Arrogance, and the Obnoxious Fad that Passes for...

...wait for it...

...wait for it...

...you know where I'm going, right...

Religion.

Yep. I'm headed down a track that is sure to offend some of you, and start a whole new debate. I again have found myself in that position of having to defend my spirituality from someone who is not ready to admit that there's any "god" but their own.

I had a long, and interesting talk yesterday with not one, but two people. I will not use their names, because that's not necessary. But I received two points of view, and have reached my own conclusion about myself.

The first is a fellow who remembered me from several years ago. I'd come to write a piece about his workplace. A decent man, and I feel a good one, really I do. Hadn't seen him in a while, and he's back in town.

He wears his mask well.

The conversation turned to religion. I'll make no bones about what I think of Organized Religion. I defend to death your right to be what you will be, and are. But I draw the line when you use that "faith" to attack others.

I am sure he didn't mean it as such, but I was under attack.

When a person listens, but does not hear, and continually turns and twists words back through his own prism of belief, a tenuous one at best, and continues to attack you, what is that?

It is not the "faith" that a follower of Jesus should do, IMHO. Jesus (whom I now believe was not a real person, but a fabrication) did not walk about the world tub-thumping...but as Gandhi said in paraphrasing, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ."

I recall my Congregational upbringing, until I was 12. I remember sermons and a church led by two of the finest, kindest men I knew then, and find hard to match. Reverend Hazen, and the man who later replaced him, Reverend Fuqua. Two men who treated every single person with kindness, respect and decency. 

They did NOT attack with religion, they did NOT try to convert you, they did NOT make you feel inferior and try to make you one of them.

What the fuck happened?

Televangelism, electronic media, and a radical savagery of the faith, and it crosses all boundaries.

The discussion with this fellow reminded me of when I was 15. I was under attack by a teacher, and her fellow born-again haters. A hateful, thinly-veiled cynicism and disgust for all that were not like them.

You may be a Christian, but you are not Christian enough. Ever.

I recall feeling bullied, and attacked, and questioned. I wasn't already good enough as a human being for my own family, let alone this!

I am going to tell you what I am. I am Buddhist. I meditate to Kirtan, and I am a Pagan. Our people were here before Christ's creation as a character, and our people's ways were co-opted, borrowed and stolen.

And they have the nerve to try and wipe us off the map.

They have the nerve to massacre 18 million people in Central America, and wipe out the entire native population of Cuba, in the name of "God" of course.

I do not discount the massacre of a million Armenian Christians in the First World War. I do not discount the massacres during the wars in Bosnia. Nor the 13 million Hitler did to death...not just the Jews, but Cossacks, Krimchaks, Russians of all stripes, and those caught up in the occupied territories. Two million or more murdered during the regime of Pol Pot.

Not to say how many Stalin eliminated. Or Mao Tse-Tung wiped out.

And we see what the "Islamic State" is now doing in the Middle East.

What the fuck happened?

What happened to the Good Samaritan I learned of? What happened to the people who showed respect and kindness to others, regardless of what they looked like or where they came from?

When did faith get caught up in patriotism? 

This much I have learned: we cannot change other's minds. We cannot turn others who cling to views that they are fearful of losing. This fellow clearly had his prism, and all thing must pass through it.

I don't think, again, he meant harm. But he would not listen. To him, I am a terrible person, a lost soul, a creature destined for Hell (which does not exist).

And his own self-flagellation is bizarre. A sinner who will never be forgiven, no matter what. A life of existential suffering, and yet...oh yes, he'll be in the Good Land or whatever it's called.

But to suffer that whole way?

Suffering exists. But we do not have to die for it. We can make things better.

I am who I am. I am not perfect, as I'm human. I have tried, believe me I have tried not to hate. I don't believe in it. Hate is too strong, and hate kills.

I don't know of anyone who hates me. I don't know of anyone who despises me. I'm sure some don't like me, but that's fine. 

I do not profess to know great truths. "Jesus he knows me, and He knows I'm right...been talking to Jesus all my life." Genesis, the band...heehee.

No. 

I call bullshit.

I am Me.

I can trust myself to make the right choices.

I can trust myself to be as mindful as I can.

I take responsibility for this, and all things.

I do not agree with a lot of things, and I don't like a lot of things. I stand against a lot of things, especially the mad cults of Organized Religion. If you go there, it is your business and your decision. I do not say you're bad because of it. I hope it is right for you.

THIS is right for me.

There is One Race. The Human Race. We're it, folks.

Let's stop the hating. Let's stop killing. Let's stop feeling so fucking threatened by every little thing.

I'm gonna do my best. Here's hoping you can too.

We don't need to obsess or talk about IT all the time. To do that leads to the tunnel that you will never escape from.

This is a good world, but we each have to make it good. Stop looking for shit to stir. We can make this thing work, folks.

In my writing, I write what I want to see, not what others tell you you are supposed to see. Does that make sense? I hope so.

NOW...that all said, let me tell you about the second person.

Without going to deeply into it, this individual talked to me in an interview about her life, her career, her family, and what she loves doing. We are artists in our own way, and our own right.

This person, younger than me, showed incredible poise, maturity and sense of place. It has nothing to do with religion, and posing, and hiding behind something.

She was There.

Doing what she loved, and knowing the fulfillment to herself, and to others. Not about money. Not about fame. Not about anything but doing what is right for HER.

In her, I see how the madness can end.

I was reminded of why I write, and why I do the things I do. It is right for me.

Be right for you, and don't let others browbeat you, attack you, piss on you. You cannot change them, and you do not need to change for anyone.

Be YOU.

YOU is what is right for you. Change when you need to, and accept the inevitability that it does happen.

I change when I will, not when others dictate it to me.

I go where I will, not when others tell me to.

"An' it harm none, do what ye will."

My sense of place has been restored. I don't know if any of this makes sense, and I'm sure some of you will be stunned by this. 

I hate no one. I have malice toward none. I don't blindly love everyone, but I really hope that as we go on, we can be what we will be, but try and respect the differences.

And the similarities. 

We are all one...we're all we've got, folks.

Peace, Out.

2011--Where the Fuck Have I Been?!?

Well, it has been a while since I have blogged.  Since there hasn't been time, you should not be surprised at all that.


I don't really want this to be a Year in Review, but there's a lot to think about for certain.  I think it's going to be a jumbled mass of thoughts and ideas.


How much has gone on...how much has not as well.  I remember saying at the beginning of the year it would be my year; in some ways it has and in others not so much.


Hardly complaining, though.  Let's see if I can figure out the important factors of 2011 before we enter the dreaded 2012.


(Before we go further, I will let you know right now:  I DO NOT BELIEVE THE WORLD WILL COME TO AN END IN 2012, AT ALL!)  Okay, with that out of the way:


The working world remains elusive to me, in terms of full employment and the new brass ring, which is health insurance.  I'll talk about that in a minute.


I got a great opportunity at WITF; the chance to host NPR shows.  I have received some very nice reviews from friends and strangers who have heard me hosting "Morning Edition" and "All Things Considered."  I'm most grateful for compliments and criticisms, and there have been a few.


My reputation of sounding like I know what I'm doing is being put over well, hahahahah!  I also have garnered a reputation for playing some interesting "bumper" music.  If you listen to NPR, you hear strange bits of music they use between segments.  


When you hear me talk, you hear MY music.  It's different stuff, instrumentals and such.  It just comes from my CD collection, most of it is stuff most people would never hear, and it gave me the chance to play Ronnie Earl and the Broadcasters a lot for you!


Also got to play a bunch of Neal Schon, Dave Huttlinger, Santana and Frank Zappa.  Yes, to that last one...heh.  It's become what I do, I guess.


But anyway, the chance to do the NPR thing was one of those jobs that I never thought I had the skill or the "in" to get to do.  My sports job for Radio PA on the other side of the cubicle row, plus a few words of encouragement (thank you Rob Wilber) set me up for it.


So that plus sports jobbing at Clear Channel give me work, but not enough to live on.  I'm not dying, but it's a matter of hanging in there, and still trying to find work that'll cover the bills.


Insurance is now a needful thing; what I buy doesn't count for much.  I will be getting hit with bills for most of my colonoscopy this time.


For those who don't know, I suffer from Ulcerative Colitis, and have since 1994.  I am not sick from it anymore, it's in hand, but I have to get screened every two years because of the possibilities of colon cancer.


This last screening found something that if left there, might have become cancer.  It's gone, so it's all good, but it's not something I take lightly.  Both of my parents died from cancer, and there were probably others on the family tree that dropped from it.


My other health problems have finally been again raising their ugly heads.  The past two months, I was unaware of how badly I was losing the plot.  My depression has been under good control for a long time...but then the anxiety started kicking in.


Ever get that feeling of being overwhelmed, silently?  You have so much going on, and your brain just shuts off.  So you don't remember anything.  Or you have a tunnel vision where there is nothing going on but that one thing in your own universe.


Well, I have had my Zoloft dose doubled; I feel a lot more calm.  A bit better focused, but I worry that it may take away my energy.  It will take a while to get used to it.


Now...as of today, it is my six-month anniversary of joining a health club and quitting smoking.  For the latter, I still bum one now and then from friends, but I have been surprisingly free of it.  I have been swimming primarily, doing some cardio work, the sauna and other things.


I feel better than I have in 20 years.  I've lost fat, put on some muscle, and I've dropped about 12-15 pounds.  I really do feel great.  Of late, I've not been able to do as much in the pool as I have for a while; either the dreaded plateau, or my body is still adjusting to extra Zoloft.


Then there's my personal life:  my meeting Alice has been a huge blessing.  It is true, we have been on and off the past several months.  We are not "an item," at least not any longer.  But we are good friends, and that has been a huge help.


Alice is more intuitive than even those people who claim they are; she has her own issues going, but she's been able to tap into things with me, and push me in directions I've needed to go.  It may just be she is the first person in years to either have the smarts or the balls to tell me what I needed to hear.


Always nice; I am indebted to her.


Now, that leads me to associations.  I left Moonsong Coven earlier this year; a decision I put off for some time.  The last cable has been cut, and while I miss them, I left in good standing and the proper way.  No regrets; all good.


My spiritual side has been reading Krishna Das' Chants of a Lifetime:  Searching for a Heart of Gold.  Great story of searching and striving; it always goes on.


It's helped bring me back to the chanting that has helped inspire me and keep my head together.  I remain Buddhist, Wiccan, this/that/other; I too keep searching and trying to stay mindful.  Not easy, but you keep doing it.


I have not seen much of the old gang, and I do miss them.  I think however I have had to move on, and let a lot of things go the way they've meant to.  I don't know what any of it means; it is possible that work or real life will move me out of Pennsylvania, but I don't know yet.  


It does not have to; but I need to see what comes next.


Writing:  my agent is still pushing the Sweet Dreams Series, but I wonder now if there's more we must do.  Need to stay on the collaborators, because I think some visual stuff will be a need.


I finished a 600-page draft for Silk Road Days earlier this year, and I've edited it some.  More there I need to do, but it has something special.


Parasite Girls I think also has potential in the adult mainstream fiction market.  I need to consider the projects and what to do next.


Music:  Dan and I still get together to write and play, but nearly everyone else has been busy beyond belief.  What is next there?  I really don't know; not quitting, but wondering.


So it has been one hell of a year; I'm still running through it all and trying to figure out where it all leads.  But that's how it is; you can't just say this, that or the other will happen.  You have to make it happen, and I need to refocus.


Same as always.  Life goes on.  Hope your '11 was good, and we can do what we need to make '12 even better.

Take Another Road, Chapter 25--"Rescue"

It's time for Chapter 25 of "Take Another Road."  This is the next to last chapter, we're getting down to the end of it.  Enjoy!


###

Chapter 25-Rescue

            The Kudo rose above the wave, hung as if suspended, then slammed down to meet the next one.  The running lights, as well as those on the masts and rigging were lit, but they did little to illuminate the darkness beyond the rail.  Sails lowered, Kaldera guided her by engine power only, and they were at least making some headway.

            He stood, his shirt off and fully exposed to the lashing rain and wind.  Aimi was below, preparing the space for those that would be brought aboard.  At the bow, in foul weather gear were Kaz and Daisuke; both had attached themselves to the rail with safety lines to keep from being blown overboard.

            Kaldera had been confronted when he announced he was going, and he‘d resisted their joining him.  “I can’t ask you to do that,” he said as he went across the room and began to pull heavy clothing from the closet.  “This will be dangerous enough, but I have to go.”

            “We’re not letting you go alone!”  Aimi cut in front of him.  “Those are our friends, too,” she added with anger that had never been seen from her.

            Aimi didn’t give him time to think about it, either.  “Kaldera, you’ve always talked about us becoming a team, helping each other through things,” Aimi said.  “Now is our time to help you, and them!”

            “You can’t do a rescue alone,” Kaz put in.  “If Keru is hurt, you will need more than just yourself to get him aboard.”

            Kaldera knew from the expressions of those around him that he was not going to be allowed to leave on his own.  “All right,” he finally relented, “take what you need for clothes in here, and let’s get going.”

            “I’m going, too,” Daisuke said.  He was already removing his tie and suit jacket.  Saki volunteered to remain behind to monitor communications and pass them along, and Kaldera told her to keep on the Coast Guard about getting someone out to the location on the chart.

            An hour had passed since then.  Kaldera gripped the wheel in both hands, and leaned his chest into it as the Kudo took another heavy swell.  The radio down in the cabin was on, but there was no time to go to it, nor could he hear it anyway. 

            Wrapped in a yellow slicker, Aimi clambered from below and joined him at the helm.  “We’re set downstairs,” she shouted into his ear.  “Anything yet?”

            Kaldera shook his head.  “Go to the main mast,” he called back.  “Relay anything the guys say!”  Aimi attached a safety line around her waist, then carefully made her way forward, using every handhold she could find so as not to fall on the slippery deck. 

            Closing his eyes, Kaldera allowed himself to ground to the deck, then down into the sea.  He began to send himself down, past the bottom of the sea, into the Earth.  The energy is coming…there is only one way to get there, and bring my friends home…even if it costs me my life, I must do this.  These friends of mine, they are worth more to me than anything…I call on the spirits of the universe to help me, help me now…

            Mei stood at the window, and watched the storm.  It had gotten progressively worse--the rain continued to come in sheets, and the winds shrieked through the closed and latched door. 

            The storm was causing havoc across the region.  The radio was on scan mode, and she could hear nothing but reports of damage along the coast, interspersed with the radio traffic of the Japanese Coast Guard and Self-Defense Forces. 

            The incident involving the collision of that cruise vessel and the other ship had ended; the breach in the ocean liner’s hull turned out not to be as serious as first thought.  Temporary repairs had been made, and the evacuation was cancelled.  Still, tugs were bringing the liner into port, and a number of resources remained on the scene.  From what Mei could understand of the radio communications, units could not be diverted for smaller issues such as the Kiyomi.  

            Saki was in the kitchen, assisted by Midori.  A pot of coffee was brewing, and the latter was overseeing a huge steel pot of soup.  “They’ll need to be warmed up, and they’ll be hungry as well,” Saki commented.  She stacked a set of bowls, utensils and other plateware on the counter; Midori was silent, and her worried look prompted Saki to put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. 

            “Don’t worry,” she said quietly, “Kaldera knows what he’s doing; he would not have let them go with him if he didn’t believe he could bring them all back.  He will.”

            Midori nodded as she stirred the pot with a metal whisk.  “I know,” she replied.  “I’m more worried about Mei, if anything does happen.  After Kira died, she told me she became much closer to Aimi and Kaz.  She’s always feared losing them, too.”

            “I understand.  Go to her,” Saki told her, “I’ll look after this.”  As the girl went into the other room, Saki thought:  Kaldera has some kind of unearthly ability in him, I’ve seen it before.  But is it enough to take on Nature?  Or is it that Earth and Nature somehow become one within him?  I’ll never know…but doing this is the only way to keep our minds off the worst.

            Midori went to the window.  She slid her arms around Mei’s waist, and rested her head on the girl’s shoulder.  “It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered in Mei’s ear, and kissed her as she spoke.  “Like Kaz’s song, we have to believe--believe in Kaldera, and all of them.”

            Mei said nothing, but leaned her head against Midori’s and held to her.

            “Wreck sighted!  One point off the starboard bow!”

            Aimi turned and relayed the message from forward.  Kaldera could barely hear Aimi’s voice over the typhoon’s rage, but he had seen the movement of Daisuke’s body as he pointed.  In the distance, he could see the familiar shape of the Kiyomi. 

            The Bayliner was dead in the water, and listing badly.  She was facing as if to pass them starboard to starboard, but for her upturned side.  An emergency light was burning atop the Kiyomi, though it was down near the water, almost under it.  Leaning against the cabin windows on the higher side were figures; he counted four bright orange lifejackets.  Good, they’re all on deck.  That’ll be easier.

            Kaldera reduced speed and approached the boat.  The rain and wind were slackening, and he noticed that his “crew” was looking around in disbelief.  The storm had let up, and the waves had suddenly reduced to no more than a light chop.

            “Prepare for rescue!”  Kaldera shouted.  He watched as everyone returned to action; Aimi detached her line and ran forward to help Kaz and Daisuke.

            Dropping the throttle to dead slow, Kaldera eased the Kudo closer to the stricken boat.  He was bringing his vessel right alongside; despite the swells, there was only a slight difference in height from the deck of the Kudo to the Kiyomi’s rail.  Daisuke had grabbed a metal emergency ladder and was rigging it to the side, while Kaz had climbed over the rail to take the first to be rescued.

            Their friends were in a bad way; all were drenched to the bone, and clung to one another, as well as any fittings they could find on the boat.  Keru looked the worse for wear; his left arm was in a sling, and there was a bandage of some sort on his forehead.  “Take the women first,” he called, and Minoru edged alongside to help transfer Nanae.

            Kaz jumped down onto the deck of the Kiyomi; he’d seen that Nanae could barely move.  “Put her on me!”  He told Minoru.

            Despite the pitching of the boat and a very narrow space to work in, Minoru was able to lift Nanae onto Kaz’s back.  Taking only the most careful of small steps, Kaz made it to the ladder and struggled up.  Nanae was not heavy, but both boats were still bouncing in the waves.  Finally Kaz was able to grip the wet rungs and make his way up the side of the Kudo. 

            As he reached the deck, Daisuke pulled Nanae off him and carried her down the deck to the cabin.  Kaldera continued to manipulate the wheel, using the engine throttle to keep the Kudo close.  “Make it fast,” he yelled, “we don’t have a lot of time!”

            Kaz went back over the side again, this time for Asuka.  She was at least able to stay on her feet, but she too was exhausted by the ordeal.  She climbed onto Kaz’s back and the operation was repeated.  Once on deck, Aimi pulled Asuka’s arm over her shoulder and led her aft.

            Minoru had turned to Keru.  “Dad,” he said, “can you climb?  You’re gonna be too heavy for us.” 

            His father nodded, and with Minoru’s help he was able to make the ladder.  Despite the pitching of both vessels, Keru slowly and painfully made his way up, one rung at a time and into the arms of Daisuke and Kaz. 

            Minoru looked around one last time.  His feet were now awash in the water; the Kiyomi was going down.  Then for the first time, Minoru realized he’d lost his book.

            There was a sudden, brief pang of losing it, that gift his mother had given; but, Minoru understood that it was time for it to go.  I’m sorry, Mother; but I guess all things have to go in time.  He then climbed the ladder, and pulled himself aboard.

            Aimi had returned forward and put her arm around Minoru.  “We’re clear!”  She called.  Kaldera nodded, then reversed the engine; he slowly backed the Kudo away, then gunned it forward.  He made a wide, slow turn to port; if the winds returned, a sharp turn could be fatal and roll the boat over.

            Down below, the rescued were being taken care of, wrapped up in blankets.  Nearly unconscious, Nanae was placed in the lower bunk; spare pillows and life preservers held her in a comfortable position.  Keru sat at the end of the bench, braced so his injured arm was not jostled any more than necessary. 

            Asuka was at the other end, cushioned in a similar fashion.  Aimi sat beside her and held her as steadily as she could.  Minoru was on her other side; he seemed largely unaffected though wringing wet.  Daisuke made his way through the crowded cabin to the radio and picked up the cabin mic.  He gave the position of the Kiyomi, and added, “Rescue complete, scene is cleared.”

            At that moment, the entire deck pitched downward, and the storm began again, the uneasy quietude pierced by the scream of the winds and the rain that now pounded the deck anew.  Everyone grabbed for some sort of hold; Keru groaned from his injuries, but was able to hold himself in place. 

            “Must have been the eye,” Daisuke said, as he returned up the stairs for the deck, followed by Kaz. 

            Minoru then shed his blanket to join them; before doing so, he stopped before the girls.  He reached out, and caressed Asuka’s damp hair; Minoru then looked into Aimi’s eyes; even in the semi-darkness, Aimi could see the light in them.  He smiled at her, and silently climbed to the deck.

            In spite of the danger they were still in, Aimi smiled and held Asuka tighter.  The head moved; exhausted, her eyes half-closed, Asuka looked to her.  

            “Aimi,” she whispered, “tell me we’re going to make it.”

            “We will,” Aimi replied.  She leaned her body against Asuka and braced herself against the side of the cabin.  All the same, Aimi wondered if they would.  The storm had returned, and seemed even stronger than before.  That lull in the storm, right when we needed it to be calm, it became calm.  I wonder…did Kaldera have something to do with it?

            “Look out!”  A gust of wind had carried away part of the Kudo’s rigging, and all ducked as the lines crashed down.  One of the lights exploded on the deck in a cascade of sparks. 

            Kaldera rose again above the wheel, and held the Kudo on course.  Already they could see the lights of the harbor, though the grey haze and rain obscured any detail.  “I’ve got it,” he called, “easy as anything.”  He steered into the waves, then altered course to make for the slip; the look on his companion’s faces reflected relief.  Kaldera would bring them home, they seemed to think.

            If only they knew…other than the positions he’d plotted on his chart back home, plus his knowledge of the channel, Kaldera had been going on dead reckoning.

            Then there was the other problem, which was becoming more immediate.  While he physically remained upright at the wheel, inside he was falling apart.  Keep it together, Kaldera…we’re almost there.

            The voyage home felt like hours to those down below, any idea of time having vanished, with only the rocking of the boat through the endless waves as an indication.  Aimi thought she might have dozed off, but she still held Asuka in place.  For what felt like the hundredth time, she looked through the fogged windows of the cabin; all of a sudden, there was a light. 

            “We must be home,” she called, “I can see the city!”

            Asuka awakened, and Aimi left her to climb on deck.  It was still dark, but there was enough light from the remaining lamps on the Kudo, plus those along the shore to see.  The storm was clearing out, and Aimi could now see the sky, as the heavy cloud cover moved off to the northeast.  There was debris in the water, and the boat bumped against it as Kaldera slowly guided the Kudo back into that familiar channel.  The storm had been a quick one, but the damage was prodigious:  small boats were sunk at their moorings, and a trawler had run aground. 

            Kaldera made the turn, and they saw activity on his dock:  an ambulance was waiting, its lights flashing.  Saki had obviously heard the transmission about the rescue, and had called for Emergency Services.  The boat edged into its spot and groaned against the fenders; then Kaldera shut down the engine.

            Lines were tossed ashore, and a group of fishermen from the nearby yard had gathered to take them up and help secure the Kudo.  As this went on, Mei and Midori rushed down to the dock to help as well.  The gangway was tossed over, and the rescued were brought off.  Nanae was carried across by Daisuke, and she was immediately placed on a stretcher.  Keru walked under his own power, but he was unsteady and needed help getting into the ambulance. 

            Asuka climbed aboard as well, but Minoru begged off.  “I’m all right,” he told the ES crew, “and there isn’t any more room.”  Reluctant to leave him, the crew finally accepted Minoru’s refusal, and the ambulance turned around and slowly drove up the rise, its lights flashing and sirens blaring.

            Once the lines were tied and the hatches closed, Kaldera thanked the fishermen and released them.  As he walked slowly toward the house, he found himself in the rear of the line of his friends, all joyous at their reunion.  He smiled.  Good…

            There was a thud, and Aimi turned, the last in line before him.  “Kaldera!” 

            The others turned, and raced back down the steps to the pier.  Aimi was on her knees, holding Kaldera’s head in her hands.  He was stretched out on his back, his body still.

###

And there you have it; enjoy, and do leave your comments!

THIS IS ONLY A TEST...for now...

Well, following the exodus of the many from Myspace and other such social networking sites, I've decided to give this little place a go.  I am not exactly sure why I'm doing this, except to put things out there.  I don't honestly feel I need to do this to prove I'm still alive, or that my life has value by writing publicly for the universe to see, but then again, I've found it instructive.

At times, I've received good feedback, advice and occasionally a slap upside the head to return to practicality.  Not that I'm good at staying there.

For those of you who may have chanced across this page:  I'm a lot of things, as you'll find out.  I'm 45, and have lived a varied life, which I'll go back to from time to time.  I've been in the radio business 26 years (been there, done it), and still am; I've been an actor, a musician, a writer, and who knows what else.

My main goal now is working with my intrepid agent of the Sullivan-Maxx Literary Agency to get my first book, "Sweet Dreams:  Searching for Roy Buchanan" published.  It's the first of a series, it's fiction, drama, time travel, Japanese anime (in word form), and an examination of music.  TOP THAT, STEPHANIE MEYER!

I've battled depression my whole life; I will explain this from time to time.  It's not fun; anyone who has any similar afflication will be able to understand that.  I've had all kinds of "issues" in my past, but nothing that hasn't killed me, nor will it.

Spritiually, I'm different things...again, you'll find out.  Despite the assertions by certain individuals that I have a pathological hatred of religion, that is not so.  I have respect for all faiths, as far as I can understand them, and I defend your right to it, so long as you respect and defend mine.  I know, that might be hard, but it is what it is.

I am outspoken, and you will find that out.  Over the years, I've tried to be a bit more sympathetic without just abandoning my position on things...diplomacy or whatever.

Anyway, I hope I got this bloody thing set up right; me and computers, we don't get along.  I've send my poor Gateway desktop back to the Geek Squad more times than I care to recall, because standing or sitting in Best Buy is not my idea of fun.

Okay...let's see how this works...I shall send you more missives, observations, thoughts and maybe even a good idea or two.  That'd be kinda cool, wouldn't it?