All I Have To Do Is Dream...

Tired more so than normal. Apparently this old body takes A LOT longer to recover from  longer hours, than my use to eight hours. Funny how we get use to a set schedule! At this stage in my life and working the dreaded graveyard shift. I MUST keep a regular schedule. I am physically and mentally more in tune, or it seems to me that way!
I read recently where getting enough sleep and the very important dream state is vital for mind and body. I'll vouch for that or give that a big AMEN! I recognize that from the crazy hours I work.When I feel better is after a sounds night's, oops! (day's rest) Waking up feeling rested seems rare! Does 'anyone' wake up feeling rested?
Do you experienced 'sleep paralysis?' It's those times that I experience sleep paralysis and wake up within a dream. I wake up feeling the most alive. I have been doing this more now than in my entire life. The dreams are absolutely amazing. That overwhelming experience is undescribeable. I slowly awake as the dream plays out and when completely awake, those feelings linger for several minutes. I notice my body is cold and my heart rate seems rather slow. 
The dreams are magnificent and wish I had time to write them as soon as I am completely awake. Unfortunately these moments are the moments I do not have time, I must go to work. Fortunately some are so embedded that I can keep the emotions experienced within these dreams. The story The Golden City is one of these.
Another most interesting thing I have noticed is, if I do not eat anything before going to bed these dreams are more prevalent. Humm, reckon there may be something to this fasting thing?
I have been eating much better for a few months now, maybe it all ties in together somehow, seems most logical to me, but I am not Vulcan such as Spock. My body may be rewarding me with unexpected side effects! Of which I find WONDERFUL! I want more and these encounters and my new lease on life is giving me more stories than I can write. My mind is on overload status but in a good, magnifico way! I have been reading novels with a zest not felt in a long, long time!

(((I HAVE ENOUGH TROUBLE TYPING, THE KITTEN JUST STEPPED ON MY KEYBOARD AND IS EATING THE EDGE OF A BOOK, SHEESH WHAT ONE HAS TO PUT UP WITH!!!))) 

My meds are kicking in, that means my mind is going south, or more south than normal. Damn who drank my tea, damn ghosts! Oh, oh, oh! I reckon it were me. Excuse me as I get a mite more, caffeine free and splenda. WHO WOULD OF EVER THUNK IT TO BE SO WITH ME? Please hold...... (SNORING)   

The Golden City (Part One)

PLEASE BEAR WITH ME, THIS STORY I HAVE BEEN WRITING FOR A SPELL HAS TAKEN COUNTLESS TWISTS AND TURNS. MAYBE THERE'S NO REASON FOR A SERIOUS STORY BASED ON TWO DREAMS, AND ASPECTS OF LIFE TO FLOW IN A ORGANIZED MANNER, IS THERE? NOT WITH ME!!! IT SEEMS IMPORTANT TO LAY A FOUNDATION FOR WHERE I ULTIMATELY WISH TO CONCLUDE WITH AN ACTUAL DREAM. I FEAR, THAT IF I DO NOT POST WHAT I HAVE, IT WILL END UP IN THE NEVER ENDING UNCOMPLETED POST SECTION OF WHICH WAY TOO MANY OF MY DREAMS, STORIES, SEEM TO BE GOING. I CAN WRITE MY STORIES ONLY WHEN MY MIND IS RELAX AND FREE.
COMING HOME AFTER 'A HARD DAY'S NIGHT,' I HUMOROUSLY, YET ACTUALLY WORK, FINDS MY MIND IN A DIFFERENT WORLD ALTOGETHER. THIS MOOD WHICH I HAVE LEARNED TO WORK WITH ALLOWS A BETTER DEEPER SLEEP, OF WHICH I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL! MY WAY OF RELAXING, SELF-MEDICATING MEDITATION!

************************************************************************

Every night the man sits at his computer, a hobby realised only upon retirement. His body suffers from life's agonies, a factory laborer whom simply cannot do the labor, any longer! Forced to retire, body worn out. Favorite hobbies also require physical abilities he no longer has. Back rigid, joints arthritic. Planting and tending the garden takes all his effort and commitment, at least for a little while each day he can feel the sunshine upon his torn, tattered body, daydreaming of what once was!  No mind to complaining, he and his spouse, have fallen into a workable schedule of basic daily activities that fill the days, without knowing or needing to know what day of the week it is. No longer relevant in the days of sameness one is blessed with, or must endure. Once finding the time in a busy day to read the newspaper, has become a walk to the paper box, a reason to get out of the house plus a couple hours scouring every inch. Now and only 'now' does he have the time to read between the lines, so to speak! He see so much untruth's, partial truth's, wrongs that went overlooked in the younger days. Why now when energy is sapped? It cuts deeply with no place to go! Sitting around the Senior Center discussing what's wrong with the world pays no dividends. Young look upon the old folks as standing in the way of their entitlements. Sadly that thought makes it worse as one questions at what shape it's being left to them!

Books newspaper harder to read with aging, ever falling eyesight, need more light or the light just right, but still enjoyable, non the less. Everything has slowed down to match the strides of aging. Once a meal was fast to gulp down and get on with activities. Now its an hour to kill! Once a man, by what one could do! Now the flip side is !!!

Many discussions with your spouse, when no longer able to feed, dress, carrying on minimal daily  affairs, other than taking care of each other, life no longer worth while. When one is full of youthfulness, such conversations are not important. Only after a once sound body fades does reality, really, take hold. Continual disintegration of one's, such as relatives, friends through accidents, alcohol, illness, does one's eyes open, leaving the inevitable, indelibly stamped! Childhood cartoons and Disney movies are replaced by the continual downward spiral. Real world has not perfect endings.

Countless funerals attended over one's life, accompanied with sermons of the love ones going to a far better place, carries little solace, no matter how prepared, one is. Children cannot grasp funerals, only to understand someone has left never to be seen again. The memories of love ones lost, etched forever inside their hearts.

( He personally remembers losing a young sister at the age of six. She was less than two years old. Losing his true father figure at the age of twelve, forever changed the balence of childhood, it disappeared! Those who lost love ones early, understand the never ending questions? It changes one, forces one to grow up too fast. One day a child with childhood simplicities, then a life is gone the innocence lost, childhood's gone, obstacles linger, never to be understood!

Young one's are so full of life to be tamed! Does the lion tamer, tame? "I think not!"  Ah! To be 18 again and full of looking forward! It passes, "don't it!"

Marriage, children, living life as well as one's able too! Before you know it, the body reflects signs of aging. Brush it off, too much going on, to slow down. Friends, relatives, die off from accidents, illness, life most assuredly, 'always wins,' when its time, "ITS time!"

Another birthday, mind's as clear as ever, a lifetime under the belt, he chuckles "and a bigger belt, with more years to come, but hopefully not a still larger belt." Yet, the birthday seems harder, heavier, somehow laughing once again, "its only, one more day," but feeling it more, so much more, obstacles of life continually stack up. If you're to live, to the average age,  many more are to come, sadly deterioration and age comes way too fast!

Doctors, medicines are more now than ever. It's the building up of all, "the ever increasing tartar of life" as he laughs once more at that thought.

After the body forces you to take it easy, when you would rather be doing all the fun stuff you once knew, life has slowed down so much you and your spouse no longer discuss the thing you once did openly, however; you know the time will come and when one passes, it won't be long for the other. Seems both are hanging on willing time until!!!!   

MORE TO COME LATER AS TIME AND MOOD ALLOWS!    Your pal here at GLEN VIEW  

Mrs. Wright Tries Teaching Me To Write, Right!

I'm working on some short stories that originally held a rather short idea. For whatever reason them short stories keep getting longer! At what point does a short story become a long story? Or does a short story stay a short story until you have so much it becomes a short book. I reckon I'm plum confused, but that ain't nothing new now is it?  The one story I wish to complete is tentatively titled 'The Golden City' about a dream. (It was one hell of a dream, if I may say so!)

Okay what is new out there in the world? I have intentionally curtailed my newspaper addiction. My blood pressure elevates just looking upon Politicians. I got rid of that television news a long time ago. The only tv I watch is an occasional pre-recorded movie. A friend gave me The Green Lantern. I remember the comic book with him as a child, so I reckon I'll watch it. Just so you'll understand how much I watch tv is I still have one of them old tube type tv's. Shucky derns that's plenty good enough for me. As long as that Green Lantern is green, that'll be right's good!

My mission is to read and learn to write. Seems easy enough hey? If one has read all their life then one should be able to write right, right?

ALERT! ALERT! I just wrote something that makes perfect sense to me but I hear my eighth grade English teacher MRS. Wright saying inside my head "Glen you know that is not right! Didn't you do your English work book?"

Well this is what I would tell her. NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA! "I DON'T CARE THIS IS MY BLOG AND YOU GET OUTTA MY HEAD, MRS. WRIGHT!"

I have a friend that told me "you have to know the rules in order to break them!"

He be talking about all them rules that I never learned during twelve years of schooling, what in the world makes him think a 60 year old man is a gonna learn them now! Poor silly college educated mechanical engineer! OOPS! Hope he don't read this, nah, he be too smart! Ah, ha, ha, ha! 

Is Mr. Spock gonna do a Vulcan Mind Melt and give me properess or something! That be the only way this here old man gonna l-e-a-r-n what he ain't learned!

Mr' Spock go poking his mind into my mind, he'll be looking completely spaced out into deep space the rest of his life and Bones will not be able to help him! (Sorry I watched the reruns of Star Trek many years ago, I humbly apoligize!)   (( I made myself laugh or it might be my meds! I typed I humbly apoligige!!! hahaha! 

Damn baby! I'm nuttier than last year's fruit cake at Christmas and almost as old!

I betcha there be a lot of college ones that ain't using their learned learning and be a making $$$$'s from their smarts. They ain't fooling this old country boy none. Them Politicians hire the best speech writers $$$$'s can buy. Them speech writers have them smarter than me people salivating at the proper-prettiness of the words a coming out of them Politicians mouth's. You actually think them Ivy League Politicians write their speeches. Man oh man, you just have to talk right pretty or be an actor like Ronald Reagan. How in the world Richard Nixon ever become pesident, I don't know!!!

Gosh darn it! I plum went off on a tirade! Sorry former presidents and all you millionaire pretty writing writers. 

Well I forgot what it was I was gonna say before Mrs Wright done messed me up! See what all this attempting to go by the rules has done to me! One messed up old man! I'll just betcha there is a lot of people who love to read that can't write worth a hoot!

You know what them smarty pants educators with all them letters behind all their years of higher learning are talking about doing here in my state? There's talk of no longer teaching school children how to write. They call it cursive. Lord have mercy! Some of them kids sure know all them curse words and some I don't know. They be creating their own language anyway called texting.

Excuse me a few seconds so as I can go back and see if I had something I wanted to say BUT per usual got sidetracked........ 

WELL MY GOAL IS TO KEEP MY STILL ALIVE AND KICKING HARD IMAGINATION, ALIVE! I reckon some good, proper, right, writing will have to rub off, sooner or later, ya rekon? NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA! If it does it does, if it don't, it don't. Mean while I'm having more fun than a crazy old hoot should! Y'ALL COME BACK NOW YA HERE!   (Damn I hope my buddy Ah-Clem don't read this! NO it don't matter he already knows I'm NUTS!!!!)     Glen! 

HANDICAPS AND INVIGORATING BREEZES

I best warn you about something I do. Well you see I sure ain't been trained in any of this writing fun/therapy/silliness 'whatever'! I'm sure you have said something to yourself! You see that's what makes this here foray into this hobby so dad burn fun AND I wish to explain in more detail.

I will  be writing along and a song or an old saying jumps to the storefront of my brainee. Example last post "the green apple and it don't rain in Indianapolis" also "a hard day's night." There are reason sub-stupidly that I wrote this and those of you that partake upon my silliness can probably read between the lines. I also like making my own words. Most probably causin of my significant hearing impediment that leads to writing predicaments!

For those of you in other countries, I have no idea how it translates. I'm a combination poor hillbilly on my father's side with more challenged ones than you can shake a stick at. (That be old timers saying meaning a lot.) My daddy he had more problems in his head than there are crazy ones here in my home town of Daisyville! Yep, I'm trying to cure myself from his hold on me to this day.

Well now ... me mother is as fine an Angel as ever lived! I love her MORE than everything I've ever loved in my life all rolled into one. She and she alone is proof to me that there is a higher power!

As I write this little post I realize, although the handicaps of one parent has been made up for in my life by, my mother, siblings and my wife who possesses a beautiful soul, as close to my mother's as one might get. Sure life ain't a bed of roses by no means! But if one can navigate through the storms, finding them calm waters with light gentle, invigorating breezes, lessons are ascertained, RIGHT! DAMN TOOTIN!!!

Damn, I'm rambling but that be me truly. I be a practicing on ya hoping one day to capture the stories I wish to write. Ya see, I'ssa needa a lotta practice! But iffa I'ssa having fun and ain't hurting NOBODY, hopefully giving a smile to your day whom am I hurting?

GOODNIGHT MY FRIENDS IF I DON'T PUBLISH THIS WILL BE JUST ANOTHER HODGEPODGE OF OTHER POSTS I'VE NOT FINISHED FOR TOMORROW'S A NEW DAY AND WE NEVER KNOW WHAT IT BRINGS OR THOUGHTS WE MIGHT POSSESS.... DO WE?

Kitty

Man oh man, am I tired! How dare employers make an old man work overtime so another employee can take a vacation? Let me examine the logic behind this? I thought the whole idea of having part time employees was to eliminate paying overtime of which they pay me time and a half. So you make a man with more seniority, so's a man with lesser seniority can take a vacation. Maybe it's just me, but don't make no sense at all! From a money and accounting standpoint makes no sense. I don't want the overtime, don't get me wrong the money comes in handy. Long hours does not agree with me in my old age.

Oh crikey! I'm trying to eliminate negativity and this kind of talk! Please forgive me as I'm only human and have aggravated an old sciatic thing-a-ma-jig. Let's see if I can change the subject.

Caught myself looking at the newspaper, old habits are hard to break AIN'T THEY? "To read OR not to read that be the question, whether it be better for me to or not to!"

What the hell was that? You see how tired I be! This be my way of relaxing and exorcising the evil of the todayness. (That ain't a word but allow an old tired man this okey-dokey.) (( I really be TIRED, I go back and reread that todayness sentence .... it actually makes sense!))

What am I gonna write about? I don't think this old turkey carcass of a brain has been picked completely clean yet! (Aw come on, don't tell me, this old tired man has to explain that to ya?)

I am sitting here at the computer typing with one hand, why? The other hand is busy fighting with the cat. There be's no rest! Actually it's fun! This cat is something else mind-ya.. I can't never remember its name.. I just call it Kitty, original I know! Its name is Eshack, Meshack, Abendigo or something to that effect! You see why I call her Kitty now, DON'T YA?

Well I may as well tell a little story about Kitty since I opened my brain a mite. Less than two years ago a female kitten appeared around our house in late summer. Well we feed it and since we didn't have any cats at that one particular moment in history, we let it stay. We said "we must get her fixed," too late! Since we have a few acres and a barn, oh well! That little She Devil had five. We fixed all of them and the outside ones roam and do whatever outside or barn cats do! Well the runt of the litter is Kitty and them others have them Bible names you see. Kitty has wrestled with my left hand and fell asleep with her paws wrapped around it. Oh well, she has taken away the uneasiness of a worn out old man. I move my fingers and her tail moves, she purrs, her paws still holding on to me. This way of relaxing seems good to me and Kitty.         

BEGONE...

Another day here in Daisyville. You know I been thinking MIGHTY HARD about writing my exact thoughts and my exact experiences that I actually come across or witness or work through. It is my intention not to belittle or down or make fun of BUT!!! I could not make up stories as good as what I actually experience. You know that Ripley's thing "truth is stranger than fiction!" Damn that be for sure!

I can not bring myself to do it YET! I want to, I WANT TO BAD! I continue to stop myself  .... because .... well ... the feeling of being made fun off as a kid is still bleeds within my mind. So I reckon I will use some real ding-a lings that I encounter in pure fictionalized form in some of my short stories.

I'm doing good on my change of eating. Eating better feeling better. I wish to address a habit I have had since I learn to read. You see I cut my teeth on reading ANYTHING and EVERYTHING as I was putting these letters together in understandable fashion. A door opened and I truly fell in love, no other way to say it! This habit I wish to break is the reading of the daily newspaper. I love holding the newspaper and reading  SOME of the stories, yes I do! The stories worth reading are few and far between, hidden between so much nonsense. I do love the funnies and will miss them. I must go cold turkey!

Why am I doing this? In my new world of information of the world at my fingertips. I have found myself perusing the catchy silliness of the never ending bombardment of the information highway. These headlines that have taken over the newspapers, the mass media of the local and world news by a select few. They're attempting to take over the inter-net as surely as God didn't make little green apples and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time. I wean myself from the television, especially the news programs and the weather channel. I decided if I want to know what the weather is outside today, I'll just walk outside. Why in the hell do we need 24 hour a day weather news for, HUH!

Sorry, I got on a roll. I wish to do away with as much mind numbing brainwashing and manipulation as possible. Begone! In the search for me I don't want to find anyone but me! I wish to think for myself and not let outside manipulators with their agendas into my world. I really do think ... I already have enough lunatics and crazies within the cozy confines of Glen View to last the rest of my life.

Besides, I absolutely DO NOT want NOBODY but ME to come out! I know, I know, I'm probably scaring the crap outta you!

My future desire is to write stories of which I have a plenty, many incomplete. The dilemma I find myself a facing is this. The kind of stories I most love to write, a most recent example is 'The Mercedes' earlier this month. I come home one night after work in an extremely relaxed state of being. Rarely after a hard day's night am I in this peaceful frame of mind. When this happens it's wonderful ... magnificent! This story pops out. This is where I wish to go and am committed to working towards this goal. My problem is, if I don't complete the story while I'm in that ... zone so to speak the story is lost.

So I'm working on myself physically, mentally, spiritually. Anyhow that's where I wish to go. PLEASE STAY TUNED TO GLEN VIEW. HOPEFULLY I'M JUST GETTING STARTED!   Your friend Glen.

"Crazy As A Loon!"

It's late night an old man gets ready to go to bed. What does he do well if you're a regular old man you probably put on your pajamas brush your teeth, if you still have any, relieve your overactive bladder, let the dog out, turn off all the lights, check the doors, locking your poor 14 year old poochie out and get into bed. Then you realize you forgot something, uh yeah, the dog!

Well I ain't no regular old man, you see! I take my nighttime sleepy-poo meds and where do I go? Yep to the computer. I have about 90 minutes before my brain stops and I must jump into bed. I start typing whatever is on my mind, yep ... yep... yep! It be my personal meditation + that medication don't do no harm. (OOPSEY I FEAR IT DONE, DONE THE DAMAGE SO'S I ROLL WITH IT!) I clean out the drains that may of got plugged up working here in Daisyville. Some days my drain needs rotor-rootering from what I encounter. On these days I must use the industrial strength mind aleviator my Doctor prescribed. I take me a double shot of "Mind Run Free", then I shake my head a few times go "whoooo" and I be ready! Ready for my fingers to do some walking, talking, telling, typing, WHATEVER! Sometimes I get wound up and testify. Yes I do! Sometimes I be plum silly! That's alright mama, ain't it? Sometimes I feel like telling me a story! Sometimes I be mad! I don't mean crazy mad you already know I'm CRAZY. I've heard the phrase "as crazy as a loon," what in tarnation is a loon anyhow? 

Well such as I really ain't got nothing to say, how-za bout-a I look this here word loon up! Well seems I hit the mother lode here boys and girls. Loon, a clumsy, stupid person, a crazy person. Yep, I sure have known a fair amount of loons in my lifetime. I swear I see them EVERYWHERE I go! They be everywhere here in my hometown of Daisyville. If it continues at the rate it has I reckon we will have to rename it CRAZYVILLE, CLUMSYVILLE or my personal favorite, STUPID-PERSON-VILLE! Do you just reckon it be something in the water, them sugary drinks that the Mayor of N. Y. wants to limit, or the pesticide shit or all them new seeds being developed in these hidden laboratories.........................

Side note here********** What do you reckon them Mad Scientist be a-makin in them deep underground caverns. Genetically altered seeds I'll betcha ain't the only thing a brewin in these laboratories!

Well lookee her loon is also fish eating diving birds with a sharp bill and webbed feet, found mainly in subarctic regions: noted for its weird cry.

Well I'll Be darn, where else you gonna learn all these things, cepting fer here in Glen's neighborhood. AH, HA, HA, HA, HA! Goodnight now ya here!

A THOUGHT OR TWO ...

I feel at loss. Having recently completed the book Crime and Punishment. I am sad! The book was beautiful in ways I've never experienced before. "Why?" I ask myself.

Crime and Punishment was admittingly hard originally, endearing myself to, at around 100 pages I almost gave up.

I ask myself "why am I reading this book now at this time in my life?

Then I answered my own question "perhaps fate is playing into my hand somehow, do not question it go with the it!"

So I tolled on for awhile and was glad I did! This book should not be read as one might read a newspaper, a magazine or casually reading wih children scurrying about, television blaring. This book is to be read in an relaxing environment, mentally free. It's that brillant! Maybe the fact that one has to face life, achieving reference points.

I stopped reading books for a couple years. My endeavor into finding myself through an unexplainable intense desire to put what runs sometimes rather wildly through my mind to words, has been the greatest challenge/reward of my life. I have never developed that stick-to-it-iveness in my life. You know something that you want s-o-o-o bad, you just keep plugging away. If something got too tough or challenging I would recoil, finding safe harbor riding out the fear of the imaginary insurmountable waves.

I made numerous attempts, all failures over many years. Giving up but the fire would not go out.

I think to myself  "what in the world are you thinking, don't know how to type, never used a computer before, English was my most feared and misunderstood class!"

Against all odds a story plays out in my mind beginning in a dream and plays itself in detail within that semi awakeness. I knew I had to write this story based on an actual place I walked through many years earlier. The story become's the short story 'THE FLAME' which I have written five chapters of, this year. I see I am rambling that's me for sure. 

It does, and doesn't make any sense! How so? I dare say "everyone has infinite thoughts, even the not so beautiful, hold meaning. Expressing ones innermost thoughts is most delightful, if we can express them in an intelligible understandable manner. Quite possibly the most meaningful thought provoking yet helpful lines may be considered dark, so we don't like thinking them, let alone write upon. We perceive as too bad to think, most assuredly to write! Rather the everyday trials and tribulations that sometimes become an anchor we cannot break free of.

Aah! That's where we go wrong. We taught or assume we should not speak let alone think upon our most inner self. So we harbor it and file it under forget. Yeah right, rung after rungs are applied through life, do they go away? Nope, nada, not hardly!!!
THE LIGHT SWITCH JUST WENT OUT ON MY MIND SO I'M HITTING POST ... GOODNIGHT MY FRIENDS.   GLEN

Seems Somehow Important!

I been doing some serious thinking. Yes sometimes even the silliest do that. I have tried to stop because the gears upstairs don't get as much oil pumped to them like when I was a young lean machine. Seems like only yesterday I was day dreaming in class and the bell would wake me up to go to another class. I absolutely looved school until the seventh grade then many things seem to hit, all around the same time  wrecking havoc on my learning. It was no longer about learning, but about survival, getting my diploma. Up until that point it was a child eager to learn. Then when a young man comes about, well things look different somehow. My imagination was still active but I felt as though a man with adult thinking overriding a child's simplistic views of life. I won't go into the details but as I look back at the turning point I did change.

I question myself tonight as I take my Sunday AM ride. It's mid seventies with a light southern breeze a good night to ride, enjoy, ponder. Why at this ungodly hour would a normal man be out. Well I won't go into all the particulars, I find solitude, in between the 'late nighter's' heading home from wherever. The early morning weekend crowd such as boaters, weekend travelers and such are preparing for a day of leisurely splashing the breaking of the water upon their faces during noon times of ninety degrees. Families taking summer trips or picnicking whatever.

The in between time I feel as one with the earth. Makes no difference if it's a harvest moon or  total darkness, for a fraction of time the world seems all mine. I drive upon the same roads I once traveled as a thirteen year old riding his trusty Schwinn bicycle. I rode that trusty steed for many years everywhere. My black stallion, whether going to school, to a weekend movie at the only movie house in town or passing my paper route, making a few dollars. You see if it wasn't for that basic black old Schwinn bicycle my dreams, my imagination would surely be curtailed a plenty. A trusted companion of many, many years that never let me down, even though I looked upon a beautiful shiny red riding pony of which I did buy on payments at the local B. F, Goodrich Store. My grandpa co-signed for me. I rode that red beauty with built in battery headlights, it was the Cadillac or Lincoln automobile for a young man. I did not ride it to the movies for fear someone would steal it. I did not ride it to school for the same reason. It was my weekend ride so to speak, I kept it in the garage. Everyday my trusty Schwinn was the workhouse, I fixed many a flat tire on my daily rider, carried a tire repair kit on my Schwinn. In them days there were service stations every where, so I would walk to the station for free air and lickety split me and 'Rusty Trusty' never missed a gallop. Through all kinds of weather be it below zero, ninety plus degrees, wind, hail, rain. The Postal Service could not out do me. I paid for my weekend rider, seems no longer than I paid that red thing of beauty off, it began falling apart. Didn't seem fair somehow, my grandpa died, my beautiful Challenger shiny red bicycle with white sidewall tires was disintegrating before my eyes. Learning was no longer fun, I found solace in the movie theatre, reading books, riding my favorite trusty Rusty black bicycle whom never let me down. I traded that shiny red rider bicycle one day for the newest fad, a banana seated one. Why? I don't know, just couldn't stand the sight of that red bicycle no more!

AIN'T IT FUNNY HOW A EARLY AM RIDE AT 4 IN THE MORNING ON SUNDAY CAN BRING BACK MEMORIES FORGOTTEN OR SUPPRESSED ENABLING ONE TO GET ON WITH LIFE. AIN'T IT FUNNY, BUT SOMETIMES MEMORIES SERVE A PURPOSE REMEMBERING THE SIMPLE, PURE, REWARDING, TIMES SOMEHOW. THAT'S WHY I FEEL MYSELF AT A TIME OF THE NIGHT MOST ARE DREAMING, I ALSO HAVE AWAKE DREAMS THAT STILL LINGER AFTER 47 YEARS. AIN'T FORGOTTEN TIMES PRECIOUS AND FEW, SOMETIMES!!!      Glen    

More Fun In Glen's Neighborhod!

What be the post fer today? You see, I actually have not one idea. I mosey on over to my computer, kinda sneaky, ignoring it. I let it think I'm going to bed. Damn it! I must sit down and before you know, I find myself touching the mouse and away I go. Whatever comes to the forefront I type, hopefully to grab hold to somethun, before you know it, I'm asleep at the keyboard and take a nappy-poo. In case you don't believe me I would NEVER use such a word as nappy-poo if I were awake! It's only in the in between world of awake and dreams when I write. Yep, the next day after a good night's sleep I again mosey over the the computer and see what I wrote. I've heard of ghost writers, I do reckon it be somethun like that, only I don't know any ghost, so's I take a nap and my sleeping mind does the writing whilst old Glen gets his ZZZZZ's.

Okay let's change the subject. World news, nah! National news nah! Political news well ... no, ainna gonna start on that, one word seems to sum it up nicely 'crap'. Local news, corn be growing only we need rain BAD!

I be doing right nice on my life style change as in eating much better. Damn I never knew eating better could be so good. Them fast food grease laden manufacturing places from hell, no longer entice old Glen no more. I never would a thunk it in all my born days! I got off work early tonight and used to be I would hid to Taco Hell, where I would shock my old body with all the good/bad food. Good a tasting going down the tube but my belly and my intestines be a saying "what the !@#$ is this old !@#$er trying to do to himself?" Now I get me some peanuts and a diet drink, I'm still trying to get off that diet stuff.

Work, well, work is work, you know! It ain't called work fer nothing! Although some ones must think it's called 'visiting' or 'hanging out' or 'stand around' or 'recess' or fooling 'around' or 'do what I wanna do' or as Bartelby would say "I'd rather not"! Makes me wonder what is the true definition of work?

Home work was brain work carried home from school. Seems to me school work should be done in school, rather logical one might say! When you're at home there ain't no teacher, WHY should I do school work at home? I spend a lot of my day at school AND if them teachers can't teach me at school. la-de-da! I can tell by the ones I work with THEY didn't DO no homework! I was SO SMART I did not take any school work home with me! If I took a school book home with me then my Mama might ask "do you have any home work"? So's I would not be lying you see when I say "NO"!

The dictionary defines wurk as damn! there ain't no such wurd as wurk, in my dictionary! the closest wurd i find is wurst. well ... we all know what wurst means ... it means wurst. i'll use it in a sentence. the uther day was the wurst day of my life. how so? i's goes to wurk and the mean ol boss made me wurk ovurtime.

SURRY!!! wurst according to the explain wurd book. wurst is sausage, what? oh there is mure, oftun used in combinatiun [bratwurst, knackwurst]. OH! NEVURMIND!   I can see we have NO place to go but up from here!

WORK, physical or mental effort exerted.... what? I see very little of this! Let's try number 2, employment at a job or position. I got to think upon this excuse me as I ponder upon such words ....... they do employ people and I see them standing at certain positions! Oh my! It goes on and on adding words behind work such as workable and ends up with work woman. Sheesh I see now! Nobody understands the word work therefore they can't do it!!! THAT'S WHY THERE IS NO WORK LEFT IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!

du u ? my sanity?!!!

Welcome my friends into my almost nightly trek into??? I reckon the title says it best! A one man's journey into his mind, hence Glen View as in the old fashion names for Sanitariums. Please hold somethun interestingly silly just occurred at the top of my empty elevator shaft. Please hold ... Sorry I don't furnish elevator music so hum somethun for a few seconds ... Okay! I may of just hit the mother lode as far as understanding this here Sanitarium word, you will have to let me explain my way. That means visiting inside my mind, please don't be frightened. I have been approved and open for business by some of them government agencies. Oh shit! Now I'm scaring myself! I almost typed scarring myself and that also seems relevant so's a I'll leave that in!

Sanitarium is a quiet resort, as in the mountains, where people go to rest and regain health. WHAT! I thought it was a mental institution filled with nut cases such as was portrayed in the book One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. (Yes, I read the book and am guilty of seeing the movie.) You know since I be a thinking A mite more than usual, you know that Jack Nicholson sure seems to play crazy type characters good! Oh! but he wasn't crazy was he? He be crazy after that electro-shock therapy!

Damn! Damn! Damn! I can't think straight fer nothing! I had me a brainiac moment and lost it! 

So ones where their sanity is questioned are sent to sanitariums, where their sanitized or as the dictionary says "to make sanitary as by sterilizing, behind door number 2 is to free from anything considered undesirable, damaging, etc."

I see this is getting way to deep fer a country boy to understand. Nursey Cratchett, Ratchett, oh crikey whatever in the book sanitized the character o'l Jackie boy portrayed in the movie, by sterilizing his brain.

 (Another thought just side swiped me.) You can buy these stun guns, where you buy the old fashioned Smith and Western 44 magnum side arms. What would the poor defenseless woman of today be carrying? She, not be wanting to clean up no blood off her party dress, a 44 magnum won't fit in her tiny purse. She be most likely carrying a stun gun to fry your ass and watch you flail around on the ground laughing, yep that be my vote. She gonna sanitize that meanness right out a ya!

Let's move on shall we? Sanitarian, well that seems most logical to me. That's an old person living in an old folks home who has been sanitized OR one of them Freudian Doctor's with long whiskers who has the title Doctor of Sanitarian here at the Sanitarium, yep, that makes sense. Dr. of Sanitarian sounds much better than saying "how-dy! I'm Dr. Billy Ray Earl Bob, I'm here to sanitize your mind body or whatever ails you. One month with me and all them unsanitary thoughts, bad habits, whatever will go away."

(Nursey Cratchett, Ratchett, Crikey is looking better!)

OOPS! SORRY!I best look up sanitarian. Dad burn it! Done threw me fer a loop, damn Dick Headed Dictionary screws everything up!!! (Oh! Was my brain turned on, never mind my mind!) Let's TRY to achieve some level of sanity here! I shall try once more to regain a sliver of sanity, let's try the root of this word.

San, I like this, a Japanese honorific title equivalent to Mr.., Mrs., [Mishima-san]

A version I'm partial to, is sane. I have heard ones asking about me "is that man sane?"   

You know I would like to visit one of them nice, quiet, places in the mountains. I wonder if my HMO could get me a free week or two during the off season? I believe it would be just the thing I need to get away from Daisyville. I reckon I could give them Dr's a workout! Yeah that be my ticket every few months I could get my ticket punched and help train them new Freudian want a be's a real look at what Sanitariums are all about!!  Goodnight from Glen View.  

Is The Mine Closed Down Permanently?

I think I have been reading too much lately. When I close my eyes I see a circle swirling like when your computer is in that searching mode. You know ...  that little circle, searching for that info you requested. My computer's been acting mighty strange as late. That searching circle just stays on like it's tired or somethun. (I like the way somethun sounds so ... Me, you see!)

I'm afraid to search once more for the tapped out resources of an old 'mine'. I thought I was tapped out and closed down forever. Good air still rushes through deep caverns helps to carry a ray of light buried deep still flickering, holding hope captive, one day to renew love of life as only a child understands. Imagination, love has been lost to to the pains of simply living.

Life can be a pain in the ass! Can one re-learn what seems lost, forgotten? Not long ago I would say "no way Jose!" Now ...  I lie on the verge of re-consideration ... Oh my! ... Is that why that dad-burn circle searches, when I close my eyes or is my computer search cycle mode permanently etched into my eyes?????  GOODNIGHT MY FRIENDS! FROM O'L G ...................

Uh-Clem Tries Educating Me!

Good morning to my FAVORITE people in the whole world! Welcome to my hood, neighborhood rather! Let me make that perfectly clear! In Glen's neighborhood, I never, never know where my mind is going to take me and then I invite you out there across the big, big, big neighborhood to ride with me. Whether it be silliness which I absolutely love or down right insanity which I am sometimes guilty of, or darkness that once in a while takes me over. What am I missing here, oh, I love to give my opinions. I hope once in a blue moon some words of wisdom may come through. This journey I have found myself on is a rather unbelievable search for ME! But hey, WE ALL search for OURSELVES right! Right on brothers and sisters!

I read a short story a couple hours ago by Herman Melville. He be the author of Moby Dick, one fine novel that we all know the story of. A friend recommended that I read "Bartley The Scrivener". The first thought  through my mind, "what the hell is a scrivener'? Ah, ha, ha, ha! The first thing I do is look up scrivener. You see I'm not an educated man unless living, to become older is called education! I don't know ... I be a self-taught man. I'm sure you can tell that by my writing! I have no style, it be just me 'old Glenny' pecking on the keyboard, an old man with a new toy, (HONK! HONK! HONK!) scrivener be a scribe, copyist or clerk. Well looky here, I have learned me a new word for today.

I think my buddy Uh-Clem be a trying to educate a worthless old codger. He be the one that loaned me Crime and Punishment. I was terrified at the title. Everybody knows "you don't do the crime if you can't do the time." After the first chapter I thought ....  Uh-Clem be pulling a fast one on a helpless old man. I thought I had mental problems! Whew wee ... This Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikov fella I call him "Raskol". He be the whole of a mental institution all wrapped up into a tightly wrapped package. Yes he is! I must admit it were right hard getting into it. Why? Damn, I see challenged ones everyday and I know I'm a mite touched and make no bones about it! I learned a long time ago, if you can't beat em 'join em!'

See how my mind wanders, well I felt right at home in Raskol's mind. Then I thought ...  my buddy is trying to teach me Russian, starting with the names slowly adjusting my mental peculiarities. Well Raskol seemingly a deranged former student walks around town talking to himself thinking evil thoughts in addition to having all his screws loose, pawns a couple things to an old pawnbroker called Alyona Ivanova. Following me so far, he gets a little money and walks around crazily some more and ends up at what is called a pothouse I'm thinking "this Raskol's brain is burnt out from smoking pot." I was somewhat close, pothouses is run down deteriorated drinking houses, I reckon. Here he meets a drunken man by the name of Marmeladov a clerk in rank in the service. Anyhow I get hooked on the book and away I go!

Back to Bartelby The Scrivener, Bartelby is also a clerk, a rather unusual clerk, who's favorite answer to everything is "I'd rather not!" Bartley reminds me of some I have known in life. The ones I know are lazy. But Bartelby's problem is more complex than that I fear! He is a man that is going no where and lost his former job, a real dead end job!!! He was as low in rank as a job can be, no where to go and just don't care gives up.

So I reckon my good buddy o'l pal of mine is trying to tell me that I have no place to go but up and. So what have I learned today boys and girls? The low man gets all the shitty jobs and turns to drinking or simply fades away as Bartelby did or Marmeladov a drunk who gets ran down by horses and fades away.

Oh! Oh! Oh! I get it finally! The mentally deranged are taking over the world! Hot damn! I already knowed that! I be typing this here Bloggy thing-a ma-jig that will hopefully be read by people like me around the world! Ahhahahahaha!       Just having some fun with ya, I'll write something serious if I have the mind to later! To read the short story "Bartelby The Scrivener" by Herman Melville it's in Wikipedia under short stories by Herman Melville a fun read!  Thanks and goodnight my friends. Glen

Tangled Webs

Hello once again my friends. It's early am and my mind is on overload. I've just finished the book Crime And Punishment. After finishing the most amazing read of my life, I'm in mourning. I have enjoyed the book as one might enjoy a fine wine, savoring every word. I'm not sure where to go from here. I feel a mite lost. Seems at this point of my life this book carries much weight. Even though most of my life I have been an avid reader, one must taste life in order to fully evaluate what this man writes of.

Any reading can bring pleasure to those of us that truly love to read, not as just a way to pass the time but as a way to add inner understanding, data to our library we call, our mind. You see that's why a young boy such a me became overjoyed at the opening of the magical cover of books. There lies The Kingdom of Knowledge. I laugh just now at that thought occurring at this moment in time. A simple little game we played as children 'open says me' seems relevant. The world of magically uttering the secret word that opens a locked door. A child's view of Genies, and such! Funny how that though disappeared for such a long time as adulthood buries deeply a child's mind. Ah the child's mind such a wonderful thing. Imagination extraordinaire. Seems as late I've tapped back into my childhood imagination, I love it on the most grandiose scale, I wish to carry it forever more!!!

I dare to feel I am not of this time period. The older I get the more strongly do I feel that! I have always felt out of place even as a child. It was not the disgrace of being poor nor the lack of love. My mother gave me the needed love, my spouse of 38 years adds to that. A rearing of much uncertainty on my father's side has created much turmoil that persist's to this very day. I valiantly give all my might exorcising his torments, his demons so to speak. Don't feel sorry for me! The children of today I fear face more than I in the world of today! At least I have tried to understand and work out the tangled webs. To not know and turn to the wrong crowd that leads to destroying of what beautiful character one possesses runs rampant from the breaking down of morality. Morality is preached upon, but not easily witnessed. Too much excessiveness lies in wait. Legislative morality is such a laugh. The ones legislating cannot follow the basic COMMANDMENTS.

I do not intend to expound upon religion. That to me is a personal matter not found in the most basic of places. Spirituality is either in ones soul or not. Can it be found sure! One must find it in their own way, their own context to attach to one's heart. I will not preach to you, rather I will give my thoughts and 60 years of understanding, "MY WAY!"

IF YOUR OWN SELF AWARENESS AND UNDERSTANDING FITS YOU, I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!

I search for peace in a world of chaos. But there has always been chaos no matter how small the world!

That's what's so magnificently wonderful, more so in the written word than the spoken word. I hear ones  asking "How so?" Intelligent two way conversations are hard to find, in the everyday world. Won't find them in the mass media, that's a certainty.

I reckon I have become somewhat reclusive in my latter years, of that I'm guilty. Upon my venturing into the outside everyday world, I restrict myself as much as I can. I am hard of hearing but my other senses are honed. If not for my immediate family and monetary needs I feel I would like to travel backwards to accept my rightful place or be stranded in a library to spend eternity reading. Whoops, hold on there partner. I just now realised what I said!!! Possibly my new fangled hobby at the ripe old age of sixty has provided the outlet I have searched for, ya reckon? That be this here modern communication device, a way of opening up my mind and talking to myself, through myself, through you or something like that!   Goodnight until we meet again. Glen

Realityville!

It's the end of another work week. I feel the need to type on my little letter board. It's correctly I suppose referred to as the 'keyboard.' I have not yet found a key, nor the place to put the key! Most recently I lost my car keys. It sure is handy to keep a spare. A spare key to anything that locks ... DUH!!! I have lost keys many times, usually they show up in a day or two.

This fricking keyboard has me thinking, ah oh! Yep! You read my mind! What be the key to this keyboard? Perhaps I have a defective keyboard! Sometimes it does the strangest things! Once upon a time, a few days ago. See looky there! Is that oxymoronish or just plain old moron? Most likely the latter! I have been fighting this keyboard fer a couple years, seems much longer, that's why I threw in that once upon a time phrase! In actuality, I have been a learning this keyboard and playing with this little mouse for a short while,  beating  my head against the wall. You know its not easy picking up on things, that were not around when you were born .... No, no, no,  there was typewriters way back then, not computers! 

You see I had very little likelihood, more like nary a chance of making a living with my head, here in corn country. There was no brainiacs in my family. I be the average of the average of the ones in Daisyville. Man we can plow them fields, run them bush hogs, bring in them crops with our combines. Them be the rich, smart ones! I could turn over soil with a shovel, mow grass with a lawnmower, and pick them beans. I hope I have clarified that for ya!

I's (Damn I don't know why I put that 's behind I, but I like it!) got what I refer to as the grassroots learning. (Sorry, it's my inner workings again, I reckon I was green before 'green' was the in word!)  I come from the bare earth, been fertilizing, watering my mind, my whole life! I'm a works in process. I been working on my process fer a long time. I'm hoping my ship will one day come in, after a lifetime at sea, you see!

I reckon I have common sense. I'm common alrighta, that sense sometimes seems to slip away! It don't matter one iota, no more!!! As my hero says "I am what I am!" Then he let go with a "Ah, ha, ha, ha!" Words of wisdom too powerful for a six year old, as he watches cartoons at Grammies house. No, he did not have the luxury of a television at home. This little boy was an inquisitive watcher! He watched Mom and Grandma hang wallpaper and he got to wipe off the paste from the table so they could hang another strip. He got to spend time with his Grandpa planting a large garden and enjoying the fruits of labor. He helped his other Grandpa raise and butcher hogs to fill the freezer for the long hard winter. He mowed grass, shoveled snow, sold produce, passed papers for the local Daisyville Gazette. He was a 'watcher' an 'observer' a student of  'Realityville.' That trait carried over into his wonder years! Yes, I wonder where life has gone! My hair is white, my face is wrinkled.

The greatest pleasure in my life is learning, reading, observing. Although sometimes it be a double edge sword! I am the common everyday man and lover of the base's of life! No matter what life gives you, we must adapt, learn, love move on. One never knows a rainbow may lie behind the darkest cloud.... Goodnight my friends.

The Mercedes

It be late real late do you know where your mind is? Well if you're a regular Joe or Josephine you be snuggled up in bed visiting the land of Oz, I'd reckon! I don't know no regular Joe's or Josephine's! Here in Daisyville them regular ones drove away from here a long time ago. They hastily drove away in their B.M.W.'s, Mercedes, foreign, sleek, beautiful, fine looking automobiles.

I drove a Mercedes one time! A buddy of mine left for college, was gone over twenty years, he returned home to Daisyville with his tail between his legs, life completely drained from him!. He once enjoyed the amenities of having a heap of money, a lavish home, fixin to retire early. It was not to be for my pal, no sir! His wife divorced him and took a younger man, yep! The way he tells the story this fella still be in college. You know my buddy didn't like the way I explained to him that fella didn't need no more educating.

He fumes and frets lying around nye onto a month, living with his momma and daddy once again. I couldn't take it no more! Everyday I would go by after working for the man where we make good o'l American made, oops, 'assembled' Pick Up Trucks. Everyday he would be washing that Mercedes. The only thing left that he could call his, for over twenty years of life.

I asked him "are we still buds, I mean buddies like when we used to go running around during high school. Think clearly upon this, if we're still good, I want to help you, as only best friends can!" He was in deep deliberation, as he sat down on the front porch, placing his right hand under his chin. In all my years I have never seen nobody, think at such depth! I figure he must be pondering upon the time he left his boyhood home. I go into the house getting me a cold one out of the same yellowish white Frigidaire, the same one as when I was a kid, saying "hello" to his mom and dad, I glance out the screen door, he's still pondering! I must have short circuited his wiring, big time! I go back to the fridge getting me another cold one bringing my buddy one, setting it by his left hand. He's still motionless, then it dawned upon me, He's posed just like that statue "The Thinker!"  I be getting a mite P'd O. (pissed off!) I said "lookee here Benjamin Wayne". Momentarily I have his attention, he remembers when we were younger, that I only called him that, when I was P'd O at him big, time! I said "drink that beer", he did and went back to the pose of The Thinker! I finish my beer and go get me another and Benjamin Wayne two. Daddy hollers out sarcastically, "y'all have all them beers you want I just got my Social Security check yesterday!" I pay daddy no mind, I had bigger fish to bring back to reality, I must resurrect Benjamin Wayne, he has sunk to the bottom of the pond, from pondering too much. Benjamin Wayne be bout as lifeless as one can get! He's acting like a big o'l lazy Carp on the bottom of the pond, lying in his own crap, feeling so sorry for himself.  I say "drink these two beers, then I want to talk to you, best friend to whatever remains of my once best friend." He's still in that silly ass pose, using his left hand to drink them beers, luckily I popped the tops for him, what are friends for! I walk around for a spell, Benjamin Wayne still sitting there with that right hand under his !@#$ing chin. I think to myself, "looks more like a dumass sitting on the John pushing out a turd!" Then a thousands light bulbs lite up around that MERCEDES. He has been gazing at that damn Mercedes, reliving the past twenty plus years. He's looping it over and over in his fried brain. I mosey over to the yonder side of that Mercedes and tinkle on the front tire, hoping to bring him out of that pose. Shit! It be worse than I thought! I say Benjamin Wayne "I ain't never drove anything other than pick up trucks, I sure would love to drive that Mercedes of yours. The keys are in my truck, and I see the keys are in your Mercedes, if I don't come back tonight I'll bring her back tomorrow." I jump into that shining California She Devil and peel out before he knows what's going on. I glance back in the rear view mirror and he was waving, with his left hand, his right hand still under his chin. I drive down the road a piece and pull into the first Convenient Store. Coincidences, coincidences the name of the Store was Best Buddy's, at that moment, I realize it's up to me. The weight of the world weighs heavily, some times. I go inside and buy a six-pack o beer, one of them throw away coolers and some ice and a big o'l bag o tater chips, so's I could do me some heavy thinking! You see I think better with a few beers and I get the munchies when I get to drinking, so I did not wish to be interrupted when I'm in deep thought. Then I laugh louder than a coon dog who's treed a coon, at the sight of Benjamin Wayne sitting on the porch. I have to help the poor fool! I pop one of them beers looking around for a drink holder, there ain't one! What! I never drove me a vehicle that had no place to hold my drink a fore! About now I'm zeroing in onto Benjamin Wayne's dilemma. I drive to my favorite thinking/drinking spot, a lake where I can see the moon and all the stars shining with no lights to hinder my deep reflection. I look at the night sky and fore I know'd it, I have finished them beers, and the munchies, there lying in what once was an immaculately clean carpet, a nasty mess. Then I come to a wee bit of sense, I'm not in my pick up truck. I must of laughed for five minutes, my laughter rolls across the lake. I have the answer I have been searching for, I know what I must do. Then lights out. I wake up as the sun peeks into my red swollen bloodshot eyes. Oh my word who hit me across the head with a ball bat. I drive back to Best Buddy's and get me a heap o coffee.  I drive straight to Earl's Salvage Yard, waking up old Earl. I flash a bunch of hundred dollar bills and he was out the door in a flash. "Earl I want you to take that Mercedes and crunch it up for me" as he looks upon them hundreds, "then me and you are going to deliver it to Benjamin Wayne's house right pronto!" So one hour later me and Earl are dropping off a square cube of metal, one ten year old Mercedes that has wrecked havoc on my best friend. I'm gonna cure him of what ails him, yes I am. We drop it off in the driveway and hi-tail it outta there, lickety split. I call into work for a couple days and go visit my brother in the next state. I don't wish to be no where around Benjamin Wayne for a spell! His daddy has many shotguns and well you know a shotgun does one no good without shotgun shells. There is an old saying my Pa used to tell me as he was whipping my buttocks with a hickory switch, "it hurts me worse than it does you!" Well seeing as how I ain't gonna take no chances I'll call Benjamin Wayne in a couple days!

Well all the time I was visiting my brother in the next state, I was hurting just like my Pa said! I was fretting, walking around, thinking Benjamin Wayne will never speak to me and probably will put a double barrel shotgun of pellets in my ass! I'm in a real quandary. I don't have my pick up truck. Here I sit hiding in another state driving my wife's Hyundai, I have sunk lower than him I now have destroyed two lives!

I cannot take it no more I drive back to Benjamin Wayne's to take my medicine. I rationalize the whole thing out driving back.... "He ainna gonna kill me, no way no how! He may put rock salt in the shells and powder my behind right good, whew-wee!!! He will make me pay sure enough! I'll give him my pick up truck, I just want my old pal back. I'll take my medicine like a man, yep that's settled!"

I drive up the driveway and low and behold there's Benjamin Wayne waxing my Silverado! It hasn't looked that good since they day I bought it second hand. I know he sees me but I'm biding my time until he acknowledges me. I mosey over to the front porch and watch Benjamin Wayne, he's singing. "Lord almighty," I have pushed him over the edge of insanity, what were I thinking? I go inside nod at Ma and Pa, get me a cool one out of the Frigidaire. I think "they sure don't make things like that Frigidaire any more" I go to the front porch and sit down, no Benjamin Wayne. "Oh shit!, he's gone after the shotgun, but I ain't leaving until this matter is settled." I take a drink out of my beer and cold water drowns my clothes. Benny has unleashed the hose on me, laughing as we once did, when we were young and full of ourselves! I go after him and we're rolling in the dirt wrestling, laughing! Ma and Pa come out to see what the ruckus is all about. Pa says "damn youngins ain't no good fer nothing, I want my beer replaced, Ben you get a job so's you can pay rent, and get that damn Mercedes Modern Art Sculpture out of my driveway!" 

 Y'ALL COME BACK NOW Y'HERE!!!   YoUr BeSt BuD.........................

CONFESSION

Welcome to my neighborhood. I call it Glen View. It ain't much but it's all mine, my rants, views, opinions, humor and whatever comes through. No I don't want no spirits, no one other than what lies in the far reaches of my noodle.(Slang for mind.) There's no rooms ready for visiting entities, spirits, anything other than what's in this realm. Sheesh, that be more than enough for old Glen! I looked up automatic writing. I don't want any wayward vagabonds channeling through my mind. I have more than enough thoughts in my head just getting through the wayward ones I come into contact with in my every day world of 'specially challenged ones' that come through our school systems. I reckon most of my thoughts are not good so don't none of you ones in them other worlds be coming around me, now ya'here!!!

I be trying to understand this here 'Stream of Consciousness' writing. My buddy Uh-Clem has mentioned this a couple times and I still say "HUH!" I don't know "shit from shanola" bout no styles, writing etiquette and all that crap! I be an old knucklehead that one day decided, I'm going to teach myself how to type and write whatever comes into my noggin. (Slang for mind, once again.) WHY did I want to? Hell I don't know! Seemed more productive than listening to the news, drinking beer, smoking marijuana, taking Prozac and other activities I could get involved in!

CONFESSION, I reckon, reason or think maybe I might have an ulterior motive. By the way seems to me like the word should be interior motive, rather than ulterior motive, but I stay confused all the time so I'll go with ulterior motive. Since I'm in pre-school as far as this writing stuff goes, I'll go with what I think I have heard the word ulterior used. Suddenly I realise or is it realize. You know some books I read spell realise 'realise', where other books spell realize, 'realize'. See how easy it is for me to get confused. Okay now factor in a significant hearing loss which I have had my entire life AND someone with a little sense might say "forget this writing thing dude"!

Damn it! I had a point I was about to make and then ... One of them wayward spirits knocked on my mind's door. HA! ha! ha! I fooled them, I didn't have my hearing aids in! I never heard them knocking. You see sometimes being special as in mentally and hearing challenged is handy! Although this 'challengd' thing seems to of gotten out of hand in my lifetime! I have come to a conclusion too many Aliens hiding behind their Space Ship with the cloaking device turned on out behind the trees, waiting ... just waiting for the man of the house to go to work, so ... that they can ... Well use your imagination!!! (PLEASE DON'T TELL ME I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS TO YOU!)

I wanted to see what being left all alone with a keyboard would do to me. Would you believe a friend of mine, Uh-Clem signed me up for this bloggy-thing-a-ma-jig. Mercy sakes alive "what were he thinking!"

I hear ya out there asking "why didn't I sign myself up to this bloggy thing-a-ma-bob?"

Ye must be right new to Glen View! That's quite alright and I appreciate it! I'm an old man, from the old school. That means we never had such things as computers when I went to school back in the days of one room school houses and out houses you see! Sorry! I'm having some fun with you, although I never had a reason for a computer until I began this madness into the world of Glen View! 

Patience & Meritorious!

I wish to see where my mind is tonight, be it here there or yonder, I never know. Stupidity of the goings on at work have been lost to oblivion, thank goodness. I must remember at all times it's just a place to make money to survive! "work to live, not live for work" as they say." Hell I don't know who said it but it's sound advice. To get caught up in the craziness only lowers ones remaining brain cells and at my age I can't afford to loose no more. So be off with the absurd silliness of it all.

I had half an hour before going into work so I read a chapter in my book while sitting in my van. Storm clouds approaching I watch the beauty of the dark clouds. The sun presently shining. Clouds soon push back the sun, wind picks up the air feels prickly, since I just finished the chapter I don't lolly gag, I rush inside. Sure enough, I have no more made it through the door and the splish splatter of rain hit's the glass. "Yippee!" I say to myself, I have out foxed mother nature before she wets my ass! This is 5:50 PM. The rain was a quick burst nothing frightening. There is some glass to see outside luckily my machines face the west. I happen to look out the window at exactly 8:45 to see the last ray of sun streaming on a white building a quarter mile away. The sun has not shone in 3 hours, yet I look out to see the last light of the day peeking at me. It carries a magic golden glow, as beautiful as a rainbow, mother tells me "goodnight". My heart glows, maybe that's why I was in a golden mood?

That changed within two hours. I must make an earlier than normal delivery on Thursday late PM to a new warehouse. The best part of this, there will be nobody there, so I can zip in and zip out, you see. When I'm in a hurry under time constraints such as last night. Would you believe a brand new truck with less than 1,000 miles on it had a problem in the next state. I must have that truck to make a delivery and the driver was late so you see I did not have time to dilly dally. Well my luck is to find someone I despise from past difficulties, as in "a failure to communicate". Anyways with much control on my part I bite my tongue and make it back on time you see. I'm an hour ad a half passed my lunch and my belly's growling. I have water with me on my jaunt to another city beyond my Daisyville. That water sure don't quench my growling belly, not at all! I make it back and hid to the refrigerator devouring my lunch. U'm me belly says "good" I talk fer a spell with a couple pals at work having some good laughs at our new boss's expense. What can I say about some bosses? Maybe I best leave it there because them bosses ain't going to take no more minutes off of my life, you know what I mean? I'm getting off in about an hour or so I bide my time and ya-hoo good buddies this here old man be gone!

Lordy! Lordy! Lordy! I be trying to learn that there patience thinga-ma-bob! Have mercy! My Moma has all the patience in the world and she be in her eighties, yes-sir! Me Daddy, he had no patience. He should of been admitted to a mental institution as one of them patients, uh-huh! He's been gone 27 years, so what have we learned today about patience boys and girls of the neighbor-world, here on Mr. Glen's neighbor-net? I've heard the old saying "patience is a virtue." I'm gonna going to look that rather nice sounding word up. Virtue means a specific moral quality regarded as good or meritorious. Well that sounds like my Mama! That word meritorious sure throws me for a loop though! Merit sounds good and I understand that but I sure as hell don't recollect the other part, "orious." The closest I can find in my dictionary, by the way I like looking words up the old-fashion way, so Excuse me! Orion is the closest, I knew that word was bad, Greek and Roman myth, Ah-oh, here it comes, a hunter who Diana loves but accidentally kills. See I had a feeling about "orious!" I do like what's behind door number two though, also Astron, an equatorial constellation between Taurus and Lepus, containing the bright stars Rigel and Betelgeuse. Say what!!! Them Greeks and Romans sure go about!  I best look meritorious or ask my buddy Uh- Clem. Seeing as how he's not here I best look that up. Meritorious means having merit; deserving reward, praise.

Seeing as how my mind has left my body and visiting another place I bid you adieu, adios, goodnight.