Time for a Break

As many of you already know, I have had a pretty stressful time the past few weeks, for more reasons than I care to admit. So, not a minute too soon, I will be taking a few days to get some much needed R & R. Also, I plan to accomplish a few personal tasks that have gone undone. And, fingers crossed, I hope to go on a fall fishing trip at least one day. I do not care if I catch a fish, I just want to get the opportunity to try. Wish me luck.

I have come across some random stuff that is of interest to me. This was posted on a website that I visit each day...and I must say, it gave me a huge laff. http://crossetteagles.proboards43.com/index.cgi?board=Nest&action=display&thread=1127976096

I know, I know...sorry. I'm just too zombiefied to know how to make it into one little word to click.

Next, I found this while visiting dooce.com. http://www.venganza.org/
Apparently, the Kansas state school board is allowing the schools to include creationism in their repertoir. I am a person of faith, but I don't think our public schools are the place for religion to be taught. Whether you find the FSM theory funny or not, the author of the site does have a point. Plus, it's funny as hell to read.

Some food (no pun) for thought over the weekend....What do you think?

I will try log on occasionally and see what your impressions are. I suppose living in the Bible Belt will draw some interesting replies.

Peace.

Letter to Mitchell

Dear brother,

Today has dawned, and brought with it another milestone in the lives of the people that love and miss you. Mitch, I can't believe you have been gone so long! Sometimes, it seems like a thousand years; sometimes, it seems just yesterday that I last saw you.

I wonder what your life would have become. Would you have married and had kids? Would you have remained a Battle Skills trainer at Camp Robinson, or would you have eventually moved home? I often wonder what type of advice you would have given during one of my many dramas. You were my brother, my best friend...I could tell you anything, and you never judged me. Thank you so much for your acceptance, love and your crazy sense of humor.

Learning to live without you in my life has taught me many things, but I think the most poignant message of all is to live each day as if it were your last. This whole concept has been heard so many times until it almost seems cliche, but it is the universal message that speaks to all men about the limited amount of time we are given. Things do change in the blink of an eye, and then the moment is forever in the past...so I choose to live without regret or apology. I don't want to waste a second of my time, because a moment from now, it could be all be over.

I have no regrets regarding the time I spent with you, because we loved each other as best we could as siblings. You and I both recognized during my last visit with you, that these moments were special, magical...although we could never understand why. Now, it is all clear to me. That would be the last visit, last conversation, last hug I would ever receive from you. And you know what? It was more than I could have ever asked for.

I watched home videos for hours and hours last night, and had personal visits will all my family who have passed on. Some may think I'm crazy, but just the sound of those familiar voices comforts me. It's the only way I can visit you now, so I'm thankful for the ones who captured so much of our family history on film.

Even though you are not with me, the storehouse of memories you have left behind makes you come alive again. A familiar phrase, or picture helps me recall the happiness you brought to my life. I keep a little box that belonged to you. It used to sit on the chest of drawers just inside your and B's room, and you kept pocket change in it. Now, it contains mementos of the life you once lived...concert ticket stubs, the sunglasses you 'borrowed' from me at our last visit, a chain you wore in highschool, your last pack of cigarettes. Sitting beside my chair is a picture of you. You remain, forever, a part of my life because I choose to keep you alive.

But I still miss you, and the space you left behind will never be filled. My only hope is that I will accurately pass on your memory to others, and remember with a smile, the man that is my brother.

Classical Metal

I found a lost treasure today...disc two of my Metallica S & M cd set originally released in 1999. I'm listening to "Call of the Ktulu" and "No Leaf Clover" and all the familiar songs I've missed for so long. This music reminds me of when I realized my life was about to change. I was at home, hurriedly cooking supper, listening to MTV.

I heard Metallica and San Francisco Philharmonic Orchestra in the same sentence, and froze. Huh? I looked at the tv, and saw a huge concert hall, filled with rolling smoke that fell from the stage like the creeping mist after a rain. I saw lights pale, then blindingly bright dance across a platform...a rock concert, perhaps? Then I saw the sillouette of human forms, all alarmingly in perfectly curving rows, flanking the stage like attentive shadows.

The spotlights warmed and illuminated this eclectic mix of pomp and circumstance and the raucous ranks that comprise the group Metallica...Kirk Hammett, Lars Ulrich, the unapologetic James Hetfield, with Jason Newstead (who took the place of original drummer Cliff Burton who died in a freak bus accident in Europe). Michael Kamen manned the classically trained emsemble, who sat, poised, looking alarmingly uncertain. No wonder...the crowd was going insane! Metallica, whom had suffered much speculation under rumors of breakup, addiction and worse, had been unusually absent from the public. They, like many of us, had gone underground because of pure speculation. But, they returned to the masses refined, insightful and artfully inspired. It was amazing to watch and to hear.

There was an eclectic mix of music lovers present that night, as this was no ordinary night at the opera...die hard metallica fans sat side by side with normally aloof and classically trained observers from all walks of life. I sat mezmerized, all constraints forgotten, as they spoke to me through arrangement and verse. I remembered where I came from, I remembered who I was. You see, I was lost to myself at that time, and had lost touch with the very core of my being.

Then the first note was struck, and it was not the electrified hum of an amp, but breath over reeds, the stroke of the bow on strings. I was awestruck to hear the familiar tunes I had come to love brought to life on a sheet of music. The orchestra obeyed as Kamen instructed, and Metallica stepped into the welcoming glow of the spotlight and made their screaming debut. The meshing of this ancient art with the newly discovered vehicle of energized music blew me away, leaving me stunned and moved. After all, what pleases one's senses is just another method of delivering the primal offering that all humans crave...the mathmatical magic of rhythm.

I have come to love this mix of formal and irreverant music, and it comforts me in times that I feel lost. It reminds me that I am a combination of the two, forever mixed and tormented by my polar natures. For a moment, I am comforted in the rediscovery of my lost treasure.

Whether you like Metallica or not, this is definitely worth a listen. And if you are a fan, I suggest you check out www.cdnow.com and buy the dvd. Your eyes and ears will not believe it!

Simply put? It rocks.

The Day We Ran Away

Okay, okay. Time to lighten up and remember things that are good...happy memories always help me get past rough spots.

I had to post this photo of me my sister (l) and me (r). This was taken about six or seven years ago during one of our family's annual fall fishing trips...it just also happened that we were both having personal battles. Little did we know that it would be one of the last times we would all be together at Merrisach Park as a family.

We 'ran away' that day...after we both got off work, we literally flew from our hometown and cut a two hour trip almost in half...one hour and 15 minutes, to be exact. Our intention was to visit for the evening, then drive back home. But, when we got there and smelled the fresh air, the evening lingered...and the whites were biting, and we just could not tear ourselves away from our family, our fun, our escape.

We returned to camp with an ice chest literally crammed full of some the biggest whites I've ever caught. When we drove up, I could smell the coffee Momma had brewing, and the campfire was lit. Our grandparents, our parents and friends were all there...why would we leave????

So we didn't. We risked causing ourselves heartache, but we decided to stay where we were welcomed, appreciated, wanted and loved. We knew there would be hell to pay when we got home, but we didn't care. Reluctantly, we made the necessary calls, telling the ones at home that we wouldn't be home late, we would be home tomorrow. Instead of receiving words of encouragement, we got just what we expected...a ration of shit. After that, we defiantly discussed the possibilities of staying two nights instead of one.

Our impromptu visit turned into an all-nighter. We cleaned fish until very late, packed and iced them. Meanwhile, Momma and Papaw Walcie got the grease hot and fried fish and taters. We had a fabulous dinner that would rival any gourmet eaterie, plus we watched as the huge fiery-red sun sank into the west over Lake Merrisach.

Afterward, the chairs were gathered round the fire, and fresh coffee poured into every cup. Stories were told, and there was laughter all around. The night sounds mingled with the earth-shaking rumble of barges passing in the canal. The wind swept throught the campground, carrying with it the smell of nature, of water pure and sweet. Occasionally, a great horned owl would send his message into the night, causing my grandfather's eyes to brighten in recognition. A lone coyote called to it's pups across the lake, and they reciprocated with their yip-hips of reply. Long into the night, we sat...not wanting to let go of the magic. Finally, yawning and weary, we retired to our camps for some of the best sleep we would ever enjoy.

You just cannot put a price on that. And if we had relented, and gone home to our loveless dwellings, we would have missed it all.

If you have real love in any form in your life, hold on to it...And nurture it. Don't miss out on those invaluable opportunities to tell the ones that matter most to you how much they enrich your life. Because tomorrow, you may not get another chance.

Time is so limited, but the possibilities to live for the moment are limitless.

Peace.

Why I'm REALLY Pissed Off Now

Removed because I'm tired of being pissed! :)

Comments still welcomed, if you wish.

Why I'm So Pissed Off

I know to many of you this post may seem ridiculously trite in the wake of the tragedies our country is facing, but I'm so damn mad, for so many damn reasons, that I can't see straight. Maybe if I get it off my mind, I'll feel better...
- ignorance
- the price of one gallon of regular unleaded gasoline
- if one more person says something negative about our military, I'm goona punch them in the face
- people who refuse to be accountable for their action or inaction
- the rich, indeed, are getting richer, and the rest of us are scraping to get by
- honest, integrity, and morals are considered 'optional' equipment in humas these days
- immature men
- instead of being rewarded for hard work and a job well-done, all I get is more hard work.
- indeed, only the good die young
- the immense amount clutter in my car
- doing everthing for someone, and never hearing 'thanks'
- women are paid one half to one third less for doing the identical job of a man in that same position
- people who don't LISTEN
- everything is so fucking expensive
- being taken for granted
- selfish behavior, especially in people who ought to know better
- posers
- incurable diseases

A Family Divided

I need your help, blogworld.

This is Kenyante Brianca Brown. Her mother, Qu'zeena Mamon is an evacuee here in town, along with her four sons and her mother.

At the time the hurricane hit landfall, Kenyante was visiting with her father. Qu'zeena and her four boys fled the flood waters by climbing onto their roof until help arrived. They were rescued and came to Ashley county.

But they can't find little Kenyante. Hopefully, she was safely evacuated with her father, Kenneth John Brown.

Kenyante is four years old, and was last seen Saturday, August 27 with her father in New Orleans.

Please help us locate this little girl so she can be reunited with her family. I visited with her mom yesterday, and hugged her as she wept for her baby. Copy this picture and pass it on. If you get any information about her, post here on comments or visit www.qliteradio.com and send us an email. There are links to websites where family members are posting from around the country to let their loved ones know they are okay. We will have photos of little Kenyante there as well.

I will keep you updated on this family.

I will quote the Great Ruben...smile! Be thankful if your family is with you today, and make each day count.

Count Your Blessings

As you all may have noticed, I haven't been posting very often lately.

Well, okay...I admit, I have been delinquent.

But it is for a number of very good reasons:

Ashley county has been flooded (no pun) with hundreds of victims fleeing hurricane Katrina. Since I work a a radio station, that means we have been innundated with calls to pass on useful information. That, in addition to our ridiculously busy first football game broadcast week, has left me no time to EVEN log on and check my mail.

I serve on the Crossett Chamber board, the United Fund of Ashley County board, and the Kiwanis Club. Each one of these organizations have called no less that 4 gazillion emergency meetings to help the evacuees here in Crossett.

I have been humbled this week by the faces of the people displaced from their homes, possibly forever. Many of them don't have a home to return to. Countless more have family and friend who remain unaccounted for. They have nothing....NOTHING. They need jobs, homes, schools, healthcare. We have been helping them here in Crossett, but it's literally just a drop in the bucket of destruction left in the wake of Katrina.

If you want information, or if you want to help, log on to our website and click the evacuee link. There are other links to help you locate relatives, send help, or get a glimpse of what's really happening down in NO. It's a war zone, right here in our country. God help those still trapped down there. I won't be able to really enjoy my holiday weekend knowing there are little children and the elderly dying in NO. If you pray, please ask God to have mercy on our country. And when you take a hot bath, or drink water from the faucet, or sit in the cool of your home, be thankful.

www.qliteradio.com