Coffee, Cigarettes, and Big Books…

I and George walked into the meeting hall. The wonderful robust aroma of coffee hung in the air. Most of the members were still outside on the back porch smoking cigarettes and talking.

“What happens now?” George asked as we took a seat in the almost deserted meeting hall.

“Oh, they will mosey on inside in a minute and the meeting will start,” I replied.

“I am the only nigga here,” George quietly said as he leaned over towards me.

“We will try Narcotics Anonymous tomorrow night,” I replied. “There should be black people at that meeting.”

A guy I know named Phillip walked into the meeting hall. He has long been friends with my ex-wife’s family. Phillip is this big, hulking man often dressed in old overalls; a very affable and likable fellow. I knew I could rely on him for some help. He has often tried to get me to be more active in AA as I have seen him around town. He knows of my history through Rachel, my ex-wife.

“Phillip,” I said feeling I could trust him. “We need to get George over there a temporary sponsor.”

Phillip pulled out his wallet and gave me one of his business cards.

“Fella, you give me a call if you are having a hard time,” Phillip said to George. “I will be your temporary sponsor until we can find someone more permanent.”

“You want a cup of coffee?” I then asked Sherman.

George declined so I went to go fix me a cup. A great crowd of the smokers soon came walking in and we all took our seats. The meeting had begun.

Tonight was a Big Book study. We went around the room reading a chapter and then discussing it. We talked about how we can gain sobriety through helping other alcoholics and always being the Good Samaritan. It was a fitting topic to discuss regarding what I am trying to do with helping Sherman and in turn, helping myself. The meeting ended and the hour had flown by. I and Sherman walked out into the parking lot to our cars.

“What are you going to be doing tonight?” I asked him trying to see if he was going to go get drunk.

“Momma’s cooking cubed steak with gravy, rice, butterbeans, and cornbread,” George replied. “I am going to head on home, eat, and then watch Cops on Court TV.”
“Man, that supper sounds damn good,” I replied. “You gonna stay sober tonight?”

George just smiled and got in his car replying, “We will see. I don’t want a drink right now.”

I did all I can really do and now the rest shall be up to George. We will continue with a Narcotics Anonymous meeting tomorrow night if he is willing to go and to continue to stay sober.

Adventures in Alcoholics Anonymous

George told me that he would start going to AA if I went with him last night. I was shocked and told him I would be glad to help him out. We will go every night starting tonight. He had been to the doctor the other day about abdominal pains and the physician had warned him that he was on the verge of getting cirrhosis of the liver. If he quits now that some of the damage to his liver can be reversed and healed.

“Do you think you can quit on your own without rehab?” I asked him.

“I ain’t got enough money to afford a rehab,” George replied.

I got online and found a faith based program down in Columbus, Georgia that lasted from six to nine months and it was funded by charities. I printed out the webpage and handed it to George. The first line he read out loud was, “The purpose of the Valley Rescue Mission is to exalt the name of the Lord Jesus Christ through spiritual, educational, and charitable means directed toward those in spiritual and economic need.” All these damn programs are faith based and that immediately turned George off to it. I would hate to think what a chronically alcoholic Hindu or Muslim would have to do to get help around here is this Podunk southern area of the country.

“I don’t know if all that Jesus speak is going to get me sober,” George said looking disheartened.

“You have got to do something though,” I replied. “I have never seen someone able to drink as much as you do and I was pretty bad drunk during my homeless days.”

“Would you go through the program with me?” George then pleaded.

I stood there and thought for a moment. That was a pretty tall order to ask of a friend; to give up six months of my life and put my new house on hold. I got on the phone and talked to a man about the program. Most of the people who go through the program are court ordered and the fellow on the other end seemed to imply that it was a very tough program to experience. I had mental images of being stuck in group-sleeping-dorm rooms and meeting halls with tough ex-cons for months on end eating bland prison like food.

“Let’s try AA for a few weeks and see how we both do,” I replied. “We need to get you a sponsor you can talk to right away.”

“I don’t think I can talk to some old white drunk about my problems,” George said.

“You talk to me about them all the time!” I replied as I laughed. “But I wouldn’t make a good sponsor as we drank together all the time. We will ask around though and find you a black sponsor near your age. And stay away from Ferret, dammit! He will cause you to get drunk!” I emphatically added.

I handed George my Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book, which is basically like their bible, and a copy of The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. He assured me he was going to start reading them today. Will George get sober and stay sober? In my time, I’ve seen some pretty bad drunks come through AA and quit drinking. Hopefully, we can do the same for George and it will help me stay sober as well by helping a fellow alcoholic.

Not so Merry Maggie

You can tell Maggie just doesn’t feel well. Her mood is so somber, depressed and scary. I guess from going to being thrown into a dumpster, to be being poked and prodded, finally to have major surgery will have a profound effect upon your mood state of being.

She is also getting fleas and they must be coming from the backyard. I have gone to great expense in medicated flea baths out at the vet and she is still infested with the vermin. I am worried she will become anemic. I guess I will go have to purchase some type of yard treatment today and then go have her bathed once again. The poor animal is going to be a neurotic mess after all these trips to the vet.

Having seizures……

I now know how Alaine has felt. I have never had one seizure in my whole life. I had three today.

An old friend contacted me about playing a game we’ve played off and on for over four years. I was the fourth member to join this gaming clan years ago. He wanted me to come out of retirement to play a defensive position on a six man team in a new league tournament coming up. I told him I would and that I would start practicing today.

It is a first person shooter game called elite force based on the ill-fated Star Trek voyager series than ran for seven years. It is built upon the popular Quake III arena engine and plays much the same.

I installed the game and started practicing. I was amazed to find that people still play this game after a year long hiatus. It can get really intense with extremely fast movement and things whirling around on the screen. I was in an intense game trying to keep my flag from getting taken and it happened.

I slumped over the keyboard and started to jerk and shake violently. I tried to play some more and then another seizure and then another. I had to log off and go lay down. The movement on the screen was giving me seizures. It wasn’t painful, just weird, as if I was no longer in control of my body. I would shake and jerk violently and the mouse would fall off the table to the floor.

I am sad because I really wanted to make a comeback and help my friend. I don’t know how to explain this. I think I will just tell him I do not have the time to play anymore. I used to be in the top ten best players in the USA out of thousands. Now, I am a has been.

Not Feeling well at all…

I have spent most of the day lying in the bed. I am not feeling well at all for some reason. It is also hot as hell in here and I need to finally break down, shut my windows and turn on the air conditioner. I am sure the heat is not helping with what ails me. I do think it is just depression. I sometimes just get the blahs for no apparent reason. I feel like something ran over me today though.

George also came by this morning wanting me to ride down to Auburn with him. He needed to go to Lowe’s to buy some parts for his mother’s toilet which is malfunctioning. The thought of riding with George in his junky car doing 75 miles an hour on the interstate was a scary proposition. I also have a hard time discerning how much he has had to drink. I told him I had to pass on that little adventure although it would have been interesting to write about. Certainly more interesting than the boring shit I have been writing about this week.

Abbagirl had asked in a comment if I was going to try and work again. I am not sure. Luckily, I can afford to not work and still live relatively comfortably although the extra money would be nice. I still have my eye on a new full frame backpack to go camping with this summer. I would also like to purchase another digital camera. I actually hate I had to quit working at the grocery store. It was rather a perfect job only a ten minute walk from my house although my relationship with the gang could complicate that venture somewhat.

Well, I think I am going to walk upstairs and turn on the central heating and air and get things cool in here in a hurry. I have just about had enough of this heat for one summer. Maybe that will get me to feeling better.

Not much to tell…

Not much has gone on in my corner of the world today. George came by and we had a long talk about women and dating. I am too lazy and don’t feel like writing today so shall not write that up. George brought two ice cold forty ounces of beer. After much cajoling, I drank one and then felt extremely guilty for doing so. My flirtations with alcohol are going to get me into trouble eventually. The buzz from that beer felt so fucking awesome though. I was tempted to go buy another. That is why I just cannot drink. I can’t moderate my intake.

Ferret also came by today wanting to re-borrow that portable DVD player. Once bitten, twice shy was the order of the day. I told him no. I didn’t want to have to go get it back out of pawn. Ferret then wanted to borrow a dollar and I gave it to him just to get rid of him. He happily walked down the street headed for Fred’s dollar store to buy a bottle of mouthwash.

I did take Maggie out to be spayed today. I thought I would just get it over with. She was not happy with having to revisit the veterinarian. I felt so bad at having to put her through that. I don’t want a litter of puppies to find a home for though. The vet seemed to think she was already pregnant. I will be able to pick her back up tomorrow.

Muggy Summer Nights

I finally just broke down and turned on my air conditioner. It had rained all evening and the temperature was hovering around eighty degrees. The humidity in my house was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. My sheets and bedspread had grown damp and uncomfortable to sleep in. They were actually sticking to my skin! Uggg! Hopefully, the dehumidifying effect of my air conditioner will rapidly dry my house and then I am heading back to bed.

I have gotten in the habit of sleeping with the radio on at night. I tune it to 870 AM out of New Orleans. Every night, a show called Coast to Coast AM comes on in the wee hours of the morning. Their favorite topic of discussion is UFOs and Aliens. It never ceases to amaze me that they can fill four hours of radio with such nonsense and people actually believe it and call in to talk about it in such a serious manner! It is quite amusing to me in a funny sort of way. I just have my doubts that an advanced civilization is traveling hundreds upon thousands of light years just to mutilate our cattle and perform anal probes. And about these alien abductions: The aliens have poor taste in test subjects. I could think of thousands upon thousands of other, more interesting things to do than hang out and fuck with a bunch of primates on some backwater rock in a little known solar system in the Milky Way galaxy.

For Jade to Answer her Comments

If I remember correctly, you wanted to know why my neighbor’s don’t let me keep Rosie while they are gone on such trips. They really didn’t know Rosie comes over here all the time until lately. Todd (my neighbor) sent the kids out on a search party for Rosie just before their trip. They went around the neighbor’s houses looking for her by knocking on doors. They finally came by my house and the kids came inside and got Rosie. They also live several houses down from me and we all have huge yards, and we are not really on a first name basis per se. I see them only in passing.

My father knows about Rosie coming in with me, but disapproves. Rosie is a very old dog and I think this tends to temper his disapproval a bit. He just doesn’t want this new puppy to get in the habit of staying inside all the time. Growing up we always had dogs and they were always outside dogs. Our dogs were never allowed to come inside unless it was the most inclement of weather, and even then they would be relegated to the basement. My father’s mother was the same way about animals in the house as well. My father once got a parakeet as a gift one time. My grandmother “accidentally” let it fly out the door as she was housecleaning not long after he received it as a pet. Like mother, like son, I guess as they say.

A Jolly Old Chap

I was accused yesterday by a family member of being “too happy” these days. I was like, “What the fuck?” How can you be too happy? They were worried my anti-depressant was causing a manic high as I have a continuous smile on my face these days. I have never been accused of being bi-polar or manic depressive before. I have pretty much been a morose depressed little son of a bitch for years. Can’t I bask in the glory of the limelight of happiness for once? I dismissed their concerns without much of a second thought. Not even Satan himself could steal my thunder these days if I believed in such clap trap.

George came over to hang out and drink wine last night. His usual Saturday night poker game at Pookie’s house had been cancelled. Saturday nights are when I religiously watch my British comedies on Public Television. I am autistic-like in my routines and regimens; kind of like Dustin Hoffman’s caricature of Raymond in the movie Rainman. Raymond religiously had to watch People’s Court. I am the same way with my British comedies on Saturday nights.

George had bought a plastic bag filled with four bottles of Wild Irish Rose wine.

“Surely, you are not going to drink all of those tonight?” I asked.

“Watch me,” George said defiantly with a facetious grin on his face.

At first, George didn’t find my British comedies amusing or funny, but by the third bottle of wine, he was laughing hysterically. George’s antics were contagious and we both got to laughing so hard our sides began to hurt.

The only downside to the evening was that George hates to drink alone and kept offering me his bottle of wine. It was tempting, but I have taken a solemn vow not to drink these days. I came to the realization that drinking is so depressing and a major component of my depressive moods over the years. It was amusing to watch George imbibe in the spirits though.

George finally got so drunk he passed out in my lazy boy recliner. I turned off the TV and lights and went to bed. I awoke again around 4 a.m. in the morning to use the bathroom and George was gone. He had slipped quietly out into the night and headed home. I am sure he will have a vicious hangover this morning. Bless his little drunken soul.

Burning the Midnight Oil

Well, I pulled an all-nighter and didn’t sleep a wink last night. It has been a night of excess music, coffee and cigarettes. I can just now see the first glow of dawn beyond this computer monitor outside my window. The birds have begun to wake and call with earnestness. Rosie is lying on the floor beside me and snoring softly. She is smarter than I.

My eyelids are just now growing heavy and I think I will be soon to go to bed. That will probably mean no updates on the gang today. Saturday will be spent sleeping. This is going to completely fuck up my sleeping schedule. C’est la vie as they say.

I got an email yesterday morning from my brother in Iraq. He wrote that he will be home in September. He is an officer and physician in the Navy attached to a group of Marines. The emails from Iraq are carefully monitored and censored by the military so he couldn’t say much. He said he is tired of the drab brown landscape of Iraq and longs for the green countryside of the southern United States. I and my family will be glad when he steps foot back on American soil. It will have been seven months since he left. His wife and young daughter live in San Diego. He misses them deeply.

Well, let me go close my windows and back door and turn on the AC. It is supposed to be extremely hot today with temperatures in the high nineties. I went all last summer without using my air conditioner to save money and sweated my ass off. There is no worse feeling than waking up in sweaty, wet sheets on a hot and humid summer’s night. This summer I have decided not to be a cheap bastard and have been turning on the air at night. Good night….err….should I say good morning. Oh, I am so confused and delirious with lack of sleep and caffeine from copious amounts of coffee.

Calamity Strikes

Well, calamity for Big S as he now has no where to sit his fat lazy ass down at the shopping center while he panhandles. Sometime yesterday, workmen came and removed all the benches lining the perimeter of the shopping center near the shops and the grocery store. I am not sure if this was an attempt by the management to deter these men from hanging out down there all day. They will occasionally call in the police from time to time to run the gang off for a few days when the loitering problem grows out of hand.

Big S was livid mad when I saw him this morning. He was cussing up a storm and saying that this was some convoluted plot by “the white man” against black patrons. He said he was going to “take his business elsewhere.”

“What business?” I asked. “You don’t buy anything from the shops unless you are talking about the business of begging people for money.”

Big S told me to shut the fuck up and that I was taking sides with the white man.

This probably won’t deter any of the gang from hanging out down there. Cap W/Tag Guy (who I need to add to the cast of characters) always stands up against the wall between the dollar store and the grocery store. Droopy usually stands as well. Big S will probably just plop his big ass down on the sidewalk against the wall. HIV/AIDs Guy and Shifty are usually so hyped up on crack cocaine that they can’t sit still anyway for more than a few seconds. We will just have to see how this all pans out over the next few days. My educated guess is that things will be back to normal in just a short time. Old habits die hard and these men have nothing better to do than to hang out down there all day. It is groupie social central.

A Helping Hand

I spent a long time this morning printing out all the forms for applying for Social Security disability for Ferret. Ferret is concerned he will need a lawyer and can’t afford one. I assured him I got my disability on the first try without a lawyer. I even went so far as to stamp the envelope to make it easy for him and told him to stick it in my mail box after filling them out and to put up the outgoing mail flag. He needs to start the process now as it can take months and winter is approaching. I told him he doesn’t want to be homeless during the winter as it is a miserable and cold existence. I know from direct experience. With some stable income maybe we can get him an apartment. Housing is cheap here in the small town I live in.

I am also trying to get Ferret to go to the local mental health clinic once a month and see a doctor and get on some medications. He doesn’t like to talk about it though and it is like pulling teeth to get him to discuss his depression and mental illness. He needs some documentation and history of treatment to more easily get on disability.

When I was homeless, I would go by the clinic once a month to get my medications and to see the doctor. Seeing the doctor was free and each bottle of medication was subsidized by the county for only two dollars a bottle. So money is not a factor in Ferret obtaining this service. I think he is avoiding the issue because he doesn’t want to admit he has a problem.

Drink Up for Tomorrow May Never Come

George came by the house this morning wanting to borrow twenty more dollars for beer. I lied and told him I didn’t have it. Monday is my grocery buying day and I needed all the money I had. I did have a bottle of wine in my kitchen cabinet and told him he could have it, but I didn’t have a corkscrew to open it.

“I can open it,” George said. “Do you have a screw and a pair of pliers?”

I walked into the garage and got a long wood screw, a screw driver, and a pair of pliers. George screwed that screw deep into the cork and used the pair of pliers to pry the cork out leveraging with the head of the screw and the rim of the bottle.

“I would have never thought of doing that,” I replied as I laughed. “That’s why I have never drunk that wine as I couldn’t open it.”

I gave George a plastic cup and he proceeded to drink the whole bottle in a matter of minutes. The irony of drinking a 1999 vintage merlot from a plastic cup didn’t escape me.

“I am fixing to head down to Ferret’s campsite,” I told him. “You want to come?”

“I’ll give you a ride down there,” George replied.

I was kind of uneasy about riding with George after he had drank that bottle of wine, but said what the hell and got in the car. George cranked it up and we were on our way. George parked at the bank by the railroad tracks and we walked the rest of the way to the river and Ferret’s humble abode.

Ferret was drinking beer and cooking breakfast when we arrived. I noticed he had somehow acquired a propane powered camp stove and was boiling some water.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked as we walked up.

Ferret pulled a package of Ramen noodles out of his backpack and showed it to me. George then asked Ferret for a beer. Ferret obliged by pulling a Miller High Life out of a case pack in his tent.

“I don’t see how you two can drink warm beer so early in the morning,” I replied forgetting my homeless days.

Ferret and George both laughed. I used to would drink from dawn to dusk to be honest when I was homeless.

We all sat and talked for the longest time as much beer was consumed. The conversation got on the topic of whether black women make better lovers than white women. George vehemently argued with me that black women do indeed make better lovers.

“You’ve been with a black woman once, haven’t you?” Sherman asked remembering a previous similar conversation we had on this subject.

“Yeah, and she wasn’t anything special,” I replied. “Actually, she was rather lame, but I was pretty drunk at the time.”

George scoffed and Ferret laughed.

“You just ain’t been with the right black woman,” George said. “I can hook you up.”

“Yeah, and I will have to pay twenty dollars for it as well,” I replied. “No thanks. I’m not about to pay for pussy.”

Ferret and George grew drunker and drunker until I got tired of their drunken rambling and nonsense. I bid them both farewell and walked on home. I still can’t get over how George opened that bottle of wine. Where there is a will there is a way I guess; a little alcoholic ingenuity.

Quiet Day

Well, I didn’t see George or any of the gang today. I was too lazy to ride down to Ferret’s campsite or the shopping center. Today was a laid back Sunday spent reading books, smoking cigarettes, and drinking coffee. I am reading Kate Chopin’s The Awakening.

I walked over at lunch time and ate with my parents. My father is such a wonderful cook. He learned to cook later in life when my mother came down with late onset schizophrenia. She spends much of her time in the bed these days. Dad cooked a pork loin, rattlesnake green beans, squash, boiled potatoes, and cornbread. It was a good old southern lunch and was delicious. I ate two helpings and was stuffed.

Hopefully, I will get down to Ferret’s campsite early in the morning. I have a few more movies I want to give to him. No doubt he will come back up to the house to recharge that DVD player as well. You can only watch about two movies on one charge. It will be good to see him. I also plan on hanging out for a while at the shopping center so maybe I will have some tales about Big S, Droopy, and the gang to write about in the next few days.

I hope you all had a great weekend and I appreciate your reading and your comments. You make this endeavor worthwhile. Take care and good night.

Entertainment Recharged

I was sitting here at the computer when I heard a sound outside. Rosie immediately began to bark up a storm and ran to the backdoor. I got up and walked over to look outside. It was Ferret recharging the DVD player on the side of my house. I walked out to talk to him.

“Hey man!” I said as I shook his hand. “I thought I had a burglar.”

“Hope you don’t mind me doing this,” He said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, not at all. I told you it was okay,” I replied.

“Man, I really appreciate this,” He said. “It gives me something to do when I can’t sleep. I lay in my sleeping bag with it on my chest and watch.”

“Do you need some more movies?” I asked.

“Sure,” Ferret replied.

I have a very limited DVD collection. Most of them were Christmas gifts. I walked in and got Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King and Spiderman 2.

“Have you seen these?” I asked Ferret as I handed him the movies.

“Man, I have wanted to see both of those,” He said. “I am going to buy me some beers and have movie night tonight.”

“They are both great movies,” I replied.

“Thanks man. You are a good friend and a kind man,” Ferret said as he put the movies in his backpack.

“Hey, it ain’t no thang,” I said. “I would have died to have one of those DVD players when I was homeless. Those were some long, cold and boring nights in the woods. I read a lot of books by candlelight.”

I asked Ferret if he wanted something to drink and he said no. He said he was going to walk down to the shopping center and would be back for the DVD player after it had charged. I felt kind of uneasy leaving it outside like that as it is so expensive, but let those fears pass. I might be gone when Ferret came back if I had brought it inside to charge. Hell, I would never use the damn thing anyway so I guess it doesn’t matter.

Down from a High

George came over tonight. He was feeling really hung over and was in a dour mood. He just wanted someone to talk to. Amazingly, he didn’t have any alcohol on him and was almost sober. I later learned that he had run out of money. We sat in my den and talked.

“I need to quit drinking,” He told me which surprised me completely.

“I worry about you man,” I replied. “I worry you are going to get cirrhosis of the liver.”

“What is cirrhosis?” George asked.

“It is where your liver fills with fatty tissue and quits functioning,” I replied.

“Shit, man, you didn’t have to tell me all that,” George said. “That sounds fucked up.”

“How much beer do you drink a day?” I asked him.

“Oh, I’d say about a case and a few bottles of wine,” He said.

“Damn, man, that is a lot of alcohol,” I replied. “Have you thought about alcoholics anonymous?”

“I don’t believe in all that Jesus, God and higher power shit,” He said. “I don’t want to be in a room with a bunch of drunks whining about their problems.”

“Yeah, I understand. That’s why AA never worked for me neither,” I replied.

You could tell George needed a drink really badly. His hands were shaking along with his voice. I felt so sorry for him.

“Let’s go get some beer,” I said. “It is on me.”

George’s eyes lit up and a smile formed on his face. I hated to see the man suffer.

“I was just about to ask you for twenty dollars to get some,” He said. “I am broke.”

I drove us down to Fat Albert’s convenience store and we got a twelve pack of George’s favorite beer, Milwaukee’s Best Ice. We then drove the short drive back home and immediately George cracked open a beer upon arriving and guzzled it down. I opened a beer for myself and slowly started to sip on it. We continued to talk until George had finished what was left of that twelve pack.

“You alright for a white boy,” George said slurring his words.

“I just know how it is,” I replied. “I have walked in your shoes. I was a drunk of the highest order.”

“Did you drink when you were homeless?” George asked.

I laughed heartily.

“Man, I was drinking a case of beer a day like you,” I replied. “I stayed fucked up for days on end until I had to sober up to drive into town.”

The effects of that strong ice beer started to hit George hard. He started to nod off from lack of sleep.

“Come on, man,” I said. “Let’s get you home.”

“What about my car?” George asked as he stumbled to stand up.

“I will come get you in the morning and bring you back over here,” I replied.

I drove George on home. George’s mother greeted us at the door. She was none too pleased to find her son once again drunk.

“Thanks you for bringing him home,” She said to me with a forced smile.

“I will get him tomorrow so he can get his car,” I told her then said good night as she helped him inside.

I guess you could say I “enabled” George tonight with his addiction. I just know from my own battle with addiction that you will find anyway to get it and it was much safer for me to buy it and for George to drink over here where I could take him home. George is such a good guy. I wonder what he would be like if he sobered up and turned around his life. Hopefully, someday I will find out. I will do my part to help him.

Accosted

I went for my early morning walk this morning. Last summer, I would hike for miles and miles everyday. My dream was to someday hike the Appalachian Trial. The last leg of my walk brings me by the shopping center where the grocery store resides. I noticed Dumpster Diving Dan busily scouring the dumpster behind the store. He looked busy so I didn’t bother him. I hadn’t seen him for a few days and it was tempting to go talk to him. Dan is a great old guy.

I walked on into the store and bought me a Gatorade and a pack of crackers. I went back outside and sat down next to Big S on the bench between the dollar store and the grocery store. Droopy was standing up against the wall looking enigmatic as ever.

“What’s up, man?” Big S said as I sat down.

“Before you start, I don’t have any cigarettes,” I replied.

Big S chuckled.

“Man, I don’t want yo cigarettes,” He said showing me the pack in his shirt pocket.

About this time a little old black lady came ambling out of the dollar store carrying a bag. Big S lifted his great heft and walked over to her. She looked so surprised to be confronted by this big man. Big S was twice her size and so imposing.

“Ma’am, my car has run out of gas. Could you spare a few dollars so I can get home?” He asked. Big S doesn’t even own a car.

The poor lady sat her bag down on the ground and opened her purse and pulled out a one dollar bill and gave it to him. I watched as she walked off and Big S came back over to sit down with a big grin on his face.

“Works every time,” He said feeling pleased.

“Man, don’t you have any scruples?” I asked. “That poor old lady probably doesn’t have much money.”

“What is a scruple?” Big S asked.

“You know, ethics and morality,” I replied.

“Man, I gotta feed myself,” Big S said smugly.

I shook my head, finished my Gatorade, and walked on home. Big S doesn’t have a moral bone in his body. He would panhandle candy off of a small child.

Clean and Shaven

I once again made my way down to Ferret’s campsite this morning. Ferret loved the use of the DVD player and the movie. X-Men 3 lived up to his expectations. He then asked me if I would give him a ride down to the truck stop to get a shower and a shave. We walked back to my house and got in my car. Ferret didn’t have a razor or shaving cream so we swung by my father’s pharmacy and got some under the guise that they were for me.

After Ferret had showered, we ate some breakfast in the truck stop restaurant and talked over cups of coffee.

“I used to ride my motorcycle over here to shower when I was homeless as well,” I said.

“How long were you homeless?” Ferret asked.

“Six cold fucking months in the winter of 2003,” I replied.

“You were married, right?” Ferret asked.

“Yeah, for two years,” I replied.

The waitress came over to our table and refilled our cups of coffee. I told her thank you and she smiled the softest and most heartfelt smile. She was quite a specimen and her eyes mesmerized me. I was tempted to ask her for her phone number.

“What happened?” Ferret asked regaining my attention.

“What?” I asked having lost the flow of conversation.

“Your marriage,” He said.

“Oh, I had a bad drinking problem,” I replied. “She finally got fed up with it and wanted a divorce. I gave her everything except my motorcycle and walked away. That was when I became homeless. I had no where to go. I headed for the woods.”

“Man, that fuckin’ sucks,” Ferret said.

“Well, its just water under the bridge now,” I replied. “I try not to think about it too much these days.”

“Do you and her still talk?” Ferret asked.

“We haven’t spoken in over a year now,” I replied. “She is the librarian at our local library and has done well for herself I have heard. I am happy for her.”

“Was she sexy?” Ferret asked.

“What is this? Twenty questions?” I asked as I laughed. “Yeah, she was a sweetheart. She had one hell of a nice ass. I miss her sometimes. Life’s not meant to be lived alone.”

“I ain’t ever getting married,” Ferret said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t want no woman telling me what to do,” Ferret said.

I laughed.

“Well, if you get married then that tends to happen from time to time,” I said with a smile. “Women have a mind of their own.”

The waitress brought our check and asked us if we wanted another refill. I asked Ferret if he wanted anymore. He said no.

“No thank you ma’am,” I said. “We are fine.”

I paid for our meals and I and Ferret headed back up the interstate into town. I dropped him off at the railroad tracks and watched for a moment as he walked off to his humble campsite in the woods. I then drove on home feeling thankful for my home and my loving family. Ferret has neither; just another day in the life of a homeless man. A good homeless man at that though.

Christmas in June

George was a no-show last night. He probably got waylaid at Pookie’s house. I wasn’t too disappointed as it was very late when he called and I was not far from the bed. I was just glad he was okay as he had disappeared for days. I saved his message last night and listened to it again this morning. I laughed once again; nothing like being called a “white cracka.”

I thrilled Ferret’s soul this morning. Ferret called it, “Christmas in June.” My sister, the doctor, gave me one of those expensive portable DVD players for Christmas last year. I have never even taken it out of the box as I don’t watch many DVDs. Well, this morning I took it out and charged the battery. I also burned the latest X-Men movie to a DVD. I rode down to Ferret’s campsite and handed the DVD player to him.

“What’s this?” Ferret asked.

“It is the new X-Men movie you have wanted to see so badly,” I replied.

Ferret hasn’t had the money or the transportation to go see it. It is kinda hard to stay up on current movies when you are homeless.

“You’re shitting me?” Ferret said as he grinned furiously.

“I am serious,” I said. “You can watch it on that thing. I burned it to DVD.”

“Ah, man, you are the best,” He replied shaking my hand.

“Promise me you are not going to pawn that DVD player for beer though,” I replied. “If you need beer that bad then bring the DVD player back and we will go get a twelve pack and I will pay for it.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Ferret said. “I promise I won’t pawn it.”

“If you need to recharge it, walk over to the house and there is a plug just outside my backdoor on the side of the house,” I said. “The adaptor is in the bag.”

“Man, this is Christmas in June,” Ferret said with a grin.

I showed Ferret how to use it and he just marveled at the little contraption. I told him if he wanted some more movies to come by the house and I would burn some more. I then bid him farewell.

I made my way up to the shopping center. The only groupie out there was Droopy and Droopy is not much company so I headed on home to fix some breakfast and take my medicine. Thus ends today’s tale.

A Call to the White Cracka

I was sitting here at the computer about thirty minutes ago. The phone rang. As usual, I let my answering machine pick it up. My eyes lit up when I heard it was George. The message went as follows:

Hey you, white cracka. Pick up da phone. You there? I gots a case of beer and two packs of cigars with yo name written on it.

I walked over and picked up the phone.

“Where in the fuck have you been?” I asked George.

“I knew yo white ass was dere,” George replied. “You up for a late night party?”

“Man, shit, I can’t drink, but you can come over and we will shoot the shit while you have a few,” I replied. “I sure can smoke a few cigars though.”

“Alright,” George said. “I be over in about ten minutes.”

It has now been thirty minutes and still no George. I will write more when and if he arrives.

A Sandwich of Help

Ferret walked over to my house late yesterday evening. I didn’t even know he knew where I lived. I guess Sherman told him. Ferret was hungry and wanted to borrow a few bucks to get something to eat. I didn’t have any money, but did fix him a couple of turkey and cheese on wheat sandwiches and gave him a coca-cola. He hungrily ate them as we sat on my front porch and talked. He said they were, “the best damn sandwiches he had ever eaten.” I had some really delicious deli sliced turkey that I had paid way too much for the other day.

The bad thing about living in a small town and being homeless is there are no soup kitchens or services for the homeless. If you run out of money or food stamps then you go hungry unless you can find someone to help. Thus Ferret’s recent conundrum when his food stamps had run out.

Ferret is obsessed with going to see the new X-Men movie. That’s all we talked about as we sat on my porch. I told him I downloaded it and saw it a few days ago and that it was good. I had to explain to ferret how I could see a current in-theater movie via the internet. He told me that when he finds a home he wants a computer and the internet and wants me to teach him how to use them. I told him I would.

George has mysteriously disappeared for a few days. No one has seen him. It is times like these I worry that his luck in avoiding the police has finally run out. I do hope he is not sitting in a jail cell. Most likely, he is just holed up over at Pookie’s house or his mom’s house drinking away. He does have a tendency to disappear from time to time. As soon as his drinking money runs out, he will be out and about again and driving his taxi to fund his habit. I guess I need to give him a call and see what’s up.

Interesting Tale from Last Night

It was around 3:00 a.m. I had run out of milk and was dying for a cold glass of it. I decided to drive over to the all night convenience store. As I pulled into the parking lot, this black lady came running up to my car waving a ten dollar bill.

“Will you be giving me a ride?” She asked. “I be paying you ten dollars.”

“Keep your money lady,” I said. “Let me buy my milk and I will take you if it is not far.”

“Oh, I be livin’ up behind Kroger,” She replied.

Kroger was only a short drive away from the convenience store so I agreed. I bought my milk and we both climbed into the car to start her journey home.

“I be knowin’ you be a good man when you refused the ten dollars,” She said. “I just don’t want to be gettin’ killed by some crazy white man out at three a.m.”

“Well, I can assure you I am not going to kill you,” I replied. “There is not a violent bone in my body.”

“You be knowin’ Merl that owns the diner?” She asked me.

“I and my mother eat there every Thursday night,” I replied. “She knows my dad really well.”

“She be my sister,” The Lady said.

“It’s a small world,” I replied.

The Lady was talking really fast and frantically and she couldn’t sit still. It was becoming obvious she was under the influence of someone. Why else would someone be walking in the rain at 3 a.m. and getting rides from strangers? Crack cocaine is a fucked up drug.

It was a short drive to her home and I dropped her off. It had just started to rain heavily again. The Lady had found me just at the right time. I drove on home in the rain and then poured me a huge glass of cold milk. Damn, it tasted so good. I then climbed into the bed and fell back to sleep.

A Morning with Ferret

I spent a long time down at Ferret’s campsite this morning. He is doing well these days although he was drinking beer at such an ungodly hour. I don’t see how these guys can drink so early in the morning. The thought just makes my stomach turn.

Ferret then asked me to go get us some breakfast. I walked the short distance over the train tracks to Sarah Jay’s eatery and got us two breakfast plates. They contained scrambled eggs, grits, bacon, and a very large biscuit. We sat eating as we talked. Ferret paid me back the money for buying these and it was much appreciated as I am running low on money these days. I wonder where Ferret is getting money these days.

I finally bid Ferret farewell and stopped by the local train depot to watch a train pass. I then made my way up to the grocery store. Big S immediately started to beg me for a cigarette.

“Fuck off, you moocher!” I said tersely.

“You ain’t gotta be all like that,” Big S said.

I apologized and asked Big S to leave me alone about the cigarettes. He agreed and apologized as well. I actually felt sorry for the bastard.

I was hoping to catch George to catch up on what he has been doing. I tried to call him on his cell phone, but couldn’t reach him. I then rode my bike on home to write this. I am feeling very sad and languid today. I needed George to cheer me up. He always makes me laugh.

A Long Talk with George

I had a long talk with George this morning. He urged me to stay in my home until and if they evict me. I have decided to stay put for the time being. I will just wait and see what happens. I have very strong urgings to set out on my own though.

I did sleep in my tent last night. It was a wonderful experience. I slept so well and fitfully. I awoke at my usual 4 a.m. and sat at the threshold of my tent door. Thousands of stars greeted me as I smoked a cigarette and took in the view. In the far off distance my much anticipated whip-o-will called. It is such a lonely and wistful sound. I then curled up on top of my sleeping bag and finished the book I was reading with my flashlight until dawn arrived.

The sun began to rise and I boiled some water and cooked some oatmeal. I then packed up my tent and other belongings into my car and headed home. I was glad to see Sherman this morning as I needed a friend to talk to. He assured me that my father would have to go through quite an effort to oust me from this house. We will just play the wait and see game for the time being. Come what may, I will survive no matter what though.

The Daring One Returns

The scuttlebutt down at the grocery store this morning was that HIV/AIDs Guy is back on the scene after a lengthy incarceration. I always find it uniquely comical in how this one guy can send all the other groupies fleeing for cover. He is like a pretense to the police showing up. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the good pleasure of seeing him today (sarcasm). That guy is a low life.

Sherman did something very uncharacteristic of himself this morning. He already owes me twenty dollars. He always pays me back before asking for more. This morning he asked to borrow twenty more! I am broke and couldn’t give it to him.

“You gotta slow down man,” I told him regarding his drinking. “You stay fucked up all the time these days.”

“I be havin’ issues,” Sherman said as he took another drink of cheap wine.

“What kind of issues do you have?” I asked incredulously. “You get to do what you want when you want to. You can drink when you want. You mother pays the bills and doesn’t give you shit. Hell, I am the one with issues!”

“Yo dad given’ yo ass shit again?” Sherman asked.

“Don’t get me started,” I replied. “The son of bitch told me he is no longer going to let me have my social security money cause he caught me drinking the other day.”

“How in da fuck old are you again?” Sherman asked.

“Thirty four fucking years old!” I exclaimed.

“Dat be da shit, man,” Sherman replied. “Dat do be da shit. What are ya gonna do?”

“I am going to live in my tent and get him off as my representative payee,” I boasted. “That son of bitch isn’t going to run my life.”

“I hear ya brotha,” Sherman said. “But don’t go be livin’ homeless again. Get yo ass a place to stay.”

“I WANT to live in my tent!” I exclaimed. “I WANT to be free again! I don’t want to be a slave to a home!”

“Man, you and you crazy white-ass survivalist mother fuckers,” Sherman said with a laugh. “Next you gonna be eatin’ rabbits yo ass caught.”

I laughed heartily at Sherman’s last statement.

“Hand me that bottle, man,” I said to Sherman.

Sherman handed me the bottle and I took a hefty drink of Wild Irish Rose. I cringed as that coarse drink slid down my throat and burned.

“God, I don’t see how you drink this shit,” I said still cringing.

Sherman laughed and grabbed the bottle back from to take another drink as well.

“Can I come see yo ass at your homeless compound?” Sherman asked.

“As long as you bring the beer,” I replied with a grin.

“I hear ya brother,” Sherman said. “Ole Sherman will look out for ya.”

I patted Sherman on the shoulder and then climbed out of the car to head home. I had just gotten out of the parking lot around the corner when the effects of that stiff drink of cheap wine hit me. Damn, I was feeling good and had a smile on my face as I walked on up the road to home. My belly was full of Dutch courage and I had to fight the urge to go over and give my father my two cents on his recent attempts to control my life.

Rendezvous with Sherman

I saw Sherman this morning for a very short time. He came over early this morning wanting to know if he could borrow twenty dollars for gas. I gave it to him as he always pays me back. He needed the money to fuel his car for his fly-by-night taxi service. Without gas, he couldn’t make any extra money today.

I was cooking breakfast when he showed up. I had made a pan of homemade biscuits and fried some sausage. Sherman sat with me at the kitchen table eating sausage biscuits w/mustard as we talked.

“You been down to see Ferret lately,” He asked me. “No one has seen him.”

“No,” I said. “I have been too preoccupied with other things. I will try and get down there today though.”

“Big S said he be done gotten arrested for public drunkenness,” Sherman replied.

“Big S is not a good source of information,” I told Sherman. “Remember when he and Ferret were spreading the rumor that I was gay?”

Sherman laughed.

“If yo ass don’t be getting’ laid soon I is gonna think yo ass is gay as well,” Sherman replied with a grin. “We gotta get yo ass some pussy.”

I laughed as well. Sherman means well.

Sherman then said he must get to work and start earning some money. I put two more sausage biscuits into a zip-lock bag and gave them to him for the road. Sherman gave me some cigars in exchange. I watched as good ole Sherman pulled out of the driveway and headed out to do what Sherman does everyday as I had my morning cigarette and coffee outside on the porch. Here’s to hoping he will pay me that twenty dollars back quickly as it is nearing the end of the month and I am growing broke.

The Dog that went Bark in the Night

I pitched my tent in the backyard and tried to sleep in it last night. Rosie fucking barked all night long at various animals coming through the yard.

“Rosie, get your ass in this tent and go to sleep!” I would holler as I stuck my head out of the tent occasionally.

My presence would just nag her on and cause her to bark more furiously. Finally, I gave up on sleeping outside last night and came in around 2 a.m. in the morning and crawled into my bed. Rosie followed me in and immediately crawled into her chair and went to sleep. *sigh*

I didn’t have to work this morning. Hallelujah! I am unsure how long I am going to be able to keep this job. They are putting a lot of pressure on me to work many more hours. It has been a tug of war and a battle of the wills. I don’t want to work more hours than I already am. I told my supervisor if he didn’t stop pressuring me last week that I was going to find another job. He said he was going to have to find someone who could work more as they need the extra help. I told him fine.

Saturday Morning Wanderings

I spent another morning with Dumpster Diving Dan feeding the seagulls. I need to get some pictures of this uploaded to the blog if I can just ever remember to take my camera down there with me. I would say there were a good fifty to sixty birds out there today. Dan always feeds them in the same place at the same time so they know when and where to come. Austere asked about seagulls by the river. I live a day’s drive from the Gulf of Mexico. The seagulls follow the river up from the Gulf in search of food. Thanks for the comments Austere!

“How long have you been dumpster diving?” I asked him as we both stood there and threw out stale bread to the gulls.

“Oh, for a long time now,” He replied. “It has been years.”

“What is the best dumpster?” I then asked.

Dan donned a Cheshire cat grin. “That would be giving up my secrets.”

“Don’t use the dumpsters behind the Kroger though,” He said. “They will call the police.”

I then peddled on over across the river to the grocery store. Big S was sitting out front as usual accompanied by Droopy. They were having an animated discussion about this year’s college football prospects.

“Seen Sherman?” I asked them interrupting.

“He be by here earlier,” Big S said. “He said he needed to talk to you.”

I walked on down to the pay phone to call Sherman on his new cell phone. The phone rang a few times and then Sherman answered.

“Hey man, what’s up?” I said. “Big S said you were looking for me.”

“Where you be at?” Sherman asked.

“Over by the grocery store,” I replied.

“I’ll be over there in a minute,” He said.

“Hey man, what did you need?” I asked trying to get him to the point.

“We be playin’ poker at Pookie’s house tonight,” He said. “You want to come?”

“You know I don’t do the Pookie Poker thing,” I replied.

“I be buyin’ da beer,” Sherman said almost pleading with me.

“Sorry man, you know I don’t trust that bitch,” I replied. “There are some shady people hanging out over there.”

“Why yo ass gotta be dissin my woman?” Sherman said with a laugh.

“You know how I feel about that group of people,” I said. “Come by the house after the poker game and we will drink a few.”

“Alright, my brotha, alright,” Sherman said and then hung up the phone.

It will be interesting to see what state of inebriation Sherman will be in when he comes over this evening. I just hope he doesn’t show up on my doorstep three sheets to the wind at 2 a.m. in the morning like he has been known to do. I really need to reconsider the people in my social group. I do find Sherman and the gang to be so interesting and vibrant though, even if they are a bunch of misfits.

Flock of Seagulls

I went down by the river this morning and helped Dumpster Diving Dan feed his seagulls. It was a sight to behold. Hundreds of seagulls flocked around us. The noise they created was almost deafening. I keep wondering how long the local authorities are going to let this continue to happen. The number of seagulls continues to grow everyday.

I grow to admire Dan more everyday. He is such a good fellow and almost like a grandfather to me. I never knew either of my grandfathers. I told him to come by work on Monday and I would give him some potatoes and onions that will most likely be thrown out. He got very excited over the offer and thanked me profusely. I told him thanks for being such a good friend. He is almost like a mentor for me.

I then peddled across the river on my bike back to where I work. I was hoping to see Sherman and I did. I bought us both some beer and we sat in his car drinking them. Sherman had some prescription pills he was trying to sell me. I think they were Lortabs. Those things upset my stomach so I had to pass on them. Sherman said that Shifty would most likely buy them, but he wanted to give me first dibs. I then peddled the short distance home and sat down to write this. Hopefully, I will have more to write about this weekend. I am too lazy this morning to write out the dialogue of I and Sherman’s conversation. This will have to suffice for today.

The Bastard that Be

I made my way down to Weasel’s campsite yesterday. He was drunk, belligerent, and obstinate. It seems his homelessness is taking a toll. I can’t blame him. My tour of homelessness was a drunken volley as well. I just wish there was something I could do to help him. Such an experience tends to put men on common ground. I left him hurling racial slurs my way and peddled on up to the grocery store. I sat for the longest time talking to Slop about much ado about nothing; such banal conversation.

I know this may sound odd, but I yearn to be homeless again. I am under a severe amount of social pressure from my family. I wish I could cast that all aside and go back to the anonymity and carelessness that living homeless affords. My socially affluent family would ostracize me once again and leave me alone. I get so tired of their putting on airs. It seems I must constantly jump hoops to be in their social good graces. I just want to be a drunken homeless bum.

Am I setting my sights too low? I don’t know anymore. I just want peace of mind for once in my godforsaken life. I know these writings must seem dire and fatalistic. I assure you that they are not. I just feel better talking about it and sharing it with others.

Thy Spirits have been Lifted

Ferret was in far better spirits today. You could almost say he was jovial. He had forgotten the racially charged drunken tirade of yesterday. We had a long talk about our respective homeless experiences over beer.

“How did a white boy from a middle class family become homeless?” He asked me.

“It’s a long story,” I replied not really wanting to go into the details of my failed and disastrous marriage.

“I was a drunk and still am,” I finally said tersely.

“You lived in the woods?” He then asked.

“For six months,” I replied. “I had plenty of camping gear.”

“Most mother fuckers don’t know what its like, you know?” He said.

“Yeah, I know,” I said as I took another drink from my beer and pondered over thoughts of my homeless days.

“I am probably going to be living in my car this summer,” I said. “I just can’t take all the shit my family throws at me. I sometimes think I was swapped at birth or something.”

“Yeah, my mother is a drunk bitch as well,” Ferret replied.

I picked up a rock and chucked it into the river. The resulting ripples quickly faded in the swirling water.

“Would you have thought you would be homeless at this point in your life?” I asked.

“Man, don’t get me started,” Ferret said “By now, I would be hooked up in a sweet and easy job with a wife and three kids on the way. Life’s somethin’ else, ain’t it? I sure wouldn’t be sitting out here in these woods drinking beer and sleeping in a goddamned tent.”

“You can look at it in a good way though,” I replied.

“What do you mean?” Ferret asked inquisitively.

“I look at most people’s lives and they are tedious and boring. They work everyday and are too tired to do anything else when they get home. Me and you have the freedom of time and most people don’t have that. We are far freer than the wage-slaves I see everyday. Try to look at it in a good way.” I replied.

“I ain’t never thought about it that way,” Ferret said as he laughed.

“Don’t say I said that though,” I replied with a smirk.

“Why?” He asked.

“Well, you start questioning the basics of everything we are taught to believe and adhere to and people get almost outraged,” I replied. “They can’t see that life could be different from what they are living. I look at my homeless days as a point of personal enlightenment. People feel threatened by that. You are expected to work dutifully, raise a family and other such bullshit.”

Ferret offered me a few more beers, but I had to pass on them. I have an appointment this afternoon and need to be sober for it. I told him I would head back down to the river this evening and the beer would be on me. I feel a good drunk coming on. These tend to tie in with my reflective moments and boy have I been reflective the past few days.

Cold Mornings Ahead

I was just looking at the National Weather Service’s forecasts. There are going to be some very cold mornings ahead; untypically cold for this time of the year. My thoughts go out to Ferret who is braving this weather in a small tent down by the river.

I, too, will soldier on in my sleeping outside experiment save good weather. I have the good fortune of a down filled winter weight sleeping bag. It will probably be too hot for the next few nights for that bag so I will fall back on my summer weight bag. It will certainly be interesting to see how I fare.

I did awake this morning at “The Magical Hour.” I wish I could more accurately describe the magical hour in words. It is as if the world comes alive for another day. It is hard to sleep longer for the calls of jays, mocking birds and cardinals. Their crass, but glorious calls will keep you awake. I sauntered on up into the house and got dressed for work after my morning coffee and a shower. One of these days, I am just going to disappear into the woods and emerge some forty years later to tell my tales. What grand stories I would have by then. Good day.

Thy Sleeping Bag for a Beer?

I took Ferret the sleeping bag yesterday afternoon. Shifty was hanging out with Ferret. I was trying to figure out what Shifty wanted from a homeless man. Shifty is a crackhead of the highest order and only hangs out with people he can get something from. He is a total user. I have seen him with more and more frequency as of late. I would hate for him to become a regular part of the gang.

“Did you get cold last night?” I asked Ferret handing him the sleeping bag.

“Shit man,” He said. “It was so cold I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up all night drinking beer.”

Ferret offered me some beers for the sleeping bag. I declined.

“You used to drink all the time,” He said.

“It fucks with my crazy meds,” I replied.

Ferret laughed.

“Shit, you ain’t crazy. Now that motherfucker is crazy,” He said pointing at Shifty.

“Watch his ass,” I said quietly to Ferret where Shifty couldn’t hear.

“Oh, he be leavin’ as soon as the beer is gone,” Ferret said with a grin.

Shifty didn’t like us talking about him. You could tell he disapproved of what we were doing.

“That sleeping bag should keep you warm down to forty degrees,” I said.

Ferret shook my hand and once again offered me some beer. I declined and then got back on my bike headed towards home. I ran into Droopy over by the bank. Droopy is perpetually walking somewhere and just never seems to arrive at his destination. I wish you all could see Droopy. He is the oddest looking black fellow. His face looks as if it were wax and started to melt and slide off his face; thus the name Droopy.

“Sherman be lookin’ for you!” Droopy hollered out as I rode past.

I smiled. It sure would have been good to see ole Sherman. I wondered what kind of antics he was up to. I rode on up to the grocery store, but Sherman was no where to be seen. I certainly didn’t want to hang around long enough as they might try to put me to work. I peddled on home.

________________________

We had a very dangerous line of thunderstorms pass overhead last night after dusk. It even started to hail at one point. All I could think of was Ferret down in that cheap Wal-Mart tent by the river. I do hope he stayed high and dry.

It was still raining this morning when I got up. I cheated and slept inside last night. I don’t know what I am going to do with my day today. I feel terribly listless and malcontent. It is an aggravating feeling.

After the Storm

Boy, did we have a humdinger of a storm this afternoon. My electricity flashed on and off several times. One time, lightning struck so close to my house that the crack of thunder was immediate and so loud my ears began to ring. I reclined in my lazy boy, lighting my pipe, and listened to nature’s maelstrom outside my windows. Such storms always make me want to get drunk for some reason. The urge to go buy a case of beer during the downpour was almost overbearing, but I resisted. I have been dutifully following my doctor’s orders these days and have stayed abstinent.

Tonight, I am having a quiet evening in. It is far too late to be drinking coffee, but I needed the comfort it brings me. At least I don’t have to work tomorrow and can sleep in. I fear a late night tonight and just needed to get my thoughts down in words.

The rain is softly failing outside my windows and it is a most comforting sound. I also have a few Ray Charles MP3s playing in the background. That soulful sound is music to my ears. It is times such as these I wish I had a kindred spirit to share in such moments; a companion who could also relish these simple moments in life. My only company these days is an elderly dog who sleeps 24 hours a day. I have never seen a dog sleep so much. I guess she has lived a tough outdoor life and is enjoying being a house dog these days. She would normally have to weather a storm such as today outside.

Well, let me go fix another pot of coffee. I also feel the urge to smoke another pipe on my porch. That rained cooled after-storm air will feel so good upon my skin. I do believe nature is still putting on a night show of lightning off on the far distant horizon as well. Let me go have a look and see. Good night.

Transitions

I am coming to the realization of the amount of change and mental conditioning I must overcome to enjoy my newly aspired to lifestyle. I am finding myself more and more isolated these days and am having to rely upon myself more for things I used to look outwardly for.

One of the things I have struggled with the past few days during my solitude is the need to keep busy or to constantly occupy my mind. It is hard to just sit still, be quiet, and observe nature. I feel I must constantly have some kind of noise (like a radio) or a task going on (like a video game or book).

Case in point: this afternoon was a wonderfully stormy afternoon with heavy rain. I unplugged everything and turned it off due to the very dangerous lightning we were experiencing. I found myself in my quiet den with nothing other to do than just sit still and listen in the waning light of the afternoon. I kept wanting to reach for a book; anything to not have to deal with my thoughts and the silence. I will have to work on this.

I also spent a long time this morning looking for books or field guides on wild edible plants of the southeast. It was a frustrating search through countless and myriad “survivalist” advertisements and commercial web pages touting expensive books. Maybe my best bet is to hit the library at a local university. What should be common knowledge passed down by each generation has been lost and you now have to pay a premium to learn via special survival schools and survival gurus.