:05:00.002-05:00

IF I WERE PREZ, I'D;

MAKE XANAX A NAT'L SOFT DRINK

I'D HAVE CHIMPANZEES SHIT ON MY LAWN

I'D HAVE SEX WITH A BLOWUP DOLL AND TELL HER "YES, IT WAS GOOD!"

I'D MOVE

I'D TRY TO THINK OF ALL THE WOMEN I'VE WANTED TO HAVE SEX WITH

I'D DRINK MORE SOY MILK

I'D KILL THE SOYCOW

I'D MAKE THE NAT'L DEBT DISAPPEAR LIKE DUST OUT MY ASS

(then I'd take residuals and buy an island off the the coast of Shiitscreaminoutmyasshole)

I'D SCREW THE V-PREZ IF SHE HAD A BEAVER (then brag)

I'D BUY A PIECE OF SHIT REALESTATE IN A TRAILER PARK IN NILES

I'D GOLF ALLLLLLLLLLLLLL DAY

I'D BUY MY GRAND KIDS A MERCEDES w/ A DRIVER

I'D ALSO TELL THEM IT WAS, "short term".

I'D SPEND THE DAY WITH MY BEST FRIENDS

I'D SHOW EVERYONE MY PIERCED NIPPLE AND BE PROUD

I'D GO TO THE UN AND TELL EVERYONE THAT "XANAX" IS NOW A WORLDWIDE SOFTDRINK

I'D RESSURECT MY PARENTS FROM THE DEAD SO THEY COULD SEE FOR THEMSELVES

I'D MAX MY CREDIT CARDS

I'D EAT A TWOlb STEAK

I'D VISIT SOMEONE ON DEATH ROW

I'D FIND OUT WHY WE DON'T HAVE A CURE FOR CANCER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'D FIND OUT WHY SOMEONE, OR SOMETHING DOESN'T LET US HAVE THAT CURE!

I'D TRACK THEM DOWN AND SUE THEM AND THEIR OFFSPRING FOR THE NXT 30GEN

I'D GET RID OF NURSING HOMES AND TELL THE KIDS TO BE RESPONSIBLE

I'D TELL MY SONS, "I LOVE YOU" MORE THAN I PRESENTLY DO

I'D TELL THE WORLD, "WE AIN'T RESPONSIBLE FO' YO' ASS ANYMORE!"

but we know, that ain't gonna happn.

Peace!

Close Encounters of the Weird Kind

2008-10-12T17:11:00.003-05:00

Ya know, basically, I had a good childhood. I had an overwhelming mother, but I assume it was due to my health issues as a child. It sucked having Asthma, it sucked being anemic, it sucked having ear infections that persisted a good portion of my young life.

So, when I wanted to do something with friends there were always restrictions. That's why I loved jumping into bales of hay and running free in the midwestern countryside wheezing and gasping for air. Ah, sweet freedom!

It was a magical period of life. Exploring woods, shooting BB guns, hell!, shooting shotguns with magnum shells that could knock a kid on his ass.

Living in the country was great, but limited to how many friends one could have depending on your geo'locale.

I guess that's when I started to foster my creative side which had an impact on how I would later choose my friends.

I met "D" in our home room in middle school. He was to say the least, weird. He was totally into something else of a more intellectual level. Of course, he and I and Lawrence were all three "different". Each complimenting the other.

It wasn't until my HSchool years that our friendship actually bonded and we became our "own clique".

"D" was interested in the sciences, Lawrence in electricity, me, well, insurance. The kind of insurance a small skinny kid in HS needs, basically, big friends. Trust me HS was one place I did not want to be. There were the Jocks that enjoyed the torment. I remember many a trash can and locker and toilet. It's kinda good to know that I can outrun most of them today at 55.

Back to "D"...

We "hung out" as a group. There were quite a few of us "misfits" that felt easy in the company of one another.

As I mentioned in my blog of Lawrence, it was "D" who was the "brainiac" in our little rock band. It was "D" who came up with the name of our band The Pyloric Valves. It was "D" who named the song Intestinal Trek. And it was "D" who saw our band going nowhere. We had fun, but sisters don't make good groupies.

After graduation "D" and I lost touch, but still mantained a friendship. It was 1971, Nam was in the picture, social movements were the issues and there was the infamous, "Jesus Freak" train which "D" got on board.

Mind you, I'm not of any denomination and don't wish to be, I figure we all die the same and whatever happens, happens. My epitaph will read; "Don't know where I came from, don't know where I'm going". I'm not opposed to religion and I try to think of myself as a "spiritual" kinda guy in the sense that I believe life is more special, mysterious and multidimensional than any words, or thoughts could ever concieve. If I don't know, who should know better?!! Eh?

"D" joined the masses and started his church. It almost seemed he had changed overnight from the "arguing against the existence of God" to the complete opposite. And I have to say (sorry "D") it was unbearable. He was constantly trying to get me to join. The harder he tried the more I avoided him.

So, you're probably wanting to know how he was one of the influences in my life?!

He piqued MY intelectual side. He was and is without a doubt one of the few people in my life that knows something about everything. I kid you not. "D" is one of those individuals who constantly asks questions. Never afraid to delve into areas of the mind, sciences, life, etc.

The other redeeming quality about him is his giving nature and his concern for his friends and family.

He has tempered from the years. His mind is still asking questions and his faith guides his path in life. To this day we remain best of friends and regard each other with the respect of brothers.

I enjoy the conversations I can have with he and a few that I can't with others (no disrespect intended). We don't talk politics, but we talk science, the arts and issues more closely related to the human species than a couple "puppet" politicians could muster.

And I can say he cooks a "good" steak.

It is nice to grow older with good friends in which life is momentarily comfortable with a good single malt scotch and a good cigar.

Now that's livin'!!!

Take care my friend. We'll see each other soon.

Love Ya!

Bitch Session #23A

2008-10-12T12:01:00.007-05:00

Just got back from my run. tomorrow it's a visit with my new best friend The Cardiologist. I won't stop running. I've been running for 40 of my 55 years. I think it's what has helped me through times when rough sailing made the waves crash over my bow.

It's also when I take time to think. It's My Time.

I reflect about my future, present and past.

The past is what it is.

The present is, well, my bad, Limbo.

And the future is,..uncertain.

There are things I want to do and I'm not doing them!

I know what it is and it's my fault.

My Art is what is most important to me right now and it's NOT happening.

My mother told me some years back of an opportunity my father had when he was employed by Bendix Corporation in So. Bend, In.

Seems he was a fledgling engineer with something most employees there at the time lacked a bit of; common sense married with creativity.

As my mother put it the company saw potential in my father, so much so they offered him a position at their facility in Brasil. No, not Brazil, Indiana, Brasil, So. America.

Villa, servants, private schools,..............

My mother?? "I'm not moving where there's snakes and Indians." True to her southern roots.

So, opportunity was there and my father gave it up for family and his wife. I'm shaking my head right now.

So, here I am at 55 years of age running my ass off (literally my pants sag, OH God!!) and trying to obtain my Opportunity. I know what my friend Barney is saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, quit'cher bitchin'." He's right.

Beautiful day today. Leaves are turning. Great for running.

Tonite, I'll introduce you, dear readers, to my 3rd influence.

Sorry, just had to vent. Beats painting graffiti on walls.

Is it me?

2008-10-11T09:34:00.003-05:00

Some things in life are truly awe inspiring. For instance, watching a cool sunset, walks in the park, cruisin; in my ride....oh, god, I've got to cut back on the Mc Donalds double cheeseburger, the hormone injected beef is taking effect.
What is really awesome and perplexing at the same time is, rather, are cords, hoses, ropes and anything else that falls into that category of "what the f...?!"
It's like. I dunno know, "I rolled it up; I wrapped the cord back on the sweeper; I put the hoses back on the hose rack..."
But, here's the situation.
I get the cord out, or the hose and there's a knot. A KNOT!! HOW?!!! And, if you start to untangle rope,..well, there's more knots!!
I don't get it.
By the way, crude oil is down to $77 a barrel. That's $60 down from two months ago. And people are flocking to the pumps again!!
"WOW! $3 a gal!"
must be the knots.........

By the way, I'll be writing about another person tomorrow. gotta build some signs today.

Okay. This has got to stop!!!!

2008-10-07T19:37:00.005-05:00

Dear Readers,

whatever happened to good ol' common sense and responsibility?! hmmmn? I can't figure it out anymore. Case in point; as I was doing my daily run I crossed Main St Bridge in town (Niles). Okay. I have mentioned to others around town about the tree growing "out of the bridge". View the pic. However, this evening as I was running across the bridge, bemused by the tree, I noticed..."AhHa!! What is this?!" ....no, "What is THAT?!!!" Immediately I curled into a fetal position holding my stomach and convulsing in a bastion of laughter!! "This is it!! Enough!! I must call someone...hmm, who else would appreciate this degradation to our humble bridge?" "Ah, my friend Todd Keller!" "We share a common bond of the mundane."

A cellphone is an incredible device. I remember as a kid we only had "makebelieve" toys that didn't EVEN COME CLOSE to our modern day toys!!

I called Todd and he came immediately to the bridge. "Yep, that's a trowel (what he called it eludes me momentarily, but he described it as such). They use them for smoothing concrete".

Alright. Somebody just tell me why an IDIOT is working on a bridge? An IDIOT so stoopid as to leave his trowel embedded in the concrete wall of a bridge?!! Evidently he wasn't hired for his workmanship. Could it be?!! Maybe he was hired, because the person whom contracted the crew to repair the bridge did what??!! HIRED THE LOWEST BIDDER!!!YES!! Somebody give me a Star to put on my fridge!! "I feel giddy". not like that, you dolts!

Can somebody respond and tell me What is Happening? Pleez??

By the way, should you wish to respond to these blogs and seem unable to..email me. lidecker@aol.com

SEE YA!!?

Maybe he should've buried it deeper so the concrete wouldn't have POPPED off like that. Naw, what the hell. If you're a moron there's no other way to screwup!!! You Rock, Moron Dude!!!

Adam Bomb aka: Lawrence of A'Maniac

2008-10-06T17:46:00.006-05:00

I have to say without a doubt, my life has been a most interesting one. But, if it were not for the company I seek and hang with,...well, just shoot me, 'cause it would've been mundane. There're a lot more crazies out there to hang with, too.

It was the late 60's when I met him. We shared the same home room in High School. As I said in my previous blog bein' a country kid was tough. And those of you who are from Niles might think otherwise, or not. So, what does one do?! Look for someone to be your friend RIGHT AWAY!!!

I noticed immediately there was something different about him. It was the way he looked at me. No. His eyes weren't fluttering....pervs. It was, well, one eye would look at you and the other, well, it was looking a little left of you. I knew right away I needed to be his friend.

You see, I just didn't "fit in" with the rest of the kids. I wasn't a jock. We certainly were not a family of wealth and...I just couldn't accept the fact that life had to follow a certain path. I dunno how to splain. Back then most of my friends had graduated to a level of "strangeness". I needed that.

So, here was Lawrence. Different and totally insane. F'rinstance. His father owned a 53' 4 wheeled barge that sucked about 7 miles to the gallon. Course, back then gas was less than 25cents a gallon. Can you imagine?!! Anyway, that 53' could travel a 100 miles an hour and you felt like you were riding on a cloud. It became a totally different thing however, when "L" would let go of the steering wheel and just recline. WE WERE 16 YEARS OLD!!! Stoopidity is not part of the visage of Immortality.

But, that wasn't enough; "L" would make me drive das boot and at 100 mph he would climb out the window and stand on the hood of the car! In winter it became our snowplow. Blizzards were "our cup 'o tea". We'd tie a sled to a rope and the bumper of the 53' and cruise backroads. I remember travelling down a country road one night (yes, night. it was against the law......shhh) and "L" had the wheel to the barge. We were going about 65mph (we would call out the speed to let you know how fast you were travelling before you crashed and burned) when all of a sudden the snowpacked road turned to bumpy ice. I remember trying yell, stop, but the impact of my back to the rutted ice made me sound like I was huffing Helium. "L" of course didn't realise I had fallen off the sled until it overtook him on a turn and noticed "it" was solo.

When he returned I tried to mouth a few words, the impact had not only knocked my breath away, but also knocked one of my boots off. But, that wasn't the only thing. A dog had come from a nearby farm to checkout the commotion. After licking my face with globs of dogglop he'd noticed the lone boot. "AHA!" "PLAYTOY!!!!" Bye boot.

Anyway, daredevil escapades gave way to night trips. I mean, like "L" would knock on my bedroom window at midnight and say, "C'mon!" And we'd cruise. There was one particular night however that left an impression on me I can still remember as clearly as the weekend it happened.

"L" came over at midnight on a Friday...same o', same o'. So I thought. But this time there was something different. Something different about him. We didn't talk much, but we drove into the night. Little did I know things were going to happen in such a fashion that it changed my perspective on life and it's fragility. We drove, my friends. We drove. By the time we'd stopped we were in Detroit's Metro Airport. It was mid morning and "L" had this look of charged energy that I'd never noticed. And then the PA in the airport paged Ike and Tina Turner. That wasn't all of it though! As we raced with the crowds I accidentally ran into someone while looking elsewhere. As I stopped to apologise I noticed the man with long hair and dark sunglasses looked familiar. He said" Sorry, my fault." "L" just stood there, jaw open, not able to speak. It was Jim Morrison. Yes, people, I ran (literally) into a Door!!!!! "L" was mesmerized. I was like, "who?!" (My parents were very conservative. Lawrence Welk was on the TV).

We left Detroit Metro and continued east. I never questioned "L", or his motives. Heck, after that what else could happen? Something else did, though. We crossed into Canada after losing our way through Detroit. Followed the coastline of Lake Erie into the night until we could no longer stay awake. I remember Point Pelee, the sign said. We parked and fell into a deep sleep.

The rap on the window scared the crap out of both of us! A Mountie. He said the park was closed, but would give us break for the night. Good dude.

I woke the next morning and "L" was not in the car. I got out and walked down to the beach of Lake Erie. He was standing there looking into the distance, the American side of the Lake. I then knew why we'd come this far. The horizon was a dark cloud. Not a thundercloud, but one of smoke. The Lake caught fire that year and we were there to see it burn.

Our senior year in high school was just as fun and maniacal as the years before. As with most young people back then we'd concocted this idea we wanted to be Rock Stars. Our group was comprised of 3 of us and our band name after much thought and the third member being the "brainiac" he was and is, named us, The Pyloric Valves. Look it up in your medical dictionaries. I'm going to let you do some of the work here, too.

After being shot down for so many auditions we finally called it quits. We did manage to copyright a song which is probably in some dusty, dank shelf in the copyright office. It was called "Intestinal trek". that should give you a clue to the band name.

Graduation gave way to summer jobs and college. I on the other hand had to work longer and save for my entire tuition, because my father didn't want to pay for an Artist in the family. (Artists are fags). Thanks Dad!

"L" went to one of the local colleges and then to Western Michigan Univ. I enjoyed going up on the weekends to visit with, because I could was able to sit in with him on his midnight shows. "L" was a campus DJ with the radio name....Adam Bomb! It was awesome! Chicks were calling, people were buying us pizzas, he was a celebrity on campus.

But the candle began to burn out. "L's" girlfriend ran off with the Domino's Pizza guy and he went into a spiral of depression. I remember our last night together before he left. We'd been partying into the wee hours and he was giving me a ride home. I kinda dozed off for a moment and then was startled awake by crashing noises. "L" was travelling over 120mph and running into mailboxes!!! "Shit, Man! I don't want to die with you!" I said.

A month later I received a postcard from him. He'd travelled to Arizona and stayed with some relatives then headed to Texas. His car was nearly swallowed by the Gulf of Mexico as he sat alone on a beach. He'd noticed the tide rising and decided to move his car. Had it not been for the Texan with the four wheel drive it no doubt would become a shallow reef.

Years passed and the letters grew thin. I caught the occassional window washer for skyscrapers in downtown Houston. The microwave tower repairman for the "Free Cuba"radio stations. And then silence. For nearly 20 years.

As I was sitting at home one night early this summer the phone rang. Lisa, my wife answered and then handed the headset to me. It was "L". And he was in the area. He'd left Houston to come home and get a job. I was excited to see him! We could catch up on ol' times......

When I saw him I hugged him. But, I was shocked to see he had fallen victim to hard times. REAL HARD times. He was homeless, penniless, jobless. It hurt to see him that way. There was nothing I could to do help. Money, was short-term. He needed a job. But, as I told him, "We're too old, man!" "The job market wants young people, not 50 somethings." He wouldn't accept it. At least until he was beaten by the odds and the hard truth. I told him he had to find the strength inside to do it alone. And it is "alone", my friends. In the past 5 years I have submitted online and in person over 1,000 applications! Seriously, it's freakin' scary!!! Had I known what was in store for me earlier (before the "you gotta go" thing) I would've accepted several positions that were offered to me. But, that meant moving and the wife, she "wasn't leaving her job". Can't say as I blame her. At the time I stayed for family...........................whatever....

Back to "L".

He was gone toward the end of the summer. Tired of living in run down hotel rooms and tired of begging for money for food and gas. A month ago I received a postcard of Colorado on it. He was in Idaho (I know, Colo., Idaho...he's just that way). He, too, has a blogsite and it reminds me of the friend I knew a long time ago. Talent! He's crazy in a very talented way. I'll give the blogsite after this summary.

"L" was definitey an impact in my life. Maybe he was the one who opened that door to "mayhem" and shoved me in.

his blog: wakinguphorny.blogspot.com

It's funny, sad but creative.

I hope all is well with you my friend. I wish it was different and I miss you.

We had a helluva ride!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In The Beginning

2008-10-04T14:11:00.003-05:00

I grew up in the countryside north of Niles, Michigan. I have to say it was wonderful to be able to move about so freely in the fields and woods, pastures and skinny-dipping in the farmers irrigation ponds.
I attended a "country school". It was first to sixth grades and some of my most memorable times came about because of some of the teachers and especially the students.
I moved to that school starting the third grade. I was an outsider. We moved from a lakeside community outside of Niles into a country home. Being an outsider proved to be a challenge.
My first day I was beaten by two boys from the demands of a girl whom I didn't even know.
It was tough at first. Tough, because I had a lot of odds against me. The two worst; I was the smallest boy in my grade and I had asthma. For anybody out there who grew up without the convenience of an inhaler, you can understand. I lived with death at my door practically every time I had a bout. Back then the Doc gave us pills. But then you had to wait for the pills to take effect which could be up to 20min, or more.
No fun at all.
But, it was also when I met my new "best friend". I will call him Sgt. Rock for the sake of anonimity.
He lived on a farm with a 40 acre playground! It was AWESOME!! At the age of 8 I learned to drive a tractor, shoot guns and play in haystacks. The haystacks nearly killed me when I found out they could trigger an asthma attack. Much to my parents disagreement I did it anyway.
They had cows. I ate fresh butter and fresh milk. I ate fresh beef and vegetables and eggs....JEEZUZ!! What happened?! My kids have NO idea of what that tastes like.
Sgt. Rock was a free spirit. The countryside festered that in most.
Also, living in the country breeds a lot of imagination for a child. Basically, there's not much to do and your closest friend might live several miles away.
Sgt. Rock was a leader. He was no doubt the biggest influence in my life at that time.
As kids growing up in the 60's we were curious about the state of affairs happening in the world. The cold War gave us goosebumps. And yes, I do remember preparing for a nuclear attack meant crawling under your desk at school. It was also the time of the "Cultural Revolution". But, as country kids we came from some very conservative, yet understanding parents.
The Sgt. saw this as a time to be creative. Easy Rider was in the theatres and Hells Angels were the Rebels of the times. So, what do a group of boys with bicycles with banana seats, high rise handlebars and "sissybars" do?!! They form their own "motorcycle gang" (we had to make the sounds for the bikes though). As I said, the Sgt. was a free spirit and also the Leader of our pack. We wanted to be like the Hell's Angels; rebels, free-spirited and ready to go to VietNam to "kick sum ass"!
We had a pack of about 7 kids. In our minds we were the toughest SOB's on the planet! Except for the time the Sgt. ramped his bike into the air which looked REALLY cool until he came back to earth the wrong way! Yes, my friends, the Sgt. was cryin' like a baby After he caught his breath, After he barred his Balls on the bike. We ROCKED!!!
I can't remember the name of our gang, but we had Colors. We decorated our vests with MC WHATEVER it was....
But you know, some parents can be cruel without realizing what they do to their children's mental growth at times. You see, dear Readers, I had the misfortune of growing up in a household where Levi's were considered to be worn by Hoodlums and thieves. I don't get it. My mother came from the hills of Tennessee and I know they wore BIBS to farm in!!!
But! Not me! No denim, no Levi's.
But, I did make my vest AND with our patches with the MC What....... Boy, did I piss my mother off when she found out I took my plaid bathrobe, cut it up and made my vest from it. And you want to know something?! my biker friends kinda snickered at first, but it was still kinda cool. We ROCKED!!
The Sgt. was like a brother to me back then. I almost lived on his farm in the summertime, fall, winter and spring. We were inseperable,..until, we finished sixth grade and had to attend school in the city. Niles back in those days was a bustling community. A lot of industry. It also had the "city kids" whom disliked us "country kids". It also segregated "US". Not only my best friend, but all of us who left that country school. It was devastating for some of us. Some handled it well. Myself, I liked it in a way, because I always thought the city was fun. There was so much more to do.
However, the Sgt. didn't adjust. Being the "free spirit" he was proved to be his eventual downfall and "dropping out" of school. He was very "outspoken".
We lost track for years. Occassionally, I'd see him, but it wasn't the same. We were growing into young men and VietNam was no longer cool.
And then, one day I received a letter. The Sgt. decided to join the Army and was shipping out. He'd had enough of the BS life was throwing at him. I think it was the anger (maybe) of not being able to conform to a world with too many options.
I got letters of him from around the world. Germany, Japan, South Korea.
And then, he had to come home briefly. His mother died of cancer. We had a wake at the farm in her honor. The Sgt. and I reminiced over old times and we shared the grief of his loss. A moment had passed and the Sgt. turned and started to walk away into a newly plowed cornfield. I let him go thinking he needed a moment. But he returned with this smile on his face that I hadn't seen since we were kids, "country kids". I noticed he had a cord in his hand and as I was about to ask, he said, " This is for Ma, John." And he pulled the cord.
THE CORD was a cable about 150 feet long which was attached to an object I could barely see (it was dusk) out in the cornfield. ***Let me set the scene before I continue. There were quite a few people at the wake. His mother was loved by anyone who came into her kitchen. There were families with small children running through the yard and the barn, by the chicken coop...it was quite the affair.
Now, back to The Cord....
As the cord became taut a brilliant flash of light burst from the field. No, let me say,..an explosion came out of the field with an intense flash of light, a loud boom and then,..the shockwave! Yes, shockwave. Needless to say that not only the Sgt and I were knocked to our asses, but children were strewn about, tumbling on the ground and running in all directions!
After the first few moments of shock we returned to our feet with ringing in our ears and the increasing volume of children crying in terror. I looked at the Sgt and said, "HOW THE F... DID YOU GET THAT?!!" And then we both began laughing so hard we cried. And we cried for Ma.
The Sgt left the following day only to learn he was being stationed at Fort Riley. He had orders to leave for Kuwait (the first assault on Hussein). The Sgt was anxious, it was his moment. He was a tank commander for the Big Red One, the first ground assault unit to move into Kuwait. In one of his letters after the attack he wrote, it was over in a matter of hours with Iraqi's surrendering and crying with relief that the Americans were there to save them!
The Sgt was proud, but never boastful.
When he returned stateside I flew out to Kansas to see him and his wife. It was a 3 day drunk.
One night I woke to go to the bathroom to rid myself of the gallons of Budweiser we'd consumed that day. As I was trying to find the light I stumbled over something on the floor. I found the switch...and the Sgt.,....lying on the floor with his underwear around his knees and his cat sleeping on his back. As I tried to lift him up he said, "hmm, thought I was back in the desert." I never asked.
About a year later I got a phone call from the Sgt. He was being "retired" by the Army. It was devasting to him. It was his life. It was Clinton's plan to reduce spending.
It's been some years and we've lost touch as all good friends do. The last I heard he was living in N.Carolina with his wife enjoying what they could of the "goodlife" (he built a Kegerator by the pool). But I know that's not the way he wanted retirement. Not Sgt. Rock. He was a formidable man. The Army gleaned, trained and created a machine capable of handling a battalion of men ready to give their lives for their country as well as him. He was, as some men say, "built like a brick shithouse" and was bred to be a leader. A leader of Soldiers.
So, in retrospect, I salute you, Sgt. We played "army" as kids, but you lived it!
I thank the powers that be I had an opportunity to be your friend in this lifetime.

I'm carrying that tune of "Born to be Wild" in my head right now.....I really wish my parents would've allowed me to wear a denim vest.

Saturday Morning Hangover

2008-10-04T08:08:00.003-05:00

I know, I promised to start my "friends List" last night. Had a end of the season TIKI party at the Pirate's Tiki Bar.

Feeling a little ruff. Need coffee.

I'll start my list today. Still trying to figure this site out to better navigate.

For now, however, it is time to grind the beans!!!

friday am

2008-10-03T06:04:00.003-05:00

I smell the coffee brewing. I'm glad I take the time in my life to enjoy fresh ground coffee. Nothing like it. Kinda like the Japanese and their gardens,...yep. Nothin' like "grinding yer beans" in the morning.

As said, my altruistic, speculative Readers, i shall begin a new post tonight with the description of a friend. And as stated before, their virtues shall be listed along with "why they are my friend".

Ta Ta's!

ps: should anyone wish to comment on any of the posts, feel free. I am looking for input. If you are experiencing problems doing so, forgive me. I'll try to find a solution to the problem.

gottagetmovin

2008-10-01T07:19:00.006-05:00

Greetings, Readers!
Ahh, Wednesdays! Beautiful Wednesdays. "Humpdays" as they are socalled for the middle of the week. And as usual the weekly "BeerMeDonna" night at the Nuggett Downtown Grill. $2 dollar imports! Can't beat that with a foreskin.
So, received a letter in the mail yesterday; "sameoldsameold" song and dance. I applied for a position at Southwestern Michigan College as a Graphic Designer. Once again, DENIED! Position is filled! Didn't even get an interview! Damned MAC user's!!! Burn them!!!
Whatever. Still working on my show for early spring 2009. Everyone must attend. I GUARANTEE it will be an event to inspire!
Well, I want to increase my BLOG site readers and here is what I plan.
At least once every other blog will feature a friend in my life. I will not mention their name for the sake of annonimity, but some might recognise them by what I will write. I will write only of their virtues (ahem...some might need more work) and their inspiration they have given to me. I thought about doing this alphabetically, but, that ain' gonna work, because I might forget someone in passing.
So, my friends, stay tuned and pass my blogsite along to others, because it's gonna be, well, interesting, sad, funny, beautiful, inspiring....I digress.
They are my heroes and before I die I want the world to know they exist! They are true friends in the fact they ask nothing of anybody, but would give the world to anybody. Can't beat that, even in a beer contest!
I will enter the first (FRIEND) as I will address them, this Friday night. I might use a nickname, or I might chose one. However, I will only speak of their virtues as I mentioned and some I will speak of the adventures we have shared.
So, as I said, pass this blog along to others, You might be mentioned. Who Knows?!!
Too, I will be starting a website soon to offer a preview of my art work. Some of it is still in process for the show next year.
It's been quite a journey since July 5th this year! I thank my friends for holding my hand through the worst of it. That is why I have decided to write about them and the others I have met in my life.
I will mention at times, my children. They are the reason I cling to this existence and give me the strength to push forward toward my lifelong goal as the "World's Most Unfamous Artist".
Stay tuned dear Readers.
Peace!
ps: If you should happen to not be mentioned, or fear that I will forget you, please comment to this blogsite.

can't sleep

2008-09-26T00:19:00.002-05:00

It's 1:30 am and I can't sleep. I've always been somewhat of an insomniac. However, tonight I watched a couple movies on the DVD player that kept me up.
The first was about a mute played by the dude in Fargo with the big ears. He was a superintendent for an apartment complex in NY. I'll cut to the chase...He was trying to obtain custody of a young girl whose mother OD'd and had the most horrible luck trying to do so. He was taken aback by several pitfalls and was ready to give. However, it being Christmas and all that, he went into a church and cried. It was a profound scene which I'll come back to. The story ends with a happy note. He gets custody of the girl through the help of his father and stepmom. Going back to the church...Mind you, I am by no means a religious man, but I do believe in a soul. Be it that soul may become "one with the universe" when we die,..well, I'm not up for theological argument right now. What captivated me was the torment this person suffered throughout his life and the mere fact that he was ready to give up, because the odds were stacked against him, and he wept.
Forgive me for this dear readers, but I did too. I felt his anguish, frustration, etc.
There have been times when I felt life was totally out of control, MY control. But, I have the love of friends and family. This thing happening in my life right now is a CRISIS, As I mentioned earlier though, the Chinese see it as Trouble with Oppportunity. I am now in a mad rush to pursue my goals, my art, which is the passion that has driven me to do some great things with my art and then some pretty crazy things with my life. And usually I ended up getting kicked in the balls for it later. But, that's life.
The second movie I watched involved this young man with an incurable disease whom had weeks to live and sets out on a road trip to try to find a girl he knew in the 6th grade. He had fallen in love with her then, but they became seperated thereafter. So, he's on a quest until finally he finds her working in a carnival in Florida and dies on her sofa..... I dunno, but it was a good movie just the same, "The Zeroes" was the name.
So, now I can't sleep. So, I write.
Did go for a run with the new nipple piercing this afternoon. Didn't hurt, but reminded me it was there.
Life is "a trial" isn't it? For some it comes easy for others it is hard and painful. I remember when I was in Nicaragua last year and as we were driving through Managua I saw a little girl begging for money in a boulevard. She couldn't have been more than four years old. I wanted help her, but couldn't. People are poor down there. We are fortunate. I am fortunate. I have a wonderful family and wonderful friends.
And I've had a wild and crazy journey the past few months. If it weren't for my friends I think I'd be, well,..more sober?!!! Thanks for taking my TIKI bar Pirate! WE've had more fun in his living room than I did with the bar in my backyard. But, what happens at the TIKI bar, stays at the Tiki bar!!
WE're crazy! But, we love living!
Well, guess I'll turn on CNN and see what masterplan has been devised to rid this country of debt.

I must be Krazy

2008-09-25T10:00:00.004-05:00

Well, I did it. Got my nipple (just one) pierced. Yes. It hurt like heck, but just for a second as the barbell went in.
I've decided that people make opinions through fear, or fear of the unknown. Most would say, "I'd never do that."
As I said ealier I am a risktaker. I decided to do it, because of the "fear". Was it a foolish act? Who's to judge.
My life is changing.
It started July 5th. Everyday is an adventure, good, or bad.
A co-worker and friend of mine related something very profound and very true to me yesterday. He told me the Chinese symbol for crisis is interpreted as "trouble and opportunity". I like that!
It has another point of view in which Americans look at crisis as,..."well, CRISIS."
Today is a new day.
Time to work.
Time to play.

Later my friends.
Oh, yes. The nipple doesn't really hurt today. Just a wee bit sensitive.
What next?
...I want a motorcycle!!!!

Time's a ticking

2008-09-24T08:07:00.006-05:00

Well, got the news back for my heart. Seems I have a "moderate" murmur with a leaky valve. It just couldn't have been a "mild" murmur!!!&%^#$%@^
Whatever.
The Doc spelled out that I have a couple years until things could get bad. However, as a safeguard he's setting me up with a "Heart Specialist" who will monitor my (well, i want to call it progress, but I will call it: digression).

The good news; I can still continue my running and exercise. I want to die a goodlooking corpse, at least.

Seems bad things come in threes, eh?!
Left my job over a year ago and still have yet to get my freelance business off the ground.
Lessee, the wife decided I "was not worthy"....
and now, Heart issues.
What the fu..?!!
As my oldest daughter, Audrey said it, "Dad, Lisa broke your heart."
Maybe. Honestly, it's the hibloodpressure and years of Jimmy Buffettesque livin'.
Interesting when one realizes their "mortality"...Adrenaline kicks in. Crazy stuff starts rattling the brain. I've been actually having more fun the past several months (despite the "pity crap") and am looking forward to more things to polish this soul of mine.
Today,...I'm debating a nipple piercing! Yes, I know. It's foolish. But Foolish has been my companion for most of my life. And, I'm a risktaker and a dare man. I would like to think that it is what makes me an Artist, if I may call myself that. I've lived like an Artist. Loved like an Artist. Made an ass of myself at times, like an Artist. Therefore...I must be an Artist.
Which brings me to this....
as I said earlier, Mortality, when we are confronted with it, makes us get off our asses and start jammin'.
My Art is now taking precedence in my life. Just gotta tweak the things that still are a nuisance, like finding new living quarters,, new studio,... I could go on, but it doesn't take the place of "actions".
This is it for today. Sorry, no "oh woe is me", today.
By the way' to whomever is reading this blog I leave this bit of advice my father gave me as a child; "shit, or git off the can".
The most profound advice he gave me several days before he died was, "Do what You want to do with your life and let no one stand in your way".
Some times I wish he were with me to comfort me with his wisdom. I was fortunate enough to tell him "I loved him", before he died. And he in turn said the same. It was the first and last time we had said that.
I did not regret his death, just mourn the passing of an honest man whom was looking for what I have lived.
So, I say to my friends "I love you".
To my children, "I love love you".
To my daughters; Audrey, Kellie, "Marry those Boys"! They're good men!
To Angel, "see the world!"
To Seth and James, my sons, continue doing what it is that drives your lives. Live with the ups, the downs, but, "just live!" Life is short!

Well, gotta consider that piercing.

Gotta Go!

The Clowns

2008-09-21T13:11:00.003-05:00

yesterday i mentioned the clown painting i did and my grandaughter remarked, "it's kinda scary Grandpa John, but I like it."
Well, here are a few photos of it. It just happened. That's the way some of my art is. Just a thought, an idea, then it flows.
Sorry if I offend any clowns out there, but I always wondered "what do they do when they don't make us laugh?"

Saturday Blues

2008-09-20T12:58:00.004-05:00

It's Saturday...i'm broke...still waiting to hear my test results from the echgocardiogram......went running this morning despite it all.
At this point in my life I have to say, "sh..!!"
I'm tired. Tired of waiting for a place to call my new home. Tired of looking for a job that pays abit more so I can pursue my life's ambition; my Art.
I long for the smell of paint and a canvas. I long for a chisel and a piece of wood to create a piece that I can marvel at someday.
This morning my 5 year old grandaughter Rylee looked at one of my pieces in my "limbo" studio and remarked she liked it. I was amazed and flattered. The piece is a parody of Clowns. Some may find it morbid, but I find it amusing. It's entitled "Clowns on Holiday". Amazing things one can do with dolls and a rubber shark. I like it, however, but most do not. It materialzed when I had a thought about clowns and their roles to make poeple laugh, or happy. I then thought what do clowns do when they're not working. That's when I went off on a tangent as clowns (some) having a dark side. No matter. It's My Art!
I'll post it sometime.
Shame on me for being an artist with an attitude.
Shame on me for this self pity trip right now.
Time to go find a friend and a beer.
Adios!

The waiting game

2008-09-18T07:37:00.000-05:00

My physician discovered a heart murmur last week. Went for an Echocardiogram Tues this week. Still waiting.
Waiting sucks!
And I am the worst when it comes to anxiety.