Thursday, July 31, 2008

The Flu


The flu is the one bully that always knocks me on my back. No matter how sick I get I still try to write or do art. This photo collage with marker overwork is just how I felt with this last bout with the flu. I created this while I had the flu.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

How to deal with Bullies

How should people deal with bullies?

Handle it yourself by standing up to the bully. I've done that with mixed outcomes.

To me the best way to handle a bully is a fine line between walking away from the conflict and forcing the bully to face his or hers own fear and shame if the conflict erupts into violence.

I've done this many times when I had no other choice.

I've been guilty of bullying bullies and that is really something no one should do.

When does teasing become bullying? I've been guilty of crossing that line myself. Words can be deadly weapons and I've hurt many people with my words.

One of the most effective ways to deal with bullies is not to deal with them. Two members of my family have been bullies all their lives. I don't see my aunt and uncle anymore. No bully is worth your time.

Write a story about the bully. That's what I'm doing on this blog. I'm trying to understand what I did right and what I did wrong in dealing with bullies. I hope my stories help my grandchildren deal with bullies. I hope my stories can help people of all ages deal with bullies.

Tell someone anyone about being bullied. I've told my parents, told the teacher, called the police, talked to the media, protested in the streets, and went to Human Resources with my complaints about bullies. I've even shoved a video camera in the face of some rich and powerful bullies.

There is no proven way to deal with bullies. I'll keep telling Bully Tales and maybe we can find a way to put an end to these tiny terrorist by softening their hearts before they become tomorrows criminals.

Little League Bully

I can't remember the name of the Little League Bully, lets call him John.

I was in my last year of playing in Little League Baseball and John was half way through the process.

My age group had just finished practice and John's age was going to start practice in a few minutes.

I was hanging around the ball park waiting for traffic to die down before I rode my bike the mile and a half back to town. The Pee Wee players had been dropped off early that day and while the adults were sorting equipment John walked over to the Pee Wee players and started knocking them to the ground out of pure mean fun.

I got off my bike and walked over to John. John had his back to me and had picked up a little kid by his shirt. I tapped John on the shoulder.

"Quit picking on these little kids."

John sat the little kid down and turned around to face me.

"What..."

Before he could say anything I picked him up by his shirt and spoke to him.

"If I ever see you pick on these kids again I'll beat you to a bloody pulp!"

I threw John to the ground. I walked over to my bike and rode home and never thought about what happened for years.

I was 17 and just got my drivers license and had started dating. I thought my days of facing bullies was behind me but my so called friends at school told me that John wanted to fight me.

"John who?"

"The guy you beat up in Little League Baseball."

"I never beat up anyone in .... Oh, I did knock this kid down to the ground for picking on the Pee Wee players. He's holding a grudge because of that?"

"He says you're the only person he backed down from and he's going to kick your butt now that he's old enough to beat you in a fair fight."

"This is real silly. Tell him I don't care."

The next day a group of so called friends came and told me he called me a coward.

"Fine, I'm a coward, its over with."

The next day a larger group of so called friends told me I was making him angry and making fun of him. That if I didn't come downtown that night to fight him he would come after me.

"Fine. I'm glad I'm making him angry and I am making fun of his fool's pride. He knows where I live and my number is in the book. Tell the coward that picks on little kids I'm not scared of him and if he wants to fight me that he needs to give me a call."

He never called me.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Fried Eyes

Taking a break from blogging to let my eyes heal from too much writing on the computer.

Plan to post a lot of drawings and videos when I return, which knowing me will be sooner than later.

The novel I'm working on (the first draft is hand written) is going faster than I expected.

Mixing my own strange life with fantasy seems to be working.

Thanks for the comments as they keep me going on my writing and sometimes points me in the right direction.

Church Dictator

I was the last Chairman of the Board for the Kingsville Christian Church. The church was over a hundred years old.

I stood up after services on one of the last Sundays the church was open.

"As the leader of the church I must tell everyone it is time to close the church down. We have ran out of money to keep the church open."

No one said anything and the church was closed. I should have taken a vote but I didn't.

The church had been divided for over a year as our last minister was trying to steal the church and turn it into his own form of religion. I owed it to all the people that founded the church and keep it going for all those years to put an end to the insanity that had taken over our church.

I was a Church Dictator and I'm not proud of that fact. My father had heart trouble at the time and I know the conflict in the church was killing him. My father's life is more important than all the churches in the world. If what I did was a sin then I'll own that sin.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

The Animal Hospital Truck

"Mom! mom! stop the car that animal needs help!"

The animal was smashed all over the road but I could still see the cloud like soul of the animal hovering over the body.

"Now Bobby what did I say about that."

"The Animal Hospital Truck will pick up the animal and put him or her back together."

Mom was smart. I didn't know how to put the animal back together, much less how to put the soul back in the body.

Uncle Bully and the Fishes

I was happy. I liked seeing the fishes on the end of boat dock in the shallow waters. I opened my mind and saw the little blue soul orbs around each of the two inch minnows. I was lying on my belly with my orange !940s Mae West life jacket on. My uncle was watching me on the dock. I was only three years old.

My head was pushed underwater by the big meaty hand of my uncle. My mind couldn't focus and the soul orbs disappeared around the minnows as they darted off. I thought my uncle would let up soon but he didn't. As I passed out from lack of oxygen I thought; "My crazy uncle is killing me."

In the blackness I thought it was a good short life. They were the best parents I had in any lifetime.
I wonder what the next life will be like?

My vision came back from the darkness and my uncle was holding me over the lake water.
I was coughing up water trying to breath.

"Fun wasn't it?"

"Yes uncle."

I didn't want to look at him. His soul was ugly and bleeding hate. I didn't like the colors around him. He would kill someone but not me or my parents.

He put me on the dock and I wiped the water from my face.

"Come on Bobby it is time we got off the dock. We wouldn't want you to fall off and drown."

Mother-In-Law Bully

My sons called her grandma hell.
To my shame I had other meaner, nastier names for her.
No one has the right to judge another person's worth.
I shouldn't have judged my then Mother-In-Law.

"I want to speak to Jackie."

"Your daughter is gone shopping, I'll have her call you when she gets home."

"She owes me money. I want my money!"

"She's shopping and I'm home with the kids. I'll have her call you back."

"Listen you son of a #%@* I want my money."

"Quit calling here you're diving me crazy. I've lost count how many times you've called and I've told her to call back. Why did you lend her money? You know she's can't control her spending!"

"You son of a #%@* you are worthless!"

"Stop calling me you crazy witch!"

I hung up the phone. I didn't call her a witch but a name that rhymed with witch. I shouldn't have called her that name. My then mother-in-law was insane. I believe she was abused as a child. My then wife payed her the money back but that wasn't good enough. She wanted me to apologies and I wouldn't. I should have apologised but I didn't.

Life lesson; always apologies to people. It doesn't cost you anything. I was young and dumb.

She called my parents and threaten to burn down their house.

She payed an ex-con to kill me.

"Robert I've payed my boyfriend $50.00 to kill you."

"Come on Helen, I'm worth at least a $100.00."

That was me, young and dumb.

"*%$#* you Robert. Here talk to the man that is going to kill you."

"Hi this is Robert. I hear you're going to kill me."

"I'm coming to your duplex tonight to kill you."

"Does your probation officer know about this plan?"

"I hear you're a coward."

"What's your point?"

"You won't come out and meet me in your front yard when I come to get you, will you?"

"We cowards are funny that way. We never volunteer to be killed in our front yards."

"I'll break your door down then and rip out your throat."

"Now you're just silly. I have a policeman that live across the street from me, so come on down."

He never showed up and my then mother-in-law stopped threatening me.

Years later after my then wife and I were divorced as a favor to my ex-wife I drove my ex-mother-in-law 40 miles back to her home so Jackie could work some over time at her pet store job.

On the drive back to her home she showed me she had lost most of her mind. She thought I was still married to her daughter and spoke as if her dead son was still alive. I felt the kindest pity for her.

Helen, I'm sorry I called you that name. I didn't have the right to judge your worth.

Editing Reality

When I was a little boy of four or five I thought everyone saw reality as I did. I didn't know I was different. I didn't know other people didn't see colors around every living thing. I didn't know that other people couldn't hear the whispers of thoughts.

When I slept at night I would dream of future and past lives and sometimes see myself living in different bodies in this time line. I got the spirit world and this world confused. I always believed in reincarnation and didn't understand when an adult would say; "we only have one life to live."

When I got older I just thought I was born insane. I forced myself not to see the colors around every living thing. I closed my mind to the whispers of thoughts. My world was less magical but I knew I must live in the world that others believed in if I was going to survive. I could still see things other people couldn't see. I can see things a little faster than most people. I can hear things very far alway and I can see colors most people can't.

I don't expect anyone to believe any of this but I have kept these secrets for so long now that I just wanted to write this here. This is my truth. I've had visions all my life and many of them very dark. So I must edit reality for I must live in the world other people believe in to survive.

Gun Bully

I was all of 14 years visiting my cousins in Grandview Missouri when my older cousin Jimmy Jr. asked me to come upstairs to show me something in his parent's bedroom. I followed him upstairs and when I came to the doorway he pulled a gun out of a dresser, pointed it at me and pulled the trigger.

CLICK

The gun was empty but I jumped with fear. I had a heart murmur in my early teens that I inherited from my mother. The Doctors said I would outgrow it but at that moment it felt like my chest would exploded. My heart was wildly beating out of sync. It had never been that bad before or since. If I couldn't my heart under control I would pass out. I used a trick I taught myself when I was a little boy. I blanked out everything but me from reality (I can edit reality but that's another story). I slowed my heart down and put it in a good rhythm. I was standing in a pitch black void and before reality faded back in I heard his cruel laughter.

He stood by the dresser with the gun at his side bent over with laughter. He pointed at me with his left hand and laughed harder. I wanted to walk over to him and punch him in the nose but I didn't. I was pacifist at that point in my life and would take a beating before I would hit back.

I went down stairs and asked my parents if we could go. It was a couple of weeks later that I told them what happened. Jimmy Jr. would take great fun at pointing unloaded guns at me and my mother in the years that followed. Why the rest of my family did nothing about this is beyond me. I threated to hit him once when he loaded and unloaded a gun in front of my mother and pull the trigger while the barrel was pointed at her.

CLICK

That gun was empty too. He just laughed at me. He knew I wasn't a fighter.

One day while his parents were gone he was playing quick draw with a loaded gun and accidentally shot his mother's china cabinet. He's a Federal Marshal now.

Now I have to stop the story here and tell you I believe in minimalistic revenge. A Eyelash for a Eye. I'm about to take minimalistic revenge on you Jimmy Jr. with one question.

CLICK

Shot any china cabinets lately?

No Perfect

I do not believe in perfection. I am an imperfectionest. I have never failed at being imperfect and I never will. I've never known a perfectionist to succeed at anything and yet they claim they do.

Perfect is someone opinion and yours and mine concepts of perfection are a lie too.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

God Is Larger Than Your Religion

God is larger than your religion. God is larger than any politics of faith. This is still true if you are an atheist as your belief that a random universe can produce complex life forms given enough time has no number system to back up that belief. So any belief in a universal intelligent reality is a more complex imaginary construct.

I am not a creationist as that is a form of word worshiping and I am not a word worshiper.

I do not believe in intelligent design as that is limited linear thinking.

I do not believe in Darwin's theory of evolution. If you believe in this theory you are a racist.
This is an historical fact that you can prove to yourself by reading an unabridged Origin of the Species. Most copies of Origin of the Species are abridged without that fact printed anywhere on the book. This scientific censorship is wide spread.

I do believe in a form of imagination based evolution. I believe imagination is the force in the 'Forces of Nature'.

I do not believe in Science. Science is a finite political system that puts limits on imagination.
Science is slow to evolve as an imaginary construct and has a dogma almost as rigid as any religion. I love science as a way to evolve our intellects but hate the limits it puts on our thinking.

Imagine you have four lenses. One is painted a solid color and a person picks up the lens and can't see any light through it.

"There is no light."

The next person picks up a green lens.

"The light is green."

The next person picks up a blue and red lens putting one over each eye.

"There are two lights. One is red and one is blue."

The next person looks at the light without any lens.

"The light is what it is."

Friday, July 25, 2008

Turning 50

Glad to have that final nail in the coffin of my youth. Never liked being young and I've never cared for youth culture in any form. Never wanted to be cool. Cool is just another name for stupid evil.

I was going to post a video of my secret project but I'm still working on the main set so that will be done when its done.

My novel is moving along nicely as a equal mix of fantasy and true stories from my life.

The storybook is going through a process of editing and I'll post that progress soon.

Graphic Novel projects are moving painfully slow. One page takes weeks to finish. I'll need to live to be a hundred to finish these projects.

I'll just keep moving forward and hoping for the best.

Grandpa Tries too Hard

Yesterday I went to see my son, daughter-in-law and the little queen of dreams, my grand daughter. My son fixed me and his wife dinner for my birthday. Cordelia woke up after a nap and wasn't in the mood to play with grandpa.

The harder I tried the more she fused. Her sixth tooth trying to break through didn't help matters.
She finally let me pick her up to take her outside to her swing set. I pushed in her swing for a while till it was time for me to go. She waved at me and said the word "bye".

My heart melted as I drove off.

Sleeping Denver

I took Denver on a walk and he fell asleep in my arms. Close to the back porch of the house I could see a train coming down the track that ran close to my family home. I race walked up the stairs trying to get baby Denver back in the house before the train whistle blew. I almost made it in the house before the whistle blew.

Denver woke up holding his drowsy eyes open only for a moment. My Mother held the door opened as I walked in the house. Denver fell asleep again in my arms and I made my way back to the living room where Becky (Denver's mom) was trying to get some sleep on the living room recliner.

I leaned back on one of the living room couches letting Denver sleep on my chest. Becky took pity on me and we went to the back bedroom where Mark my son was sleeping. Becky laid down beside my sleeping son and I handed her sleeping son to her. As I closed the bedroom I looked at my beautiful extended family asleep after returning from their Colorado trip.

Five Tooth Smile

Last Monday I saw my Grand Daughter Cordelia (Wow I just turned 50 years old while I was writing this post!) her Dad, my little boy took her and I to the Mall to ride a carousel. Cordelia wasn't that enthused about the ride and had a better time shopping.

When we got back home I began to play with her on the floor and she began to laugh. For the next two and a half hours I saw her Five Tooth Smile.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Imagination Coin

You can't take it with you. Money that is. Money is useless in the afterlife.

What can you take with you? A perfect memory of a life imprinted on the universal mind?

I am an Imagination Worshiper. I worship God as pure imagination. The only coin you can spend in afterlife is a coin made out of imagination.

Two realities are all we have. A reality made of nothing and a reality made of imagination.

I remember looking down at my smashed face as my body was covered in blood on that broken bucket seat in my baby blue 1969 Mustang. I was outside my body for a moment. In that moment in 1975 I had no emotion and owned only my piece of nothing. I was my imagination in one way or another.

I hear people talk of peace but so many people just want a quiet war they can ignore.
I know people that recycle but never ask if the recycling in another country affects the health of children there.

If nothing but greed is your reality then nothing is what you will find.

Imagination is reality bond in nothing. Live a life full of imagination and your life will be rich beyond money.

Mom and Dad

We have a natural political system in the world called gender. The Mom Party and The Dad Party should rule the world as equal partners.

Daughters of the Future


Female family names should branch out into the future by their daughters.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Imagination Center Part Two


An Imagination Center could be anything but to bring focus lets imagine an alien landscape created by a community of artists and everyone else that wanted to be part of the process but didn't see themselves as artists. A strange musical sound-scape echoes through a growing ever changing world created by all that wanted to create. Through the internet the sound-scape could be created around the world.

Just as a Imagination Center would be created by recycled things, I have recycled this painting from the post Death of a City.

Rail Castle Post 7


In the back of the first chamber were hundreds of small booths that we were told to enter.

Inside the booth I entered, I found the death of my imagination.

I didn't care because I was happy.

I became a citizen of the Rail Castle in that booth.

Lies of a Rich Man (Part Five)

I put the CCD inside the display case using the security bolts to lock the space artifact in place under plastic.

The space telescope exhibit was a traveling museum piece created by one of the most famous institutions in the United States of America.

The space telescope exhibit was a traveling piece of junk.

In a meeting of all the exhibit techs the Three Headed Monster
( Managers; Mike, Mark and Dave) decided not to turn off the computers at night that ran the space telescope exhibit.
They told us that not enough exhibit techs were familiar with the exhibit Apple Computers (The computers weren't the reason the exhibit was a piece of junk).

"Mark that's not a good idea."

"Just why is that a bad idea?"

"None of the space telescope exhibit islands have any vents on the boxes that house the computers. If you run those computers 24/7 you'll have a fire in a few weeks from the computers overheating."

"Robert, I was an officer on a nuclear submarine. I think I know more than you do about what a computer system can take."

You would think he would know better than I, with his Navy education.

I was the last person to work on the space telescope before it opened to the public. People that build museums don't know anything about how a museum operates. The space telescope exhibit needed darkness but the end of the exhibit space was a big glass wall with a glass door in the center. This wall let light shine in from a stairwell. Dave the dominate head of the three headed monster asked me if I could think of a way to block out the light.

"Sure Dave but I'll need to destroy a little history."

"What do you mean?"

"Because the Collection Department hates this Science Museum all the concept art is stored in prop storage. All the concept art is on black foam core."

"Do whatever you need to do Robert just get that glass wall looking black."

End of Part Five

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Maple Seed Space Shuttle


Mag-rail launch off a mountain.

Jet engines in lower atmosphere.

Winged jet engines jettisoned.

Rocket into orbit.

Winged engines spiral back to Earth on parachutes like Maple seeds.

Rail Castle Post Six


When we got to the Rail Castle we off loaded at a huge chamber. I was disappointed there was no outside to the Rail Castle. It was a series of chambers carved out of solid rock.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Greener Green Houses


This concept isn't a Green Dream as I didn't have a dream about these green houses.

I came up with this concept after working in a complex of green houses for two years.
The waste of energy, water and man hours leaves a lot of room for improvement.

In the drawing you can see underground tubes that can be filled with warm air from the green houses in the daytime and cool air from the night to save energy.

The four foot tall green houses would have an underground trench running underneath to provide worker access. A double airlock system would save energy.

Solar Panels and Mushroom Farming would make the green houses even more efficient.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Flying Bi-Wing


This is a concept of a super safe green way to fly. The lower wing is the fuel tank and the upper wing is engines, passengers, crew and cargo. In case of engine failure the 'wing booms' lock upright and the upper wing detaches from the lower wing. A robot pilot glides the lower wing into a landing with a deployed para-wing.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Family Photo Part Four


From left to right my growing extended family.

Micheal, Amanda, Cordelia, Grandpa, Denver, Becky and Mark.

As you can see I'm having trouble holding my squirming Grandchildren still for the picture.

Grand Daughter Blues

Cordelia's mother Amanda has gone back to work and while my Grand Daughter is still a happy baby, she's dealing with this new fact of life. My Grand Daughter is now a speed crawler and can stand by herself. She has begun to take her first few steps and is becoming more independent every day. She is going though a shy period and this Grandpa must work a little harder to get the right to hold his beautiful blue eyed Grandchild.

I didn't know I could love anyone this much. My Grandchildren rule my heart now more than any love I could imagine. I know Cordelia better than my Grandson and I get lost looking into her blue gray eyes. I feel so lucky to have lived to see my beautiful blond haired Grandchildren.

I wanted to be the perfect Grandfather and I'm not but there is no perfect and I should be content to be the best Grandfather I can be. I'm a little sad about Cordelia. When her cousin Denver came to visit I didn't realize she was looking to me to find comfort in a new situation.

In the video Becky (Denver's Mother) shot I can see Cordelia leaning back on my fat belly and then laying her head on my chest. I tell her I love her and she starts playing with Denver.
My mother told me this happened several times that day. How could I miss these little magic moments between my Grand Daughter and myself?

No Talent Hack

This is a post is about my last two posts, 'The Return Call' and 'The Phone Call'.

I try not to be negative on this blog and try to be truthful as memory allows but sometimes I fail.
It hurt me to hear from a man that has taken advantage of me, my family and friends.
In his mind I am the one that has done him wrong, more the pity.

I try to be friends to everyone I meet but some people just can't be friends.
Their egos destroy the friendship before it even begins.
Ego is the destroyer of all things.

Do I have the right to call anyone a no talent hack?
Maybe not but I feel I would be lying to say anything else about the mis-director.
If you ignore talent and destroy talent to feed your own ego then you are a no talent hack.

I forgive you Phil and I pity you but I will never work for you again.
Your ego destroyed our friendship.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The Return Call

"Phil, I've decided I can no longer work on Begging for Billionaires. I have bad feeling about the production and I ask that you never call me again. Goodbye."

I never made this call so the last two posts are lies. The truth is working on the movie Begging for Billionaires was the worst experience of my life. I never want to talk to the mis-director again but if he calls me again I'll tell him the truth. I wanted to be supportive to a project I put so much work into but I feel Phil is a no talent hack and can only see the world through his own giant ego.

The Phone Call

"Hello."

"Robert, I need your help to finish the movie."

It was the mis-director. I worked on his movie for over three years. I was treated like a slave and lost money working on his production. He promised me credit that he took away from me.

"I don't think I can help you."

"Listen Robert, I just need you to get this one shot for me."

"What happened to your last cameraman?"

"He was from out of state and is working on something else now."

"I'll have to think about it."

"You promise you'll give me a call back."

"Sure."

I'll never work for him again but I will call him back.

Walking with Denver


My Grandson Denver seen here before he grew all his beautiful blond hair.

How did I turn into the goofy Grandfather?
I guess I was a goofy father so nothing has really changed.

"Dad what are you doing?"

Denver was sitting on his Great Grandmother's lap holding a piece of gray yarn in his hands.
Ten feet away I held the other end of the yarn to my mouth and was laying on the floor moving my legs up and down.

"I'm a fish and Denver's reeling me in."

"You're trying too hard Dad. Why don't you take Denver for a walk outside."

"I can do that?"

"Sure he'll love it. Just take him around the house a few times so he can get use to you and then you can take him on a long walk."

Mark and Becky, Denver's parents were exhausted from their first long vacation trip with Denver to Colorado and yes they went to his namesake. Mark went to his Grandfather's bedroom to sleep and Becky was trying to sleep in the living room recliner.

I keep walking Denver around the house and each trip got a little longer. Denver looked at me like he knew I was his Grandfather and not some man he had seen only four times in his life.
He never cried for his parents and finally I took him on a long walk around the little town of Kingsville. A block away I showed him a beautiful garden by the sidewalk. Denver smiled and licked the side of my face.

"Well Grandson that was different. I love you too."

I showed Denver trees that I had climbed and we walked the sidewalk where the bully Little D had tried to beat me up.

"Don't worry Denver I'll protect you from Little D."

I showed him the grade school that his Grandfather, Father and Uncle Mike had gone to when we were children. As we walked home he fell asleep in my arms and my heart filled with love as I looked at his yellow hair in the sunlight.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Lies of a Rich Man (Part Four)

A member of my family has asked me not to finish this story. Lies of a Rich Man is a true story and I feel I must finish this story. There is a level of criminal activity in the world that no one writes about that I call Legacy Crime. Either behind a shield of lies that we call Corporations or Marxist Dogma these highest of all criminals give marching orders to all the lower forms of evil in the world.

Moshen and I had our 15 minutes of fame for saving the girl on the Bike on a Wire exhibit.
The CEO of the museum said we followed the guidelines for a rescue but that was a lie because we made it up as we went along.

The two heroes of the hour went to Human Resources to address the issue of racism and safety in the work place. Moshen a man born in Egypt had been called a terrorist by our supervisor Richard. It was a joke but it was the worst joke I ever heard on a job. I had been fighting for over a year to get 17 dangerous exhibits removed before a child was killed. Tim the man that was the head of HR lied to both of us and nothing was done about our complaints.

I knew my time was short at the museum but I was glad to get the job of putting part of a space telescope exhibit together. This traveling exhibit had real space artifacts in it and for some strange reason the props department was in charge of security of space artifacts. I was the props department.

I unpacked the most priceless of the space artifacts a CCD (Charged Coupling Device) that took some of the most famous space pictures from orbit. I keep this obsolete electric sky eye on me so there would be no chance of theft. In the past at the museum two space artifacts had been stolen but after I threaten to call the FBI the theft returned the stolen artifacts but thats another story.

I keep the CCD in my hip pocket as we assembled the display case it would fit in. One of the three managers we in Tech Ops had nicked named the Three Headed Monster came to check on the progress we made.

"Robert where is the CCD?"

"Here in my hip pocket."

I pull the CCD out of my hip pocket and turn it in my hand to show the second head of the three headed monster named Mark that I had the priceless space artifact.

"Do you think that is the best place to keep that?"

"No, I think the Collection's security vault is the best place to keep this."

"Collection's won't take it because space artifacts aren't a hundred years old."

"If this is an artifact then its not my problem as I'm in charge of props."

Mark gave me a mean look.

"As your manager I'm telling you that you are in charge of space hardware and you will find a better place to put that CCD than your hip pocket."

"No."

I put the CCD back in my hip pocket.

"What do you mean no?"

"If the last two pieces of space hardware that were stolen hadn't been returned to prop storage I could have gone to federal prison. You aren't in charge of anything now as you're in limbo without a job but collecting pay after you slammed a door on Dean our Creative Director and our CEO's buddy. Who would have stole those Shuttle Tiles but space fanatics like you or I?
I much rather be fired from this job than to go to Federal Prison for a theft I didn't do."

Mark turned red and Walked away.

End of Part Four

This story will take the rest of July to finish. To the best of my memory this story is true.
I have omitted last names and full names of people, places and exhibits to protect myself from lawsuits. This is a complex story and I thought this would be the last chapter but I feel now the story must go on.

Monday, July 14, 2008

of hearts and halos

A tuning of my soul on a string across the largest and smallest of things.

To know of love lost and found in a broken heart yet unbound by truth.

Angels tilt those treads of gold in circles so bright that glory still holds.

Can you hear the children scream in minds numbed by endless greed?

I pray for you with all my might that you will join me in the light.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Denver, Cordelia and Grandpa

video

Green Pyramids


This is one my dream visions of a future world where Green Pyramids have replaced cities and small towns. Clog Trains run up the corners of the pyramids bringing goods and supplying cranes for construction.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Death of a City


It was the worst painting Mike had ever seen. It was perfect and he would make it famous.
Talent had long gone out of style and money served with lies was the food of the rich.

Sell junk and call it great. The age of lies had cast a shadow over the world and Mike's family was a master of lies. A rich banking family that had the power to bribe judges and bend the law to his will. What was the joke that artist fool told about him?

"Mike walked out of the shallow end of the gene pool of his family."

He was fired from that museum job because of that artist fool's meddling.

What did the fool say in his blog?

"The creative life of the city had been strangled by the spoiled rich and the city was dead."

Mike thought;

" its not what you know but what you know that you can get away with."

The fool probably thought art was about talent and hard work.

Stand Up Girl

I didn't see my Grand Daughter stand for the first time. I saw her stand for the second time in her life.

I grabbed her fathers arm.

"Look Mike she just stood by herself."

"Cordelia what are you doing?"

Cordelia realized she stood by herself without holding on to anything. Her legs wobbled and she sat down.

Imagination Center Part One

Creative Interactive is an art-form that combines the interactive museum exhibits with the creative process. The Actor-Artist makes the customers part of the creative process.

All current so called interactive entertainment is a rat in a maze mind set.
Only an ego lowering form of group creativity can break this maze.

The Artist-Actor and customers become a team to create the exhibit they both interact with. This Imagination Center can be perceived as an Imagination Museum or an Imagination Theater.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Dead Point

I blacked out at school. The kids were laughing at me as I picked up my books. No one believe the Dead Point was real.

"What do you mean part of your brain is dead?"

"I have a Dead Point in my mind and when I think in way I can't describe, I don't exist for a moment."

How could the doctors understand when I didn't understand.

For the first six months this walnut size black hole in my mind was a place to avoid and I only passed out once driving finding myself in a shallow ditch with my foot smashed against the brake pedal.

It disappeared two years after the car wreck and my mind became whole again.

I was always afraid I would get lost in there and not be able to find my way back.

Taking down my Art Show.

I began taking down my Art Show yesterday and decided not to sell anything or do anymore Art Shows in the near future. I still have a dream of my own Imagination Center and this art would play a big part in that. Just an ember of a dream. I must keep moving forward.

I'm going to make a run now to retrieve more of my art. I feel that it's time to push the creative envelope again.

Ten U.S.A. Lies

10. The Budget was balanced under the Clinton Administration. Never happened.

9. UFOs are aliens from outer space. Some UFOs are atomic powered military projects.

8. 9-11 was a government conspiracy. If you believe that you have my pity.

7. The moon landing was a hoax. Super dumb if you buy into this fantasy.

6. My God can beat up your God. Grow up!

5. No one has ever lost a job to illegal immigrants. Why don't people choke on this lie?

4. Greed is good. Never.

3. Fair and Balanced. False motto of Fox News.

2. Most Trusted Name in News. False motto of CNN.

1. Senate Ethics. Super Lie.

Pity the Poor Rich

I went to see the 12:00 A.M. showing of Hellboy 2 but this post isn't about that.

This post is about seeing my friend George at that Midnight showing of the movie.

George told me something very strange. He told me he went to a party of the wealthy of the city of my birth and they were talking about me in a negative way. George took up for me and has been uninvited to future parties.

So the good news is I'm not paranoid.

The bad news is that the Rich and Powerful of the city of my birth hate me.

Pity the Poor Rich who waste their time talking about a man that could have helped them in ways they can't even imagine and instead became caricatures in books that future generations will laugh at.

Maybe hate is too strong a word. If you are a pitiful cow town aristocrat and have the courage to leave a comment (anonymous of course as I can't expect you to have too much courage) please tell me what you really think. If you are cowardly aristocrat just flag this post for telling the truth.

I really don't hate any of you.

I just feel real pity for you.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Lies of a Rich Man (Part Three)

How many times did I try to flip the girl on the bike upright? I don't know. People were yelling and I saw six video cameras below me taping everything. I thought the closer the girl got the easier it would be but the worst it was. The aluminum pole was bending more each time I pushed down on the counterweight. Finally the bike on a wire was close enough I could grab the counterweight frame with my bare hands.

I dropped the pole and grabbed the frame of the counterweight with both hands pushing down with all the strength I had. If I didn't get the bike upright at that moment it would get hung up on two outrigger frames coming from the platform that would make it dangerous to get the girl off the bike. All my upper vertebrae popped and I felt the muscles in my back rip. I passed out.

I came to under the platform frame. Ronnie came over to me and asked if I was all right.

"My back is killing me. What happened?"

Ronnie was the nicest guy in my department and I don't think I could have stood up at that moment if he hadn't helped me. Moshen came over to me and said;

"We did good Robert, look the girl is safe."

I caught a glance of the girl being lead out of the museum in a wheelchair by the four security guards. The girl's legal guardian was yelling at the guards that she was going to sue.

For our trouble Moshen and I were given $5.00 each and a cupcake the next day. I had to laugh.

End of Part Three.

The Novel

For many years I wanted to write a novel but could not find the courage to do so.
Now I am putting words to paper in a river of thoughts that sit graphite upon pulp in fluid movement.

Virtual friends from around the world have guided me to this undertaking with kind words from a global web.

In ancient times to find your spirit guides you had to alter your sense of reality. Now we are all just a keypad and a video screen away from a human network of spirit guides.

I thank you all.

I sleep with my eyes open

I don't know why but I sleep with my eyes open. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I can't close my eyes because they are so dry. First thing in the morning I must put eye drops in so I can blink.

Many years ago I woke up when my then wife was showing a friend that I slept with my eyes open.

"See I told you my husband slept with his eyes open."

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Magic Avatar


A creature that sometimes appears in my dreams and has magical powers. One of my many Dream Avatars. This creature appeared as Unfinished Drawing #25 on this blog Sunday 9-30-2007.

Endangered Truth Endangered?

Lying is easy but telling the truth is hard. I want to write about hard truths in this blog but does anyone want to read that? Do I really care if a lot of people read this blog. I think I'm writing this blog for my Sons and Grand Children but in truth am I writing these words to feed my own ego?
Does any of this matter? I think I want to give up being a visual artist and put all my energy into writing.

I'll still do art as a hobby but I won't try to make a living at it anymore. I can't spell and I have a limited vocabulary but I feel I'm a born story teller. What happens when I stop thinking of my self as an artist and begin thinking of myself as a writer?

I can't lie to myself anymore, I only feel alive when I write. My art is forced now.
I'm only going to do concept art for my stories and let a better artist put visuals to my words.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

True Grits

I live near about ten or 15 miles away from the town of Lone Jack Missouri. If you tell someone in Kansas City Missouri that you live near Lone Jack Missouri you are branded a bigot in their mind.

Is this stereotype of small town Missouri justified? Until this 4th of July 2008 party I attended, I thought it was. Now I think small towns are less bigoted than big cities.

How did Lone Jack get this negative reputation? Lone Jack was a Confederate stronghold during the Civil War and a large plantation was near by. I've seen the ruins of limestone and concrete where local legend says many captured run away slaves were hung.

A few miles from this most northern of southern plantations is a place where the KKK meet every year in a group of streamlined trailers, shining sliver cabins of hate and fear in green spring fields.

In the 1960's there was a gas station in the town of Lone Jack but the owner of the gas station refused to give service to African Americans and the oil companies vowed never to put a gas station in the city limits of Lone Jack or so legend tells us.

A movie history of my part of America is as follows.

John Wayne says he lost his eye in the movie True Grit in a battle in the town of Lone Jack Missouri.

In the TV movie The Day After, Kansas City Missouri is hit by two atomic bombs.
Holden Missouri is mentioned but not seen in the movie. Holden is five miles east of my hometown of Kingsville.

In the movie Ride With The Devil, there was a doctor in Kingsville Missouri.

So my part of the United States of America in popular culture is a single line in a movie about the Civil War or a future Nuclear War. In local legend my area of the country is painted as a bigots paradise because of the areas sins of the past. Is this fair and why did I buy into this stereotype?

I know an artist that lives in Lone Jack and buy ceramics from him when I make sales of my own. I can't imagine this man or his wife being anything but good people.

In my own town of Kingsville I remember when my father rented a house to a woman with a mixed heritage child. I was proud of my father when he stood up to the bigots of the town that didn't want a girl with an African-American father going to school with their children.
He told them he would rent to anybody he thought was a good person and it was none of their business.

The most hateful bigot I knew lived in the town of Kingsville many years before he moved to a farm a few miles away. His two sons married African American sisters and his beautiful mixed heritage Grandchildren melted his bigoted heart.

When I was a child the town of Holden had a small African American population that has now completely integrated into the European American population. You can't find that in any large city. In one generation the impossible happened. This is what makes my country great.

When I went to that huge 4th of July celebration on the house next to the party was a Confederate Flag. At the party I saw people that were of mixed heritage from all over the world and that Confederate Flag had no meaning.

About ten miles east of Kingsville I sometimes eat breakfast at a little restaurant in the town of Pleasant Hill and I put my foot in my mouth saying how much I hate grits and only people in the boot hill of Missouri eat grits. I offended a woman at the next table that grew up in the boot hill eating grits. I told her I was sorry and promised her I would try grits again.

Progress Report






Still working on the Children's book and nothing else when it comes to art. Tried to redesign the Robot but can't come up with anything I like as well as the first design in the original drawings.

I Miss My Grandson

I look into the pools of intelligent that are his brown eyes, I hear him laugh and my few memories begin to fade. We watched the animals at the Kansas City Zoo together and he fell asleep in my arms as we crossed a bridge together. For so many years I was the last Vollrath in this branch of family tree and now new leaves grow from the branches that are my sons. I've seen him three times in his short life, I must see him again in the near future.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Rahha Rah Wrahhh

Cordelia Olivia Vollrath, my sweet lovely Grand Daughter. I saw her three times this week on the 2nd, 3rd and 4th of July and I wish I had been a perfect Grand Father but I wasn't.

On the second of July I was close to being a perfect Grand Father and Cordelia and I had a very good time. I went with my son, daughter-in-law and Cordelia to my favorite Mexican Restaurant. I didn't have enough money from my last movie job to see my Grandson in Minnesota so I decided to take my youngest son and his family out to eat. Cordelia loves to eat rice and keep her father busy keeping her face clean.

On the third of July I had tried to rock Cordelia to sleep and failed letting her slip off my lap and fall to the floor. Her mother picked her up and she was fine. I vowed never to let that happen again.

On the fourth of July my son Micheal brought Cordelia down to visit my parents and I without my Grand Daughter's mother Amanda. I got to see Cordelia's first reaction to seeing and hearing fireworks her father shot off. She's an all American girl and wasn't phased by the flash or the noise. I went inside with Cordelia and she wanted my mother her great grandmother to hold her. My Mother is missing three disks in her spine and can't hold Cordelia anymore.

As I was going to a big 4th of July party five miles west of Kingsville in Strasburg Missouri and needed my leather shoes instead of my canvas shoes. Not wanting my Mother to be temped to pick Cordelia up I took her with me to retrieve my shoes. I sat my Grand Daughter in the middle of my bed thinking I could grab my shoes from under the computer table before she could fall off the bed. What a dumb Grand Father I turned out to be. My beautiful little Grand Daughter fell to the floor hitting her head. I picked up my crying Cordelia and told her how sorry I was.

I took the crying child outside and gave her to her father telling him what happened. As soon has I handed Cordelia to her father she pointed at me with her right arm with the index finger extended and said;

"Rahha Rah Wrahhh".

Which translated from Cordelia-speak means 'Grandpa let me get hurt'.

The rest of the day she said this to many people and even with the gifts of a rocking rocket toy and a packet of glow sticks (Cordelia was proud of having what she thought was her own fireworks) I was not forgiven and Cordelia's last words to me with her little index finger pointing at me were;

"Rahha Rah Wrahhh".

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Lies of a Rich Man (Part Two)

I ran though the museum as fast as I could and was the first Exhibit Tech to reach the loading platform for the Bike on a Wire exhibit. The wire was twenty feet off the ground and the bike that ran across the wire had a counter weight of interlocking bricks held in an open metal frame beneath the bike. A 265 pound girl of fourteen was hanging upside down on the bike halfway out over the safety net five feet below her inverted head. Four security guards were trying to pull her back with a tow rope attached to the bike to reel kids in that didn't want the ride to end.

I took my work shoes off to walk out into the net as I looked up I saw the girl was undoing her safety harness that keep her from falling into the net. Most people don't know that you can be killed falling into a safety net. You can break your neck if you land wrong. The security guards began to yell at the girl to stop from releasing the safety latch but she ignored all four of the guards.

"Stop you could break your neck in the net!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs. She made eye contact with me and stopped unlatching the safety harness. Then I didn't know what to do and just stood at the edge of the platform trying to figure out what to do once I got out on the net. The Bike on a Wire had a flaw in its design as it was in a inverted position the heavy metal rim wheels weren't making contact with the cable and no matter how hard the guards pulled the tow rope the bike wouldn't move.

Moshen an Event Tech from the same department as me walked out on to the net. I felt like a fool as the girl needed someone to do something and I had hesitated and Moshen had acted.
Then I looked down below the net and saw over a hundred people had gathered below the net to watch the rescue, many with video cameras.

I had an idea. I keep a 15 foot long aluminum pole hidden by a fence to get shoes out of net when children lost their shoes riding the Bike on a Wire exhibit. The fence enclosed the Dinosaur dig site and I directed another Exhibit Tech to hand me the pole up to me on the platform.
As the bike was inverted the counter weight of interlocking bricks was on top. If I could jam the end of the pole into a gap in the bricks maybe I could flip the bike upright. I had been focused on the getting the aluminum pole to the platform and didn't see Moshen place the girl's hand on the cable holding the west side of the net up. This put the bike at 90 degree angle, still sideways but closer to being upright.

I put the aluminum pole in the gap between the bricks in the counter weight and pushed down with all my strength. The pole began to bend and the muscles in my back began to tear.
The bike was at 45 degree angle in the upright position and the four security guards pulled the bike two feet forward. I couldn't hold the bike in that position very long and I let bike back down as gently has I could. Moshen grabbed the girl's hand and set it again on the cable holding the net up. The girl and the bike were at a right angle again.

As I straighten the metal pole to try again many of my fellow employees were making fun of me and the girl on the bike. I gave them a dirty look and tried again.

End of part two.

Nine Toes

"So you lost your little toe on your right foot in a lawnmower accident but that doesn't bother you and you gave your little toe away to medical science. Your mother had it much worst as she had her feet bound but she still won a Miss Hong Kong and married your father an American solider."

"Well when you put it that way it all sounds so silly."

Into Hell

I was dead falling back to life. I had gone into the Light and touched the mind of God.
I rejected the Light and fell back into the darkness. I fell through the black empty void of Hell.
The pain twisted my soul into echoes of my self and demons of my own design came to feast on my fat ego. Designer Demons I had created out of my own imagination tore alway the virtue of my youth.

Blackness, silents, I hungered for the Light.

The sound of a siren brought me out of the darkness and I opened my eyes to the Para Medic leaning over me.

"Don't worry you're not going to die."

I closed my eyes and embraced the darkness of my own mind.

Friday, July 4, 2008

Lies of a Rich Man (Part One)

The Rich Man was my boss's boss. I worked for the worst Science Museum in the world. That wasn't just my opinion but the opinion of a group of international exhibit builders that held a convention in Las Vegas in 2002 or 2001. I talked to these exhibit builders on a regular basis and they couldn't believe how poor the science content was in the museum.

I was an exhibit tech and my boss was named Dave. Dave was the most vulgar man I have ever known in my life. I heard him brag about abusing women when he was a young man. He even claimed to have dumped a nude girl on a bridge over the Missouri River when he and his friends were done with her.

My real trouble with Dave began when the Fire Marshall made a sexual remark towards me.
This wasn't the first time someone of the same sex made a pass at me but this was only the second time someone demanded sex from me to keep my job. The first time I quit a dream job before it began. This time I told the Fire Marshall what he could do to himself in very mean terms.

"I'm the Fire Marshall, I can shut this museum down!"

"I don't care."

"I'm going to have the apartment you live in condemned."

"I don't live in this city, just how are you going to do that?"

"Some of your exhibit tech friends do. Where do they live?"

"None of your business."

For the rest of the work day the Fire Marshall of a major city tried to find out where my friends lived so he could condemned their apartment because I had stood up to him when he made unwanted sexual advances towards me. Gay or straight there are jerks everywhere.
At the end of the day I went over to the Fire Marshall and spoke.

"Just because I'm the only Exhibit Tech that was willing to work in the Collection Department with someone with full blown Aides doesn't mean I'm Gay. It just means I'm not a bigot or that I'm scared of Aides. I'm going to lose this job soon enough without your help but if you don't leave me and my friends alone in the here and now I'll make sure you loose your job Mr. Fire Marshall."

I never heard anymore about the Fire Marshall's little problem with me. I had seen Dave bribe the Fire Marshall with Major League Baseball tickets for the many fire violations in the museum.

There were rumors that Dave had bribed the Fire Marshall with male prostitutes but I honestly don't know if there is any truth to that. I do know that the Fire Marshall never made any inspections on days that I worked from then till the end of my employment at the museum.

I wanted to quit the hell job but I seemed to be the only person that cared about the safety of the children that came to the museum. I would say something about how unsafe the museum was for the children and the answer would always be the same;

"Don't worry about it Robert, we have three million dollars of insurance."

I felt I was working at the museum for a reason and on April 13, 2002 that reason came.

"All Exhibit Techs report to the Bike on a Wire we have a girl upside down and can't get her off the bike!"

End of Part One.

Imaginary Constructions

Is there truth in imagination? Why is the word imagination almost a dirty word to some people?
So much of the world is an imaginary construction with no reality behind the divisions we make for ourselves.

I believe the creative act is a living prayer made to the universal mind we call God.

Not to use our imaginations in a positive way is a sin.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

I Don't Know

I don't know what the truth is but I have a desire to tell it.

I don't feel like posting photos anymore. I just want to write posts.

I don't feel like posting videos anymore. I know I will in the future but not right now.

I don't even want to post my art. I will again but not now.

I don't even know what I want to write about anymore.

I'm not depressed anymore but I feel empty like I'm going to be filled up with words that don't belong to me but I haven't stolen from anyone.

Strange vast rivers of nothing churn in the blackness. If you know a truth but can't prove it should you tell it?

Rainbow Vortex

I found the end of a rainbow. I have seen heaven and swam in God's rivers of imagination. I have been hit by lightening through the very keypad I type this post on. I have seen a star fall from the sky and hit the Earth. I have fallen in love with wonderful women four times in my life. I have seen my sons born. I have lived to know my grandchildren. I have no price. You can not buy pieces of my soul for all the riches in this world and I fell pity for the poor fools that sell pieces of their souls.

July 25th, 2008 I will be 50 years old. I am glad to put that final nail in the coffin of my youth.
Youth culture is a fool's glory and I never wanted any part of it. Youth culture is junk food for the soul. Being cool is fool's gold and the sooner 'cool' dies the better off the world will be. I look forward to the changes to come in the future and to make my mark on it in some small way if God would be so kind to let me.

I thank God he has given me such wonderful parents. My sins swirl around me in a vortex and the color of my good deeds are clouded by those evil acts. With parents as good as mine there should have been no bad deeds. I move forward now into the twilight of my life. I must do as many good deeds as time allows. Perhaps I will know paradise a second time.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Wielder of the Memory Sword

I was all of 22 years old I found a Cutlass sword with a sheath for only $5.00.

When I got home I began to play with the sword like the fool that I was. I wildly swung the sword about until I cut the tip of right ear lobe. As I looked in the bathroom mirror at my bleeding ear, I remembered I was too immature to own a sword.

I put the sword in the sheath and walked across the hallway to my neighbor apartment.
He was home and I sold the sword for $5.00 to him.

I could have made money off the sword but I didn't think I should make a profit off my own stupidity.

I was all of 22 years old and for all of 22 minutes I owned the Memory Sword.

Keeper of the Cosmic Crayon

I'm dead. I'm 17 years old and I'm dead. I've went into the Light. I've gone down the river of death in the valleys of my own mind and have come to the Light but my own ego keeps me from being part of the Light. Who am I?

"You are the Keeper of the Cosmic Crayon."

Said a voice in me and outside of me. Fragments of infinite imagination unbound before me in crystal shards full of living words.

"I'm not a word worshiper." I said as my mind spun out from the mortal tread of my short life.

Each word was a living thing bound in crystal that changed colors and turned inside out before it turned inside in. Over and over again like living music the crystals were played by the living words.

A billion rainbows sang to me a bittersweet song. I fell out of heaven and was flung back to the flesh I was born into on this world. I haunt that flesh to this day, wishing my own selfish ego had let me be part of the Light.

Ego is the destroyer of all things.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Knights of the Red Boot

I was five years old. It was raining and I was wearing my yellow rain coat with my red plastic boots. I was on my Grandma English's farm, deep in the woods with my Mother, Father and Grandma English. We were hunting Morel mushrooms. I can't remember if we found any, all I can remember is that I was cold, tired and wet.
"Mommy will you carry me?"
"Sure Bobby, I'll give you a piggy back ride to the car."
My Mother picked me up and slung me on her back. My Mother was young and beautiful but she didn't know how beautiful she was so I had to tell her everyday. As my family walked out of the woods I thought I must tell my Mother how beautiful she is. I fell asleep on my Mother back in the warm spring rain. I awoke as my Mother tried to set me in the car.
"Mommy I lost one of my boots."
"Don't worry sweetheart we'll find it next time we mushroom hunt."
For years my Mother and I looked for the Red Boot. I grew into a man and the Red Boot was forgotten.I married and had two sons. When my sons were old enough I took them mushroom hunting in the woods.Years pasted and one day my Mother began to talk about the Red Boot to her Grandsons.
"I know where the Red Boot is Grandma." said Mark her oldest Grandson.
"Me too." said Micheal her youngest Grandson.
"I know it's silly but it would mean a lot to me if you could find the Red Boot." said my Mother.
"Tomorrow sons we go on a quest for the Red Boot."
The next day we drove out to the edge of the woods on the family farm.We left our station wagon by the country road and walked across the back field. I stopped just before we entered the woods.
"We are on a sacred quest sons for the Queen of the Vollrath family. As Prince of my lost Childhood I dub the three of us Knights of the Red Boot. Sit thy hand upon your father's youngest and oldest sons. Swear to be true to the quest and not to return from these haunted woods until thy quest be done."
"I swear Father." said Mark.
"Me too." said Micheal.
"Then truly we be Knights and the quest begins."
The three of us walked into the woods. Mark was 12, Micheal was 9 and I was an ageless child of wonder.Deep in the woods we came upon the rotting body of a great beast. The air was full of the smell of death and bright red beetles were eating the rotting flesh.
"We have come upon body of a great dragon slain by the Lord of the Land. Stay clear of this place of death Knights for this dragon wasn't evil but was consumed by evil."
I tried to hide my anger from my sons. This was the carcass of the dead horse that I had helped my Uncle Jim chain to a tractor to be drug out to this spot, brought back a flood of memories. Was this the horse that my cousin Cathy had taught me to ride on? Why did my Aunt and Uncle let those two horses flounder? I remember walking out of the woods with my mother after mushroom hunting and seeing the two horses with their hoofs growing up and curving back almost touching the shank of their legs. I screamed in rage! I called my Uncle that night and begged him to do something about it. The hoofs were too far gone and the horses suffered till their dying day.
I then saw the old rotting oak tree. The termites had been working on it for years. For years I had been trying to push it over with brute strength. The tree's trunk was four feet in diameter but it fell this time as I crashed into it. I almost fell with the tree into the creek. I heard my sons laughing.
"I have not found the Red Boot within the core of this rotting tree brave knights."
I was tired and my shoulder hurt from pushing the tree over so my sons brave knights that they were took the lead in the quest. Then I heard my oldest son yelling.
"We found it dad! We found the Red Boot!"
"I helped dig it out of the creek bed dad!" said my youngest son.
We took the red boot and gave it to the Queen. The Queen is older now but she is still beautiful and I must with my sons remember to tell her that because she doesn't know how beautiful she is to her family.
Of all the things I remember about the quest for the Red Boot, the strangest is the fact that those red beetles are an endangered species now and I only saw them that one time on the quest.