Turning

Notice the metal mobile machine in front of you on the pavement.

The blinker flashes. The monster is determined to turn.

But which way?

The light indicates left....but that is across a traffic lane. Will it really make that move?

Watch the front of the machine. Does it turn left? Or does it pause??

Turning seems to be an uncertainty.

Watch next time you see a mobile machine turn. It will slow half way into the turn.
Why?

Are the occupants of the metal machine unsure of the direction they attend to go?

What is a turn?

A change of direction.

Traveling forward, then a decision to change direction.

But why do we change directions?

Are we traveling the wrong way? Do we need to adjust to a new path?

And why are we unsure of the direction change? Do we realize we may have made a mistake?

Life throws us lots of turns and we must be able to adjust to all of them.

As far as I can tell, centrifugal force carries me through ever turn.

You Missed The Kiss?

So after 3 days into the new year, let’s reflect into the last year. What happened of any importance?

Let’s stop before we get too far and take a look at 2007. Did anything happen that was worthy of note..... No, not much.

Move on to the end of the year and Christmas and New Years and all that. But this one was different. This one started with a surprise. A Christmas present no one could have imagined.

Few times do you get a chance to find a lost element of your life. To touch a dream that had disappeared. But this year was different.

And the new year was to be like no other. A simple walk, a simple talk, and yet a remarkable feeling. It was like being a teenager again.

But reality happens. Life is what it is and without open opportunities, dreams can only be dreams.

So she flew back to the south and I was left alone in the cold. Alone, but awake.

And my mind wandered into deep dark places. Places not ventured to regularly. Places not ventured frequently. Places that should be avoided after all these years.

But these thoughts filled my mind.

And a change was happening in my soul. There was more to life that must be experienced.

So I took this spirit that filled me and explored it. What was causing me to be crazier?

My mother had died the year before and the night it happened I walked out into the garden and stared at the stars. The clouds rushed past. Dark shapes drifting quickly by the dark blue sky. I watched for hours and wondered, “Why don’t I feel anything?” She was my mother. I don’t feel anything?

There were years of protection, cuddling, and overbearing, but it did not overcome the last years of drunken fits, screaming, wildness, and crazy behavior. How can a child take care of a crazy mother?

So the thought was “What was I feeling?”

Was there feeling for the family? Was there a family?

And what was I doing here now?

2008 began, What are the goals for the new year?

New glasses? Safe deposit box? 7- flat tires? A new computer? Link to the internet? Join Facebook? Start a blog? Find a girl friend??

Or get so frustrated at Valentine to run away from home. Cut out and check in to a hotel for a weekend of reflection. Maintain sanity and keep aloof.

Dig through the cold of winter and wait till Spring. Send notes, cards, emails, but come to the realization of life, even though friends and family note the change in discussing the beginning of the year.

Travel to town where both parents grew up and summers presented teaching school never taught. Seeing family who have not been seen in 40 years, all for a funeral. And the weird part was hitting on the daughter of the man who was being buried. My cousin who was smart enough to get away from the family early, but the clan kept him close. And seeing Whitey’s sons. Flashback to a chiseled face lad who tempted sun, waves, and life taught me a lot, introduced me to my first love, but did not win over troubles within.

Heat up the summer and continue on the Sunday 10 mile ride, with an occasional break for coffee with the wife of an old friend, or a cool drink at the local pub, or a quick lunch with an old girl friend of a friend of mine. And when that is not enough, sit at an ale house with an old friend and his niece and talk about going to jail and drinking at your parents house. Don’t do shots if you have a pacemaker.

Enjoy some time for creative thoughts. Sit with a writer, a real novel writer and discuss ideas for books on bands, concerts, parties, and Florida. Experiment with new software to record and burn CDs of old and new music. Some interesting results. Had to post them so why not make a YouTube movie.

And if that’s not enough, take a train ride up north to visit an old friend and his wife and dogs and house for a weekend. Sleep on his step daughter’s bed (there’s probably another book in there), cook out, buy alcohol, watch BIG screen TV, pizza, and burn a CD compilation with an amazing music collection surrounded by the Beatles.

All the while, the economy is dropping like a popped balloon, people are disappearing from the workplace. Stock drops, and 401K is cut in half. But the house is paid for.

And luckily the emails keep us all together. Many connections with old and new friends.

Even the t-shirt pool party and playing guitar with an old co-writer, it allowed him to sing and entertain the crowd, to the point of singing along with the Byrds’ front-man.

And the end of the year, I still have a job. I have a key to her heart. I have silver marching parade. I have health, but happiness may be fleeting.

To bring life into perspective, another friend who recently retired is in the hospital with tubes, air, and pumps working on his body, monitoring his life week after week.

So wait for the kiss and hopes that it comes. Close your eyes and dance with me.

What We Are Supposed To Be

“ I think that in human evolution it has never been as necessary to have this substance LSD. It is just a tool to turn us into what we are supposed to be. ”

Albert Hofmann,

Albert Hofmann (January 11, 1906 – April 29, 2008) was a Swiss scientist best known for having been the first to synthesize, ingest and learn of the psychedelic effects of lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD). Hofmann authored more than 100 scientific articles and wrote a number of books, including LSD: My Problem Child. On January 11, 2006, Hofmann became a centenarian, and the occasion of his 100th birthday was the focus of an international symposium on LSD.

Hofmann was born in Baden, Switzerland, the first of four children born to factory toolmaker Adolf Hofmann and his wife Elisabeth (née Schenk). Due to his father's low income, Albert's godfather paid for his education. When his father fell ill, Hofmann took up a position as a commercial apprentice in concurrence with his studies. At the age of twenty, Hofmann began his chemistry degree at the University of Zürich, finishing three years later, in 1929. His main interest was the chemistry of plants and animals, and he later conducted important research regarding the chemical structure of the common animal substance chitin, for which he received his doctorate, with distinction, in 1930.

Hofmann joined the pharmaceutical-chemical department of Sandoz Laboratories (now Novartis), located in Basel as a co-worker with professor Arthur Stoll, founder and director of the pharmaceutical department. He began studying the medicinal plant squill and the fungus ergot as part of a program to purify and synthesize active constituents for use as pharmaceuticals. His main contribution was to elucidate the chemical structure of the common nucleus of Scilla glycosides (an active principal of Mediterranean Squill). While researching lysergic acid derivatives, Hofmann first synthesized LSD-25 in 1938. The main intention of the synthesis was to obtain a respiratory and circulatory stimulant (an analeptic). It was set aside for five years, until April 16, 1943, when Hofmann decided to take another look at it. While re-synthesizing LSD, he accidentally absorbed a small quantity through his fingertips and serendipitously discovered its powerful effects before his bicycle ride home. Three days later, on April 19, Hofmann deliberately consumed 250 micrograms of LSD. This was followed by a series of self-experiments conducted by Hofmann and his colleagues. He first wrote about these experiments on April 19 of that year stating he experienced effects that included; "remarkable restlessness, combined with a slight dizziness" and "an extremely stimulated imagination".

Hofmann became director of the natural products department at Sandoz and went on studying hallucinogenic substances found in Mexican mushrooms and other plants used by the aboriginal people. This led to the synthesis of psilocybin, the active agent of many "magic mushrooms." Hofmann also became interested in the seeds of the Mexican morning glory species Rivea corymbosa, the seeds of which are called Ololiuhqui by the natives. He was surprised to find the active compound of Ololiuhqui, ergine (lysergic acid amide), to be closely related to LSD.

In 1962, he and his wife Anita traveled to southern Mexico to search for the plant "Ska Maria Pastora" (Leaves of Mary the Shepherdess), later known as Salvia divinorum. He was able to obtain samples of this plant but never succeeded in identifying its active compound which has since been identified as the diterpenoid Salvinorin A.

Albert Hofmann in 2006

In 1963, Hofmann attended the annual convention of the World Academy of Arts and Sciences (WAAS) in Stockholm.

Hofmann called LSD "medicine for the soul" and was frustrated by the worldwide prohibition that has pushed it underground. "It was used very successfully for 10 years in psychoanalysis," he said, adding that the drug was hijacked by the youth movement of the 1960s and then unfairly demonized by the establishment that the movement opposed. He conceded that LSD can be dangerous in the wrong hands.

In December 2007, Swiss medical authorities permitted a psychotherapist to perform psychotherapeutic experiments with patients who suffer from terminal stage cancer and other deadly diseases. Although not yet started, these experiments will represent the first study of the therapeutic effects of LSD on humans in 35 years, as other studies have focused on the drug's effects on consciousness and body. Hofmann supported the study, and continued to believe in the therapeutic benefits of LSD.

Hofmann was due to speak at the World Psychedelic Forum from March 21 to March 24, 2008 but was forced to pull out due to poor health.

Albert Hofmann died as a result of a natural causes on April 29, 2008 in the village of Burg im Leimental, near Basel, Switzerland. He was 102 years old

Albert Hofmann's autobiographical account of his experience with the hallucinogen is LSD: My Problem Child. Hofmann also co-authored The Road to Eleusis: Unveiling the Secret of the Mysteries (Hermes Press, 1998, North Atlantic Books, 2008), a collaborative effort with mycologist R. Gordon Wasson, and classical scholars Carl Ruck and Blaise Staples, which reveals the secret mystic elixir that is at the heart of the Eleusinian Mysteries and, therefore, fundamental to the development of Western civilization. Hofmann further describes the relevance of the Eleusinian Mysteries for today's world, and the application of psychedelic experience to the study of metaphysics, in essays published in Entheogens and the Future of Religion, (Council on Spiritual Practices, San Francisco, 1999); and discusses his relationship with LSD provocateur Timothy Leary in Outside Looking In (Park Street Press, Rochester, VT, 1999)

*Note: Mr. Hofmann was the age of my father. I can not imagine tripping with my dad, but it could have happened. So from a kid of the 60's who enjoyed your discovery, thanks.

And it shows how dangerous these drugs are. You could live to be 102!

Comics

OK you comic geeks. I never followed comics the rags that were stacked in the drug store and the grocery store showing guys in tights and capes saving the world from the Nazis and Japs and whatever came along. Superman (although I did wear the t-shirt), Batman, Spider Man, and all those Justice dudes.

I had a friend in elementary school who could draw Superman. Detailed Superman. We did a class project of a Roman mosaic, but all the characters looked like Superman figures.

But the mid-60's caught my attention with the UNDERGROUND COMICS. These were the comics with political movement I agreed with.

So here are some of the examples of the poorly printed but exciting comics that kept my college years entertained.

Robert Crumb created the street wise collection of characters. Down to earth and straight forward. And a little dirty. "Zap", "Mr. Natural", "Whiteman", the list goes on and on.




Gilbert Sheton's "Wonder Wart-Hog" was a fearless, fighting foul mouth wonder hero, but who would have come up with a Wart-Hog super hero? Must have been the drugs, right Art?


Larry Welz's "Captain Guts" was America's Savior. Socking it to those wild hippies and political radicals while being controlled by beer to make him a super hero.


Gilbert Shelton's "Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers" captured the hairy guys who hung out together and did dope and thought about doing more dope in the roaches and cats and dirt of 60's apartments.


Don Dohler's "ProJunior" was a left over from the 40's. Here was a kid growing up with white eyes and no confidence. Sound familar? Lots of artist in the Kitchen Sink Enterprises did take offs like Mr. Crumb, Evert Geradts, Jayzey Lynch, Jim Mitchell, Peter Loft, Ned Sonntag, Wendel Pugh, Bruce Walthers, Dale Kuipers, Justin Green, Skip Williamson, Joel Beck, andBill Griffith. I'm sure there were others.


Will Eisner's "Spirit" has returned to the movie and possible DVD vision of a 40's crime fighter. Great graphics and very, very sexy.


Milton Moose's "Myron Moose" with his poor sinus problem and association to great classics. Must be a Canadian thing. Very dark and well adjusted.


Jim Mitchell's "Smile" characters of drugs, and sex, and happiness showed so much promise, that he is in the comic pages of daily newspapers.


Corben's detailed life after the end of the human race caught our imagination. Also the women were more than endowed.


Vaughn Bode" Junkwaffel" and "Sunpot" and much more showed creatures in space trying to face the ever present fear of death.



I'll let you Google and search for these artist and more who filled the pages of cheap prints like Print Mint, Rip Off Press, Apex Novelties, Smut Peddlers of America, Kitchen Sink Enterprises, and others providers of printing to young artist.

I tried to enter this realm during the early 70's with a character named "Roger Wilco" and his sidekick Wooden Indian. His big agenda was he only had 4-fingers, like Micky Mouse. More on that later.

So enjoy your fantasy and new artist will create worlds of magic that every reader will get lost in.

Unfortunately it will not be on ink and paper and a drawing board, rather than a mouse and computer screen.

Happy Birthday Jesus

December 25, 2008

Another holiday. Another Christmas.

Wake up at 10, after a night up til 4:00 a.m., waiting for the paperboy to come by so I can give him a $20 gift card and some cookies. He looked surprise.

Sunny day. And warm. The kind of day that makes you look through the dusty window, past the bamboo and want to get out.

But the late night and the amount of alcohol has slowed my responses.

A night of working on a calendar for a laid off friend, a night spent working on a Christmas video for YouTube, a night looking thorough some old notes and books. Christmas eve
I believe they call it.

So today was spent avoiding the chatter of the Gilmore Girls, watching and feeding the yard critters, watching the sunshine reflect on the wooden beamed walkway. A day spent making a guitar Christmas CD.

Last year this time I was as giddy as a schoolboy. But time marches on.

So as families sit beside the fire, opening packages, and sharing the warmth of each other, I will enjoy the day.

Happy birthday Jesus. Enjoy the day.

Vacation Slug

Winter vacations are rough. The weather is cold. The sky is gray. The rain continues and does not evaporate. The wind blows. Yuck!

So with all the plans and things-to-do before the holiday season, television and music become the filler for no motivation.

The dark morning is broken by "Light" and a blinding brightness awakening the frosty air. With only a corner of a blanket and the bottom spread pull up off the corner and used for a sheet, you eyes don't open as cats bounce off your frozen body. As the dog stands under her blanket you hear "Coffee!" Sitting up, adjusting your hoodie sweatshirt, pulling at invisible covers, the television starts to blare "The Morning News".

"Sit up!" you slide you body up against the wall of pillows, still pulling whatever scraps of blankets and throws piled in mountains across the bed. The wind rustles the bamboo against the window air conditioner through the frost on the inside of the window.

The first sip of coffee is interrupted by two women chattering. It's the "Gilmore Girls" and the angst of a teen girl and her single mother with more money, funky parents, wacky boyfriends, Yale, crazy band, greasy diner, small town intrigue and things-to-say than anyone could imagine coming from two people at one time.

With the cuddly kittens crawling back under the covers and purring the sleepy rumble against the small speaker spewing constant conversation, the eyelids become heavy. Just a few more minutes.

Finally you can not take it anymore and must drag your body out of the bed. Slipping on heelless shoes sliding down the hall past the wallboard door and the litter room to open the flash of cold in the bathroom.

The hole in the wall behind the skin always lets you know what season you are in. The shower curtain blows in the breeze coming under the window pane frosted inside and out. Pour the bucket in the bowl to flush and place it back in the dropping faucet.

Pull off the over sized gray sweat pants and pull up the hole ridden dirt warn blue jeans over the dark blue long johns. Strap on the suspenders and re-load the dark gray sweatshirt over a thin gray t-shirt then another gray heavier sweatshirt on top, Gray homemade wool socks and old tennis shoes that are not really tennis shoes but I still use the term. They are actually "sports" shoes with walking treads, but don't do as much walking with arch supports and gel cushion. Slap on the VCU black baseball cap, although it has never played baseball and off into the world.

Pull the handle on the backdoor and over the crumbling porch, down the plastic steps to the walkway of timbers , gaps off rotten out wood, slippery from the rain.

Squeeze open the squeaky door to the spider web strewn studio and smell the mold. Spring is how many months away?

Time for the daily trip to the grocery store. Time to get the blood moving around the body. Got to shake off the slug.

Point down the Big Blue down the walkway made from a 6-foot fence and past the goldfish sitting dormant in the cool air. Up the gravel alley to the street, mount the saddle, and slid on tight gloves while you take in the sky and direction of clouds.

Turn right and glide onto the wet pavement. Listen for the traffic patterns as you roll toward the stoplight which is always red. Coast down the hill past the Westmoreland Lake and check the mirror to make sure there is room between you and the massive mobile machines and the mounds of slippery brown slushy leaves. It could be worst, it could be snow. Slow at the next stoplight and take a breath.

And today, after an evening and morning of rain, caused a pilgrimage of young and old alike, traveling with a uniform attention to a Kroger grocery store. Pushing carts, driving massive mobile machines, walking, talking to roaches in their ears, bringing their children, all moving toward the place of food and warmth.

As I locked up, a young woman walked pass me and under her dark glasses with a smile said "Good day for a ride". I looked up surprised at the comment and responded, "Yes, and the sun came out." Doesn't take much to make my day.

Back home and television and computer and music. Don't look at the stack of stuff you need or want to do. Don't go through your pack with the notes from weeks before. Don't even plug in the digital converter box for the DTV test, which none of the televisions passed.

Put on headphones and listen to the dozen of Beatle covers and original out takes or original poems put to primitive guitar and teen angst. Oh, that again.

Watch the comments of friends on Facebook, happy to see a new friend, and check out old music videos on YouTube.

What a way to waste a week.

But, now it's time to shake it off, rub some dirt in it, back to work, pay some bills, and get ready to end one weird year and start an unsure other one.

May the slug release me

and let me get back to

energy,

imagination,

and life.

Christmas Parade

After 25 years, I enjoy watching Richmond's last parade. Marching bands, floats, city notables riding in open top cars, clowns, flags, and balloons.

For years there have been parades of military drill teams and R.O.T.C. students marching down Broad Street to crowds of children sitting on the curbs and waving at their brothers and sisters.

Floats covered with paper flowers, pretty girls in gowns waving and smiling to the sidewalks filled with fathers and mothers presenting their children to the season. Trucks pulling the floats are covered with signs advertising their dealerships, showing their community involvement to sell more cars.

In earlier days, there were radio disc jockeys, Miss Richmond beauty queen, a little guy in a red coat and black hat calling out "Call for Phillip Morris" while football players threw out free packs of cigarettes. Even floats of the Literary Club of John Marshell High School and the cheerleaders of Thomas Jefferson High School .

And this year with over 100 entries, there was no entry by the local newspaper? Still the marching bands, floats, trolleys, smiling faces, and clowns, but not presence of the local city newspaper.

Is this the future?

25 years ago I did the artwork for the logo as a pro-bono job for the Jaycees.

If nothing else comes out of this season, I can still enjoy the parade. It makes the town I live in smile for a few hours, even in the cold.

Happy Holidays.