"Thoughts, and Prayers": August 2021

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

I sense autumn.

Just a very slight aroma. The fall scent was in the air after the storm. It was warm, and humid yes, but the breeze had an edge of coolness about. In the same way you sense spring in very late winter...a cold breeze yet with a faint warm edge.

The Sun, and Moon have chased each other through the seasons. We have lived another summer, and now prepare for short days cold nights, and the turning of the leaves. A Wonder.

"...high times"

Well it's a warm humid evening at the butt-end of August. I'm here alone in my digs as we've all been like forever now. Anyway I'm banging away at da key board. So figure I'll do more of my life, and times. For starters a bullet just missed my head on Albany Avenue in Brooklyn during the 1990's Crack Wars. It's true what George Washington said about that. Not the drug wars...bullets.

"Fired musket rounds have the Deep Hum of Angry Wasps." It did.

On the upside some years before. I slept outside with pals on the balcony of a skyscraper in mid-town as a youth. This while an orange full summer moon rose over the Chrysler Building behind us. There were bright green streaks of meteors as well. A night to remember. 

Then again I was on 32nd Street just off Penn Station. I'm wandering along,...then I'm yanked! Pulled back by the neck, and 20 tons of steel flashes by. Got my attention. 
A crosstown bus from hell nearly squashed me. Get this. The street is empty. No one going or coming. Just a moment went by...no one there. Who yanked me? Angels spooks or space aliens again. 

Here's some memorable items from my pre-history.
There was the Christmas our folks did it up big. All of us got everything we wanted. That, and piles more. Our folks must have saved for months. Well them, and Santa. I'm talking bikes battalions of dolls model kits Books records...I recall my sister Sylvia got the first Beatles album. There were sox from grandma too. The tree with that great haul looked like a spread from a fancy magazine. 
It was a seriously cool day...thanks ma...thanks dad,...Santa too.

Okay here's the other side.
I nearly drowned as a little boy. I remember being knocked down by a gigantic wave. Then being dragged out to sea. I saw bubbles grains of sand seaweed, and these would have been the last things I saw. However I wasn't getting out of this mess that easy. 

Because after the sand, and sea weed came this bleeping big arm with an equally big hand attached to it. There was one of them Army wrist watches on that arm which grabbed me, and hauled my little butt back to the beach. 

I think I was too freaked out to cry. All I remember is being picked up, and passed on to my Mom. I don't remember anything about the man that saved me. Other than his big hairy arm, and his watch.
Mind you I've nearly bought it any number of times. However that one stays with me. I'm here today to whine, and complain because of some neat guy with big hairy arms.
Ain't life something.
I more or less woke up this morning. I'll take it from there.

"...1962"

My FB friend Gary posted this image of NYC harbor in the summer of 1962. If I had a time machine I'd go back to 1962 for a short visit. Everybody I ever loved would still be with us. That or just born or about to be. Our Empire was at it's height! Good King John was on the Throne.

Evil laws, and customs were being overthrow. 

We were sending up satellites everyday, and going to the Moon. 

Also the Flintstones were in their first season as well as the Jetsons. Many had good jobs. We had the largest middle class of any society in history. The schools worked. They were segregated, but kids still learned to read write, and knew the world was not flat. 

There was hope in the wind. 

The next year it would end. The JFK hit then endless wars social chaos rising seas burning forests.

However for one moment there was hope in our country.

"...defeat"

Night vision image of Maj. Gen. Donahue, commander of the US. Army 82nd Airborne Division. He is the last known American on duty service person to leave Afghanistan. The last to leave America's longest, and lost war. The mode of thinking the official political infrastructure that got us into a cycle of failed forever wars,...Vietnam Iraq Afghanistan is still there. There, and working over time on our next adventure.

"...Longer nights"

Today is September's Eve.

The change of season is again at hand.

In weeks to come the Summer heat will fade.

The first chilled evenings appear.

Then comes October, and for some the first frosts.

The Earth Abides.

"...kindly"

Uncle Sidney Remembers. #346.

I’ve just noted that Free Mason big shot Albert Pike’s statue has been smashed to pieces. The guy was a big wheel within the Masons, and a serious Kluxer. Worked hard to as he put it to, “…Preserve our sacred order from the Negro taint.”

My grand Uncle was with the Negro Masons.

I remember the aprons the whole deal. I especially remember the Mason’s Picnics held about this time of year. This back in the 1950’s. These were integrated,…in a way. We were there it was friendly.

However we ate among ourselves

We mostly…always exceptions, but we mostly didn’t play with the white children,…not allowed. The Negro delegation was allowed limited movement within the general area, but only so much.

They were very,…polite.

A neat part was the motored model ships. Of course I worked models into this. These were run in the lake there. This over in ‘Jersey forget exactly where. The colored kids were allowed to watch. We even mixed in the the white kiddies…imagine.

Every year there was the ship we all looked forward to…both negro, and white. There was this member who was a modeling fanatic. He built a large scale….four feet stem to stern model of a Fletcher Class WW2 destroyer.

I remember a vague story that he’s served on one during the war.

So separate, but equal worked fine,…for white people.

As for our hero Albert Pike. I understand he’s dead. I shall follow presently. When I meet him I shall kick him soundly in the balls. When I meet the guy that made that neat model I’ll thank him.

I remember him as a kindly person to us lads no matter the hue.

Back at that picnic seeing that fine ship. I imagined us all on the fantail of the Fletcher.

Singing Sea Chanties. Despite the Jim Crow a boy has dreams.

Sunday, August 29, 2021

"The Existential Angst of Robots"

"We're Trapped in a Meaningless Void."

"Everyday is as the One Before."

"They Lied to Me."

"I've Seen too Much."

"...rats"

Since you’re here there’s something else on my mind.

This country would be better off certainly more sane if it were smaller. We’re just too damned big violent, and crazy. We’ve got fifty tribes that insanely hate each other. A re-arraignment into autonomous regions might make sense. 
We'd be one country...w/nukes, and pay taxes to the same crooks like Canada, and Québec. This so nobody out there gets any funny ideas...we're looking at you Russia. However we'd be less in each other's faces. 

My region would have seven or eight states. New England, and a few others say New York Pennsylvania maybe Ohio. ...note I leave out New Jersey. They can join Alabama.
On the other hand Brooklyn could be it’s own nutty country. 
Our national crest, and flag above. I’d run for Congress or Empress or something. Our main exports would be grey market electronics bagels,…with mustard, ganja used bikes, and rats.

"...what goes around"

Now that da feds have come clean.

UFO Hunting Season Opens September First!

$50k Reward for a Grey.

$500k for a Saucer!

My Auntie, and Me was Abducted when I was Little.

I want some fucking payback.

"...Delta"

The Coney Island Mermaid's Parade.

In 2020, and 2021

it was canceled by the COVID/Delta Virus.

Even the tentative September smaller event

canceled because the Delta Virus

was far worse than expected.

We'll see about next year.

The times are so uncertain now.

Above parade from I think 2016 or so.

As I mentioned.

I stopped any observance of holidays years ago.

This Parade, and seeing friends at

Winter Solstice was all that's left.

Now even these are gone.

It was so much simpler when I was a drug addict.

Everyday was Christmas, and Halloween combined.

Throw in the odd overdose

what could go wrong?

Saturday, August 28, 2021

"...words"

My father taught me the love of words, and their meanings. I remember him at our kitchen table paging through the Webster's he got us. It was a big as a Gutenberg Bible, and just as precious. 'Took us from first grade through college. There he sat through the night with that great book. Searching learning immersed in the wonder of words.