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reflections

   As my mind wonders and I begin to ponder I begin reflecting on things, things of maybe some socio/spiritual  matter, such as the Karmic wheel I mentioned in one poem, how it not only effects corrupt clergy but each and every one of us, the Maker being the only exception to the rule.
   I think that I'm a basically descent person,  some people will vouch for that, but I have some burdens weighing on my shoulder. My life has been pretty rocky, having gone through mental illness, 4-F (medical rejection) from the military because of it, after a high ASVAB (entrance exam for US military) score and otherwise passing the physical with flying colors.
   After my military rejection, I went back to school to study art and writing before those plans fell through. Right now, I'm getting to practice on one of those on this blog.
   My life pretty well down the tubes, I'm still waiting for someone to be a friend-lover-confidante to share my life and feelings or perhaps even bare my seed.
   I'm hoping that someone reading this can help me with my problem. Got a load of stuff to get out of my system as well as some personal matters to get out of the way back home in Mobile.                          I know that I'm in need of therapy. I'm hoping to get my act together enough to avoid repeating some of the same mistakes, walk a straight line and try to build some good Karma. There are still a few things I'm not comfortable talking about openly to just anyone, at least not now, because I'd need to be able to talk alone and in confidence. I have some critical matters that I'll be needing help with.
   Some day I hope to work to help eleviate some social problems plaguing us, such as child abuse, mental illness, poverty, various social injustices and corruption, both religious and systemic, which can contribute to other problems, such as crime. People resort to doing things they otherwise wouldn't do. First I need to take care of my own problems.


May 27, 2017

  After six and one half years I'm back on my blog, gone though some experiences, some good, some bad, but I believe I learned a lot in that time.
  I left New Orleans on December 19, 2016 and am back in my home town of Satsuma, Alabama.
  Got a Yamaha F-310 acoustic box guitar that I'm teaching myself to play from a combination books and some downloaded videos. Just put a new set of strings on it, medium-light phosphur bronze. I like the clear, crisp sound.
  I happened on the guitar at the New Orleans French Market in 2011 or 12, can't recall which, when I asked the vendors asking price and he said "50". I was a bit surprised to luck up on a deal like that on professional grade guitar and case, both in mint condition and said "dollars"? Then he calmly looked up and grinned and jokingly said "no, euros." So I reached into my pocket and shelled out the money right then and there, most of what I had on me at the time because I knew I couldn't pass up a deal like that which probably wouldn't come my way again. Now I can start fulfilling a life long dream of learning to play a guitar.
  I think I'll practice my guitar for a while before getting back to my painting, an oil on canvas painting of a corn spider from a photograph I took when I was younger and I was actively into photography.
  I have nine other canvases and five canvas boards that I plan on covering with some art work, then I should have something of some value, it'll just be a matter a of finding some buyers. New Orleans is supposed to be a good city for artists but it is a rough town. I'll figure something out.
  How I happened on a deal for art supplies seemed like a rather unusual chain of lucky coincidences
While in New Orleans I was on my way to a Sav-a-Lot grocery and decided to stop by a Taco Bell which was right across the high-way. It was on a Sunday and in front of the restaurant were some news papers setting on top of the news dispensers.
  I picked one up and a gentleman chatting with another man said they were his so I asked how much
and he said two dollars. So I paid him 2 dollars and went inside the Taco Bell to eat something and
and look over the paper. While clearing out the Sunday ads I run across a Michael's Arts and Craft ad
and decided to hang on to it thinking I'll probably not have an opportunity to use it but just in case.
When I walked out of the Taco Bell I glanced over and saw a new shopping plaza I've never seen before.
When I went to check it out I looked up and low and behold there was a new Michael's store. I just got
a return on my taxes and the sale lasted through out the week so I went in to shop for art supplies. I
went back almost everyday of the week because different items were on sale and they were 40, 50 and
60% off depending on the day of the week.

poems

These are a few poems I put together. The first two have been on the shelf for some time. I am rather new at this.

This first one is to protest religious corruption


THE PREACHER MAN

Preacher man cruises in his brand new car
Tells us he stands for Christ
Sneaks across town to night spots and bars
Then gonna tell us wrong from right
Eyeing the women in the front pew
Thinking of the one's he already knew
As well as the ones he'd like to do
Counting his rosary
Robbing the treasury
says "brimstone and fire
for carnal desire"
and "pass the plate
for Heaven awaits"
While his pockets he fills
by raiding the till
And that Karmic wheel
will never be still


This next one I just sort of dreamed up


THE ACOUSTIC GUITAR

Go'na learn to play the acoustic guitar
Get me some gigs in some local bars
Get on the road to become a star
Then cruise around in a shiny new car
And fire me up a fat cigar
But I doubt if I'll really make it that far


This next one is a re-write of a children's rhyme. It is in protest of elitism and the broad chasm between the rich and the poor


THE ELITIST PIGGY

This elitist piggy played the stock market
This elitist piggy bought a big home
This elitist piggy had lobster tail for breakfast
This elitist piggy vacationed in Rome
This elitist piggy got a freebie in his limo all the way home

A few things stated here may hit a sour cord for some, certainly not all of the wealthy are elitists and not all Christian clergy are corrupt, there are those who try to adhere to the tenets of spiritual teachings, as well as philanthropists who use their wealth and influence to help the disadvantaged, but I feel it is important to bring attention to some critical social issues


TRUMPTY DUMPTY

Trumpty Dumpty wants a big wall
Trumpty Dumpty don't represent all
Increases armed forces
Deceives the working man
Never will Trumpty Dumpty make America great again

This of course is a rewrite of a 'Humpty Dumpty' lampooning Trump about his policies. In capitalizing 'Great Wall' I thought about the Great Wall of China. He represents an elite minority, add to the military when we have ample troops already and cons the working class majority whom he cares nothing about 

I just made a revision and changed "his Great Wall" to "a big wall"


To the tune of 'Jesus Loves Me'

Jesus loves me more than you
You'd best do what I say to
Dissidents of whom he loathe
We are right while they're all wrong
Yes Jesus loves me
Yes Jesus loves me
Yes Jesus loves me
Becau-ause I say so

This is in reference to people who use religion as an instrument of control and the church as a power base. On the second line I chose the more colloquial "you'd best" over "you must" because of certain people who hid behind religion to teach hatred against rural-Americans who use these colloquialisms. On the third line I could have said "heretics of whom he loathe" but being Trump era I went with "dissidents' 

A joke a friend messaged me

Superman, Snow White and Pinocchio were taking a stroll together until they came across a building with a sign saying "Beauty Contest, for the most  beautiful woman in the world." Snow White said "I'll enter it." A half hour later she comes out and said "I won first place."

They continue their stroll until they come across a building with sign saying "Contest for the worlds strongest man." Superman says "I'll enter it." A half hour later he comes out saying "I won first place." 

They continue their stroll until they come across another building with a sign saying "Contest for the world's biggest liar." Pinocchio says "I'll enter it." A half hour later he comes out all teary eyed and they ask "what happened?" He then asks "who the hell is Donald Trump?"

 

bamaboy

   DOWN-AND-OUT IN THE BIG EASY

    I'm new at this blogger thing and don't really know how to begin. I'm originally from a planet in the far reaches of the galaxy called Alabama and currently reside in New Orleans. I came here looking for opps and found none and there's hardly any money to be made here at all. I'd go back home if I could get some trucking money. Maybe I'll get a brake. Recently signed on with a talent company and still waiting to get a call. Penned a couple of poems while here. I'm a little new at that, too. Maybe I'll post them and let someone critique them for me.
    I came here in a pick-up truck that's done broke down now, a 1983 Ford F100. Banjo fell off my knee on the way over here and scattered all over the highway. Had a little solid black female cat with most of her tale missing and I never knew just how she lost it. Thought she might have gotten under the hood of some ones car. I found her as a kitten in Mobile and lost her in the Big Easy. Hated that. She was a good little cat. I was ill-advised to put her in a pound by someone supposedly employed to help the down-and-out, and being reluctant to do that I asked some one if he knew anyone who could keep her for a little while because I was living on the streets and he said he could keep her temporarily. I later heard from him that he had to turn her over to animal rescue. I wish I had kept her instead. She was a good little cat. Other homeless people that I was sleeping around had pets, mostly dogs. One couple who slept in a van had a ferret.
   About six months and eight days I slept in the cab of my truck, in a parking lot near the French Market at a spot we called "the wall" where different church groups used to go to feed down-and-out people every night. Homeless and down-and-out would line up, often around two hundred at a time, to eat in a parking lot owned by the French Market which is controlled by the city of New Orleans. The city finally closed it down, from what I here, after thirty years or more of feeding because of some disrespectful types that didn't have much regard for anyone. Always cutting line, leaving their litter all around and an occasional fight would break out.
    Friday was fried chicken night. And some other night, which I forgot, was hot dog night. There are other places as well, some "soup kitchens" in town, that would feed. One is the Catholic Relief Rebuild Center or "the Rebuild" as many called it and then Ozanam Inn, or "the Oz", a homeless shelter and soup kitchen. Then  St. Judes on N. Rampart St. and then the Bridge House, who would feed and give out clothing. The food at these places was okay at times, but often bland, high carb and nutritionally unbalanced, and sometimes single course meals, with maybe a piece of bread. Sometimes some jambalaya or maybe some spaghetti with sauce . Other times just beans and rice. It often wasn't enough. Sometimes we had to walk from one soup kitchen to another to add up to a complete meal.
   The first place I ate was the Hare Krsna temple on the 2900 block of Esplanade. I was fed without having to hear one word about their beliefs. Indian food and vegetarian with lots of rice. It was okay.
   One has to respect one thing, though. Some people did have to go through some trouble and expense to prepare these meals. I didn't go too much for the preaching coming out of some, although some of these people were nice. Sometimes some church groups, high school or college students, would come from different parts of the country to come out and chat with us. Some were more open-minded than others. I could tell some of them that I was a staunch pluralist without a problem. Others were more forceful. One guy approached me asking me if I was saved and had accepted Jesus. He had a big smile on his face, but he was still forceful about it. Just to  get him off of me I answered yes to both questions, but didn't tell him what I considered myself saved from or that I quit believing in it.
   Of course this story wouldn't be complete without mentioning Randy, or "Wandy" as he said his name. Sounded tongue-tied, but I believe he had a brain disorder and a learning disability and  would tell you himself that he couldn't "read at all". He had a big heart, though, and would befriend almost anybody. Shared just about anything he had, food, drink, put gas in your vehicle from a disability check he got each month. Both homeless, we often parked our trucks next to each others and joked that we were "next door neighbors". Four years older than myself, he couldn't walk very far because of his gout. Left homeless by Katrina, his house in Chalmette having been devastated, losing everything, including two pets, a cat and a dog, everything except for his truck that he slept in for four years. He finally got off the streets after getting bitten by a spider and laying up in the hospital over night. He then went to live with his brother in Chalmette. That was the last I have seen of my good friend Randy in 2009
   Then there was Johnny from Ohio. Brett Maverick I called him because of his taste for gambling and talent for card tricks that I can't figure out to this day how he did. He liked hitting the casinos in town, sometimes blowing in whatever money he could get holt of. I once told him that he needed to learn to quit when he was ahead. He came here through Birmingham, Alabama and got stuck in the Crescent City as I did. Befriended some "gutter-punks", I guess you could say kind of a neo-hippie type group, idealistic and free-willing, and some a bit unruly.  I let Johnny sleep in the back of my truck before I finally landed a job in a hotel working part time in exchange for lodging along with other formerly homeless.
   Some of these gutter-punks aren't so bad. One can see some of them amongst the street musicians in the French Quarter. String bands, playing sort of an old timey proto-type of country and blue-grass. And I heard one band throw in an Italian tune.
   Some of the street musicians are quite good. I've seen one guy on both Bourbon and Royal, playing blues on his guitar and his motorcycle parked nearby in the street, his case opened up on the pavement displaying the CD's he had cut. Once I saw a Georgia tag setting in the case. Then there's this old couple, a White guy and a Black woman playing some old timey kind of gospel and folk and such.
   As far as I know, most of the people I knew on the streets are off now. One guy got a call from Chicago with a job offer. Last I heard Johnny went to Vegas.
   I now have a part-time job in a hotel in exchange for lodging. I need a cash job. I may have one soon. They want to put me though a few hours of training and I think maybe see how I work out. As a doorman  at a lounge. Something new for me but I need to get out of a lot of low skill, back breaking menial labor.
   I also need to get back home some how. I don't suppose if I clicked my heels together while chanting "there's no place like home" that I could be teleported back home to Alabama.
   Been rough here so far.
   Not too bad in some ways, though. Some people aren't so bad once you get to know them. Although I have run into a few shady types, really nothing that can't be found most anywhere. I've made a few friends here, but a couple of times I have had the occasion of being harassed by someone after hearing my Alabama accent. A lot of people I met here aren't from here either, like a couple of people from Georgia. They don't talk much differently from us.

   Just got stopped in the neighboring town of Metairie by a Jefferson Parish Sheriff's deputy for panhandling after the first time I'd ever tried my hand at it. He asked for my ID and I handed it to him. "You from Alabama?", he asked, and I replied "yes sir".  He said they had orders to arrest anyone caught panhandling after a woman got accosted by a homeless man right across the street. Luckily, he said, he lets people off with a warning the first time, but if he catches me again that I would take a ride across the river to jail. Then he confiscated the cardboard sign that I had made reading "DOWN & OUT -- GOD BLESS" then handed me back my license.
 

   One time, when I was still on the streets and beginning to feel some deep despair, I was walking down Esplanade getting ready to go into the French Quarter, and seeing a white limo cruising around, I said to myself "they're not gonna help us." This was after seeing it cruising around at least about a couple of times before and already becoming pretty critical of the attitudes of some wealthy people back home, some seeming to be strictly for their own elite little cliques, and then coming here and winding up on the streets of New Orleans. I try not to judge every individual within any group as the same, I have met some pretty nice rich kids. But after living on the streets for a little while I began building up resentment against the wealthy. Then I began developing a more classist attitude and after seeing that white limo cruising about a few times, I finally spat at it. As of this writing I've been off the streets for about a year, so that was over a year ago prior to this and now I'm looking back on it and thinking that was a stupid move on my part. The tint on the windows being pretty dark, I had no idea about who the occupant of that car was, but decided to take out my anguish on and show my resentment to whoever was in that white limo
   Whoever it was might have been the one to help me, in which case I would have just shot myself in the foot and made my doubts about them not helping come true for me. Talking self-fulfilled prophecy. I guess I owe this person an apology. My nerves have settled now somewhat since then and I realize now that I was wrong to take my anguish out on the occupant of that vehicle and on the rich in general, although I've come to believe that wealth should be spread more evenly.
   One problem I've confronted here was running into some riff-raff that said they for some cock-n-bull called the "master-plan". I've known about it already and always thought it was stupid. Its something that started with some corrupt cleric standing behind a pulpit with an ear-to-ear smile and saying that God gave him a message to  deliver. It claims to be the perfect solution to racism through the oppression of White rural-Americans. As if increased tensions are really going to create racial harmony.
   I think embraced more by urbanites, most of the ones I met around Mobile were mostly White upper-crust and usually elitists. Most I've met in New Orleans were lower-class Blacks, two were White are all were cut-throats and riff-raff.
   I believe the master-plan to be something led by a group of elitist demogogues trying to build a power base made up of minorities and urbanites using Southern White rural-Americans as a scape-goat for all their problems by circulating rumors and excagerating the worst aspects of their culture and covering over certain facts.