Simple America

After all of the weeks of carrousing being confined to base was hell. But it did give me time to catch up on my reading. There was not much else to do. I could have gone to the movies, but I did not really like going to main post. At night I would watch my comrades leave. All except Country Boy. He just hung around the barracks writing letters to his wife and reading. We had not chatted much since we had flown into Korea. But we swapped books and that gave me less reasons to go to main post.

I had ordered and prepaid for something in the ville. Today, I do not remember what exactly I needed. But I approached Sergeant DH about picking it up.

“Yo Sarge.”

Sergeant DH looked like a lot of Viet Nam veterans. In his thrities, but he had the white hair of a sixty year old man. Despite this his moustache looked black. He probably dyed it, but I don’t know. He looked like a frog when he sneered at me.

“What,” he replied in manner that made me feel like a private in basic training?

I showed him my claim ticket. “I need to pick this up in the ville. I don’t want to lose it.”

“I told you Blakemore. You go to the ville for any reason and I am going to burn you.”

I walked away rolling my eyes. I knew he meant it. That would probably get me shipped back to Fort Huachuca where the CO would hit me with an Article 15. I could lose rank, pay and work extra duty for a few weeks.

So I asked Jam to help me out. I walked down to the gate with him. Jam showed the MP his orders and walked off after the private gave him the nod of approval. He looked at me waiting for me to show my pass or orders.

“I cannot leave. Can I just wait for him to come back? He won’t be gone long.”

Kid nodded his head. Not the talkative sort. There was a lot of pedestrian traffic. People coming and going. A couple of Korean hotties came up and used a phone that allowed them to call the barracks.

The time passed and much to my surprise Miss Lee came walking up to the gate. I wondered why she was there and then I saw her use the phone. She had not seen me yet. I could only imagine that she called her old yobo. I half hoped he was not dripping yet. But I knew the chances were pretty good that he would be feeling the symptons soon. Of course if he passed it on to Lee and subsequently me then he should have been suffering already. I hope it burnt like hell under those circumstances.

When Lee hung up the phone I waved and called her over. She looked surprised to see me. Cetainly she was confused that I had not visited her in a few days. Maybe she felt I rejected her. I do not really know.

She came over and I whispered into her ear, “Your old yobo gave us VD.”

It felt good telling her that news, even though I honestly could not be sure if her old yobo was the source or Suki. She turned pale and her body stiffened.

“You have VD?”

“Yep. Thank your ex when you see him, will ya?”

She turned around and walked back into the ville. VD was bad for girls in her business. It meant quarantine in the prison or monkey house as GIs called it. At least that is the rumor that GIs spread about girls that get VD. But it had to really hurt them with their earning ability. They had bills to pay. Getting treated meant more money they owed mama-san. I felt a little sad for her. But she had screwed around and lied to me so I could not give her all the pity she deserved.

Jam returned shortly afterwards and handed me my parcel. I presented it to the MP to inspect and returned to the barracks. Another exciting evening of reading. At least I was getting plenty of sleep.

When I am ill I try and drink a lot of water. Water being a cleanser I hope to flush whatever poison my body contains out more quickly in this manner. I promoted my water cleansing belief during a break and some of the com center people listened as well as my team mates.

There was a pretty girl that worked in the com center. But the pretty did not pierce her flesh. This girl had a foul mouth and she insulted everyone. Rumor had it that she sold her ass to Korean men in the ville. But knowing GIs it could have been sour grapes from striking out with her. She listened as I gave my theory. It felt kind of good to have a discussion for a few minutes where people weren’t chiding me about the clap.

When I finished she spoke, “I don’t drink water. Never have. Never will.”

Her response puzzled me and I asked, “Why is that?”

She looked at me and sneered. “Fish fuck in it.”

Everybody busted up laughing. My whole theory trivialized. But I had to laugh too. And then I resumed working.

At day’s end Sergeant Hillbilly announced he wanted to throw a party for the team. We’d been busting our ass working almost every weekend. He would set it up in a hotel inside the ville. Only problem was I could not leave base as my profile would still be in affect. Sergeant DH was more than happy to remind me too.

Then Sergeant Hillbilly announced that the team would be split up. Some people would be staying in Camp Humphreys. But they needed three teams to go work on forward sites located along the DMZ or demiliaterized zone. I wanted to stay in Camp Humphreys so bad, but because I got the clap sarge informed me I would be going north.

Sarge told me, “Blakemore, I’m sticking your ass on a mountain where I can keep you out of trouble. You’ll thank me later.”

All I could think was son of a bitch. I wanted to visit Song Tan one more time. I needed to let Suki know she might have the clap. Looking back in retrospect the Army really did a piss poor job of trying to stop VD. Seems like a guy knows where he dipped his wick. If the army took the effort to inform the girls sooner it would have saved money and time on treating soldiers. Damn army.

The days passed and the party was imminent. Sergeant DH remained a dick head and swore that I better not be at the party. Sergeant Hillbilly overheard this exchange and stepped in.

“You have my permission to attend the party, Blakemore. But you have to go back to the base once it is over.”

Sergeant DH turned red and I think you could have boiled water on his head. But he could not say a thing. The only thing that would have made the moment more golden is if I could have flipped him off.

Later I saw Red who remained Sergeant DH’s mistress. She and I were still friends despite her poor choice in men.

I asked, “You ready for the party tomorrow?”

“We’re not going.”

“No. We’ll be in Seoul. DH wants to go up to Seoul and bitch about Hillbilly.”

The cogs started turning in my head, “You’ll be in Seoul all weekend?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Have fun.”

I walked off. The only person that gave a shit whether I left post or not would be totally out of the way. I could go tell JB and Choon that I was leaving. They could inform Suki if I did not find her.

The party took place at a hotel in the shadow of Camp Humphrey’s Gate. Not sure hotel is adequate to describe it really. It looked more like an anorexic motel. It had a small restaurant with wooden booths and stiff vinyl seat covers. The room kept the lighting level dim and the colors seemed to be prevalently brown. They served Korean fare, which I enjoyed though I could remember a few of my comrades wishing for steak or hamburger. There was plenty of beer, though I had to drink coke because my medical profile did not permit alcohol.

Sergeant Hillbilly brought his girlfriend. She had a pretty face and long long long black hair. Did I mention it was very long? Still wondered if she was worth losing kids over. But then again he could of have been dangling the promise of Golden Mountain to her with no intent to deliver. A lot of the books I read seemed to promote the idea that westerners have two wives. One in the west and another in the east. Though the western family seemed to get the benefits and inheritance.

The party broke up early, which I did not mind. I returned to the barracks and called it an early night. In the morning I would go to Song Tan, but I wanted to establish my alibi. One person telling Sergeant DH that I left the base would have screwed me.

In the morning I went to the mess hall for breakfast . When you go to the mess hall, you show your meal card. If you do not have a meal card you show your ID and sign a sheet that you ate. My signature would help establish my presence. After breakfast I looked around and saw nobody I knew in the area.

I passed through the gate as quickly as the MP allowed and caught a cab. The trip to Song Tan seemed to take forever. When I arrived Mr. Lee appeared as he always seemed to do. I registered for a room and asked about JB. Mr. Lee confirmed that JB had not checked out.

In short time I was reunited with JB and Choon. I told them I had VD and that Suki needed to go to the monkey house. Damn I was mean. To this day I do not which girl infected me, though I was more than happy to lash out at them as if they were both guilty. And that too was plausible.

Choon’s English must have improved too or my ability to understand Koreans had imcreased. Turns out that Suki actually danced at one of the clubs outside of Camp Humphreys. All of that time she had been so close, yet I never knew. Not that it would have changed a thing between us.

I figured I would visit Little Miss Lee. Seemed like I needed a haircut. She remained a cute little nervous chipmonk. Lee had me looking good in no time. But she had no interest to go out.

The day passed quickly and then the night arrived. I remember hanging out in the hotel restaurant. I kept bugging Little Miss Lee. Around 11:30 she surprised me when she walked over with two Korean dancers. One of the dancers had a GI in tow. Lee introduced me to the girl and I cannot remember her name. She was very pretty. She wore her hair down to shoulder blades and it curled beautifully. Her blouse was bright with a floral pattern and it tucked into a black mini-skirt. She woreblack boots that rode her calves and stopped just short of her knees. I always thought boots looked good on the right set of legs and she had them. Perfect almost too perfect. After introducing her Little Lee left. I never saw her again.

What a considerate girl. Shit. I guess there was no debating how she felt about me. Lee must have thought I was a dick on legs that wanted to stroke every girl I met. Such thoughtfulnees too.

The dancer carried a hat case. She sat it next to me.

“Please watch my things,” she ordered. “It’s my life.”

I acknolwedged her with a nod. Both girls left for the banjo. The GI sat down at the table opposite me.

“Where you work,” I asked?

“Osan.” He looked me over a bit. Trying to measure me up the way servicemen do. I did the same to him. Was not a bad looking guy. Should not have problem with the ladies. He was as tall as I, though not as heavy.

“You air force,” I asked?

“Yep. And you.”

“I’m army.”

End of conversation. We did not speak another word. I contemplated the hat box. It was rather plain. I imagined it held spiked heels and bikinis. Her life. The belongings she valued most in life and she left them with me. Some GI met in a restaurant whom she planned to screw for twenty bucks. Maybe she would use that money to get some more doo dads for the box to hold. Or maybe she would pay off the debt the box incurred. I imagine dancers had a mama san. Otherwise, why become attached to  some stranger in the Song Tan Hotel with nothing more than an introduction. I wondered if she knew Choon and Suki.

The girls returned. The wingnut was glad to be saved by the girls I think. He stood up and latched on to his. I stood up, because thats what a Southern man does when a woman is standing in his presence.

I could have been smitten by her lovely face quite easily. Always been a fool for pretty face. She made the mistake of opening her mouth. The dancer spoke and I could sense a harshness in her. The girl was definitely an alpha female.

“Thanks for watching my stuff,” she said. “Look we want to go to this new dance club during curfew. But we need to go now to beat curfew. So come on.”

She picked up her hat box and held it up for me to carry. I looked at her and smiled. In good conscious I could not go with this girl. No matter how much I disliked her attitude, there is no way I wanted to risk giving her the clap. And why waste my money on someone I do not like?

“I’m not going.”

Her eyes widened and she looked at me.

“You don’t want to go with me,” she asked. The words were touched with a trace of How dare you…

“Nope sweetheart. I’m going to bed.”

“You don’t like me?”

I just laughed and walked to the elevator. As I waited I looked back and she stared at me. Her eyes shooting nails into me. I probably should have been disappointed that I did not stay with her. But then telling a pretty girl I was not interested in her was a new experience. And with her it felt good. It felt damn good. Probably better than any sex I could have had with her.

Life was extremely nerve wracking without the missus for those three weeks. My hat is off to all you single parents. So many chores to do. Never ending. Seems like my daughter always had some activity. Son would have done more if he were not grounded for poor academics. He better get organized or he won’t make it into a decent High School.

 My daughter had her piano recital. My son had to look good too, as he was recruited to be the stage hand. Both kids did a great job. This recital proved to be my daughter’s finest effort ever. I was a little worried when she practiced at home before the performance. She hit quite a few sour notes. Evidently she got the booboos out of her system. I did not hear a single mistake and trust me folks. I would have picked up any sour notes. I am just wired that way.

After the performance the studio owner had set up a dinner at Fung’s Kitchen (picture below). The food was great and it always is there. Though now adays we seem to go there more for dim sum than dinner. I had my camera and planned on taking pictures of the food to share, but the missus called as the dishes arrived. She had just flown into LA from Hong Kong. She was three hours behind her schedule. My sister-in-law was supposed to pick her up, but the delay allowed me to pick her up.

It was so good to have her home. With her back I could clear some of the other things I had ignored. The first thing I realized was I filed too late for my CPA firm to be an S Corporation. Profits and losses from S corps go on your individual taxes similar to a partnership. Since I was not an S corp that meant I was a C Corp. The profits and losses do not affect individual taxes. Thus I needed to amend my persoanl taxes. Pain in the ass took me all week. Still need to redo the corporate tax. Sigh.

For 12 to Midnight I have been trying to finish Fire in the Hole. My major stumbling block is working on creature stats. Don’t want to make any errors in this area and I have made some tough critters to challenge players. Because of this I am only comfortable working on this project when I am at home with my books available. Also had a number of tax issues to take care of for 12 to Midnight. All of which takes away from my develepment time. I also need to write an introduction and author’s note. Those should be easy to knock out.

I need to get this done, so I can edit Wild Things. Summer is our big sales push. We need finished product for our loyal customers. Hate to be holding everything up. Also have to close April books and calculate what we owe our imprints as they are due to be paid soon.

Hoped to get some things done this weekend, but there were a lot of commitments. Saturday my daughter went to a friends birthday party. It was very convenient to Sams and Walmart so the missus and I planned on shopping. She needed muscles to lug all the heavy stuff. Her back has been giving her some troubles lately. My daughter said the party started at twelve and we arrived early. She called her friend and learned the party started at 12:30 so we drove over to Sams.

We were power shopping, trying to get everything quick quick. We went to the drug store section and I recalled a particular product I needed. My daughter followed me to see what I picked up. When I picked this product up she sped away from me like a pariah. Even made me chase her halfway across the store waving this around yelling stop. I need to put it in. Whats wrong with these?

(Actually I was quiet. I felt a little embarassed chasing after the girl and more importantly the cart she pushed. The missus thought it funny, laughing at the two of us)

Shopping took a little longer than the girl wanted. My wife had promised her that if things took longer she would let me take the girl to her party and I could come back for her and the goods. Got in the checkout line and the missus gave me her Sams card and Discover card and then disappeared. The missus is real bad about this kind of thing and it really pissed the girl off. I almost had to ground my daughter. We got her to the party 15 minutes late. My wife said the girl was fashionably late, but the young un did not want to hear that.

We went home and unloaded. We bought some sushi and it tasted yummy. Here’s my plate:

I also bought the missus a bottle of wine. It is a Mosseland Avantgarde Pinot Noir. I am not familiar with that vintner, but I really liked the way the bottle looks.

Full belly and I was back to the tax work. Did not finish it all and then I had to go to work. Saturday was graduation at the college. I made the hour drive to work and realized I left my keys at home when I arrived. Fortunately, my boss has a key to my office. I needed to get in so I could get my cap and gown on. Then I realized I forgot my camera too. Wanted to get a picture looking academic. Oh well. We qued up and followed the students into the gym for the ceremony. It was shorter than the last two years. The speaker was quite good too. A lady from South Carolina who went from being a prenant High School drop out to earning a Doctorate degree. She noted the irony of how her daughter was awarded an literacy award for teaching in South Carolina last year, while her grandfather was functionally illiterate. Pretty sad circumstances, but she preached hoped and called ignorance the thief of that hope. Wish I could get the manuscript of her speech. Very uplifting, honest and real.

 Then we were done and I made the drive back home. The missus had picked the girl and everyone was doing there own thing. So I did my own thing and got back on taxes. Finally got all the the franchise taxes done and decided to write about my Mom. It’s the previous post if you have not read it. I finally posted it at 2:30 in the morning. Stayed up so the people on the sunny side of the world could read it while it was still Mothers Day. Then I noticed my daughter had not gone to sleep and she is up watching anime. I told her to get to sleep, though I suspect she stayed up longer.

I awoke at 10:30 surprised that my slumber had not been disturbed earlier. On Mothers Day the kids usually get up and cook a nice breakfast. Kind of disappointed. And cannot blame my son so much, as he still requires bossy big sister to tell him what to do. And he wanted to make breakfast too. I made the missus some coffee and we ate those egg roll cookies for breakfast. Then you guessed it. More taxes to work on.

Worked on those dang things all day. The kids were supposed to make lunch. It had been previously discussed, but at 2:00 my daughter still had not emerged from her room. So I woke up the grumpy little head full of mush. She did not like it and I did not care. She dragged so I went and helped my son cook wontons.

 

The girl amazingly showed up once the food was plated. Such timing. All day she proved to be edgy. She punched her brother and clanged all the dishes and pots when she emptied the dishwasher. If she continues acting like this I may not let her go to New Mexico. I’ll eat the deposit before I reward this behavior.

I made the final push on the taxes and finished the beasties. Yay! That done I could focus on Fort Bend Writers Guild Franchise Tax. I am the treasurer of this group and have been for a decade I imagine. Now that my wife is on a five year project that does not require travel, I can consider going back to their weekly critique sessions. That would get me writing seriouly again.

Time was running short and my brain was turning to jelly. I wanted to watch the Survivor season finale. I read the instructions and I could phone in an extension for filing to November. So I did. Put that stuff and watched the show. Very disappointed that Terry lost.

We ate supper and watched the show. Simple fare. Salad boiled eggs and some garlic toast. Then my daughter became human again and made banana splits for Mothers Day.

The missus looks happy. Doncha think?

 

It is hard to believe the time that has passed since my siblings and I last shared a day with Mom. Probably seems strange that I cannot remember the details of that day. Though I could imagine the general drift of what transired.

My brother sending regrets as he was busy doing nothing. What has he ever done? My sister lived with mom at the time and would be more than eager to go out. And the destination for our lunch would be Luby’s Cafeteria, mom’s favorite.

The conversation would be probing. How was school? How was my job? Was I dating anyone? The last question being the most important. I had just given up on a Malaysian girl named Chung. She was too cold and I was too me.

This was our first Mothers Day without my stepfather’s presence. He had been buried just the month before. I don’t remember if the conversation ever touched upon him. It must have been strange without him there worrying about the dog left at home alone for a couple of hours. I remember his funeral took place right in the middle of finals. I juggled driving family around town between studing and exams. Time did not permit me the time to visit the funeral home for visitation. So my mom had the casket opened up at the grave so I could have a last peek. Last thing I wanted to see and it resulted in the last thing I thought I would ever do for him. Tears streamed down my cheeks in front of the crowd. My two oldest stepsisters Frances and Margaret both came over and hugged me until I could compose myself.

 I probably forgave her that by Mothers Day. Why shouldn’t I? She thought she was letting me say goodbye. The sad thing as we ate our meal is that none of us had any inkling that Mom would not be there for next year. We treated it as just another holiday lunch at Lubys.

If I had know our time together was coming to an end I might have done things differently. Been more thankful instead of ducking her annoying questions.

As I look back she did so much for me. Mom fled to Arizona pregnant with me, as bastards were not acceptable in the Bible belt at that time. Mom had to do so much for me in those days. She learned to drive, found a job, found people to watch me while she worked. Mom even learned how to cook. Finally my brother (he was surprised that he was no longer the only child) arrived and he helped a bit. And then friends kept introducing her to men and she found one that she married and later adopted me.

They worked hard and bought a nice house in Tempe. Mom stayed home as she gave birth to my sister. We lived the American dream. My brother made sure I caught the bus and mom was there when I came home from kindergarten.

Problem was they spent too much money for a postal workers pay. So the dream became a nightmare forcing them to run from bill collecters all the way back to Houston where I could be accepted now since mom had a husband. Damn I wish I had been born in Texas, though I always long for the mountains surrounding the Valley of the Sun. Life might have been so much simpler without a man calling you bastard every time you made a mistake.

But mom protected me from him as best she could. Mom made sure he never learned of any trouble I had at school. She took me to the doctor. Saw that I made frequent trips to the library so I could read about places far from home. She would bring me special treats or give me a ride to a friend’s house.

She tried to keep patches on my knees, though I know I tore through pants faster then she could ever hope to mend them. Mom made sure I always had a crewcut as a boy and advocated for me to let if grow longer (though not much) when I made it to Junior High School. When I insisted on wearing bell bottoms and silk shirts with French sleeves she helped me stay in fashion. Mom let me buy music records that I had to hide from my stepfather. When he found them he would throw them in the trash.

Mom made sure we made it to Foleys every Christmas. They had toy trains running and miniature wonderlands set up and you could watch elves building toys and the like. At the end of the line you would find Santa Claus. Mom would not tell Santa that I was naughty boy (usually I was) and then I would tell him all of the things I wanted him to bring me.

I remember mom sitting around playing board games with my sister and I. Helping us dye Easter eggs. Light matches so we could play with sparklers on the 4th of July. Mom helped me win the Halloween poster contest every year for my class. And then she helped me get it displayed at Butera’s grocery in the neighborhood.

It was my mom that dropped me off to work and picked me up when my shift was over when I got a job in High School. I still had the nerve to ask for an allowance. She took me to football games when I marched in the band. Mom made sure I arrived on time for concerts and music contests.

 Mom was my guardian angel when the old man got drunk. She kept him away from us on the worst nights. But some nights he would come out and verbally rip her apart. My sister and I laughed because we were too stupid to know better, while mom would cry and try to shoo us off to our rooms.

Mom made sure I got up on Sunday to go to church. She would always come in and tickle me awake, which I enjoyed. I did not enjoy my sister coming in with her and tickling me too. I yelled at my sister one Sunday to express my displeasure with her presence. When my stepfather heard the yelling he assumed I yelled at mom. He hit me so hard I flew up into the air until I crashed into the wall. Somehow Mom made sure that never happened again. At least not until I could fight back and stop it myself.

Sunday afternoon usually meant hamburgers or a cafeteria. Then mom, my sister and I would go to the movies. Anything to keep us away from home. During baseball season I would go see the Astros home games on Sunday. The best times as a family would be the four of us going to a baseball game.

Mom made sure I had a boy scout uniform with all of my scouting patches sown on. She drove me to meetings. She would get up at five in the morning on Saturday when I would go camping and drop me off at the scout house. She saved up money so I could go to summer camp. Then she took me to the doctor for my camp physical.

My mom cried the day the recruiter picked me up and took her baby boy to the army. She drove up to Missouri for my graduation from basic training. Mom would talk to me no matter how inconvenient the hour of my phone call. She mailed care packages packed with goodies, news, and little knick-knacks that expressed her love for me. Mom always gave so much that I could share with my buddies and still be damn stuffed. She did all of that for the entire time I was in the service.

When I left the service for school she took me shopping so I would dress well for class. She even offered to buy me a nice earring, though I never found one that I liked. Mom was confident that I would be the first family member to graduate. She knew I would do better in college with the discipline I picked up in the army. All through High School she commented on how I passed my classes despite the fact that I hardly looked at the books. My other mother, my drill sergeant, had opened me up to a harsh world. With their combined efforts I became a much better student.

Mom would not see me graduate. She would meet my wife, though she would not see my wedding. My mother would have loved to spoil some grandkids, but that chance was not afforded her. And it is not for me to question God’s timing, it certainly disappointed me that the three things that would have made her happiest in this life were not realized. Of course there will be plenty of time to share this in eternity.

I’m thankful that God took my mom quickly and quietly. No pain. A big surprise to everyone. My mom was a bit of a joker and I think she enjoyed going away like that. I remember calling her at the hospital before going to work on Thursday at six. We chatted mostly small talk, well I did mention my girlfriend a bit. The two of us had visited mom just a couple days earlier at the hospital. My mom said she would be released from the hosipital in a couple of days. Nothing looked astray. I worked in a liquor warehouse at the time and the job was pretty tiring. It was a good paying job for a college student. I went to my girlfriend’s apartment after work. We were planning for Thanksgiving dinner the next week. Thats when my sister called around eleven. She informed me that my mom had died.

Just like that God took her. But he was nice enough to allow her kids to talk with her that evening.

I miss my mom. Still after 20 years. The one person that would hide me from all my demons. Would endure my shouts of hatred toward my stepfather. The only person that recognized that no matter how much I screwed up I would end up good. She lived the example of what a good human should be so I could have no doubt.

When you love someone never let things go. Do not take their presence for granted. When you love someone tell them. Leave no doubt that you care and never reject those feelings when they are expressed to you. You never know when that someone can be removed from this Earth. Regrets make a poor path to follow.

Hug your mom. Tell your mother that she is the greatest. Never lose a minute debating whether you should spend time with your mother. Be there for her. She was always there for you.

Happy Mothers Day!

I picked up this gem when I visited socialpest. She gave me the letter F and I am to take this letter and write 10 words that begin with it. I won’t tag anyone, but if you want a letter you can ask me and I will select one letter for you.

1.  Female: Because they make the world go round and round and round. And occasionally they even make things go upside down. Ouch!
2. Four: The number of people in my immediate family.
3. Father: What my children call me. At least when they are polite.
4. Future: The time of my visit and/or move to Asia.
5. Fear: The feeling I get when I think I cannot make the trip.
6. Faith: The key ingredient to salvation.
7. Fat: A likely location of my picture inside a dictionary is next to this word.
8. Fatt Hau: How this new blog is looking.
9. Fool: What a woman can turn me into with merely a wink.
10. Fornication: The sport I would suggest be added to the Olympic games.

Come get a letter if you want to play.

I told my mui, YvY, I would do this Q & A.

Question 1 : Many many happy wishes to you today on your blogging milestone, did you ever anticipate that you will be blogging for a year?
Sure. Why not?

Question 2 : What was your high points and low points in your blog journey?
High points : The high point was all the love I recieved when I ran away from Hurricane Rita. I did not expect such concern and I really appreciated it.
Low points : Whenever blogger goes down. I lose touch with the world.

Question 3 : What improvements you like to make to enhance your blogging experience even more in the future?
I would like to use more graphics, still shots and video. Things to improve my presentation.

Question 4 : Have you give offerings to the blogging gods this morning for a peaceful blogging season?
Nope. 

Question 5 : How many bloggers it takes to change a light bulb?
None. The light bulb never gets changed. Too busy blogging.

Question 6 : If a blogger falls down, will other bloggers hear him?
Depends on the size of the blogger. If it is me, damn straight your gonna hear it. And then I will write about it.

Meme over. No one tagged.

 If you get a chance, visit Little Miss May and wish her happy birthday. Also say Happy Birthday to the Little Bookworm.

“Why are you here?” She looked at me with dark twinkling eyes. The woman sipped from the latte the barista had left.

“I’m always here,” John replied. “You know that, Sarah. No matter what kind of roadblocks you throw up, I am always close by.”

Lips pursed, he took a slow slip of his dark Sumatran coffee.

“Stalking me,” Sarah declared. Brown eyes stared into his blue. Eyes she had declared beautiful on more than one occasion.

John took another long slow slip. He looked at a display of CDs containing songs that inspired various artists.

“You won’t deny it,” she asked.

“I will not lie.” John met her gaze.

“Could you act like a man?” The woman scooted back on her stool and sat straight up in her chair. “Give me some reason to reject you. A damn good one too.”

“I’m married.”

“There,” she said. “Why do you love me? Or do you just play with me?”

John clasped his hands and leaned forward. Then he spoke, “I don’t love you. I adore you. The words you speak, the light that shines on your face. Even the wind that caresses your toes.”

“You should go.” Sarah said. Her right hand lifted her cup to her mouth, while her left hand tapped a steady tempo on the wooden tabletop.

“But you don’t want me to.” John replied.

Sarah set down her cup and set her hands in her lap. She watched the barista deliver a tray with three coffees to an adjacent table.

“You are my muse,” John spoke. His voice broke a bit and his lower lip quivered. “When my pen goes dry I speak your name. And the words flow once more.”

Sarah smiled lips pressed firmly together. “You are being dramatic, John. What’s your point?”

“The thought of you nurtures poetry within my heart,” John replied. Then he cleared his throat, more loudly than he wanted. “I love my family. I could never leave them for anything in the world.”

“Yes.” The woman cocked her head to the side and analyzed the man across the table from her.

“But I need you. Where can I dip my pen and find the words for my poetry. You are my inspiration.”

Sarah brushed her hair away from her eyes. “And your family is?”

“Responsibility” John spoke each syllable with slow clarity. “A man is nothing without responsibility.”

“And you cannot find inspiration from them?” She looked at John, her brown eyes intense, searching.

“It is difficult at best,” he said. A family provides many thing. A wife demands stability and motivation to improve yourself. Children provide joy and need to be taught the lessons of life.”

Sarah sighed and stared into her half empty cup. John took a deep swallow, the hot liquid felt good going down his throat.

“This is the most I can expect from you,” she asked?

“And what is wrong with immortality?” He slapped his hand on the table. “You would not be hidden like a concubine. I would always credit you in my dedication.”

“You make it sound attractive.” Sarah pursed her lips and rolled eyes with her response.

“Not as attractive as you.”

The woman’s eyes widened and now she bared teeth with her grin. She spoke through clenched teeth, “And now you flatter me.”

John’s eyes averted down. A shy smile blended in with the slight blush that suddenly came to his cheeks, “Flattery is how I found you. I never thought it would bring me this far. I mean… I am just a natural flirt. I never meant any harm to you.”

“You think that you, a writer, could at least make that sound more appealing.” Sarah leaned back in her chair. She crossed her right leg over her left, while leaning against her right arm, which she propped across the back of the chair.

“God woman.” John slowly shook his head from side to side. “I only knew you for one week and you have me writing bloody poetry. Poetry! No one has prodded poetry out of me in… years. Decades even.” He placed his hands flat upon the table. John hoped that Sarah would not notice them quiver.

“Poetry does make my heart beat faster.” Sarah flashed her smile at John. The smile that displayed her perfect teeth and melted hearts. It also lit flames to the arrows of his muse.

“Yes.” John smiled as Sarah proved infectious. “Poetry has to. Any decent poetry does. Especially my poems in which I dedicate every word to making your heart beat.”

Sarah sighed audibly. Deeply. The woman leaned forward in her chair, her wonderful dark almond eyes looking firmly at John. “I appreciate it. Really I do. But a poem does not hold my hand or kiss my lips.”

John gasped and looked away. He searched for anything to latch upon. Hope, truth, but only infatuation looked upon him.

“This is the best I can ever do for you Sarah. Despite my adoration, I do love my wife. As long as she breathes I can never abandon her.”

“Am I your midlife crisis,” she asked? Words spoken like daggers. Her chin turned firmly up, daring him to lie.

John laughed. Hands clapped together once and then he spoke, “You are my Adonis, my Aphrodite. A single whiff of your perfume, the curl of your hair, the shape of your lovely eyes can elicit a thousand words.”

“But I want a thousand embraces” she declared. Her enthusiasm to debate waning.

“Go find them. If anyone deserves the whole heart of a man, Sarah it is you. You know how they say the grass is greener. If I left my wife on the basis of finding joy with you, that joy would never come. Not for either one of us.” John steepled his hands and looked into the woman’s eyes.

Sarah slowly shook her head in disbelief. She opened her mouth, closed it and finally managed, “Oh really?”

“Truly,” John replied emphasizing his point by slapping the table, causing coffee to jiggle in their cups. “If I abandon my family on the basis of finding happiness I will never find that happiness. Reason being, I must be miserable to leave my children and their mother. Men leave their families too frequently seeking happiness. And while any jackass can leave the ones that are most important, you can never abandon your misery.”

“Why is that?” Sarah adjusted from right side of the chair to the left. “I mean why would you retain the misery? I’m confused.”

“A miserable person can never be happy. Yeah maybe they experience some short emotional bursts here and there. But emotion is never sustained for long. You have to find happiness when you think. A thoughtful happiness can last forever.”

“How do you find it?” Sarah looked back, her eyes locking into his.

“Come now, dearie,” John smiled. “I cannot answer everything today. I just need you to know why I am fond of you. How much I value you as my muse. You are move valuable to me as an inspiration than anyone or anything else in the world. Seeing you provides me with the confidence that I can be the scribe.”

Sarah sighed heavily. Cheeks inflating and deflating as she breathed. “But that leaves me rather empty” she said.

“Please don’t feel like that,” he replied. He inhaled slowly and locked her gaze with that of his own. “Drink from my words. Let my sentences sustain you, and my paragraphs lift you to your dreams. Allow my expression to be the sustenance of a special love that only we share. Tell me that it is good enough. Tell me.”