Slippery Dreams

“I Predict PAIN...”

2010-07-23T11:22:00.000-07:00

The last month has been one of the more eventful periods of my entire life. I have experienced pain as never before. Not my pain but that of another. I have always been squeamish when it comes to pain in others. Not my own pain. I mean I walk around on two broken feet and suffer from continual nerve damage. About 3 months ago I crushed my finger and was satisfied with some Neosporin and a band aid; I think it's still broken. No worries though. I had eye surgery which required a needle directly into the optic nerve – Ouch! No biggee when it is me getting the hurt but let someone else get a slight bump or take a fall or bang their head and I cringe. I get sympathetic pain shooting down my legs as if it were me getting hurt. I hate to see others suffering.

Yet this last month or so I have witnessed someone very close to me suffer excruciating pain caused by Sciatica, Pain like a rat gnawing at them, non-stop, down to the bone, crying but it hurts so bad that tears escape them. Brutal unforgiving, merciless pain. What is worse is that not even the strongest narcotics seem to have an effect.

I seldom leave their side because the pain prevents them from doing the simplest of things and I am there to help. But today I took leave of them for about two hours to attend a meeting of the High Desert Tea Party. You see this week there was all the controversy about racism and the NAACP and the Tea Party Movement. Now I first became aware of them during Tax season last year and remember seeing the crowds line the streets holding signs and talking about “Don't Tread On Me!” and “No Taxation Without Representation!” I mean they weren't hating on Obama or Congress and I saw Black, White, Latino, Asian, a veritable cornucopia of race protesting all for the same ideals.

I don't know when the liberal and conservative entered into it all but I was curious about it. (I know you must be wondering where the Pain comes into this – bear with me) So when I heard there was going to be a meeting nearby I wanted to see it for myself.

I grew up in the sixties and seventies and what I remember about that time was the trust. Trust in our government, trust in flagship corporations, trust in doctors and lawyers and newspapers and television news anchors, trust in banks, in the stock market, in real estate, trust in elections, trust in our neighbors, trust in 'One Nation, Under God....” We believed in freedom, liberty, truth, justice and the rule of law. Free Speech, The right to peacefully assemble, to bear arms – Life, Liberty And The Pursuit Of Happiness.

It seems to me that trust has gone by the wayside. No one has trust in anything these days. The message I got initially from the Tea Party was that they believed in the system, in the core fundamentals of our great society and want to use the means within the law to take back the institutions we once believed in, we once trusted in. Think about it, regardless of where you fall, conservative or liberal how can you trust a congress that passes a 2000 page bill without ever reading it? That is surely a road to self destruction if ever there was one.

So I went and saw for myself and was truly impressed. I was the lone black marble in a sea of white but I was not stared at like a freak, I did not feel as though I didn't belong. I was welcomed not effusively but on par with everyone else who had been there for the first time. Actually my only disappointment was to see how few young people were there. While I was there I got to thinking about the pain the country is in, the collective Sciatica, the national pain and how we arrived at such a place.

Years ago I heard a story that took place during the Gold Rush days. It was about a man and his dog. They lived in a wood frame one room shack with a fireplace and the miners would all come to the shack and warm themselves by the fire, reading the week old newspapers, smoking their cigars and drinking moonshine.

One of the miners noticed the old hound dog hardly ever moved from the spot where he laid except to occasionally rise to go out and relieve himself. On one of these rare instances the miner noticed a long nail sticking up out of the floorboard where the dog had been laying. When the dog returned he came back to his spot circled over the nail and slowly let himself down with a slight moan. The miner said to the owner of the shack, “Why does he lay on the nail when he could just move over and lay on the smooth floor?” The man replied, “He has grown accustomed to the pain and is too old and tired to change.”

I think the Tea Party has the right idea. You see it is a response to pain. Pain we have grown accustomed to. As a society we have become lackadaisical about everything it seems. Unwilling to take the time, energy or effort to fight for our way of life, to allow others to do for us what we should do for ourselves – not trusting yet hoping they would do what is right. We have become the “Dog On The Nail”

The Tea Party is not perfect. It is grass roots on a national scale but still disjointed and unrefined. That it continues to grow in numbers and influence is a testament to the ideals that are mutually shared by its members, state to state, city to city town to town and soon those who are ready to move off the nail will get it together and begin to restore to our great nation the hope, the trust, the dream that was once this great land. But before that happens I predict PAIN!

And Jill Came Tumbling After...

2010-05-20T19:25:00.000-07:00

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.” Sir Edmund Hillary.

From the base I stared up at the summit. There was a stand of trees with bare trunks stripped white from the cold. The tracks in the fresh snow revealed the presence of others but I was alone. The climb was not exceptionally high but the grade was steep.

I felt a small drop of sweat roll down my cheek inside my goggles. I was set to go up this hill, to conquer my fear.

I revved the snowmobile, the chain clak,clak,clak,clakityclakity,clakity,clakity. The surface was slick and the snow packed from earlier riders. Slow at first then the vehicle under me picked up speed. I didn't want to turn it over, I was alone and a spill out here could be a tragedy. I thought to stop, turn back while I still can. Before I knew it I was to far gone and now committed to the climb. ClikClikClik the chain roared and the tread ripped into the hard packed snow. I leaned a bit forward to move my weight to the front of the snowmobile. As I approached the mid point I could feel the inertia of the climb slow down and gravity start to fight against me. This is what I was afraid of; the climb would be to steep for the heavy snowmobile and it lacked the power to pull me to the top. I revved the accelerator sending more power to the tread in a burst, I leaned low over the handlebar and pushed her hard determined to overcome the weak force of gravity as it pulled against me. Sweat rolled into my eyes but I couldn't wipe it away, not willing to release the handlebars. The top was right there, I'm going to make it!

The snowmobile swerved underneath me but I caught it and regained control and just as I did I popped up onto the trail at the summit.
I made it and didn't die. My heart was beating like a jackhammer. I felt the rush of accomplishment. There is nothing like it. The euphoria, self aggrandizement. Yeh I'm a badass! I can do anything! I yelled to to trees. They seemed to bow in agreement as a slight breeze whistled through the timbers.

I thought to myself in a moment of reflection. Life seems to always present us with challenges and until we face them, overcome them by sheer sweat and blood and balls, they will always remain in front of us taunting us, screaming and laughing. Ha! you can't do it! You are a pipsqueak, you are nothing before me. Well I answered and made the climb. I won and this climb can never taunt me again. I won because I am a winner. To think how I feared and almost allowed the fear to overtake me to cause me to shrink back and take the easy road. Now I am at the summit and nothing can take the climb away from me. The sweat poured down over my face and I removed the glove off one hand and wiped my eyes clear . Now it was all good and my heart returned to rest then it happened. It hit me so hard I thought I was going to fall over. All the glory, euphoria from the successful climb was washed away in an instant. I looked back down the crest I had just climbed realizing that the next challenge this peak presented was so much more than the first. I almost cried at the spectacle.

Climbing the mountain seems difficult when you are at the base but as you climb you forget about the fear and press on because it always shrinks before you. Now on top you face the greater challenge - going down.

The descent is always before you when you are at the top. Once there you fear falling, you fear losing all you have gained from the climb, you fear the forces out of your control, you fear the constant spiraling, falling, down, down, down.

If you live long enough and are strong enough to make it to the top you also will face the descent until and hopefully you find equilibrium.

Where In The World Is Reamo The Rhino...

2010-03-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

“Hey has anyone seen Reamo!” The Weedhopper yelled down the wing.

Everyone was accounted for except for one of the recently installed brothers who lived one floor down from the Fraternity Wing.

Bangor was experiencing the largest snowstorm in decades and "Reamo The Rhino" was missing. He didn't have a car and was broke all the time. Years later a Fraternity brother recalling him remarked that he was the brother that never had money to do his laundry. "He was always bumming quarters."

I was a poor kid from down south, Essex County in New Jersey and Maine was my shot to escape the ghetto. One problem. I had chronic sinus and throat problems. I hadn't had my Tonsils removed as a child and the cold damp weather took it's toll on my immune system. Not to mention the stress of pledging and the rigors of a full load of freshman coursework.

"No, ask Candyman!", the brothers that were on the wing yelled back.

"Hey Candy we gotta go out and see if we can find the Rhino."

"Man look at that snow out there, I mean how we gonna find anything out there?", Candyman answered. "Maybe he is in the girls dorm", he said.

"Nah, I checked the girls dorm, the dinning commons and the library. Nobody knows where he is at." Weedhopper replied, obviously worried about his closest friend.

I had just gotten over a bad cold and sore throat but it seemed I had a relapse. My throat was killing me, I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep and Husson didn't have a clinic. There was a nurse but I needed to see a Doctor to get some antibiotics. The problem was I had to go clear across town to the Bangor Community College campus to get treated.

I got dressed and pulled on my over sized faux fur snow boots that I got at Two Guys In Harrison from the Bargain Basement. I was lucky because it never snowed enough in Jersey to warrant boots of this type so I got them for Nine Dollars. Rubber galoshes were the status quo. I pulled up my hood, zipped up my coat and put on my gloves then trudged the few miles across town. All I could think about was how bad my throat hurt and how cold it was. The snow was coming down in huge white flakes so fast and heavy it seemed like a sheet was being dropped on top of me.

Weedhopper, Candyman and the Toad were also from New Jersey and the Weedhopper was the Rhino's closest friend, they had been friends since they were in Kindergarten and virtually inseperable since. The four were now brothers and close as they could be. The weedhopper was worried because his friend was missing and probably out in the snow.

Candyman had a Jeep that he had built from the ground up and whenever there was a school break he became the groups ferryman transporting the fraternity brothers back and forth from Jersey to Maine. The Jeep had a Plow and Winch on the front and could go just about anywhere.

"Okay let's go", he said.

The Weedhopper and Candyman hopped into the Jeep. The snow was coming down so hard they could barely see where they were going. They took off down College Circle Rd. onto Hussun Avenue then to Broadway the main road into town.

"Well it looks like yor are going to need an operation young man." The Doctor said.

"An operation! what do you mean?" I could barely talk but the news shocked me. I was away from home and I had to make a decision on whether or not to allow these people to cut on me.

"Your Tonsils have nearly closed off your throat and this is the third time for antibiotics. They aren't working, the only solution is to remove them. What you
must know is that this is a minor procedure when it is done on children, their
cartilage is soft and healing usually takes a few days. At your age it is a longer
recovery time and painful. There are also possible complications and even a small risk of death."

The doctor gave me some antibiotics and some pain pills, A new type of aspirin called Tylenol. The surgery was scheduled for the next week. I got my gear back on and headed back out into the weather. It was snowing even harder now and colder. I was hurting so bad I began crying, I was was also a bit scared. The snow was about a foot deep and it was becoming difficult to walk but there were no Cell Phones back then. I didn't even know any numbers to call.

I was becoming snow blind and could no longer tell what was up or down, everything was white and the snow fall was so heavy usual street markings, signs and lights were swallowed up. I had to keep going, no alternative,no choice.

"Hey look over there!" Weedhopper pointed to a dark figure in the distance, barely discernible.

"Yeh I see it!" Candyman steered the Jeep in the direction of the lonely figure. "Is it him?" Candyman asked.

"I can't tell!" The Weedhopper yelled.

I looked up from my trudge and barrelling directly at me was a truck of sorts. I couldn't tell what it was and I froze in my already frozen tracks, squinting as it got closer. It broke through the snow like the Valkyries swooping on a fallen Hero to escort them into Valhalla.

The Jeep came to a full stop sliding and pushing up a mound of snow just in front of me.

"HEY REAMO!" both my brothers Candyman and Weedhopper yelled as the passenger door swung open.

I don't really remember what happened after that except yelling and screaming. I did have the operation and it was horrible. I was in the hospital for a week and could not eat solid food nearly a month. I have never had a sore throat since then.

I don't recall ever really thanking Candyman and Weedhopper. Thank you so much for rescuing me, I love you guys.

YITB Forever

REAMO THE RHINO

In Time For Valentines Day!

2010-01-28T15:32:00.001-08:00

Do you Love Her? Do Love Him?

Why then would you allow a simple off the rack card Express your Passion?

Give them a one of a kind professionally written Love Letter.

"Would you like to get flowers and candy on Valentine's Day or would you rather recieve a one of a kind card, a letter really, a love letter, from your boyfriend. It would be written on a heavy parchment like parper in caligraphy, rolled and tied with a silk ribbon, sealed with wax, with a single rose poking through the top? It would be written specifically for you and no one else would get the same letter."

This is from my earlier post titled "Never Really Never..." and when the young lady that I was speaking with heard this idea she gushed with excitement as did the others that heard it. You can stil give your significant other flowers and candy but cake without icing is just cake. Add icing to your cake with a unique one of a kind Love Letter delivered to her door for Valentine's Day.

Give her or him a Valentine's Day they will remember forever, give them a testament of your Love. But hurry! Spots are filling quickly. Go to http://passionexpressed.blogspot.com for all the details. Read an actual letter and send your request quickly so you can be showered with the gratitude that follows when Passion is Expressed.

“I Bet You Can Hit Me With A Quarter”...

2010-01-14T13:52:00.000-08:00

I dropped the Beast off at the RV mechanic. I have to get to the bottom of why it doesn't want to start sometimes. Well the mechanic told me it was going to be a while. So I packed up my laptop, my camera, my Kindle and a book. I was going to wait in their lounge but there was a Starbucks not to far away so I strapped everything on and began the trudge. I am amazed at how little I walk these days. I love it. As a kid my friends and I walked endlessly from one adventure to the next. Not anymore. With the load on my back, I realized in a few minutes that I need hiking boots. The loose, worn out, cross trainers were sloshing all around with every step. By the time I got to corner I had a slight twinge of chest pain, not out of breath just discomfort. Man I am out of shape.

The light to cross the intersection (The busiest one in the city) was red and just as it turned green I dropped my Kindle in the street. Since I have entered the ranks of the Travelers I have recommitted my life and have been doing my best to curb what once was an utterly foul tongue. At this instance I had to bend over with the weight of the backpack forcing me downward to the ground. While holding onto my other book and keeping my glasses from slipping off my nose I cursed and prayed for forgiveness almost at the same time. I quickly managed the movement and was upright in a flash. Actually I was somewhat stunned and proud of my youthful vigor. I'm gonna pay for today tomorrow, I thought.

It was a beautiful day, the Sun was bright and warm, the air was clean and the sky was a wonderful blue, with clouds like whipped cream just lazily floating by. The crispness of the air with the exercise provided in the walk caused my eyes to tear up and they ran down my cheeks. I hurried to cross but the light turned red again I was halfway across. I felt like a base runner caught in a run down between first and second, I made it to the other side – SAFE!

My mood had taken a turn for the worse. I was just suddenly mad at the world. I got to the other side and stepped up onto the sidewalk; the Starbucks was in sight. Over the past few months I have met several very interesting folks, genuinely struggling to survive through the current economic downturn. Some are brief encounters, some have a longevity, but none endure. I attribute this to the nature of traveling, always on the move. You know, “A rolling stone gathers no Moss.” When I looked up I saw a person holding up a sign. At first I thought it was just a crazily dressed guy. I was scowling to myself, fighting the negativity of my mood. The sign holder from behind looked like a cartoon character. They wore a completely matching ensemble of gray sweats with red trim at the cuffs, waist and collar. They also wore a knit cap with ear flaps. On top was a red ball and from each ear flap hung a dongle with a red ball at the end. One pant leg was pulled up over the shin on one side only, when I saw the shoes close up I realized it was a woman under this getup. At the time I was to pissy to see the humor in this character but thinking back it was quite a sight.

I thought “Oh no another sign flyer”, probably a drug addict or psycho off the ward or just a scammer trying to get some easy money.

“Are you okay?”, I heard her say as I passed by. This stopped me in my tracks, I wanted to see her face and I did not expect her to ask that. I expected her to ask for money.

“Why do you ask?”, I said. She was attractive with delicate olive toned skin, dark, large brown eyes, full shapely lips and a small roman nose. Nothing at all what I expected.

“I thought you were crying.” she said.

I looked at her and then I looked at her sign, it was a piece of brown cardboard written in magic marker, it was the most creative pitch I have seen so far, a marketing brainstorm that deserves serious analysis. All at once I understood why the getup. She was standing close to the curb at a point where the traffic stopped and slowed significantly. While we talked she waved the sign vigorously. I noticed she had long slender fingers and ceramic nails painted red. She wore a large silver ring with a clear brilliant cut stone.

“That's a nice ring”, just as I said it; with an enormous force, a handful of coins came flying at her from the traffic. She blocked the onslaught from hitting her face with the cardboard, only flinching slightly. She didn't bend over to pick the coins up, she didn't even look at them, from what I could tell it was about a dollar or so.

“What?”, she said. “That's a nice ring. What are you collecting for?”, I asked. “I need money to go to the Doctors”, Wham! She got hit with another volley of coins. They were collecting at her feet like coins in a wishing well.

My negativity and sullen mood were now an afterthought. She was charming and her sign was worth it all. I pulled out money from my pocket and put it in her free hand. Wham! She got hit again. I don't know if you have ever been hit with coins traveling at speed but it hurts like rocks. I turned and continued on my way, “Thank you, God Bless you sir”, she yelled. “Your welcomed Sweetheart!” I said turning and heading down the street. Just then Wham! I just laughed. She had the single most effective sign I have ever seen.

Never, you mean you never...

2010-01-09T20:36:00.000-08:00

When things are quiet and I have been alone for awhile I find I seek out waiters and waitresses to talk to. This is not often because restaurant's,even the average and mundane require an expense easily avoided (if you know how to cook), Yet when providence shines on me and allows me the opportunity I go. A few days ago I had such an encounter.

I was served by a young waitress that possessed the most attracting, broad smile and twinkling eyes you could hope for. She had full lips that framed white, straight teeth. After being on her shift for several hours she was still very bright and energetic - genuinely happy to serve me.
The restaurant was busy and is usually always in a state of chaos, the bane of popularity I guess. Yet she was not frustrated or angry or bitter, she was having fun so I thought to engage her in silly, foolish conversation. She was younger than my youngest child by several years so I had no ulterior motive.

"You have a beautiful smile." "Thank you", she replied beaming.

"You know you could be a mouth model." "Really, you think so?"

"Defininitely. Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked as creepily as I could without laughing. She responded with a nearly hysterical, drawn out, "Yessssss".

So we talked and joked and after she went to a busser's area just across from where I was sitting. I noticed that that was where the waitresses seemed to congregate. She was excitedly chatting with her counterparts and looking and pointing at me.

After a moment she came back to my table.

"So are you doing okay? "Can you bring me a few more napkins?"

She brought me the napkins in a flash and I asked her if her boyfriend ever sent her love letters. Again she replied in that drawn out way that teen girls do when feeling silly. "Noooo, I wish he would.", she said. I told her I was a writer and tossed an idea I have had of late.

"Would you like to get flowers and candy on Valentine's Day or would you rather recieve a one of a kind card, a letter really, a love letter, from your boyfriend. It would be written on a heavy parchment like parper in caligraphy, rolled and tied with a silk ribbon, sealed with wax, with a single rose poking through the top? It would be written specifically for you and no one else would get the same letter."

She exclaimed with a definitive,"The letter of course! That would be so romantic!"
She was beckoned by another table and turned to go. She had a rush about her. Excited by the idea, she went back to the busser's station and the girls began gabbing it up, pointing at me, smiling and talking ferociously.

Then she and two others about her age came to my table. With rapid fire they shot out questions at me.

"How do we get this?, Can my boyfriend call you?, How much does it cost?, Really you do this?"

I noticed that one of the waitresses was standing by herself in the bussers area. She was a bit older and from my perspective attractive. I asked the girls about her indicating a flirtatious mood.

"She's cute, who is she, is she single?"

The girls all said in unison "She's single but she has kids."

"Well that doesn't change anything, she's cute."

The girls giggled mischievously and said we are going to tell her you are interested in her." I laughed and said "Go ahead tell her and ask her if she gets love letters"

They hurried over to her and begin talking feverishly and pointing at me.

After she had made her rounds my waitress came by my table and informed me of the goings on.

"She said she has never gotten a love letter in her life."

"Really? Never? Wow that's sad. Tell her I am going to write her a love letter"

My waitress went back to the busser's station and the older lady soon appeared. They were talking and the older lady looked at me and smiled, almost laughing. I didn't know what to think but I knew I had made an impact. I wasn't sure if it was good or bad but there was a response to my query. A few moments later she made her way to my table and introduced herself to me. I could tell that she was much older than the girls but she still had the twinkle in her eyes and a welcoming smile.

"Hello, I'm Beth."

"Hello Beth, it's nice meeting you." I said as I shook her out stretched hand.

Her eyes were dark, her hair was cut short and as dark as her eyes. She had crows feet and you could tell she was a native of the desert by the appearance of her skin. Still she was, to me attractive and you know when she was younger a class A beauty.

"Is it true you never, in your whole life got a love letter?"

"It's true, never", she said then went about her duties waiting on her tables.

I sat there for a moment taking it in. No one had ever expressed to this very nice, attractive lady their passion for her. "How sad", I thought. I wrote her a letter on the back of a napkin. My waitress came around and asked me how it went. So I told her and gave her the letter written on a napkin to deliver for me.

"I'm done thank you for a splendid time". I wrote down my email address and told her to tell her boyfriend to contact me so she could get her letter. I put my tip down on the table and got up to walk out.

"Wait, don't go!" I heard coming from behind me. I turned and just as did the older lady Beth came upon me and gave me a huge hug tears were welling in her eyes. She said,"No one, not even my father has ever told me they love me like this. I will never throw his napkin away. Thank you so much for making me happy."

"No; thank you for allowing me to."

Are There No Prisons, Are There No Workhouses...

2009-12-22T18:49:00.000-08:00

“Hey how'bout a donation?”

My window was down as I drove into the Post Office's parking lot. An unkempt black man stood on the decorative knoll just beyond the entrance and yelled his request as I passed by.

Now I don't know if you go to the Post Office often or at all but if you want to get an idea of what your health care is going to look like after the government gets their hands on it, visit the Post Office a week before Christmas.

I completed my errand and returned to my car. Now I was puffin' on the last bit of a stogie I received as a present from a friend. I no longer afford them as they are truly a luxury. This one was particularly tasty though and I smoked it to the nub. I got to thinking about the fellow asking for a donation. He had no sign, no Bell or Salvation Army Pot. I wondered what he is seeking donations for. Now I have been blessed this week and received a much needed cash infusion, my immediate distress was alleviated and I am sensitive to the homeless, destitute and depressed souls I come across. They are brothers of mine in hunger, despair and cold. I pray for their souls, nameless to me they may be. I drove around to exit the lot and he was still there.

“Donation sir” he said as I slowly drove by.
“What are you collecting for?” I asked him.
“I'm hungry, I just want to get something to eat.”

I gave him the once over, he didn't appear to be homeless, neither did he seem to be under fed. He did though have the look of a hungry person on his face. So I asked him,

“When was the last time you ate?”
“What”
“When was the last time you ate? How hungry are you?”
“Well I could eat a KFC 6 piece”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“About five days ago.”

I don't know if you have ever gotten close to a truly hungry person. They have a facial expression that emits the despair of their situation. After about forty-eight hours hunger pains cease. You just know you haven't eaten and you know that the pains will return after a few more days. They will only last for a short time because your body begins to consume fat, then muscle, then bone and sinew. After about forty days or so there is nothing left and your kidneys fail not being able to process raw proteins from your body – then you die.

“Why, why are you in this situation?”
“Well I used all the government resources, but they aren't enough to last out the month.”
“What do you mean resources?”
“Well I am disabled, I get disability.”
“What is your disability?”, I asked him because he seemed physically able.
“Well I, uh, was told I have mental problems and uh...”, his voice trailed off as he was telling me his problem.

Again the look on his face was despair and he became quiet looking down to the ground, he mumbled and stepped to one side.

“It just doesn't last the month, it's just not enough to last the month.”

Tears began to fill my eyes as his emotion began to effect me. I reached into my pocket and gave him enough. Putting the money in his hand I looked him straight in the eyes and I said to him,

“What I believe is that God requires Christians to give to the poor and destitute and God loves a cheerful giver. Now what you do with this money is between you and God”

He stood up and his eyes smiled as he took the money and stuffed it in his pocket without seeing how much it was.

“Thank you sir, thank you brother.” He looked down at me as I sat in my car and then said, “You look like a lawyer, are you a lawyer?”

A tear rolled off my cheek and I looked up at him and said emphatically,

“No, I haven't worked in more than two years, I'm homeless just like a lot of people!”

His expression turned to concern and he grabbed my hand and said,

“Hang in there bro”
“For as long as I can”

The cars began to line up behind me so I drove off slowly into the madness and traffic of Christmas shoppers all oblivious to the gift given to everyone, why we celebrate the day.
No it is not to celebrate the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ, it is to celebrate the gift of Christ.

“For whosoever believes upon him, shall not perish but have everlasting life.”

The Bottom Of The Cup Is Never Empty

2009-12-05T14:12:00.000-08:00

The Barista called out, “Grande Cafe Latte”. She reached out hesitantly as if not wanting to be noticed. Taking her cup of brew she looked furtively for a spot to sit down. The only one in the house was a nice deep armchair wedged between a ravishingly beautiful, statuesque woman, fair skinned with dark shoulder length auburn hair. She was intimidating and almost out of place in the Southern California laid back coffee shop. It was her style,dressed in a black knit ensemble from head to toe with a gold chain and matching earrings, elegant, tailored, more reminiscent of someone from the northeast like New York or New Hampshire. She assured me she was a native Californian. She sat quietly reading her book not taking notice of the drama being played out in front of her. In the other seat a man appearing to be in his fifties, with a scruffy beard and feverishly tapping away at his laptop. He watched the woman noticing her stilted behavior. When she turned to see the open seat he averted his gaze so not to disquiet her further.

Her hair was black and seemed to be naturally curly but it had been comb straightened like she was in a hurry. She was of an olive tone and had dark, deep brown eyes with long eyelashes, full soft lips with red lipstick that had started fading. She seemed nervous and tense. Settling into the armchair with a newspaper as she sipped her beverage she slightly spilled, but caught herself.

“Goodbye, have a nice evening” the lady in black offered as she stood to leave.
“Have a nice evening” I replied.

A few minutes passed and the lady seemed more relaxed. Her cell phone rang and she had a brief conversation all the while sipping at her latte. The fellow in the corner continued at what he was doing. He had on a headset over his ears.

“Sorry” she said almost as if under her breath.

A moment passed and her neighbor pulled his headphones back and looked at her.

“Excuse me, did you say sorry?”.
“Yes”, she replied softly.
“I don't know for what but okay”, he said.
“I was on my cell phone and didn't mean to disturb you.”

She was leaning in towards the older gentleman who removed the headset to his neck and partially closed the lid on his laptop sensing she wanted to talk.

“It's okay, I was just watching TV on the internet”, he said.
“Really, we've recently canceled our cable at home because it was getting to expensive but my kids don't seem to mind at all. They say they get everything on the internet these days”.

Her full face came into view and she was good looking, not like the lady in black but the kind of beauty you look for when you want someone you can be with for the rest of your life. She accepted the mans invitation to start an extended conversation by removing his headphones and closing his laptop. She began to talk about her cell phone and the internet and the man gave her some information on how she could save money by using services on the internet. She was smiling now as though relieved. She got another call and the man took the opportunity to properly close out his computer.

“It was my son. I came here because I needed a break from him for a little while.”
“Oh really, how old is he”
“He's fourteen, I have 3 children my son and 2 daughters 12 and 10. I don't know what I am going to do with him though he's been getting into trouble lately”

The man thought back to his youth, when he was 12 and how wild he was.

“What do you mean by trouble, does he get into fights, stay out late, what kinda trouble does he get into?”

She explained that she was a substitute teacher and that his teachers have started complaining about his behavior. She also said that they may be just picking on him based on reports by her daughters.

“So are you from around here?”
“Yes, not to far from here.”
“Really, I live just over there”, she said pointing to the tract of newer homes. “Just behind the Target”. “My husband and I moved here about 5 years ago. How about you, are you originally from here?”
“No I am originally from New Jersey.”
“Really! She exclaimed with a new found vigor. “I am too, from Newark!”
“I am from South Orange”, the man replied.

As he looked at her closer he became aware that she was in her late 30's or early forties.

“I just got back from my 20 year reunion”
“We just had our 30 year reunion in October, what a small world we live in.”

Small talk continued between the couple for several more minutes. She spoke of her troubles with her home and was hoping to avoid losing it. She was completely comfortable and after a brief pause, as if to recharge herself to continue the next phase of the conversation, she looked up;

“My husband wants to divorce me.” she said in a monotone voice, expressionless and matter of fact. “But I am done crying about it”.
“I am so sorry for your marriage, but you have no need for tears. You have a lot going for yourself. You're young, attractive and intelligent. You have three wonderful children that love you, no need for tears over someone that can not see the forest for the trees.”

Her face was glowing now, the smile stretched broadly and her eyes twinkled with great satisfaction. She received the confirmation of what she already new to be true. They exchanged email addresses. She stood slowly and said,

“I better be going, you have a good evening, hope to see you here again soon.”
“Okay you take care now.”

“Oh here is a good seat! Go pull up a chair you have to be next to me to see this.” The woman said to her husband as she sat down and opened her laptop. “How do I get on line here? Excuse me sir I see you have a laptop can you tell me how to get on line here?”

“Sure, no problem.”, the man sitting in the corner with the scruffy beard said.

And Nuthins Plenty For Me...

2009-12-04T17:40:00.000-08:00

Looking out from the table, the feast laid out in full splendor, one could only consider their station. Surprisingly though no one offered up thank fullness for the blessings that brought them there.

Bless the cook, bless the feast, thank you Lord, let's eat.

The entire clan was there save a few that could not make the journey. No outsiders. They dug in with gusto to the annual bacchanal. I was unsettled and could only consider how far I had come from the year before where the feast was celebrated in my, then home. I am not without fault because then I too did not consider with full grace my blessings. This year it was somewhat different. Virtually homeless, the BEAST was parked out in front, I considered my blessings.

Everything from time past has dissolved into faint memory. Employment, Credit, Savings, a house full of stuff, freedom to go and do as I pleased a fading memory. Sad as it sounds I am so blessed!

The tune from Porgy And Bess has rolled around in my head; “I've got plenty of nuthin and nuthins plenty for me...” No one in the direst of circumstances has nuthin. The song chronicles what nuthin is comprised of. My inventory of nuthin is that my health though not the best could be much worst, I am blessed. I still have my car by the grace of God, I have the BEAST which keeps me off the ground, I am blessed. I've got my mother still living God Bless her, I am so Blessed. My siblings and their progeny (None have been lost to the ages, thank God and keep them all).

My most valuable and wonderful blessing of all are the great and dear friends I have past and present. My fraternity brothers that have kept the oath. Oh how wonderful they are and how glad I am that I did one thing right in my youth to cover me in my old age. They are more valuable than any retirement plan could ever be. The solace of their companionship keeps me, I am blessed. Though I live spartan I have not gone hungry and by the grace of God have not been forced to beg, I am blessed.

I am free. Destitute though I may be, but I am free. Free to make my way as a man, I am blessed. I am blessed that I am more aware that I am so, more than at any other time in my life. Knowing that you are blessed and that though desperate and destitute you are upheld by forces and circumstances beyond yourself is the most liberating of all knowledge.

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen” I do pity those who have not been blessed with this understanding".

The LORD spake unto the fish...

2009-11-03T18:22:00.000-08:00

Turkey, Mashed Potatoes, Gravy, Green Bean Casserole with the crunchies on top, Sweat Potatoes and Candy Yams, Cranberry Sauce (I'm allergic Aaarrgh!), Creamed Onions; the fourth generation running amok, Nieces, Nephews, Sisters, Brother, Mom - all noise and confusion, smiles and laughter mingled with the aromas of the feast. There is no better time of year than the winter holidays.

I remember Luther Vandross singing "A House Is Not A Home". I think of it almost daily.

Homelessness is real.

A friend said to me, " You shouldn't be living like a homeless person because you have a place to go." Then he generously offered me a room in his home.

Everyday I'm out here I meet others in my same predicament. Many in far less comfortable situations than I. There is the young guy I met in his mid twenties who sleeps on the ground and carries his worldly possession on his back, the WWII Vet - he is in his eighties and can barely hear, he sleeps in a Van. There is the young couple and their dog, an old brown Lab - they live in a camper mounted onto an old Ford Truck. Then there is me.

I live in the belly of the Beast.

I have the choice of three beds, a kitchenette outfitted with a stove, oven, microwave, fridge, and a full bathroom including a shower. I am not uncomfortable and if needed I can run on a generator as long as I have fuel. So is a house a home? The line from Luther's song that sticks out most for me is "A chair is not a chair when you're not sitting there".

Recently the director of the Union Rescue Mission stated that the title of Homeless needs to be changed.

Homelessness is more than not having a permanent shelter housed in either a house, apartment or the like. It is a state of societal detachment and constant movement. It has little to do with comfort. Humans are probably the most adaptable animal on the face of the earth. My adopted son at 20 would love to spend his days and nights sleeping and living on the ground under the stars, for him it would be an adventure.

So my suggestion for the new word to identify the homeless is Wanderers or Travelers. In essence being homeless is akin to the lone Bedouin in the desert. He finds a spot near a watering hole and pitches his tent. Once set he abides until the water dries up or he is forced to move.

I think the hallmark of those who are voluntarily homeless is the lack of desire to settle for life on societies terms. The essence of the self seeking dropout mindset that came into focus during the Hippie Generation. This is why you see so many that are driven by Alcohol and Drugs; not to play down the effect these dependencies have on those trapped by them, but those behaviors are at their root antisocial. These are the "Homeless".

Those of us who were thrust into our circumstance by external forces are daily seeking to make their way back. We by virtue of our state; forced to move daily by governments, society at large and the constant pursuit of basic needs like food, shelter - survival are the Wanderers, Vagabonds on the face of the earth.

I Wonder As I Wander...

2009-10-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Orion, Cassiopeia, The Pliedes, all the wonders of the night burst out at three in the morning. Comforted by the surround sound of the freeway traffic I found a rest spot near another Truck stop but now I am under the constant pressure to move the Beast daily to prevent getting tagged. Beast of burden that he is he has a voracious appetite. Six miles per gallon, regular unleaded doesn't go very far. I can not express the degree of pressure this brings on a soul. I park about a mile or so off the road near the large
truck stop on the edge of town. During the day I move on to the travel center's parking lot and for the last few days have been observing all the goings on. Trucks moving in and out, cars, motorhomes, trailers and others in my same predicament. I know how I arrived here but those I have met seem to have chosen to be here, homeless I mean. Yet there are those who have been forced into it by the vicissitudes that come in the life of mankind. Kinda like Dorothy's house being caught up in a twister and dumped in the middle of the yellowbrick road in the land of OZ only to be tagged and ordered to move within seventy-two hours.

A few weeks had passed after the house was taken and I had acquired the Beast when I came to my last few dollars. I don't think I had ever been in that position before in my life.

I remember asking my wonderful man of a father for a nickel or for a quarter for arguments sake (I am sure it was a nickel), he stood at the top of the stairs on the front porch and gave me a lecture on the value of money. I stood patiently waiting for the diatribe to end and as usual when it did he reached into his pocket and tossed a coin. You see until I came to college there was always home to go to and mom and dad were the proverbial teet that I sucked on. I did actually begin working in the 10th grade. I lied about my age and joined my best friend who lied about his age working in a movie theater. We were there until graduation and in 1974 I was earning almost as much as my dad. College was another story. I had loans and grants and workstudy to pay for tuition and room and board. Laundry, a visit to the movies or to go into town for a beer was all on me. My mom and pop didn't have money to send me so I hustled quarters for laundry and bummed for beers. At the end of the day I would go to my room and sit in the dark and wonder if there would ever be light again.

Fortunately I had the intestinal fortitude to pledge and be installed in a wonderful Fraternity of young men; Tau Kappa Epsilon. Now being Black (If you didn't know, I am a Black American), my friends and those I meet expect me to belong to the wonderful Black Fraternities but I attended college in Bangor, Me. All my brothers with the exception of two were white and they remain my brothers to this day and I would give all that I have for their souls to prosper even my blood. Those guys tossed me quarters for laundry, dollars for beer, they drove me home when needed and didn't ask for me to share the gas – Yeah RAH TKE!

Yet it was hard being broke all the time but I was never truly broken because those around me held me together. When I was down to my last few dollars a couple of weeks ago I was able to collect some money that I never intended to ask for but my want drove me and I got some bucks but it only lasted a few days and I was facing the wall again and I sold a Laptop I had for a fraction of it's value but got some cash that allowed me to pay a most important obligation that does not require another payment for 6 months from now. Again I was chasing dust clods in my pockets looking for coins that I knew weren't there. It was at this time I was kicked out of the vacant lot so I trucked the Beast to my moms and had the good fortune of earning some cash for driving my niece to the Airport. I still have my car parked at my mom's and use it for things such as this. The money from that was helpful and allowed me to put some gas in the Beast – he was starving at about an eighth of a tank. Twenty-two dollars and twenty cents took the beast to between a quarter and a half and since then I have been making the move from the access road along the freeway to the parking lot of the big truck stop not wanting to use the fuel. When I put my pants on the first thing I do after the zipper is put my hands in my pockets and search for coins. I can't even find dust clods to chase.

So that is where I am. Today as in the past few days I am going to try selling what I have to make some bucks to feed the Beast and hopefully me. We'll see if the rest of the world will co-operate.

Tell Me again About The Rabbits George...

2009-10-24T00:34:00.000-07:00

The Beast rose up out of the desert, a phantom. Appearing as if by magic all at once, ominous and brooding. The Heavens above and the Earth below were like an ocean turned upside down and it was an angry sea.

Clouds hung in the sky heavy, with dark underbellies and silver tops waiting to pour out their disgust on a world gone mad. This was certain judgment and all below the heavens were on trial.

I couldn't help but consider those who were so
unfortunate to have to face the impending devastation.
I laid down in the belly of the Beast not particularly comfy but I was sheltered from the storm that was brewing. He rocked from side to side and I remembered what it was like to be a baby in a bassinet. I prayed the Beast would hold up. The wind howled and beat on the beast and penetrated his walls as if Tin were porous. I was cold but hunkered down. The Beast is self contained and I had no need to go out into the world on this unforgiving night. The storm raged outside as I slept tenuously and had passed by the mornings light. He was parked in a vacant field truckers used to take their eight hours, across from a Chevron Travel center in Hesperia, Ca. For about a week. As it were this was my last night at this location as the Beast was tagged by the city's code enforcement as a “Public Nuisance” on the morning of the Storm.
“Immediately stop living in the motorhome and move the motorhome parked in the vacant lot within 72 hours of this notice.” I called Code Enforcement because it seemed the Beast was singled out as there were numerous vehicles that had been resident in the field for far longer than I was, several apparently abandoned.
I was told it was illegal to live in the motorhome and it could only remain on the street for 72 hours – but you can't live in it. As to the other vehicles they were dealt with in other ways.
You see being homeless is a crime and if you are unfortunate enough to befallen of this predicament there is no haven, no city of refuge. You are a vagabond on the face of the earth whether you are sheltered by the meager means of a motorhome, sleeping in a car or on the ground living out of a backpack. You are in violation of human standards and are therefore no longer allowed to remain in society. So I wander as long as the gas holds up like the Jews in the wilderness being led by a cloud during the day and a pillar of fire at night.

God Bless The Child...

2009-10-10T22:12:00.000-07:00

The mournful, wailing of Billie Holiday singing God Bless The Child was playing over the loudspeakers when I happened upon this band of travelers. I don't suppose these very young men were homeless but more so like the Hobos of the great depression or kids thumbing their way across the country. They were in their late teens or early twenties. It Was a warm day and they were sweaty, smelly, gaunt and they were hungry. Sign holders.

It seems at every freeway exit, every shopping center egress they are there. "Homeless", "Hungry Please Help", "Homeless Vet" less frequently you see "Will Work For Food". Get a job is what goes through your mind. You look them over and pass judgement. "Drug addict, drunken, bum". You've been scammed so many times, they say they are hungry or need to feed their family or need to raise rent for the night so you give them a few bucks and see them five minutes later walking from the convenience mart they stand around with a brown paper bag concealing the beer they are guzzling. You feel like crap for being taken, like a fool. So your first thought is what a bum he spends a full day out here in the heat of the sun, the cold of the winter holding up a sign. "If they used half the energy they could find a job".

Though most of the sign holders are as you assume they are, homeless, destitute, alcoholics or worse. They are former convicts, or mental patients, mothers, fathers, lawyers, doctors and yes I even met a former Philosophy professor. Shells of their former selves.

My personal philosophy was not to give to them as a rule but time to time I come upon a case where they seem to be honest in their need. When I make that judgement I trust that my giving will be honored and I don't look back. I don't care what they do with the money I give them I just hope they use it for their good. I mean what is our responsibility to those in need?

A wealthy man came to Jesus and asked how they were to get into the kingdom of heaven and Jesus said "What does the law say?" The man answered "To Love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, and mind and to Love your neighbor as yourself". Jesus replied you are correct but a man in the crowd asked, "Who is our neighbor" Jesus answered with a parable that went something like this; "There was a man who was set upon by thieves and left for dead in the side of the road bleeding and broken. A priest came upon him and crossed to the other side of the road going on his way. Then a Levite followed and did the same leaving the man to die. A Samaritan passing the man took pity on him and cleaned and dressed his wounds then put him on his horse and took him to an Inn. The following morning when he was leaving he gave the innkeeper two pence and told him to give the man what he needed and if he spent more that he would repay him on his return." Jesus turned to those asking the question and said to them,"Who do you think was this man's neighbor? This is found in the Gospel of Luke chapter 10.

So what I surmise is that sometimes the needy are put in our way to test us. In those instances it is up to us to give as according to our ability. Not to concern ourselves with what the beneficiary of our charity does with the gift. They must answer for that.

So I have in recent days come to consider this; Why do they hold up the signs? I know the answer and if it could become the focus of all aid provided to the Homeless I believe you would see more than the Band Aid on a Bullet wound results that only prolong the problems without providing actual solutions.

Think of it, what if through some calamity you were forced from your home, with only the comfort you could carry on your back. You were left to wander aimlessly about day in and day out seeking to secure the basics of survival; food, water, shelter. Would you lose your sense of self or even more so your sense of self worth. I find myself in this position. Though I am fortunate to have the Beast which gives me some kernel of security I still am faced with the daily degradation that being homeless imposes. My daily struggle is the same - to survive the day with as much human dignity as possible.

DIGNITY the element that seems to be forgotten by Government Agencies, Caregivers, counselors and well doers. They try to provide for some needs, maybe a free meal, a cot for the night and maybe a shower. Think of yourself after not having a shower or shave for days on end. Because of your condition you shy away from the world. you are ostracized from society. You are forced to use the bushes as your bathroom and without the luxury of soap and water to clean after yourself. How long in this condition could you last and maintain your self respect, your dignity?

So we hold up signs hoping that we will gather from those with a heart to give that we might be able to preserve what dignity we have left. We hold up the signs hoping to be rescued if just for a day from the harshness of living in the street. We hold up signs because we have come to the end of ourselves and have no other means to put coins in our purse.

So next time you see someone holding up a sign realize that at some point this person lived amongst you, worked, raised children, held jobs and were a participant in society. All they want is a way back. Sadly most of us won't make it.

Danger, Danger, Danger Will Robinson...

2009-10-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a bit over 1 month and it hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. I had originally hoped to get started on this adventure earlier in the year, say June or July so I would have some time to get ready for the winter months. Instead they waited nearly 2 months before they showed at my doorstep.

Cash For Keys was my strategy. Get the money, buy a motorhome, travel the country writing articles and selling pictures I tried selling stuff before everything went down but 3 garage sales later and I still have most of what I started with. I ended up giving away furniture, TVs, computers, kitchenware and I still have a bunch of stuff in storage.

The first night I slept in the car at a Park And Ride across from the big Truck Stop. I did a good job packing the car it was functional and efficient. The next few nights I stayed in a motel first a flea bag and then a little nicer place for only a few bucks more. Then I started looking for Motorhomes in my price range. The problem was that most were dilapidated and required more work than I could afford. I found one that appeared in good shape by comparison. My big mistake was not test driving it when I first looked at it. I just wasn't confident in my physical ability to handle such a beast. Years ago I drove a sixty footer and actually did a K turn in downtown L.A. with it. But now I am 53, diabetic neuropathy has rendered my hands and feet nearly useless, eyesight is fading and hearing could stand a little tuning. So I was scared to be honest.

The lady selling it was attractive, nice, and very expressive she kept saying over and over to me “It's ready to go”. Her husband turned the key to start the motor and it cranked over with a little hesitancy. It sounded like I expected a 1978 Dodge to sound. Anyway I handed over three thousand dollars of my “Cash For Keys” money trusting that the vehicle was “Ready To Go”. They seemed like honest people.

It has been just daily drama wondering if it is going to start or if it is going to shut down, If I am going to pass out from the exhaust fumes that come up from the blown muffler. All in all it hasn't been that bad. It does allow me a bit more room than the car. It is surely a tad bit warmer and if I have money for gas and propane I can cook, and store perishables, there is even a satellite dish but it's not hooked up. It is "Ready to go" just not very far. I was going to to sue for restitution but it's a crap shoot and why add the bad energy to an already bad situation.

Anyway today I got some needed cash - not much mind you, but enough to take some of the pressure off. Tomorrow it starts all over again. I'll keep you posted.

Cheese, Cheese, Cheese for the RAT!

2008-09-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

You know for the World to make it we gotta get a grip on it! Now! Or it's gonna be to late for your Sons and Daughters and Sisters and Brothers, Billy down the street, Mr. Andrews at the liquor store, the guy you road the cell with for 2 years down at County Jail. If civilization, humanity is to survive we must use the 1 gene that separates us from animals - REASON!

The greatest evils in History come from those who have used it's power to execute schemes and machinations upon mankind, whether of madness or sober. Survival of the Fittest. Natural selection. It may not be the explanation for creation but it sure makes sense of the History.

The current events are precipitous in nature, if not by design.

For all the fantastic conspiracy theories that abound in the ears and minds of us all; I don't trust them but whose to say they are not true? I'm sure that there were conspiracy theories floating all over Western Europe in the early 1930s. Good German folk just looking at the current events, trying to put the loose ends together. Were they right?

Maybe not in detail or substance but they new in their bones something was coming!

Simple Though it may be

2007-12-21T00:02:00.000-08:00

id="simpleology_blog_a7955a0782c40bf18ee93dc9d6dabcf9">

I'm evaluating a multi-media course on blogging from the folks at Simpleology. For a while, they're letting you snag it for free if you post about it on your blog.

It covers:

The best blogging techniques.
How to get traffic to your blog.
How to turn your blog into money.

I'll let you know what I think once I've had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it's still free.

Tick, tock,tick,tock,tick, tock...

2007-09-18T14:25:00.000-07:00

The hands chase the numbers on the clock!

Time is the great equalizer for us all. No matter what our station, where you find yourself, whether you are homeless living in the street or the richest most powerful man on the planet 30 ticks and 30 tocks are allotted to one and all every minute of the day, every day of the week, every week of the month and every month of the year. Every wasted moment is that a wasted moment.

I have made some mistakes as I have commented on in my initial posts I have made others since though not the same. I seldom make the same mistake twice. My goal starting out was to learn about e-commerce and since I started this blog I have learned a lot - tons. Problem is all that learning takes time and when it passes you by it's gone. Like gettin to the bus stop and watching the license plate of the bus pull away as you run full out to catch it, gone! Done! Finito!

Good thing with the net the bus is just leaving the station so I'm not out of time yet I can still meet it at the station and ride it to my destination. But I have to get up and go because sooner or later my time will run out and the bus will pass me by.

Here's some stuff I have from the 3d world. We are always selling all the time, in everything we do. We sell our wives, girlfriends and lovers on spending time with us. Our employers on paying us, the doctor on helping us it is the most natural endeavor we could choose to undertake yet so many businesses fail to do what they are in business to do - sell their wares.

I have a fondness for Cigars and maintain a well stocked humidor of some of the finest cigars available to the public. Though where I live there are no tobacconist of any reputation so I drive about 45 miles in to town where there are quite a few. I also buy online. In all these places I shop I have signed up on there mailing list to receive whatever they have to send. I only receive emails from 3 and 1 of these I can't do business with because they are restricted from selling in California. None of the brick and mortor shops ever contact me by any means at all. It's a terrible thing when someone wants to be sold and those responsible for doing the selling neglect to fulfill their purpose.

I spend a few grand a year on Cigars and I know for a fact that that is small change compared to what some dish out. This though is for me an opportunity and I am sure it could be for you too if you just think about it. Anyhow I'll keep you posted on what I do with it. While I still have time...

Eeny - meenie-miinie-mo'...

2005-07-17T18:34:00.000-07:00

Catch a Tiger by the...?
Chasing the dream is about as tough if not tougher than catching a Tiger by the toe. It's been a few months since I entered the Blogosphere with my introductory post. So I guess your wondering where I've been.
Since my last post I have read some really good books on SEO, internet marketing, direct mail, eBay, and more. I have learned a little HTML and become more savvy in the IM world.
One thing I have found out is this: There is a Guru on the other side of every email. Seth Godin said it best in the title of his new book - "All Marketers Are Liars". That's probably a little harsh but the truth is that most of them very thinly disguise their pitches and offers. They sell email courses, mastermind groups and the like all purporting to teach you how to do something like put an RSS feed on your site. What they really do is give you enough background on the subject to peak your interest, to seduce you into wanting to learn more. Then they redirect you to buy a course or enroll in a membership site. The courses for the most part are rehashes of the same info they presented in their emails but none seem to give you the nuts and bolts. Mostly because they themselves have no true knowledge to offer. You end up where you started and anywhere from $5 to $997 or more poorer.

SOLUTIONS
If your new to IM, regardless of what you know or do in the offline world you need to get a footing. You will find your experience does not fully translate to this medium. If you are not a natural marketer finding good help is essential but truly hard to find. I have found a website and a Marketer that I highly recommend to the "Newbie". Joe Robson runs the The Newbie Club. This site is down and dirty nuts and bolts for Newbies. I mean, if you barely know how to turn your computer on, this is a place for you to start. They cover basic computing leading up to Internet Marketing. The forum on the sight is great because everybody there has the same questions. He also gives you a lot of free material and doesn't bombard you with emails everyday. Once a month or so an electronic newsletter is sent out that has tutorials on various subjects, everything from email to programming and web design, very basic and written in non geek everyday language. He does offer ebooks and other offers but so do the others. I buy from him every now and then and encourage you to also. The difference with The Newbie Club is this site helps and they will support you with email if you purchase their products.
I bought an e-book on the site about tweaking registries. It was an .exe format book and I couldn't open it. I sent them an email and they quickly responded with free software and explained it was an XP element that prevents you from sometimes opening the .exe format ebooks. The software patched it and I was on my way. The Membership to his site is free and for the money you can't beat it.

SUGGESTIONS

The one thing I do recommend is that you subscribe to the numerous internet guru e-zines. You might get 1 worthwhile bit of info from them but for the most part once you get on their list you will get hit constantly with offers to buy this or that. Don't spend a penny and if you're ever so inclined to do so, at the moment you are going to hit the button that triggers the money transfer - STOP! closeout and ask yourself: How will I benefit from this product or offer? How does this relate to my business and where does it come into play? Do I really Need it? Be very sure because you will find yourself spending $9.95 here and $14.97 there and at the end of the day you will end up spending thousands with little or nothing to show for it.

So why should I even bother signing up for these e-zines?
What you will learn are the techniques they are using to successfully sell bundles and bunches of crap. One sided software with no support and no revision - with the rate things change software becomes obsolete the minute you download it so one sided software that is not going to be revised and updated is worthless. They sell packages of rebrandable, resell rights. This is a joke!

I bought one because it included a Book of Chili Recipes. I did a little research and discovered the material was plagiarized. A lot of the recipes were directly taken from the International Chili Society Website. Now had I published this book, re-sold it or distributed it as though I truly had rights to the material I could become intertwined in a copyright infringement. There is no identifiable author. The books are rebranded over and over again. In other words you will put your name on the product as though you are the original author, publisher or distributor. The only saving grace is that the vastness of the net is such that it may not ever be noticed and the original holders of the copyright to the material may not ever know and if they did would not prosecute. That doesn't make it right! What is even worse is they sell it to you for the express purpose of selling it to someone else or using it as a bonus freebie to another of their offers.

Even though they are all mostly without merit I open all of them. I study their format, the phrases used, the buying triggers, the stories, the tricks and the gimmicks. Some of these guys are good, no doubt about it. Some of them are not so good and as you study them you will see the difference. One thing you will come to find out is that they use each other's mail lists and they do Joint Ventures promoting each other as the Guru of the day. It becomes a feeding circle, the author of the offer first then all the JV partners and you end up getting the same offer from multiples of marketers all using the same cut and paste copy. You can pick up on their timing, on their JV agreements everything. The true value is in the reverse engineering.

When I first came online I fell for this because I hadn't yet been subscribed to many lists and the copy is often compelling. I know the techniques they use work because they worked on me, you just need to learn them in their basic form and adapt them to your particular product or offer or market. Another thing is and I find this kind of funny is there are multiple circles of Marketers and usually they revolve around a senior marketer like Jay Abraham or Joe Vitale "Mr. Fire". They meet at various marketing events each one touted to be the be all end all event of all tme. So the JV deals circulate through the devotees of a particular marketing mindset and filter down to us. Seldom though do they ever join forces.

So to catch a Tiger by the toe you have to be a skilled animal trainer and the Slippery Dream is more than an animal it's a beast but man has dominion and the beast with wisdom, patience and skill can be tamed, controlled and mastered.

Till next we cross paths on the journey peace, good fortune, health and energy.

Round And Round We Go...

2005-05-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

Where we stop nobody knows, so the chant goes. I have survived to my middle ages and sometimes I feel like I am on a Merry-Go-Round. About 4 months ago while I was talking with a friend at work about the tax benefits of owning your own business I couldn't help but hear my own voice saying, "Why don't you listen to your own advice?"

You see I am an optimist and very entrepreneurial. I have always believed in the power of Capitalism combined with Democratic Freedom to allow anyone to achieve their dreams. I am not naive at all, but a cold realist. I know all about the truth of prejudice and racism and economic slavery, the plight of the minority and the power of the masses and all of the other excuses that present themselves to allow you to explain away your less than stellar achievement. As much as I want to lean on those crutches, I can't. I have a need to achieve or die trying. This has always been the case with me.

Since I was about ten years old, when I had my first paper route I have pursued the American Dream. When I was about 14 years old I sold Koscot Cosmetics (google that). I walked door to door and offered facials to housewives. I was an Amway distributor when all they had to sell was soap, I was a founding partner in an advertising agency, I partnered with a friend to sell Wholesale Diamonds. I looked into every scheme or offer out there and got tricked up by quite a few of them. So here I am today writing this blog because I am doing it again. This time I am not hitching my wagon to someone else's dream, like Koscot or Amway. I am learning what it is to be an Internet Marketer.

In retrospect of my prior attempts at self-determination there was one common thread that lead to my decision to participate. The cost of entry into the business was low. I never have had a lot of money to invest into anything and I have never known anyone with enough money to borrow from - no rich uncles. I come from dirty feet poverty and self determination is all I could afford. Now I have finally arrived to where I have some of what you work hard to have; a home with a mortgage, a car with a note and several platinum credit cards with 18% APRs. My mother lives with me and until a week ago so did my younger brother. I have a responsibility to them to keep it together so I can't just throw caution to the wind and burn up the platinum on a dream.

I looked around the internet, and various other sources for business opportunities that I could participate in. My criteria was simple; the opportunity had to have a low cost of entry, not more than $500, it had to be a bona fide open market business that was product or service driven and did not rely on recruiting others to maximize the potential of the offering. I had to be able to work at it on a very part time basis until it generated an income that was significant enough for me to leave my current employment.

I was surprised at how much there is that a person with a little bit of money, a little bit of time and a desire to achieve something could get into. There are a lot of scams out there also. I chose Internet Marketing because it fulfills all of my criteria.

There is a learning curve to this and I am about a quarter of the way to the halfway point of the initial ascent - in other words I still have a lot to learn. I want to learn because I really believe as a medium the internet is the seed pod of the future. I could do an entire blog on just that subject alone. I do know how to analyze the potential of an enterprise and using all the tools of economic forecasting and projection, when applied to internet marketing as an enterprise it is off the scales. The cost benefit ratio is so low it is astounding. I believe for that reason alone many middle income Americans that could easily jump on the bandwagon, have left it aside not considering it as a serious opportunity. It amazes me how many folks think you have to make a huge investment to launch an enterprise.

I haven't traveled very far in this but in my exuberance I made some mistakes (yes, I already screwed up!). I allowed a sincere sounding fellow that had everything I wanted (but couldn't pay for all at once) sell me a program that is a turnkey shell. The mistake was that I signed a four year lease for a credit card terminal and payment processing service. In return I will get a web site that I can buildout and operate where I can sell my own products or services from. There was no upfront expense and I did not think I would qualify for the payment processing or the lease. I had heard it was very difficult to obtain and I don't have the best credit out there. Now this isn't the bad part. The bad part is that the lease will run approximately $4000 to payout; the equipment is worth maybe $200 I didn't know and I hadn't wised up enough to stop and think, which is a pitfall to low cost entry; you tend to be less cautious. Part of the pitch was that I could be up and running in about 30 days and after about a year earning about $10,000 a month. Now I had done some research and knew that these numbers are not entirely speculative, however as I said there is a learning curve and up and running in 30 days is not feasible for me. So until I am up and running I will be operating on a negative. How long did Amazon operate in the red? Since I have learned a lot about , Affiliate MarketingAutoresponders, Dropshipping, Ebay, Ezines and more.

So to bring it all up to date; today I have 2 websites www.whatgoodstuff.com and www.verticalprofit.com/pips.html neither are the mistake I mentioned above. I am still deciding what to market on that site but am leaning towards products and services more in line with my current career in Mortgage Banking. I have a good source for dropshipping and could offer any number of products and I will probably enter the ebay fray as well. I have just filed a DBA for the 2 websites and for an offline business called ROVRgroup. I have obtained quite a few informational products that I could sell outright as well. Now I have to begin to tie up the loose ends and focus in on what I am doing and get this train on the tracks.

I will appreciate your input, information and anything you have to offer, even jeering criticism. If you have any question about mortgages I would be more than happy to answer them - I am somewhat of an expert. Thanks for reading my blog Slippery Dreams and join me from time to time.

Gary