I followed my cousin Monroe and Grandfather Vollrath to the fishing pond across the gravel road to the other half of his farm. This is the past and I miss them both. Both died too soon.
I follow my son Mark and his son Denver to another fishing spot. I am Grandfather Vollrath now and I'm carrying cane fishing poles. This is the future. I must live to make it come true.
Grandfather Vollrath, Monroe and I are fishing with cane poles. We capture grasshoppers near the pond for our bait. This is a happy memory but I can't recall if we caught any fish. It doesn't matter.
I am with my son Mark and grandson Denver in the future. It doesn't matter if we catch anything just as long as Denver has this memory of me. Someday he too might be a Grandfather Vollrath.
Next Post; The Vision
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Blue Green Dream
I'm a protectionist as was Abraham Lincoln.
I know next to nothing about the world of finance.
I do know that rich spoiled brats are running the world and haven't a clue how to fix the mess they created. They have built an empire of false knowledge in oceans of arrogance. They let the children of the Earth breath polluted air from the greed that owns their souls. They want a world of wage-slaves (low income workers) and sign up-slaves (volunteers that do work they should be paid) while their lust for power and money knows no bounds.
I believe in unions. They are corrupt imaginary constructions but they are less corrupt than the corporate imaginary constructions.
I believe in green technology. The polluted air is slowly killing me. I don't care about myself as much as I care about all the children of the world.
I believe in the Blue Green Dream.
I know next to nothing about the world of finance.
I do know that rich spoiled brats are running the world and haven't a clue how to fix the mess they created. They have built an empire of false knowledge in oceans of arrogance. They let the children of the Earth breath polluted air from the greed that owns their souls. They want a world of wage-slaves (low income workers) and sign up-slaves (volunteers that do work they should be paid) while their lust for power and money knows no bounds.
I believe in unions. They are corrupt imaginary constructions but they are less corrupt than the corporate imaginary constructions.
I believe in green technology. The polluted air is slowly killing me. I don't care about myself as much as I care about all the children of the world.
I believe in the Blue Green Dream.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Denver or Bust
Under the same number of stories about grand children protection act, I am required by a law I passed between my ears to write an equal number of stories about my Grand Son Denver Vollrath. Seen here with his beautiful mother Queen Becky the two are either in Asia or Minnesota."Denver this is your Grandfather Vollrath calling by the Imagination Network. Can you imagine what I'm thinking?"
"Yes Grandfather, I'm reading you imagined and clear."
"I'm coming to see you Denver. I'll be there soon to know the joy that is you. I love you Denver with all the love a Grandfather can give. I'm sorry I haven't seen you more in this first year of your life. I look forward to the remaining years of my life to weave a thousand dreams with you and to be your friend."
Saturday, September 27, 2008
How To Fix the U.S.A.
I don't know what to do. Our system of bribery is very complex and I'm sure all the experts will say I'm wrong. Well here goes nothing.
1. It's the manufacturing jobs you elitist arrogant aristocratic fools! You can't turn a whole country into a bedroom community. You must have good paying blue collar jobs to support the housing market. You can't run a country on bean counters and paper pushers. You must make something that has value. How many children half a world away will die because of pollution made from your mindless greed manifested into a reality of toxic hell?
2. Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Bribery should not be the same thing. The wealthy of the country should not decide which American can run for office. Elections should last only six weeks and all ads and travel is banned in those six weeks. A series of nightly debates plays on public radio and public television for those six weeks.
3. Term Limits for all. One term for all political offices in the United States. One year terms for all political offices in the United States. No woman or man could hold any office after five years.
The end of the career politician.
4. Change the Constitution and get rid of the Senate. The most elitist and corrupt organization in the country.
5. Create Blue Green Factories and pass a law that 80% of all goods sold in the U.S.A. are made in the U.S.A.. Blue is for Union and Green is for zero pollution. Don't believe the lies as zero pollution is possible with current technology.
6. Break up the oil companies and make all next years car models run on Compressed Natural Gas. Convert older cars to Compressed Natural Gas in five years. Run taxis on compressed air and bus lines on hydrogen fuel cells. Phase out Compressed Natural Gas in ten years and replace with hydrogen fuel cell cars.
1. It's the manufacturing jobs you elitist arrogant aristocratic fools! You can't turn a whole country into a bedroom community. You must have good paying blue collar jobs to support the housing market. You can't run a country on bean counters and paper pushers. You must make something that has value. How many children half a world away will die because of pollution made from your mindless greed manifested into a reality of toxic hell?
2. Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Bribery should not be the same thing. The wealthy of the country should not decide which American can run for office. Elections should last only six weeks and all ads and travel is banned in those six weeks. A series of nightly debates plays on public radio and public television for those six weeks.
3. Term Limits for all. One term for all political offices in the United States. One year terms for all political offices in the United States. No woman or man could hold any office after five years.
The end of the career politician.
4. Change the Constitution and get rid of the Senate. The most elitist and corrupt organization in the country.
5. Create Blue Green Factories and pass a law that 80% of all goods sold in the U.S.A. are made in the U.S.A.. Blue is for Union and Green is for zero pollution. Don't believe the lies as zero pollution is possible with current technology.
6. Break up the oil companies and make all next years car models run on Compressed Natural Gas. Convert older cars to Compressed Natural Gas in five years. Run taxis on compressed air and bus lines on hydrogen fuel cells. Phase out Compressed Natural Gas in ten years and replace with hydrogen fuel cell cars.
The Knowing
I first heard about The Knowing when I was a small child. The person that told me about The Knowing doesn't wish me to tell their name. This family member was hit by a car and knocked out.
That person died and in that moment of death knew everything. That love one couldn't bring The Knowing back and believes the human brain can't hold infinite knowledge.
I don't remember all of my time in the boarder lands between life and death. I would like to think I would reject infinite knowledge.
Sometime I just know things, like my half speaking with Patty.
In her two years in a coma she found The Knowing. The question I ask myself is; did I find The Knowing in those twenty minutes in the boarder lands? I find that I don't care.
That person died and in that moment of death knew everything. That love one couldn't bring The Knowing back and believes the human brain can't hold infinite knowledge.
I don't remember all of my time in the boarder lands between life and death. I would like to think I would reject infinite knowledge.
Sometime I just know things, like my half speaking with Patty.
In her two years in a coma she found The Knowing. The question I ask myself is; did I find The Knowing in those twenty minutes in the boarder lands? I find that I don't care.
Super Normal
For 33 years I chased the dream of becoming Super Normal. A place inside your mind where your imagination rules your emotions and put an end to the bi-polar cycle.
I only give six minutes to my depressive/manic cycle a month. When I was young I gave the whole year to that cycle. Six months depressed and six months manic was my childhood.
We are all given gifts beyond all the riches of the world.
Imagination approaching the infinite.
The ability to love our enemies.
Each of us has the power to change the world.
I am a being of pure light and I say to any that suffer from the bi-polar cycle that the strongest medicine is your imagination. I am not a doctor and you should listen to medical advice but your imagination is a powerful weapon against depression.
If you are depressed and you think no one believes in you then you are wrong.
I believe in you. I believe in every human soul on the planet. I believe that hell can have redemption. I believe that love can always win. I believe in you.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Grand Daughter Versus Grandpa
"In this corner weighing 250 pounds is the Champion Baby Wrestler of the Vollrath Family, Grandpa Vollrath!"
All the talking Elmo toys in the little house goes wild!
Then the Imaginary Announcer points to a little girl in the opposite corner of the house.
"In this corner weighing under 30 pounds is the Challenger Cordelia (The Cookie Monster) Vollrath!"
Not just the Elmos but all the toys go wild for their favorite little girl.
Grandpa ponders this for a moment;"Home court advantage, I didn't think of that. I must be careful, you never know when a favorite toy will jump in and try to rig the match."
The two titans of family love come to the center of the house. A big furry frog chair is the Ref.
"First no eye gouging and that means you Cordelia! I saw that scar on your mother's eyelid."
Cordelia gives the Frog Chair Ref her most innocent look.
"Second Grandpa, no silly faces, bad jokes or weird noises."
With that said Grandpa knew this wasn't any ordinary Furry Frog Chair Ref.
"Now I want some nice clean silly whatever this is."
Cordelia started the match with a hug and a giggle. Grandpa went for a belly tickle but got his hat stolen before he could complete the move. Cordelia ran off with the hat on wobbly legs.
Grandpa faked super sadness for the lost hat and fell on the floor. Cordelia sat on Grandpa's head and the match was over. Cordelia was the winner and the toys of the house sang with joy.
Grandpa was a good loser as he had been Champion Baby Wrestler of the Vollrath family from the time his sons were little and that was a long time. He was just glad Cordelia didn't have a dirty diaper.
All the talking Elmo toys in the little house goes wild!
Then the Imaginary Announcer points to a little girl in the opposite corner of the house.
"In this corner weighing under 30 pounds is the Challenger Cordelia (The Cookie Monster) Vollrath!"
Not just the Elmos but all the toys go wild for their favorite little girl.
Grandpa ponders this for a moment;"Home court advantage, I didn't think of that. I must be careful, you never know when a favorite toy will jump in and try to rig the match."
The two titans of family love come to the center of the house. A big furry frog chair is the Ref.
"First no eye gouging and that means you Cordelia! I saw that scar on your mother's eyelid."
Cordelia gives the Frog Chair Ref her most innocent look.
"Second Grandpa, no silly faces, bad jokes or weird noises."
With that said Grandpa knew this wasn't any ordinary Furry Frog Chair Ref.
"Now I want some nice clean silly whatever this is."
Cordelia started the match with a hug and a giggle. Grandpa went for a belly tickle but got his hat stolen before he could complete the move. Cordelia ran off with the hat on wobbly legs.
Grandpa faked super sadness for the lost hat and fell on the floor. Cordelia sat on Grandpa's head and the match was over. Cordelia was the winner and the toys of the house sang with joy.
Grandpa was a good loser as he had been Champion Baby Wrestler of the Vollrath family from the time his sons were little and that was a long time. He was just glad Cordelia didn't have a dirty diaper.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Hospital Visit
Cordelia and I playing our game of (Where is grandpa's hat?) at her birthday party.
Photos by Jackie Goss. Used with permission.
My son Micheal called me and asked me watch Cordelia my one year old grand daughter while he had a checkup at the hospital.
Cordelia had gotten four vaccine shots that day and when I got there was asleep with a small fever from four weaken viruses racing through her body.
Micheal went for his checkup while I watched the sleeping Cordelia in the waiting room. She sat in the stroller I had picked out and my parents had bought her. While Micheal was gone Cordelia woke up for a few seconds. I talked to her and she looked at me with a weak smile and went back to sleep. Micheal returned and said we got there too late. The out patient office was closed.
We went down to the hospital parking lot as I had the great honor of pushing Cordelia in her stroller. Micheal was putting the stroller in the back of the car when Cordelia woke up in her car seat. I began to talk to her and showed her that I had remembered to bring my hat, so we could play a game of where is grandpa's hat. She looked at me with a weak smile and slowly reach for my hat. She put her arm down and smiled at me. I went to my fall back game of peek-a-boo and again she flashed me a weak smile. Cordelia went back to sleep.
Then I realized that Cordelia wanted to make me smile and laugh as much as I wanted to make her smile and laugh. She was just too sick and tired after her hospital visit.
Late Night Shopping
I was at my youngest son's house on a Friday night just before he was to go off to work.
My son Micheal is a male nurse working with the mentally challenged in group homes.
My daughter-in-law was becoming nervous as Micheal was getting ready to leave and said she needed to go shopping. I volunteered to be Amanda's and Cordelia's bodyguard for this late night shopping for the essentials. Amanda drove since the world looks like a broken mirror to me at night.
I love shopping with my daughter-in-law and that little bundle of joy that is my grand daughter.
Of course I take turns pushing the shopping cart and then there is the game of where is grandpa.
This time I even showed Cordelia I know how to juggle.
As we were leaving the store Amanda gave me a wonderful compliment;
"You make the ordinary, extraordinary."
My son Micheal is a male nurse working with the mentally challenged in group homes.
My daughter-in-law was becoming nervous as Micheal was getting ready to leave and said she needed to go shopping. I volunteered to be Amanda's and Cordelia's bodyguard for this late night shopping for the essentials. Amanda drove since the world looks like a broken mirror to me at night.
I love shopping with my daughter-in-law and that little bundle of joy that is my grand daughter.
Of course I take turns pushing the shopping cart and then there is the game of where is grandpa.
This time I even showed Cordelia I know how to juggle.
As we were leaving the store Amanda gave me a wonderful compliment;
"You make the ordinary, extraordinary."
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Smile Behind the Pacifier
The above picture has nothing to do with the following story but this is the used car I bought Cordelia for her birthday. I think that's Cordelia in the car but her best friend was at the party and from a distance you can't tell them apart.
I can't remember why I was in the north land (I do now but that's a secret). On the way back I drove by my son's house and saw Cordelia and her daddy starting to go for a walk.
"Hi Cordelia, can I go for a walk with you?"
Cordelia was sitting in her new wagon her other grandpa bought her for her birthday. She looked up at me with the biggest smile behind her pacifier. I parked the car and went walking with her and her father. I pulled the wagon until I got too winded and then my son took over.
My asthma was beating me up that day but that beautiful smile behind the pacifier was all the medicine I needed.
Photo by Jackie Goss. Used with permission.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Great Firewall of America
Electronic lying seems to be popular among the aristocratic families of the world.
Where ever you live in world, the aristocrats rule. They want to own the Internet but they lack the imagination to capture it in any real sense. They own most of the traditional media but that media is dying a slow death. How will they control the flow of information in the future? Big lies wrapped in small sound bites? Short video clips as reality? Parades of polls without the methods of the polling? All these are in the here and now.
Do we have a Great Firewall of America? We know there is a Great Firewall of China but what if a group is monitoring our Internet activity from an USA perspective?
I first suspected this at the beginning of this year when my first five posts were removed (or censored as I see it) by Blogger for what could only be political reasons.
Then after talking to some blogger in the Middle East a map widget showed all international visits to my blog were coming from Virgina in the United States. After I commented on that fact on a blog the widget went back to normal. I took down the map widget later and haven't put one back up.
Whenever I think my blog is being hacked, I talk about it on my blog and all my problems go away the moment I put the post up.
I think we'll never know how much our writing is monitored but I'm sure it is in a limited way.
Where ever you live in world, the aristocrats rule. They want to own the Internet but they lack the imagination to capture it in any real sense. They own most of the traditional media but that media is dying a slow death. How will they control the flow of information in the future? Big lies wrapped in small sound bites? Short video clips as reality? Parades of polls without the methods of the polling? All these are in the here and now.
Do we have a Great Firewall of America? We know there is a Great Firewall of China but what if a group is monitoring our Internet activity from an USA perspective?
I first suspected this at the beginning of this year when my first five posts were removed (or censored as I see it) by Blogger for what could only be political reasons.
Then after talking to some blogger in the Middle East a map widget showed all international visits to my blog were coming from Virgina in the United States. After I commented on that fact on a blog the widget went back to normal. I took down the map widget later and haven't put one back up.
Whenever I think my blog is being hacked, I talk about it on my blog and all my problems go away the moment I put the post up.
I think we'll never know how much our writing is monitored but I'm sure it is in a limited way.
Forever Fish
Has my blog been hacked? I can't edit my blog anymore. I can't save drafts of my posts.
Has this happened to anyone else?
The Forever Fish swam into my imagination.
"Aren't you being a little paranoid Robert? Come on, who would want to hack your blog?"
"I'd answer that Forever Fish but then I'd sound more paranoid."
Is Blogger having these problems on a larger scale?
"Come on Robert just swim with me in a sea of dreams and forget blogging for a while."
I begin to swim with the Forever Fish and hope for the best.
I just read that blogger is aware of this problem and I'm not the only one. My problem started when I got Myspace IM.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Blog Dog
I blog because most days I don't have the energy to do anything else.
Nah, that's not it! I love to blog. I'm sick but drawing takes less energy than this.
Some days when I'm down as far as I can go I just live for the comments. I don't even think that's silly.
I love reading other peoples blogs. I love the artwork posted and even the You Tube videos.
Between Imagination Vendors and The Rant three Bully Tales will pop up in the days to come.
Skateboard Bully Finished Story 9/22
Mugger Bully Finished Story 9/22
Movie Bully Finished Story 9/23
I do stupid things in all three stories and become a bully myself as I fight against bullies.
All three stories are as true as I remember. I won't paint myself in a positive light in these stories. All three stories deal with sensitive issues in our world so I'm going to work hard on these stories to keep stereotypes from being reinforced by the telling of the tale.
Reinforcing stereotypes is a form of lying. Many people don't seem to care who is hurt by their blogs but I do. If any of my stories can stop some one from making the mistakes I have then this blog has worth.
Health Careless is the next short story I'll be finishing before I move this blog forward again. 9/23
Nah, that's not it! I love to blog. I'm sick but drawing takes less energy than this.
Some days when I'm down as far as I can go I just live for the comments. I don't even think that's silly.
I love reading other peoples blogs. I love the artwork posted and even the You Tube videos.
Between Imagination Vendors and The Rant three Bully Tales will pop up in the days to come.
Skateboard Bully Finished Story 9/22
Mugger Bully Finished Story 9/22
Movie Bully Finished Story 9/23
I do stupid things in all three stories and become a bully myself as I fight against bullies.
All three stories are as true as I remember. I won't paint myself in a positive light in these stories. All three stories deal with sensitive issues in our world so I'm going to work hard on these stories to keep stereotypes from being reinforced by the telling of the tale.
Reinforcing stereotypes is a form of lying. Many people don't seem to care who is hurt by their blogs but I do. If any of my stories can stop some one from making the mistakes I have then this blog has worth.
Health Careless is the next short story I'll be finishing before I move this blog forward again. 9/23
Imagination Vendors
I have dreams but I don't want to sell them. I've never been any good at that. No money in that want of given things freely. Oh, I have a beat up old dream around here somewhere that I'll sell but my heart won't be in it. I guess I'll never be an Imagination Vendor. Those people with names like Disney and Lucas that sold their dreams so well. Still when my asthma isn't bad like it is today I have hope. Sometimes I think I have asthma because I have dusty old dreams.
Then again I'm a being of pure light and my imagination has no bounds. My dreams burn like white hot stars made of diamond dust! We are a web of imagination in an echo of nothing! My dream is no more important than the largest or smallest of anyone's dream!
Keep your prepackaged dreams you vendors of a thousand hollow tales I have a few of my own!
The above post is what happens when you write when you're sick.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Movie Bully
"Hey you, you move to the front of the theater! I don't like you little whip business men!"
The five punks in the back row began to violently kick the back of the row seats ten seats above us.
I sat with my family and watched as people moved to the front of the movie theater to get away from the gang of five.
"That's right move to the front where you belong!" Said one of the five.
I thought to myself; "Don't say anything, just let it go."
"Hey you people three rows ahead of me. I need you to move too. You smell bad."
The other four laughed at there gang leaders comment.
"They don't have to move!"
The gang of five was shocked and so was I. It was my voice but it was like someone else had spoke the words. The leader of gang looked down on me from the high ground and spoke.
"There is five of us but only one of you. Are you sure you want to mouth off to us?"
"There only needs to be one of me."
Again it was as if someone else spoke through me but it was my voice.
I turned around and watched the movie that had been playing for five minutes. I was going to die so I could see Gremlin's 2 in peace and quiet. I was the greatest of all fools. My sons and their mother with a friend were going to see me beaten to a bloody pulp after the movie ends. I could leave before the movie ends but that would be a sign of weakness and might invite the attack.
I had to let this play out and pretend to be brave.
The movie ended and the gang of five almost ran out of the movie theater. I chuckled at this.
The young punks must have seen too many Kung Fu movies and thought a lone fighter could take five on at once.
When I got outside I couldn't remember where my car was parked. With my family and a friend in tow I began to look for my car. Then I saw the gang of five huddled together in a group of old cars. With my exceptional hearing I could just make out their conversation 500 feet away.
"There he is. Don't let him get you alone or he'll kill you. That's the way they always do it."
I couldn't help it. I started laughing as loud as I ever laughed. This scared the gang of five even more. Which made me laugh even louder. Finally I found my car and drove off.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I honked my horn and waved at the gang of five.
They didn't wave back.
The five punks in the back row began to violently kick the back of the row seats ten seats above us.
I sat with my family and watched as people moved to the front of the movie theater to get away from the gang of five.
"That's right move to the front where you belong!" Said one of the five.
I thought to myself; "Don't say anything, just let it go."
"Hey you people three rows ahead of me. I need you to move too. You smell bad."
The other four laughed at there gang leaders comment.
"They don't have to move!"
The gang of five was shocked and so was I. It was my voice but it was like someone else had spoke the words. The leader of gang looked down on me from the high ground and spoke.
"There is five of us but only one of you. Are you sure you want to mouth off to us?"
"There only needs to be one of me."
Again it was as if someone else spoke through me but it was my voice.
I turned around and watched the movie that had been playing for five minutes. I was going to die so I could see Gremlin's 2 in peace and quiet. I was the greatest of all fools. My sons and their mother with a friend were going to see me beaten to a bloody pulp after the movie ends. I could leave before the movie ends but that would be a sign of weakness and might invite the attack.
I had to let this play out and pretend to be brave.
The movie ended and the gang of five almost ran out of the movie theater. I chuckled at this.
The young punks must have seen too many Kung Fu movies and thought a lone fighter could take five on at once.
When I got outside I couldn't remember where my car was parked. With my family and a friend in tow I began to look for my car. Then I saw the gang of five huddled together in a group of old cars. With my exceptional hearing I could just make out their conversation 500 feet away.
"There he is. Don't let him get you alone or he'll kill you. That's the way they always do it."
I couldn't help it. I started laughing as loud as I ever laughed. This scared the gang of five even more. Which made me laugh even louder. Finally I found my car and drove off.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I honked my horn and waved at the gang of five.
They didn't wave back.
Mugger Bully
A young woman walked towards me.
"My boyfriend says that you are to give me some money so we can go to a movie or he'll shoot you."
I was in Westport an old neighborhood of Kansas City Missouri.
"I don't see a gun. Where is his gun?"
I've never been scare of any man that threatens by sending his wife or girlfriend over to me.
"You better believe he has a gun! He has it in the pocket of his leather jacket."
"Tell him I'll give you the money if he shows me the gun."
She walked back to her boyfriend and told him what I said. He looked angry and sent his girlfriend back over to me.
"He says he's going to shot you through the pocket of his leather jacket if you don't give us money to go to the movies now!"
"I don't think so. It's his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket. Now you two need to find someone else to mug because I'm going to go buy an art book at that bookstore."
I began walking to the bookstore and those two Westport muggers followed me.
I keep looking around for a policeman to flag down but couldn't see any. The couple was walking 30 feet behind me. I walked into the bookstore and they stopped following me. I could see the couple waiting for me just a few steps from the doorway through the big bookstore windows.
The art book I was looking for was sold out. The only two other costumers in the bookstore left through the front door running the mugger gantlet without a reaction from the couple. They were waiting for me. I must have hurt their mugger pride. I went to the check out counter.
"I need you to call the call the police for me. That couple just outside your front door is threatening to kill me if I don't give them money."
"I don't want to get involved. You need to leave my store."
"If you have a back door I'll be glad to leave your store."
"I don't have a backdoor, you'll need to go out the front door."
"I can't go out the front door or I'll get mugged. Besides you're lying as I know you have a backdoor."
With that the clerk ran into the backroom. He yelled at me from the backroom.
"Leave my store now or I'll call the police!"
I yelled back.
"Fine with me, I want you to call the police!"
The bookstore was empty except for me. A couple of would be muggers out front and a cowardly bookstore clerk in the backroom. I watched the boyfriend mugger through the front window give evil stares to anyone approaching the bookstore. It was comical how you could see people change their minds about going into the bookstore by body language and the expressions on their faces.
I yelled back to the store clerk.
"Hey Mr. Bookstore Owner how about closing your eyes and letting me run out your backdoor?"
"I've got a gun and I'll shot you if you come back here!"
"Great, everyone has a gun today but me."
All I wanted to do was buy a $20.00 art book, how did I become part of a three way book store stand off. That thought gave me an Idea. All of us in this little reality play were cowards at heart.
I could use that and the ego of Mr. Boyfriend Bully.
"I'm going to try something Mr. Bookstore Owner. If I die I'm going to haunt this bookstore and if I live I'm going to tell everyone what a coward you are!"
I walked over to the big window by the front door and tapped on it. Mr. and Mrs. Mugger turned and looked at me.
"I love books! I can stay in here all day. You two are going to miss the early show."
I turned and walked away like I wasn't scared at all. I just started shopping for books. I saw the mean stare from Mr. Mugger out of the corner of my eye. Mrs. Mugger was pulling on his arm begging him not to come into the store and beat me up. After a few minutes of this she won and the couple turned and walked away. I left the bookstore in stealth mode. The front door didn't have a bell on it and I opened and closed it as quiet as I could. I wanted Mr. Bookstore Owner to stay in the backroom for as long as possible.
I went directly to were my car was parked. I had somehow lost my parking ticket and the parking attendant told me that would cost me twenty dollars.
"See if you can read my license plate!" I said to the parking attendant as I speed off without paying. I looked in my rear view mirror as I speed out of Westport and thought to myself;
"Still no policemen to be found."
Note; This all happened before the age of cell phones.
"My boyfriend says that you are to give me some money so we can go to a movie or he'll shoot you."
I was in Westport an old neighborhood of Kansas City Missouri.
"I don't see a gun. Where is his gun?"
I've never been scare of any man that threatens by sending his wife or girlfriend over to me.
"You better believe he has a gun! He has it in the pocket of his leather jacket."
"Tell him I'll give you the money if he shows me the gun."
She walked back to her boyfriend and told him what I said. He looked angry and sent his girlfriend back over to me.
"He says he's going to shot you through the pocket of his leather jacket if you don't give us money to go to the movies now!"
"I don't think so. It's his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket. Now you two need to find someone else to mug because I'm going to go buy an art book at that bookstore."
I began walking to the bookstore and those two Westport muggers followed me.
I keep looking around for a policeman to flag down but couldn't see any. The couple was walking 30 feet behind me. I walked into the bookstore and they stopped following me. I could see the couple waiting for me just a few steps from the doorway through the big bookstore windows.
The art book I was looking for was sold out. The only two other costumers in the bookstore left through the front door running the mugger gantlet without a reaction from the couple. They were waiting for me. I must have hurt their mugger pride. I went to the check out counter.
"I need you to call the call the police for me. That couple just outside your front door is threatening to kill me if I don't give them money."
"I don't want to get involved. You need to leave my store."
"If you have a back door I'll be glad to leave your store."
"I don't have a backdoor, you'll need to go out the front door."
"I can't go out the front door or I'll get mugged. Besides you're lying as I know you have a backdoor."
With that the clerk ran into the backroom. He yelled at me from the backroom.
"Leave my store now or I'll call the police!"
I yelled back.
"Fine with me, I want you to call the police!"
The bookstore was empty except for me. A couple of would be muggers out front and a cowardly bookstore clerk in the backroom. I watched the boyfriend mugger through the front window give evil stares to anyone approaching the bookstore. It was comical how you could see people change their minds about going into the bookstore by body language and the expressions on their faces.
I yelled back to the store clerk.
"Hey Mr. Bookstore Owner how about closing your eyes and letting me run out your backdoor?"
"I've got a gun and I'll shot you if you come back here!"
"Great, everyone has a gun today but me."
All I wanted to do was buy a $20.00 art book, how did I become part of a three way book store stand off. That thought gave me an Idea. All of us in this little reality play were cowards at heart.
I could use that and the ego of Mr. Boyfriend Bully.
"I'm going to try something Mr. Bookstore Owner. If I die I'm going to haunt this bookstore and if I live I'm going to tell everyone what a coward you are!"
I walked over to the big window by the front door and tapped on it. Mr. and Mrs. Mugger turned and looked at me.
"I love books! I can stay in here all day. You two are going to miss the early show."
I turned and walked away like I wasn't scared at all. I just started shopping for books. I saw the mean stare from Mr. Mugger out of the corner of my eye. Mrs. Mugger was pulling on his arm begging him not to come into the store and beat me up. After a few minutes of this she won and the couple turned and walked away. I left the bookstore in stealth mode. The front door didn't have a bell on it and I opened and closed it as quiet as I could. I wanted Mr. Bookstore Owner to stay in the backroom for as long as possible.
I went directly to were my car was parked. I had somehow lost my parking ticket and the parking attendant told me that would cost me twenty dollars.
"See if you can read my license plate!" I said to the parking attendant as I speed off without paying. I looked in my rear view mirror as I speed out of Westport and thought to myself;
"Still no policemen to be found."
Note; This all happened before the age of cell phones.
Skateboard Bully
Who's the bully in this tale, me or the skateboard punk?
I lived 75 miles from my job and it was the worst job I ever had. I was wholesale live fish wrangler for 500 smelly fish tanks. One day after work at the end of the long drive home I came to a traffic jam in the small town I lived in. Finding a traffic jam in a town of 250 people didn't surprise me as I thought a farmer was driving a tractor through town.
There was 15 cars ahead of me going into town and I thought to myself; This is slow even for a tractor. For crying out loud I was only going under 10 miles a hour! I turned into the town from the highway and when I got home going down Arctic Street I saw what was holding up traffic.
Two kids on skateboards where taking there sweet time going down the highway and holding up traffic. No one honked at them or anything. I got out of my car and started yelling at them.
The dark hair boy of the two started calling me every curse word known to man.
My response is not something I'm proud of saying.
"When you turn 18, it would be better that you never find yourself alone on the same street with me."
As I walked into the house I thought; "I shouldn't have said that, he's a punk kid of 13 or 14."
Directly behind my house was a large parking lot (Large by Kingsville's standards) where the two skateboarders were heading towards when they rolled down the highway. For years the bank parking lot had been used as a hangout for teenagers and young adults to drink beer, do drugs and have sex. I never understood why the bank put up with it. Still don't but it had drove me crazy to the point I did some very extreme things to stop these in town underage parties.
Nothing worked and I only made myself the town fool in the process. I had a vision of a kid getting cut in the parking lot and thought I could change that but for all my trouble it still happened. My father's best friend oldest son got his chest cut up in the parking lot of the bank.
The boy that cut his chest loved dogs and Bobby had thrown rocks at his dog. The boy got him drunk and cut his chest after he passed out. For ten years this put an end to the parking lot parties. The boy went to jail and Bobby went to the hospital.
The day ended and night fell and the parties came back because of me. Because I threatened a young teenage boy. I would have just taken the abuse since I had some of that coming to me but when they threaten my then wife and mother that was too much. I call the Johnson County Missouri Police Department and they sent a police car out with sirens on. Before I heard the sirens the parking lot thugs drove off. The police found an empty parking lot.
An hour after the police left the parking lot filled up with the drunken punks. I looked at the gang of fools from my back yard. One of them yelled out.
"Hey Vollrath! Do you know what a police scanner is?"
Night after night the same thing happened until finally the police quit coming. It was easier to say I was a liar than to solve the problem. I asked the police not to call it in to a police car but to send one directly from the station. I asked them not to use the siren when they came but the police didn't want to know the truth. We did have a town sheriff but I had a low opinion of him.
Ray with his wife had beat up the man who would be my Brother-in -Law because they believed him to the father of their Grandson. Jeff my wife's brother didn't deserve to be beaten up by the town sheriff and his equally mean wife because my friend Tim was the man that got their daughter pregnant. Sheriff Ray's Grandson was the skateboard punk that cursed me and had rode his board down 58 highway. I didn't know that at the time.
I had a chance meeting with Sheriff Ray and his friend City Councilman Gene at the post office.
I asked them to stop what was going on at the bank parking lot.
"It can't be stopped and you're making a big deal out of nothing."
Said the dumbest Sheriff I ever knew. At that I remember that I saw this town sheriff wear his shoulder holster with gun in place at a high school basketball game. The shoulder holster was on backwards over a dress shirt. Why was I talking to this stupid criminal that beat up Jeff?
Then Gene piped up.
"You can't stop teenagers from being teenagers!"
My anger boiled up and I exploded in rant of words at the two men.
"My wife and mother are being threaten with rape and murder! I'm being threaten with murder! Cowards like you two shouldn't be part of city government! You know I'm getting death threats from people on bank property, so I'll just call the FBI and name names next time it happens!"
It never happen again. There was no more bank beer parties.
Work in progress. My in draft save isn't working all the time so I'm posting this unfinished version of the story and will hand write a version to work off of. This is half the story and it gets more complex in the second half.
Years later I was doing some artwork for a movie. Simple little job, all I had to do was draw a tattoo with washable ink on an actors arm. The script called for a primitive sub-human creature that embodied rage. The actor was a nervous wreak and keep looking at me with fear.
"Don't worry this tattoo isn't really possessed. I'm the only one possessed around here."
He looked at me like I was going to kill him.
I know it was a bad joke but I was just trying to lighten things up. I was in a barber shop and everyone was quiet as I finished the drawing on the young man's arm. I told the director goodbye and walked out.
That night I got a call from Eric the Director about Chris the actor, the man I drew the fake tattoo on.
"Chris told me to apologies to you."
"For what?"
"For all those death threats that small town gang made against you when he was a kid and he said something about you were almost his uncle. What does that mean?"
I didn't reconizes Chris as a man. A flood of memories came back to me. I remembered the first time I saw Chris. A four month old baby boy and he looked like a little version of his father Tim. A week later I was trying to talk my Brother-in-Law Jeff into signing a form so baby Chris could have his last name changed.
"I'm not leaving your apartment till you sign this Jeff! That is not your child."
Jeff finally signed it and I gave the paperwork to Jackie my then wife and Jeff's little sister.
Jackie gave the paperwork to Chris's mom.
It was Chis that I yelled at for being such a skateboard punk.
I told Eric the long story. Eric said that Chris was willing to apologies in person.
"No, what he said to you is all the apology I need. My revenge was how nervous he was in that barber's chair as I drew on his arm."
I hung up the phone and laughed.
Chris and I had only meet three times in our lives. How we had changed each others lives in those three visits.
I lived 75 miles from my job and it was the worst job I ever had. I was wholesale live fish wrangler for 500 smelly fish tanks. One day after work at the end of the long drive home I came to a traffic jam in the small town I lived in. Finding a traffic jam in a town of 250 people didn't surprise me as I thought a farmer was driving a tractor through town.
There was 15 cars ahead of me going into town and I thought to myself; This is slow even for a tractor. For crying out loud I was only going under 10 miles a hour! I turned into the town from the highway and when I got home going down Arctic Street I saw what was holding up traffic.
Two kids on skateboards where taking there sweet time going down the highway and holding up traffic. No one honked at them or anything. I got out of my car and started yelling at them.
The dark hair boy of the two started calling me every curse word known to man.
My response is not something I'm proud of saying.
"When you turn 18, it would be better that you never find yourself alone on the same street with me."
As I walked into the house I thought; "I shouldn't have said that, he's a punk kid of 13 or 14."
Directly behind my house was a large parking lot (Large by Kingsville's standards) where the two skateboarders were heading towards when they rolled down the highway. For years the bank parking lot had been used as a hangout for teenagers and young adults to drink beer, do drugs and have sex. I never understood why the bank put up with it. Still don't but it had drove me crazy to the point I did some very extreme things to stop these in town underage parties.
Nothing worked and I only made myself the town fool in the process. I had a vision of a kid getting cut in the parking lot and thought I could change that but for all my trouble it still happened. My father's best friend oldest son got his chest cut up in the parking lot of the bank.
The boy that cut his chest loved dogs and Bobby had thrown rocks at his dog. The boy got him drunk and cut his chest after he passed out. For ten years this put an end to the parking lot parties. The boy went to jail and Bobby went to the hospital.
The day ended and night fell and the parties came back because of me. Because I threatened a young teenage boy. I would have just taken the abuse since I had some of that coming to me but when they threaten my then wife and mother that was too much. I call the Johnson County Missouri Police Department and they sent a police car out with sirens on. Before I heard the sirens the parking lot thugs drove off. The police found an empty parking lot.
An hour after the police left the parking lot filled up with the drunken punks. I looked at the gang of fools from my back yard. One of them yelled out.
"Hey Vollrath! Do you know what a police scanner is?"
Night after night the same thing happened until finally the police quit coming. It was easier to say I was a liar than to solve the problem. I asked the police not to call it in to a police car but to send one directly from the station. I asked them not to use the siren when they came but the police didn't want to know the truth. We did have a town sheriff but I had a low opinion of him.
Ray with his wife had beat up the man who would be my Brother-in -Law because they believed him to the father of their Grandson. Jeff my wife's brother didn't deserve to be beaten up by the town sheriff and his equally mean wife because my friend Tim was the man that got their daughter pregnant. Sheriff Ray's Grandson was the skateboard punk that cursed me and had rode his board down 58 highway. I didn't know that at the time.
I had a chance meeting with Sheriff Ray and his friend City Councilman Gene at the post office.
I asked them to stop what was going on at the bank parking lot.
"It can't be stopped and you're making a big deal out of nothing."
Said the dumbest Sheriff I ever knew. At that I remember that I saw this town sheriff wear his shoulder holster with gun in place at a high school basketball game. The shoulder holster was on backwards over a dress shirt. Why was I talking to this stupid criminal that beat up Jeff?
Then Gene piped up.
"You can't stop teenagers from being teenagers!"
My anger boiled up and I exploded in rant of words at the two men.
"My wife and mother are being threaten with rape and murder! I'm being threaten with murder! Cowards like you two shouldn't be part of city government! You know I'm getting death threats from people on bank property, so I'll just call the FBI and name names next time it happens!"
It never happen again. There was no more bank beer parties.
Work in progress. My in draft save isn't working all the time so I'm posting this unfinished version of the story and will hand write a version to work off of. This is half the story and it gets more complex in the second half.
Years later I was doing some artwork for a movie. Simple little job, all I had to do was draw a tattoo with washable ink on an actors arm. The script called for a primitive sub-human creature that embodied rage. The actor was a nervous wreak and keep looking at me with fear.
"Don't worry this tattoo isn't really possessed. I'm the only one possessed around here."
He looked at me like I was going to kill him.
I know it was a bad joke but I was just trying to lighten things up. I was in a barber shop and everyone was quiet as I finished the drawing on the young man's arm. I told the director goodbye and walked out.
That night I got a call from Eric the Director about Chris the actor, the man I drew the fake tattoo on.
"Chris told me to apologies to you."
"For what?"
"For all those death threats that small town gang made against you when he was a kid and he said something about you were almost his uncle. What does that mean?"
I didn't reconizes Chris as a man. A flood of memories came back to me. I remembered the first time I saw Chris. A four month old baby boy and he looked like a little version of his father Tim. A week later I was trying to talk my Brother-in-Law Jeff into signing a form so baby Chris could have his last name changed.
"I'm not leaving your apartment till you sign this Jeff! That is not your child."
Jeff finally signed it and I gave the paperwork to Jackie my then wife and Jeff's little sister.
Jackie gave the paperwork to Chris's mom.
It was Chis that I yelled at for being such a skateboard punk.
I told Eric the long story. Eric said that Chris was willing to apologies in person.
"No, what he said to you is all the apology I need. My revenge was how nervous he was in that barber's chair as I drew on his arm."
I hung up the phone and laughed.
Chris and I had only meet three times in our lives. How we had changed each others lives in those three visits.
The Rant
Lies. A world built on lies. All my words are lies because I can't capture the truth, my truth and your truth in words. All words, all books are lies twisted out of a reality beyond the words built from the imaginations of others.
Can you capture my value or any one's value by a mathematical equation? No you can't and nor should you. With numbers you can tell larger lies that approach the infinite.
So where do you find the truth? In a moment of love beyond the infinite and less than the smallest quota of the finite. Is love only a word? We all know better than that.
To love everything, the good along with the evil and know everything as a living thing that you are part of is the greatest of all loves. I have been given many gifts in a magical life that becomes more magical each day.
What of magic, is it real? No it is only a beautiful lie we tell ourselves because we can't see the truth. No magic words cast in spells can be found in this or any other reality.
This post was inspired by the blog Nardeeisms and the post in that blog; Song of the day:
In a New York Minute-Don Henley
Can you capture my value or any one's value by a mathematical equation? No you can't and nor should you. With numbers you can tell larger lies that approach the infinite.
So where do you find the truth? In a moment of love beyond the infinite and less than the smallest quota of the finite. Is love only a word? We all know better than that.
To love everything, the good along with the evil and know everything as a living thing that you are part of is the greatest of all loves. I have been given many gifts in a magical life that becomes more magical each day.
What of magic, is it real? No it is only a beautiful lie we tell ourselves because we can't see the truth. No magic words cast in spells can be found in this or any other reality.
This post was inspired by the blog Nardeeisms and the post in that blog; Song of the day:
In a New York Minute-Don Henley
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Thinking without Words
Writing is becoming very hard of late because as a earlier post stated I'm rewiring my brain.
This post is about trying to fix my brain with imaginary balls of colored energy but I also want to write about thinking without words. I believe the two things are related.
I've gone over five days without a twitch in my face or left arm. This is a miracle to me as at one time I didn't believe I could go a day without having a big seizure after my car wreck.
The car wreck happened in 1975 but as late as 2002 I would have times when I couldn't remember my name or anything else. I would be thinking in pure emotion. Strange and confusing to say the least these few minutes of my life opened a doorway to heal my own mind.
Without the distraction of words you can focus all of your creative energy into a force of nature.
In this wordless realm I threw balls of colored energy at my broken mind and fixed a part of it I didn't think could be fixed.
The woman I'm dating now and I, Half Speak to each other. I don't know what this is or how it works. It's weird in the extreme and goes to the top of my personal X-files list. If Patty and I didn't Half Speak to each other I wouldn't have found a way to fix the part of my mind that caused me the most pain.
Half Speaking isn't finishing the other person's sentence. Half Speaking in not finishing the other person's sentence and knowing what is meant. Soon you have a conversation full of half sentences that don't make any sense to anyone listening to you and your partner in Half Speaking. Why do these half conversations make any sense to Patty and I? I don't know.
Church Bully
I was eleven and he was seven. He was picking on preschoolers and the adults didn't see it.
We were at a church picnic. I was the oldest kid there. I thought to myself;
"He's younger than you let a an adult handle it."
He was slick in his cruelty always knocking a kid over when no adult was looking.
I started to charge him several times but when I did he would make a noise. The adults would look his way and I would stop my attack.
He just kept knocking kids over and looking at me smiling as if to say I dare you to snitch.
The little kids ran crying to their mothers too afraid to tell what happened.
"Just slow down and don't play so rough."
"Yes mommy."
One little boy walked past me and gave me a look that said it all. In his eyes were written; why don't you stop this?
I saw the Church Bully chase down a kid and hit him as hard as he could in the middle of the back knocking him to the ground. I ran towards the bully and he made a noise but I didn't care.
All the adults were looking at me chasing him down and hitting him in the middle of back.
The Church Bully fell to the ground crying louder than any of the preschoolers. He was still crying when his family left the picnic. I felt like a fool for playing his game and was embarrassed I hit him. Jesus wouldn't have hit him. The only thing that made me feel better was that some of the preschoolers smiled at me before they left with their parents.
When I got home my parents talked to me about what happened.
I never saw the boy that was the Church Bully, bully anyone again. We became friends and he started riding unicycles because I rode unicycles around town.
As an adult I'm a world class snitch. I don't care if you're a beggar or a billionaire if you hurt little kids you'll pay a price you can't imagine.
We were at a church picnic. I was the oldest kid there. I thought to myself;
"He's younger than you let a an adult handle it."
He was slick in his cruelty always knocking a kid over when no adult was looking.
I started to charge him several times but when I did he would make a noise. The adults would look his way and I would stop my attack.
He just kept knocking kids over and looking at me smiling as if to say I dare you to snitch.
The little kids ran crying to their mothers too afraid to tell what happened.
"Just slow down and don't play so rough."
"Yes mommy."
One little boy walked past me and gave me a look that said it all. In his eyes were written; why don't you stop this?
I saw the Church Bully chase down a kid and hit him as hard as he could in the middle of the back knocking him to the ground. I ran towards the bully and he made a noise but I didn't care.
All the adults were looking at me chasing him down and hitting him in the middle of back.
The Church Bully fell to the ground crying louder than any of the preschoolers. He was still crying when his family left the picnic. I felt like a fool for playing his game and was embarrassed I hit him. Jesus wouldn't have hit him. The only thing that made me feel better was that some of the preschoolers smiled at me before they left with their parents.
When I got home my parents talked to me about what happened.
I never saw the boy that was the Church Bully, bully anyone again. We became friends and he started riding unicycles because I rode unicycles around town.
As an adult I'm a world class snitch. I don't care if you're a beggar or a billionaire if you hurt little kids you'll pay a price you can't imagine.
Friday, September 12, 2008
What to Write?
I know what I want to write. I want to write about all the things I shouldn't write about.
I want to write about flying atomic reactors that UFO stories are pinned on.
I want to write about how criminals are stealing the world using the paper lie of corporations.
I want to write about how all sides fix elections.
I want to write about things I know but shouldn't know.
I want to write about the knowing.
That impossible way of knowing something without knowing it. I don't know how to put it in words. I can't pretend anymore this reality is all there is. I haven't know Patty very long but she has changed my life more than anyone else. I'm not crazy it was all real but I can't explain it in words. Our conversations don't make any sense when I try to write them down. Words are missing and we speak in a half English. I want to write about this most of all but I can't make the connections in my mind to put it to words.
Words are all lies. Science is the politics of half truths. Magic is a lie we tell ourselves in the dark.
Some things you can't capture with words but that is the things I want to write about.
Patty is a woman I'm dating now that was in a coma for two years. She is a walking miracle and a wonderful person I have a lot in common with beside the boarder lands between life and death.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Soul Bound
Two weeks before the evil of 9/11 I began to write a script about ghosts in a skyscraper.
I rented a small plane and shot some movie footage of skyscrapers in Kansas City Missouri.
I decided I would buy a cell phone and rent the plane again. I would talk to someone with the cell phone from the plane to the skyscraper observation deck of city hall in Kansas City Missouri.
I would video tape the whole thing.
Can I see the future? No, I never made any connections to the events that unfolded on that terrible day. Was there a vibe in the air? I think so but with things like this there is doubt.
Why am I writing this here? I don't know. This day is still painful and I want to make sense out of it and I never will.
The footage I shot of Kansas City from the air was sold to Limelight Productions and may be in the movie Begging for Billionaires.
Only my movie partner Richard Hirsch saw part of the script called Soul Bound before 9/11.
After 9/11 the second movie wasn't done and I never even looked at the script Soul Bound much less tried to finish it.
I rented a small plane and shot some movie footage of skyscrapers in Kansas City Missouri.
I decided I would buy a cell phone and rent the plane again. I would talk to someone with the cell phone from the plane to the skyscraper observation deck of city hall in Kansas City Missouri.
I would video tape the whole thing.
Can I see the future? No, I never made any connections to the events that unfolded on that terrible day. Was there a vibe in the air? I think so but with things like this there is doubt.
Why am I writing this here? I don't know. This day is still painful and I want to make sense out of it and I never will.
The footage I shot of Kansas City from the air was sold to Limelight Productions and may be in the movie Begging for Billionaires.
Only my movie partner Richard Hirsch saw part of the script called Soul Bound before 9/11.
After 9/11 the second movie wasn't done and I never even looked at the script Soul Bound much less tried to finish it.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wizard Club
My marriage had ended and my sons were men so after many years I began dating again.
I'm not a ladies man as any woman that I've dated will tell you. I had dated some younger women but felt like a fool doing so. I began dating women my age or a little older and this seemed to work for me. I won't name the woman that I was dating that introduced me to the Wizard Club. She had a stronger sense of the spiritual world than I did. I was lost in impossible visions and a soul vision I could control only part of the time. I was in pain from tearing myself from paradise.
I wanted the sweet embrace of death and would sometime pray to God to give me that but God had other plans for me. The Wizard Club was a rest stop along my inner journey to inner peace I had found and lost. I can't remember the names of any of the would be wizards I meet there.
Even if I knew the names of the members of the Wizard Club I wouldn't tell you here.
I began doing the spirit drawings at this club for those that would create real magic.
This drawing of a middle age modern wizard looks a little like Harry Potter.
I was tempted to add a scare to his forehead.
White Picket Fence
I promised my daughter-in-law Amanda that I would help her and my son finish painting their white picket fence in the front yard of their house. So far I've given them seven gallons of white paint and done some of the painting. I love spending time with Amanda, Micheal and Cordelia so I decided to honor my promise and help finish the job.
I went over to their house without calling and no one was home. I got out of my car and just started painting. I painted the small part of the fence that didn't have any paint on it. As I was putting a coat of white on the last of the unpainted wood my family pulled into the driveway.
When Cordelia saw me from her car seat a big smile came upon her face. I no longer wanted to paint, I just wanted to play with my grand daughter. Micheal saw that look on my face and took over the painting job. Amanda had to go to work and soon I was watching Cordelia by myself.
I forgot both my hats so our game of 'Where is Grandpa's Hat' couldn't be played.
Cordelia showed me all her new toys she got for her birthday and we played with them all.
As we played I realized Cordelia trusted me completely, never crying for her mom or dad.
Cordelia sat on my lap watching her father paint the fence for over a hour and was content.
I took her on three trips around the neighborhood in her new wagon and she never cried once for her parents.
When did I gain this little girl's trust? I don't know but it is a good feeling.
After Micheal was done painting for the day we went out to eat. Cordelia fell asleep in the car and wouldn't wake up in the restaurant, so she sleep in my arms as we ate.
When we got back to her house Micheal gently woke her so I could say goodbye.
As I drove off I thought there is nothing better than being a grand father.
I went over to their house without calling and no one was home. I got out of my car and just started painting. I painted the small part of the fence that didn't have any paint on it. As I was putting a coat of white on the last of the unpainted wood my family pulled into the driveway.
When Cordelia saw me from her car seat a big smile came upon her face. I no longer wanted to paint, I just wanted to play with my grand daughter. Micheal saw that look on my face and took over the painting job. Amanda had to go to work and soon I was watching Cordelia by myself.
I forgot both my hats so our game of 'Where is Grandpa's Hat' couldn't be played.
Cordelia showed me all her new toys she got for her birthday and we played with them all.
As we played I realized Cordelia trusted me completely, never crying for her mom or dad.
Cordelia sat on my lap watching her father paint the fence for over a hour and was content.
I took her on three trips around the neighborhood in her new wagon and she never cried once for her parents.
When did I gain this little girl's trust? I don't know but it is a good feeling.
After Micheal was done painting for the day we went out to eat. Cordelia fell asleep in the car and wouldn't wake up in the restaurant, so she sleep in my arms as we ate.
When we got back to her house Micheal gently woke her so I could say goodbye.
As I drove off I thought there is nothing better than being a grand father.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Four Elements
These drawings of living words I call the Four Elements but I don't know why.
I now have a myspace page that has a blog with four line spirit stories on it.
myspace.com/1958rav
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Living Word
A drawing of one of the Living Words I saw between the realities of life and death.The crystal part of the Living Word turned inside out as it sang rainbows at me.
The sphere part of the Living Word danced with a swirl of color with knowledge more complex than all the books ever written or ever will be written.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Birthday Girl and Two Hugs
I am so tired. I'm not a party person. I can't even handle a party for a one year old.
My beautiful Grand Daughter Cordelia Olivia Vollrath was one year old today.
I bought her a used car. I got her one of those toddler car for $15.00. A thrift store employee priced if for himself to buy but I grabbed the car before he could time out at the end of the day.
All is fair in Love and Birthdays.
A man at the party stole $20.00 from my parents many years ago and then lied about the dirty deed, paid me back. I gave him a hug and forgave him.
My son and I gave his daughter and wife a dozen roses each. A red rose for each month Amanda gave care to my Grand Daughter. A pink rose for each month Cordelia gave joy to us all.
My ex-wife and I talked and the lady I'm dating now, was at the party. That was a first, my ex-wife meeting a women I'm dating. My new found inner peace made this a non-event.
My Grand Daughter let me hold her and we even had time to play 'Where is Grandpa's Hat?'
No coughing game on her Birthday as my asthma wasn't bad.
I tried to talk to everybody and when I went back to talk to Patty my girlfriend, I saw her leaving with her best friend Rosie in the distance. Rosie is Cordelia's Great Grandmother on her Mother's side of the family. Patty rode to the party with Rosie and I felt like a fool not to offer her a ride home.
The party ended and I said my goodbye to Cordelia. As I drove home I wished I had offered Patty that ride home. My cell phone rang and it was Patty asking if I wanted to come to her apartment. She meet me in the park where the party was and I followed her back home.
We talked for hours and when I left she gave me a hug goodbye. It was only our second date if you can call hanging out and talking a date. Like me she was in the borderlands between life and death. We seem to talk in terms only we can understand. We will be life long friends but is there more than friendship in our future? Only time will tell.
The Drill
"Where is my drill? You know the one that plugs in?"
"I don't know dad, didn't Micheal borrow it?"
Yes Micheal did borrow it and it was my fault because Micheal was my son.
I made the long drive and got the drill but I didn't care even if this kept me away from art and writing because I got to see my grand daughter again.
"I don't know dad, didn't Micheal borrow it?"
Yes Micheal did borrow it and it was my fault because Micheal was my son.
I made the long drive and got the drill but I didn't care even if this kept me away from art and writing because I got to see my grand daughter again.
Friday, September 5, 2008
I Forgive you Grandpa
"I came by to say I'm sorry Cordelia."
She had cried three hour the night before because I didn't say goodbye.
I stood in the door waiting for her pout to change to a smile.
"Please forgive me Cordelia. I never want you angry with me. I'll always say goodbye."
Amanda my Daughter-in-Law held Cordelia in her arms.
"Do you want to go to your Grandpa?"
Cordelia made a noise that told us both that I would need to work harder for her forgiveness.
"You don't have to come to me Cordelia. I know I made a mistake."
Her head tilted down to hide her smile. The smile said I forgive you Grandpa but don't let it happen again.
I came in the house of my son and daughter-in-law and Cordelia let me hold her.
We played our game of where is Grandpa's hat and laughter filled the small house from a little girl.
I said goodbye and left Cordelia with love in her eyes.
This is part two of the post; Always Say Goodbye
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Cruising on a Coral Reef
Imagine a network of private Islands connected by tubes covered in Coral Reefs cruising warm tropical waters.
More to come...
Fly the Friendly Underground
Trains that can fly. These tube trains were invented by Joseph V. Foe. I'm creating my own version of the flying train out of photos of what has come before.
More to come....
Health Careless
The Doctor was smoking a pipe in the Birthing Room.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Does the pipe bother you and your wife?"
"Yes! Get out of the room!"
"I'll be back."
The fat man dressed as a doctor said in anger as he left the birthing room.
The fat doctor returned with more doctors and they told me my unborn child was endangered because the cord was wrapped around his or hers neck.
"I don't believe you."
"I'm a doctor how can you question my opinion?"
"I question your opinion because you're an arrogant stupid doctor without any proof. Now I want to talk to your superior in this hospital."
A few minutes later his superior entered the birthing room.
"What seems to be the problem?"
I was about to make a bad decision that could have killed my son.
"I want you to induce labor before your staff of keystone cop doctors kill my unborn child."
Without saying another word the fool doctor did just that.
Before I go on let me say there are many good doctors and hospitals in the world but this place wasn't a good hospital and no good doctors were to be found.
"I was in the labor room watching the so called doctor prepare to give my then wife a shot for the pain before doing a.....
Work in Progress. More to come....
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Does the pipe bother you and your wife?"
"Yes! Get out of the room!"
"I'll be back."
The fat man dressed as a doctor said in anger as he left the birthing room.
The fat doctor returned with more doctors and they told me my unborn child was endangered because the cord was wrapped around his or hers neck.
"I don't believe you."
"I'm a doctor how can you question my opinion?"
"I question your opinion because you're an arrogant stupid doctor without any proof. Now I want to talk to your superior in this hospital."
A few minutes later his superior entered the birthing room.
"What seems to be the problem?"
I was about to make a bad decision that could have killed my son.
"I want you to induce labor before your staff of keystone cop doctors kill my unborn child."
Without saying another word the fool doctor did just that.
Before I go on let me say there are many good doctors and hospitals in the world but this place wasn't a good hospital and no good doctors were to be found.
"I was in the labor room watching the so called doctor prepare to give my then wife a shot for the pain before doing a.....
Work in Progress. More to come....
Pardon my Politics
Politics are the death of truth. I hate the concept of politics and yet I can see patterns in these vortex of lies that others are blind too. I don't care how you vote or if you vote. I will vote but with the corruption of the election process I don't know if my vote will count. Don't live in a fantasy world, both sides cheat.
I will never talk about who I vote for again. Who cares?
"Tell me who you're voting for. I won't make fun of you."
I'm tied of that lie.
Election campaigns are cesspools of emotional folly that destroy logic. We've never had a system of government in all of human history, just systems of bribery.
Please put your hate speech away because no one wants to hear about your politics.
Years ago my best subject in college wasn't art but Political Science. The head of the department asked me to change my major.
"Robert you missed half my classes, never read the text book and you still pulled a B in my class. Your a natural, don't you think you should change your major?"
"No, I hate Political Science."
I don't hate the people running for office, political parties or voters, I just hate the mind numbing process called politics.
I will never talk about who I vote for again. Who cares?
"Tell me who you're voting for. I won't make fun of you."
I'm tied of that lie.
Election campaigns are cesspools of emotional folly that destroy logic. We've never had a system of government in all of human history, just systems of bribery.
Please put your hate speech away because no one wants to hear about your politics.
Years ago my best subject in college wasn't art but Political Science. The head of the department asked me to change my major.
"Robert you missed half my classes, never read the text book and you still pulled a B in my class. Your a natural, don't you think you should change your major?"
"No, I hate Political Science."
I don't hate the people running for office, political parties or voters, I just hate the mind numbing process called politics.
The Billion Year Spree
I was less than a virus in a rock falling towards Earth. I fell into the world ocean of the planet and became more than I was. I was a mushroom growing across the landscape before the first plant was created. I breathed oxygen through my gills and knew I would be more when my fruit began to rot.
I crawled upon the land and shed my gills but my young still needed the water to grow in.
I could be more and took to the air on transparent wings. I became giant beasts of the land and eons later became a master of imagination in human form.
I am life. I am a force of nature. I am infinite imagination. If I die I will be reborn. I am eternal.
I crawled upon the land and shed my gills but my young still needed the water to grow in.
I could be more and took to the air on transparent wings. I became giant beasts of the land and eons later became a master of imagination in human form.
I am life. I am a force of nature. I am infinite imagination. If I die I will be reborn. I am eternal.
Always say Goodbye
My mother was angry at my Grandfather English for leaving without saying goodbye. I guess this happened in the late 1940's or early 1950's. He had just learned to type and gave her this note.
She carries it with her in her purse to remember his love for her.
I forgot to say goodbye to my Grand Daughter. No, that's not true. I thought I didn't need to say goodbye to my Grand Daughter.
Her mother was changing her diaper in the back room and I just left.
When I got home the phone rang.
"Dad, you didn't say goodbye to Cordelia and she has been crying and looking for you for three hours! Talk to her on the phone. She won't go to sleep and you've broke her little heart. She wanted to play with you."
"Cordelia, Grandpa is sorry. I love you."
"Rhhaahh Rha Rhhhhaaaaah!"
"Please forgive me Cordelia."
"Ahhh Ah Ahhh Rhaa."
Mike my son comes back on the phone.
"I think she'll go to sleep now but is she angry with you!"
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Terror of the Toy Robots
I was dreaming about toy robots. I was trying to build giant robots based on the toy robots of my childhood but something was wrong. The people I was building these giant toy robots for were going to use them for evil. So I left their factory and I moved to the desert.
In the desert I painted landscapes in oil paints. I was happy until one day the giant toy robots came to my beautiful desert. The giant toy robots were laying asphalt over the desert.
I put my paintbrush down and picked up a slingshot from my easel. I held the slingshot in my left hand and opened my empty right hand. From my imagination I projected balls of energy the size of golf balls into my right hand. I fired the energy balls at the giant toy robots. They all fell in a great heap of broken machinery and asphalt. When I was done and there was no more giant toy robots to fell with my slingshot I began to paint a picture of toy robot mountain in the morning light.
In the desert I painted landscapes in oil paints. I was happy until one day the giant toy robots came to my beautiful desert. The giant toy robots were laying asphalt over the desert.
I put my paintbrush down and picked up a slingshot from my easel. I held the slingshot in my left hand and opened my empty right hand. From my imagination I projected balls of energy the size of golf balls into my right hand. I fired the energy balls at the giant toy robots. They all fell in a great heap of broken machinery and asphalt. When I was done and there was no more giant toy robots to fell with my slingshot I began to paint a picture of toy robot mountain in the morning light.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Cotton Candy and a Horse
I am the goofy Grandfather. How did I live before my Grand Children? I miss Denver so I see Cordelia more and more but it does not ease the pain in my heart for those lost moments with Denver.
My asthma makes my life miserable. My throat burns from the invisible predator of pollution from coal burning power plants. I cough and gasp for air. I must live to see my Grandson. I must live to be with my Granddaughter.
I drive the long drive to Independence Missouri to see my Granddaughter. My lungs burn and my finger tips are numb. Now my toes are numb and I'm seeing spots. I'm not getting enough oxygen so I pull the car over to a parking lot.
"Please God let me breath."
I get a drink of soda and find some cough drops in the car. I feel nothing but pain but I drive on.
I pull into the driveway of my son's house. I feel a hundred years old as I pull myself out of my car. Death stalks me as I walk though their white picket fence and knock on the front door.
"Come on in."
I enter and my beautiful extended family is in the living room. Cordelia smiles when she sees me and I forget the pain in my limbs.
"Do you want to go to the fair with us dad?"
We're all walking to the fair on the court house square.
I volunteer to push Cordelia in her stroller the half mile to the fair. She looks back at me as I push her with a huge grin on her face, like its some kind of honor to have me push her. Cordelia's parents walk in front of us holding hands and Cordelia giggles at the sight of this.
My throat is closing up and my lungs begin to burn again. Fingers and toes start to go numb.
My legs ache more with each step. My son sees I'm having trouble breathing and offers to push Cordelia. I say I'm fine and pretend the pain isn't there. Soon I'm having trouble keeping up with my son and his wife.
"Dad let me take over."
I let my son push the stroller and wonder what happened to the man that walked twenty miles every Saturday.
Seeing the fair through my grand daughters eyes was wonderful. She tasted Cotton Candy for the first time and loved it. When we were leaving we walked over to a horse that was pulling a wagon for rides at the fair. With a little coxing from her mom, dad and me, Cordelia petted her first horse. She giggled as she touched the gentle beast forehead.
I drove home that night in pain but my asthma hadn't defeated me for I saw my grand daughter with cotton candy and a horse.
My asthma makes my life miserable. My throat burns from the invisible predator of pollution from coal burning power plants. I cough and gasp for air. I must live to see my Grandson. I must live to be with my Granddaughter.
I drive the long drive to Independence Missouri to see my Granddaughter. My lungs burn and my finger tips are numb. Now my toes are numb and I'm seeing spots. I'm not getting enough oxygen so I pull the car over to a parking lot.
"Please God let me breath."
I get a drink of soda and find some cough drops in the car. I feel nothing but pain but I drive on.
I pull into the driveway of my son's house. I feel a hundred years old as I pull myself out of my car. Death stalks me as I walk though their white picket fence and knock on the front door.
"Come on in."
I enter and my beautiful extended family is in the living room. Cordelia smiles when she sees me and I forget the pain in my limbs.
"Do you want to go to the fair with us dad?"
We're all walking to the fair on the court house square.
I volunteer to push Cordelia in her stroller the half mile to the fair. She looks back at me as I push her with a huge grin on her face, like its some kind of honor to have me push her. Cordelia's parents walk in front of us holding hands and Cordelia giggles at the sight of this.
My throat is closing up and my lungs begin to burn again. Fingers and toes start to go numb.
My legs ache more with each step. My son sees I'm having trouble breathing and offers to push Cordelia. I say I'm fine and pretend the pain isn't there. Soon I'm having trouble keeping up with my son and his wife.
"Dad let me take over."
I let my son push the stroller and wonder what happened to the man that walked twenty miles every Saturday.
Seeing the fair through my grand daughters eyes was wonderful. She tasted Cotton Candy for the first time and loved it. When we were leaving we walked over to a horse that was pulling a wagon for rides at the fair. With a little coxing from her mom, dad and me, Cordelia petted her first horse. She giggled as she touched the gentle beast forehead.
I drove home that night in pain but my asthma hadn't defeated me for I saw my grand daughter with cotton candy and a horse.
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