It’s 7:03 AM. And on this mid-November Sunday, I’m sitting on my couch, thinking about Kurt Vonnegut. I’m reading his funny little book, God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian (Seven Stories … Continue reading Oh, Bless you, Mr. Vonnegut
Good Results and a Bookstore
WINSTON-SALEM, NC – It’s not every time I’m at a doctor’s office to receive good news. Most of the time, and rightfully so, I’m sorta scolded by doctors saying I … Continue reading Good Results and a Bookstore
You Can’t Blame Good Sex On A Puppy
Ever since my wife and I moved into our dream home, The Locke Nest Cabin, as I’ve named it, one of our favorite things to do is have our coffee … Continue reading You Can’t Blame Good Sex On A Puppy
A Little Bit of a Different View
Years and years have passed. Originally, I was going to write about this subject – this film – back in 2004, when it was released to the world. And the … Continue reading A Little Bit of a Different View
Dreaming About It Happens From Time to Time
She was in my dream again. I’m not sure how many times I have dreamt about her throughout these ten or so years since I first found out about her. … Continue reading Dreaming About It Happens From Time to Time
Cigarettes & Salem
My mailbox was full… that, I am sure. As for the rest of the night, it could have been madness – the kind of madness sinking and rotting into the soul, when the soul has been spent and left in a city.
The city of Winston/Salem. That is where I found myself two nights ago. It was dark: past nine PM. Security Guards were checking permits, and doing their duties/jobs. Their white negro smiles and batons ablaze…
And what was I doing?
I was looking to smoke a cigarette. You would think a city such as Winston/Salem would support such behavior. It is the American Tobacco Motherland. Hell, two brands of popular smokes originated in that concrete jungle of hypocrisy. Because of nicotine junkies like me, there is such a city, never mind the hospitals the cigarette companies paid for.
What started as a low – a low evening, in wait – turned even lower, still.
God bless the big man from the gas station (he gave me the book of free matches). That was a long hike from the hospital. It was a BP gas station. He would not permit me to simply use a lighter. My pockets were already carrying around discarded, half-and-quarter cigarette butts from the streets.
This was a mirror to my past – and its desperation.
I have walked MANY streets. Been down some dark alleys… the type with glowing eyes and razorblades in the corners.
I’m not sure what came first. The dumb, stuttering and stupid, pathetic attacks… or, the thought to rationalize them. What could not – would not – be rationalized was the horror with which my wife found herself. A man – her man – sick in the brain, and still wanting nothing more than to fill his cup with overflowing addictions and predilections…
My hundred yes, yes, yeses to the sky, and to the air around me, served as my mantra to go on. To finish this rotten endeavor I’d put myself into: smoke a damn cigarette within 30 mins. And then back to my hospital room, back to the mechanical bed and television. I was NOT looking forward to going back to the room, the endless television, and the many “check-ins” with the nurses throughout the night. The damn blood-pressure cuff, needles…
Truth be told, I was LOST. I walked around and around the massive, massive medical building.
(I think I entered into seven different ENTRANCES/EXITS.)
Just being lost – not in the city – just LOST around a building, IN THE MIDDLE of the night was crazy enough. I was out of breath, hot… feeling lonely… and all the wonders in-between served me well.
I DID NOT have to be in a hospital.
That is what I came up with.
I NEED TO BE HOME!
What A Life
It was not that long ago when the cold weather was something I feared. And rain. As well as the blistering hot sun and humid air of the summer. I … Continue reading What A Life
So many exciting things are happening. One moment, my head is barely able to be lifted off the pillow to wake up (don’t worry, that is normal before the “ritual” begins), & the next moment, I’m head-crazy excited about a story. A story I care deeply about – including an interview with a renowned, important poet, travel, luxury – has presented itself to me.
I’m heading back to Louisville, KY.
Assignment: Cover GonzoFest, 2022, on October 29th.
Just Like A Kid
Going out to get pizza is something I have enjoyed since childhood. Usually, I think of movies, Friday nights, and the start of a weekend… you know, kid thoughts. Thoughts … Continue reading Just Like A Kid