sears

Hey Harkins, wake up. I want you to think about this:

In the 80s, when i was a boy, my grandmother would have me look through the Sear's catalog 'wish book' to pick out something for Christmas. Every year, I always had my eye on a certain rock polisher. Now in hindsight, I'm sure glad I never asked for it.

Update:

Willie got a Rock Polisher for her bday. We haven't used it yet. 

Nygen

40 percent of all Vietnamese people have the surname Nguyễn

Chainwsaw

I woke up and stared at the ceiling and then rolled over and stared at the dog hair all over the floor. It wasn't the first thought I had but probably the second:

"Is this really happening?"

The waterfall in my stomach started to flow again.

It was 8:30 am, I took a leak and stumbled sleepily into the living room to see my wife eating cereal and smiling at something on her phone. Both the golden retrievers were staring at her.

She didn't speak to me.

I walked into the dining room, and picked up a chainsaw laying on the floor next to the wall.  I pulled out a chair from the table and sat down and put the chainsaw in front of me.
I inspected it, looking at the chain, and model number and took the gas cap off and smelled the tank.

I went and got my phone charging by the bed, and yawned as a I sat back down and searched for the model number.

Google Search: echo chainsaw cs-310

I was interested in the gas to oil ratio for the 2 cycle engine. Also, I wanted to know what kind of oil the chain bar required.

First result was the manual for the machine, and I was surprised to see it was 30cc engine.

"bad little fucker", I thought.

I found the info I needed: 50:1 Ratio required for the gas/oil mix, and looked at the specs on the chain bar oil. 

I hurriedly got dressed, simply putting on pants and shoes without socks, and grabbed the chainsaw from the table as  I went outside. I unlocked the storage shed shaped like a gingerbread house and looked to see what ratio of premixed 2 cycle gas  I already had: 40:1

"At this point who gives a shit," I thought as poured the the wrong type of gas in the tank.

"It won't break it, might run like shit though." I said out loud.

It was 85 degrees at 8:45am that Sunday morning.

I looked at the the chainsaw before I tried to start it. It had a pawn shop tag on it, and I thought,

"There is no way this piece of shit is going to start."

My father is addicted to pawn shops. He keeps them in business. He buys junk, and the pawns it back to them at interest: it was his chainsaw.

I flipped the On button, primed the engine, and locked the chain. I pulled on the cord and it only turned over once, the cord did not seem long enough. I pulled 5 or 6 more times, and it didn't even begin to start. 

My wife let the dogs out of the house, and she only briefly looked in my direction. They went off in search of a ball but eventually just laid down near me.

I searched for the carburetor to spray starter fluid through the air filter in the hopes of it starting. It was not obvious on the device where the carburetor was even located. I looked at the manual again, found and unscrewed the filter plate, sprayed in the fluid and pulled on the cord. 

The cord broke off at the handle and I almost fell down.

Oscar, the bigger of the two dogs, looked at me, then looked at the chainsaw, and laid his head back down.

"Mother fucker," I thought.

I consider trying to buy the part at Home Depot, and then thought about all the research I would probably need to do to even install it. I was also certain it still would not start.

I looked at the sky and then the roof of my house. There was a rollercoaster in my stomach, up and down, I could not stop thinking about what she said to me the night before. The words, the screaming, the expressions -I played them over and over remembering something new each time. I stared at the chimney on my house and noticed the red bricks and weather flashing.

I got in my car and turned around to go out into the street; a couple was pushing a stroller down the sidewalk when they passed I gasped and quickly turned and headed in the direction of the Midtown Home Depot.

I bought a chainsaw, 2 Cycle premixed 50:1 ratio gas in a metal can, bar oil, 100 yards of rope, and then set in the parking lot staring out the windshield. The shock was preventing me from moving. I knew people go through much worse, but I felt this was the worst experience of my life.

I came home to the dogs, the baby, and my wife gone. Her car was there, so I knew she was walking the dogs with our 5 1/2 month old strapped to her back.

I tried to open the chainsaw box, but it had large metal staples holding down the flaps. I attempted to pry them apart with a screwdriver but just end stabbing the box and stomping my foot down on the cardboard. The manual, accessories, and red chain saw fall out on the ground. It was the cheapest gas model Home Depot sold.

I looked at the manual briefly, and noticed this chainsaw was 42CC.
"I've ridden scooters that were 49CC, damn these little things are powerful." I thought.

I slowly poured in the pre-mixed 2 cycle gas, and the bar chain oil - keeps the chain oiled while cutting, and literally just comes out on the chain as it moves through the unit.

There was a brief moment when I didn't feel the pain as I pumped the primer, extended the choke, and pulled on the cord. The low rumble and white smoke made me okay for a minute and I pushed in the choke.

"wher, wher, wher", I held down the accelerator, "whhheeeeeeeerrr," let off it, "wher, wher," hit it again, "wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," and let off, "wher, wher."

"Wow," I thought, it was loud.

My brain brought up child support and custody arrangements, and the scene of my daughter not wanting to spend time with me. I had an image of a small child refusing to stay with her estranged father, screaming and not wanting the mother to leave.  Not sure where I got that memory from, but it was nothing I ever experience in person. TV I'm sure.

I walked to the front yard, "wher, wher, wher", with the chainsaw in hand, I looked at my objective:

"wher, wher, wher, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"

In the prior weeks, before it happened, I had attempted to clear the side yard next to my house with a reciprocating saw. Just a small weekend project, and it was slow boring work. From the moment the Homelite 44CC chainsaw touched those bushes it was over. Butter gives more resistance, I completely went at it. There is a great deal of satisfaction in having the right tool for the job.

A city drainage ditch was behind the overgrowth, with a steep incline, and after cutting a path through to the ditch, I stood below and recklessly cut through the base of the vines and bushes letting them fall backward into the ditch. There were several decent size trees holding all the crap up; some up to 5 inches in diameter, and with a look of determination and ease I went at them like everything else.

While cutting I noticed a man on bicycle pull up on the sidewalk. I could tell he was about to speak to me, and something about having your nuts kicked in, makes a man a little more humble, so I turned off the chainsaw to hear him out. He slowly took out his earbuds and put down his kickstand. He had a plan.

"Hey sir, I saw you down there working, I have a lot of experience with cutting trees, cut all kind of trees," he said.

"I want to do it," I said with a blank look on my face.

"You going to cut all this down, all the way back to the fence?"

"Yes."

"Look man, pay me, and I'll do it for you."

"No, I need this."

"Man, you can get hurt cutting all those trees. You know that chainsaw can kickback?"

"No, I really need this," I said again.

"Man, I use to climb up in trees, big ole trees, whole crew of us would take down trees bigger than that oak," and he pointed to the huge water oak in my front yard. "We had ropes, and all kinds of saws. I do it for you real quick."

I looked at him blankly and said,

"My wife told me she doesn't love me and wants a divorce. Says she never loved me. She wrote it all out in a letter and handed it to me last night. Told me I could still see my 5 month old daughter every other weekend if I wanted. She would bring her right on over when I wanted to see her. She said she would have more kids, but it wouldn't be with me. That letter was 5 pages long, and she asked me to be nice to her about all this."

I paused and looked at the ditch, and then looked at him.

"I really need this, and when I get done here, I'm going to cut down that tree," I pointed towards the Oak, "and then I'm going to cut down their trees," I pointed towards the neighbor's house.

"I'm going to cut down every tree on this street," I said getting louder.

The man put his earbuds back in his ears, and kicked up the kickstand.

"I'm sorry I bothered you," he said and left on the bicycle.

"wheeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr."

My lack of experience created a situation on the larger brush trees. I would cut straight through the base, and the weight of the tree would stop the chain before I finished cutting. I would try to push the tree over slightly, and pry out the stopped chainsaw. It was slowing me down and pissing me off.

It eventually knocked off the chain with the engine still running and the chain got stuck in the kickback guard on the tip of the bar. The engine made a crunching noise still trying to move the chain.

"Fuck"

I was sweating and covered in sawdust, and sat on the porch and took off the bar and chain. The Homelite has a chainsaw tool included with it. When trying to put the chain back on the bar, it would not slide back on. The inner teeth of the chain were bent and mangled, and the chain wouldn't fit in the grooves. I stared out at the yard wondering what was next for my life.

I saw my wife walking down the sidewalk towards our house. The dogs sniffed me, and she said, "it's so hot outside, we didn't do our normal walk."

I didn't respond and she went inside.

I was determined I was not going to speak to her that day.  I had a plan to find solace in the yard work, and it was pointless to even say anything.

I walked in the house as she was looking at her phone and sitting on the couch.

I stared at her.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm just amazed at how fucking selfish you are."

I gave up on my plan of the reserved man in pain.

"Ray, I'm sorry, what do you want me to say, I'm sorry," she said raising her voice.

"Why the fuck did you marry me, if you didn't love me? No, no don't say anything, who the fuck does something like that. Why did you pressure me to have a child, if you didn't love me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry," she was crying.

"No, you aren't sorry, you are sorry you are going through this inconvenience, you are incapable of being sorry. For anyone to do something like this has to be completely insane."

"Fuck you, Ray."

"Either you are completely insane, or you did all this just get a baby and money from a divorce."

"I didn't want this to happen, I'm so sorry."

"If you didn't love me why the fuck did you marry me?"

"I couldn't stop the marriage, you wanted to get married so bad," she said.

"Are you fucking kidding," spit flew out of mouth, "we were in pre-fucking-marital counseling, and I told you I didn't feel secure, and you fucking assured me you loved me."

"I thought I did."

"How the fuck can you do this to our daughter?" I asked.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving I have to get out of here."

"Don't fucking leave, I'm going to Home Depot, that piece of shit I bought is fucked up."

"Ray, I cannot take this."

"I'm leaving."

I drove to the store, hoping I was just dreaming, that this was just a dream, that I would just wake up from this nightmare. A real live nightmare.

I stopped at Taco Bell on the way to Home Depot and an acquaintance called me, I almost told him my situation, but instead I just sat in awkwardness and he eventually let me go.

-----------------

"Wait Ray, what do you mean you sat in awkwardness?" said Mr Harkins.

"Oh, like I just didn't say anything on the phone. I didn't reply to anything he said, expect maybe for yes or no. It's really awkward to do that to someone."

"Oh okay, I got it go on."

-----------------

I ate my two bean burritos in the Home Depot parking lot, and washed it down with diet Pepsi.

I bought two more chains, more 2 cycle premixed gas, and more rope.

-----------------

"You keep mentioning rope, what was that for?"

"Oh, I guess i didn't even mention that part. That's actually kind of funny now, but not really then."

-----------------

I went back home and her and the baby were gone, and I had a feeling of, 'get use to it.' I sat on the porch and put a new chain on the saw, and while changing it I noticed a tile we had on the porch that said,  "The Sanpocks: Ray and Shitney."

----------------

"It really said that?"

I laughed, "no, of course not.."

---------------

I picked the tile up and slung it into the ditch from the porch, and to my disappointment it didn't even break. Maybe a corner chipped off. It was like a floor tie, with vinyl letters. One of the many stupid wedding or wedding shower presents we got.

I went back to cutting, and a lot of large branches and trees were falling into the ditch. I pulled my car into the front yard and opened the hatchback. I tied the rope to the lock hatches, and then to the branches in the ditch. I got in the car, slammed on the gas, spun out digging ruts into the yard. The branches came right out.

In hindsight, I would be so embarrassed to do something like that, but I couldn't have cared less then. The crazier my actions the better I felt. I wanted to really take it there to feel something different from what I was feeling. A huge pile of branches and brush were piling up in front of the house.

I knew cutting down the Oak was dumb and dangerous, but I felt like I had to try.

  I got my extension ladder and started on the largest branch. It hung over my drive way and out into the road. I realized pretty quick oak is a hell of a lot harder than privet bushes and weed trees.

The water oak was at least 70 years old. Probably been there since the house was built in '41. I can picture a small tree held up with sticks and twine, the cars from the 40s flying by what was probably a 2 lane Central Ave, in a lot of new construction.

"This tree has lived a lot of years, seen a lot of stuff, but I'm sorry ole girl you gotta come down. I need this" I said aloud and patting the tree. I was covered in sawdust, oil, and sweat.

I made one big V cut to start on the branch, and got almost half way before starting in the opposite direction. As I started on the second part of the V, my buddy came by from before: the man on the bike.

"Man, what is you doing?" he asked.
"I have to do this."
"That branch is going to full right down into the road, you could kill someone."
"Naw man, I'm going tie the car to it, and pull it down into the yard. This has to happen."




 Thank God no one was hurt. It sounded like an explosion when the weight of the branch pulled it down when i was half way into it. Took me about 2 hours. The blade kept getting stuck.

Really surprised I wasn't arrested, the road was blocked. The look on Whitney's face when she came back home and the road was roped off with cops cars and the neighbors were all outside looking at the tree. The blue lights flashing and the look she was giving as she parked down the street and got our daughter out of the car. The satisfaction of completing going over the top, the release, the catharsis, was such a relief.

She walked up, "Oh my God Ray, what the hell happened?"

"Craziest thing, I was out here working on the ditch, and heard this loud crack, I looked over and the branch fell off the oak. So glad there weren't any cars coming when it happened and no one got hurt."

I had the biggest smirk on my face: I felt better.

"Wait, what? You were using your chainsaw over there," I interrupted, "that chainsaw is a piece of shit. I was just pulling out bushes when that limb fell," bigger smirk.

The look of disbelief as she looked at me and then the branch was one of the fondest memories of our marriage besides the birth or our daughter. Mouth dropped, and the face she put on for the neighbors who had no idea of what was happening in our lives.

The feelings of satisfaction were so intense, I felt an epiphany forming, no a spiritual awaking was taking place: if I could take a chainsaw to an oak tree, block traffic on Central Ave and our driveway, and actually feel better, actually feel great, how bad really was this situation?  We had only been married a year and half, I was miserable most of that time. Always wanting her to love me, and not even realizing I didn't even love her.

This wasn't the end of the world. I basically just took down an oak tree with my bare hands. Why feel sorry for myself? I was a complete bad ass.

  

what will she become

"Are you a good boy?"

"Are you a good little boy?'

"Are we friends?"

Ray Porter scratched behind his dogs ears, and petted and rubbed and growled at his Golden Retrievers. The dogs were happy and wagging their tails and Ray's went from growling to mumbling to making a low sounding barking noise that surely no dog has ever made.

"Did yall miss me today?"

He sat down on his couch with both dogs at opposite knees and opened his laptop.

"What did yall do today," said Ray as he logged into his Apple computer.

I want the ball

"There he is, he's got the ball, geez i want the ball, i wish i had the ball."

The fat man waddled from the toilet and spoke unrecognizable words.

"You a good boy, yes you are." the fat man said patting the mean one.

"He always pats the mean one, I wish he would just rub my face, just be nice to me."

The fat man started to walk his way and said, "Dukie, you want to do your exercises, do you boy?"

"noooo."

The man stood behind me, pushing my rear end to the floor, and picked up my paws and waved them to the right, and then to the left.

Mr Harkins wears a dress

We sat in my apartment. It smelled of old wood and sweat, car batteries and burnt plastic. I could not smell it, but Mr Harkins could. He never mentioned it out of politeness. Mr Harkins was very polite.

I never mentioned his claw like toe nails and stained white t-shirts and he never spoke of my crooked teeth and funny hair cuts.

            "Mr Harkins, we get along well don't we?" I asked.
            "Yeah Ray, we do. You are my best friend."

            "I'm sorry we didn't hangout for those years when I was using drugs and alcohol." I said.
            "It's ok, I went down that road, and besides, we get along so well now."

Something New

I took 3 packs of M&M's, 2 bags of whoopers, and chili powder mango slices to the counter at the BP at Winchester and Knight Arnold:

         "Hey buddy, where you been? We not see you for two months or something?"

         "I'm around. Getting candy for the kids."

          "Oh man, you are a good father. How many do you have?"

         "4 girls."

         "That's great. Take it easy."

          "Thanks"


I ate the candy on the way to the therapist. I sat in his lobby and gave the people who came out of his office a bad look.

         "Hey Ray, you want some cold water or coffee?"

         "No thanks."

          "I'm going to make me a pot. Go have a seat in my office."

I talked about myself for 55 minutes and scheduled next week's appointment.  The therapist asked the next couple on the lobby couch if they wanted some cold water or some coffee as I was leaving.

I stared at the Side Porch - Steak House Restaurant while sitting at the light, waiting for a change.

           "I want a steak."

The light changed and I drove through Bartlett.

           "I think i have parkinson disease," I thought as I went down Sam Cooper.

I got off at Highland, but didn't turn left, but went right and then turned left to go behind some buildings on Summer Ave. I passed a fire station with lights on, and a bar parking lot filled with cars. I ended up at Holmes Rd, and turned left driving through Binghampton. On the left was a country club golf course and on the right was barred up windows and nice cars.

I asked myself, "If you were put here without recollection of driving to this spot, would you recognize where you are?"

The answer was "no" which was great: Something new.

Mr Harkins in Ketosis

Mr Harkins laid at the bottom of the stairs panting. The air would not enter his lungs and his heart could not pump the blood and he knew he was about to die.

Jim prayed to God to save him or to not hurt when it happens.

It was an apartment building, the stairs went up with doors at the top and bottom. Across from where Jim Harkins lay was the door to apartment 2, and that's where I was sitting.

I was day dreaming about being married and was annoyed by the unknown source of the distraction outside my brown wooden door.

I was at the dirt and grass dog park watching my wife talk to a man about his terrier.

The train was going by and it was loud. One of our Goldens had rolled in crap and I knew we would have to deal with it later.

My wife kissed me on the neck and a boy at the city skate park screamed an obscenity.

The sun went behind a cloud and I could see the tablet screen much better.

A little boy yelled for Toto to come to him and I asked my wife if you spelled Toto, t-o-o t-o-o. She laughed and said that would be 2 2.

Harkins whispered "help..." but I didn't hear him.

Toto was kicking his back legs on Walley and I noticed what a beautiful day it was with the feel of Spring. 

The view of the trees against the cool blue sky makes me feel spiritual. 

My wife is ready to leave and I fade back to the apartment with Mr Harkins dead outside my door.

"I want a wife and dogs," I thought as I got up to see what was causing the noise behind my brown wooden door. 

Drone cowards and Mr Harkins plea for help.

........ugh

white space.......

ugh.....


Mr Harkins, I've been thinking......

No,  that won't work,

Listen Jim, I've thought a lot about this.....

Ugh..

alright old man, I know you are Conservative, and as I get older I'm getting more Conservative too.

"I gotta take a softer approach," I thought.

I knocked on number 1 and stood in the dark hallway. His door was a rich brown with years of varnish and entries/exits.

I heard his bare feet slide over the hardwood.

the door flew open to old Man Harkins stark naked with a small creature hanging on his thigh. It was sucking blood for nutrients.  Harkins eyes were black, and the creature took one last drink of Mr Harkins and whipped his nourishment hole with it's claw.

"What do you want?" it asked.

I could not speak.

The creature started to climb down his leg and when it reached the floor, Mr Harkins fell back with a thud and a Catholic picture of Jesus crashed to the floor in his apartment.

The thing had black slicked back hair, and was naked. It had suckling breasts and claws like a squirrel.

It asked me again, "Hello, can I help you with something."

I was in shock.

"Oh God, what is with you?" it said as it started to climb up my leg.

I felt it's razor sharp claws go through my denim as it came up my legs and over my stomach, stopping in front of my face.

It waved a claw across my vision, "hello, hello you in there?" it said laughing.

I stammered, "ye ye yeah"

"Oh look, it's alive," it said, "why did you knock on our door?"

I noticed it had a smell of death. Like a dead animal rotting in a dumpster

"Our du- du- door?" I stuttered out.

It stuck it's claws in deep in my shoulders and moved it's head back and forth.

"Yes our door. Me and the old man." It said in anger, looking down to Jim.

Harkins was shaking on the floor.

The smell intensified a 100% when it spoke and I couldn't hold the eels in my stomach. I vomited all over the creature. It hung on the first wave trying to say something but i continued to vomit and it fell in the pool puke like a wasp that had been sprayed with chemicals. It was completely soaked and started to cuss and wipe itself off.

Felt like I puked everything I ever ate.

I puked for hours and eventually just assumed the thing had killed me and this was Hell. It felt, looked and smelled like Hell so I prepared for eternity and simply shut down my thinking.

The U.S. and England's use of drones is a cowardly act. Such tragedy as the thought pattern that allows justification of such an act to manufacture, program, or especially operate one of these machines.

"Are you done?" it asked, the creature.

"yeah I guess so, I'm done. It feels so good to be alive."

"I bet." it said looking around.

"what are you?" I asked

"I'm the force that drives people to participate in violence, savagery, and vice in the world."

"No shit?"

The creature paused talking, and climbed up on Old man Harkins couch, taking a pillow to wipe vomit off it's face.

"Listen bro, there are millions of us out there, and you aren't the first to see one of us. I've been drinking on the old man for years. I control his thoughts too. You have really been talking to me all this time."

"You know me?"

"Yeah, of course. You probably wouldn't even like the real Harkins -very conservative and stubborn. I was the one with all the stories about AOL and shit. He didn't do nothing and he never lived in Alabama."

"Woh," I said going to sit down in recliner.

Mr Harkins moaned on the floor, and I looked at him and said, "will he die?"

"Not if climb back on him in the next couple of hours."

I looked at the track marks covering his legs and stomach. Wounds of puss and filth.

"This cannot be real. This cannot be happening." I thought.

Keto Diet and hatred of life

Dear Diary,

I woke up tired, alone, and scared. My friend's girlfriend is pregnant and my wife says my sperm doesn't work.

I think it could work if it had a chance.....

Diary entry over.

Poem about Winter:
The tree rustled with the first winds of winter. Last leaf fell.

Checking in

Stomach hurts from nuts, but balanced with sugar free chocolate. Everything should be out soon.

House Alert:

New plants in yard, considering cutting the grass, filming starts soon.

Friend Status:

Dismal due to own interaction.

Life Alerts:

Bleak outlook due to nuts in stomach.

Overall progress:
Stalled

Weekend Update:
it rained.

Will you marry me

I knocked on Mr Harkins door, apartment 1A, and I heard the tv turn off, and his feet sliding across the floor.  The bolt unlocked and it echoed in the hallway of 72 North Belvedere.

"Hello there friend, come in, come in. So good to see you," he said.

I walked in and sat down on an old wooden chair.

"Yes sit down, sit down."

He sat in a filthy huge recliner with two tall plastic book shelf leaning over him. There was a 2x4 keeping them from crashing down and he could easily access the books from either shelf from the chair. Papers and bungee chords hung from the structure.  I looked through the books before and it was mostly theology and stuff about the Catholic Church. Nothing I was interested in.

His feet were bare and his toes were hideous.

"Well I asked her, I asked her to marry me," I said.

"Oh Ray, this is wonderful, of course she said yes?" he asked.

"Yeah, she said yes," I was smiling, "she started crying."

"Oh just wonderful. We need to celebrate. Can I get you a diet Coke?"

"Yeah, I'll take one."

We were friends. The only thing we wanted from each other was friendship and we both had something to offer the other.

"How did you ask her?"

"Well you know how she loves her dogs" --

"Yes, I know."

--"I put bowties on both of them and

Just a game?

"It's not just a game to me. I don't give a shit what you say."

"What does it fucking change if they win or lose. Nothing! You are such an idiot," she said slamming the door.

I stared at the stained wood with the glass peep hole, standing in the dark hallway. I heard apartment 1A's door begin to unlock.

"Ray, is everything ok?"

Old man Harkins looked up at me as I noticed his outfit of an old dirty white t-shirt and gray slacks without shoes.

"Yeah," I said walking down the stairs.

"What are ya'll fighting about now?" he asked.

"I kicked the dog when Joe Jackson missed a jumper," I said walking into my apartment. Mr. Harkins followed.

I picked up the remote and turned on the game, sitting down on the green couch. He sat on the green love seat.

"Who won the game?" asked Mr. Harkins.

"It's halftime."  I responded.

"I don't understand why you and everyone else takes it so serious. She's right it's just a game."

I stood up and pointed the remote at Harkins

Angry, "Oh is it. Oh is it Mr Harkins. What the hell do you know. Those kids have played all their lives for this moment. You think they are thinking this is just a game?" I stared at him.

"Well..."

"Was it just a game when the 1973 Tigers brought the city back together after some son-of-bitches bullet had destroyed the budding unity everyone was still working hard towards?"

"Ray..."

"Oh, it's just a game, I've pulled my hair out for years, destroyed furniture, ruined relationships for this team, is that just a fucking game?" I started to walk towards him.

"I'm sorry, I was just....."

"Listen you old mother fucker, was it just a game when I fell down two rows at the Forum on the Louisville fan and her baby at the 2005 C-USA Conference Championship. You like think that little brat thought it was just a game when I fell on his head. DO YOU?" I screamed.

"I'm, I'm....."

I stood over him.

"Was it just a game when Darius Washington laid on the floor crying after missing those free throws?"

"Ray, I didn't know what  I was saying I'm sorry."

The Memphis Tigers, have worked hard to get to this point. It's a once in a lifetime experience for the fans and the players. The television said.

I looked towards the TV and screamed, "see, see what I'm talking about. Once in a lifetime!"

I walked back towards my couch turning up the volume with the remote.

Shaq Goodwin in bounds the ball to Geron Johnson, and the second half has been begun of this third round thriller.

I watched intently and Mr. Harkins shook.

Disappearing Ink

"Fuuuck", I screamed.

"I cannot fucking live like this any longer. Either you start staying here every fucking night or find somewhere else to live."

"baby, I love you, I'm just staying at Liz's."

"Why the fuck do you stay there every Friday and Saturday night. I know, I'm stupid,  I've put up with this so fucking long seems I've accepted your whoreness, but I haven't!  I cannot fucking take it anymore."

I picked up her laundry basket of clothes, put it under my right arm and opened the back door with my left. I stomped down the back hallway, and made the same motions with the exterior door. Once opened, I stepped back and hurled the clothes into the back parking lot of the apartment building.

I remember the "Ding" of a bottle of perfume hidden under clothes hitting the metal pole holding up the fire escape.

I ran back inside and screamed, "Get the fuck out of here, and don't ever come back."

I paused thinking.

"You know it's funny, how in emotional situations like that, I was basically acting out something I saw on T.V. I have an image of a woman throwing a man's clothes out on the lawn. I've probably seen it a bunch of times, and I was just acting it out. I wonder how many other things I simply act out seeing on T.V. Do you think I would have done the same thing if I had not seen it before?"

The Doctor leaned back into a big brown leather chair with his notepad in hand. He finished writing a note, read it and then looked up at me.

"Brad, why do you think she wasn't faithful?"

"Because she slept with men," I said absently wondering about how impressionable I've been my whole life.

"No, I mean did you have proof? Did you catch her doing something that indicates this type of behavior?"

"I only know how to scream like that from hearing my dad growing up." I said looking towards the window.

"Brad, did you catch her sleeping with someone else before this happened?" The doctor asked frustrated.

"Jesus, I wonder if I have an original thought in my brain?" I said wide eyed,  looking at the floor of the doctor's office.

"We can discuss that topic, but please just hang with me for a minute and lets finish the discussion about Lori."

"I wonder if I'm even crazy, I mean not crazy but you know, do I need to even be here. Did I see someone on TV goto a shrink and then I thought i had to go?" I said excited.

"Now, lets just be calm together," the doctor said.

I stood up and looked around like I was seeing the world for the first time.

"Mr Sanpocks, please sit down."

I ran to his bookshelf and started pulling out books, opening, flipping though pages, and then throwing them to the ground. Ignoring the doctor I looked up and shouted, "I have a whole life to learn and act for myself."

I looked at bookends and flower pots for the first time in my life; I had to take it all in. I flipped couch cushions and examined paper weights as the doctor ran past me into the hall.

"Oh God the colors," I screamed in ecstasy looking at the flower arrangements sowed into the carpets.

I fell to my knees and started to cry for joy that my life had been saved. I wasn't the sum of my thoughts;  I was completely free from my past and could enjoy the future.

The receptionist I had seen earlier, walked into the room as I held myself crying.

I gave her a huge smile, and said, " I don't judge you, I don't see you as small and mousy, because we are one. I am free."

The doctor cowered behind her as she raised her hand towards me.

"Yes?" I said happily as the tears rolled down my face.

The world stopped as she pushed the black trigger on the orange canister. The pepper spray was at least six inches from my face.

I was hit by a blinding light, and then it faded and the pain came.From the tips of my hair to the ends of my toes: every molecule in my body was burning alive.

"You goddamn whore," I said falling over.

I rolled on the ground screaming right under the coffee table and tried to stand up breaking the center glass, and falling into the desk with the monitor and keyboard crashing to the ground.

"I'll kill you, you fucking bitch." I said with my arms extended blindly grasping for the receptionist.

I smashed into the bookshelf, and then crashed into the window, breaking glass and falling backwards.

"The last thing I remember is a blurry image of the short little receptionist standing over me, bringing down a brass flower pot on my head."


_______________________________________________________________________________

I paused briefly, "It all went blank."

Mr. Harkins and I sat on the green couch, I was feeling the morning coffee and we were both in a pleasant mood.

"Brad, you know I've been to Dr. Gaberini's office before, and I even know the woman who hit you." said Mr Harkins in his high pitched voice.

"You should have mentioned that, small world," I said with a laughing tone.

"Yeah, I'm not kidding you. I go and talk about Johnny and Irene. I haven't been over there in years, but I know the woman you are talking about. Mean as a rattlesnake." He said smiling.

"Yeah, she was pretty unreasonable, even pressed charges. After I got out of the MED, I spent two nights in jail."

"Oh that's awful."

"Live and learn, Mr Harkins."

Everything wrong with me

"Man Mr. Harkins, I feel like shit."

"Late night Ray?"

We sat on the porch. I had on gray sweatpants and  a hoodie. Mr Harkins was wearing old trousers and a stained wife beater without shoes.

"Sure was. I sat in the living room writing Melissa a letter."

"Oh yeah, what about?"

"How I hate her and want her to die."

"Oh"

Clippers, Floppers, Blake Griffin and Mr. Harkins.

"Mr. Harkins, everything is all good in the universe today," said Ray.

Jim Harkins nodded his head and said, "yep."

They sat on a green couch in a small apartment.

"Ray, why do those grown men roll around on the court and act like they are hurt?"

"You know I don't like to cuss, but they are just little bitches. You would think if they were so freaking good they wouldn't have to flop."

"Floppers, huh."

"Yeah, floppers," Ray said as he turned the volume up on the old TV.

Lilies left for Wyoming that day at 10:21 am.

"Are you going to be lonely with Lilies not coming around?"

"I am, but today just feels like a good day, like everything is going to be alright. You know I don't have that feeling of impending doom and I am going to be alight and you are going to be alright and the world is going to be alright."

"Yep yep"

The men heard two neighbors fighting above them. The floor creaked.The TV announcer was complaining about Blake Griffin flopping.

"Sometimes random thoughts just pop in my head," said Mr Harkins.

"Like what?"

"I was just watching the game and I thought of Allison Tallpole from my high school in Alabama. No reason whatsoever, just a picture of her popped in my head. I haven't thought about her in thirty years at least."

Ignored in the background...."Chis Paul gets fouled, and he is holding his mouth......"

"Maybe the place where you store the word flop in your brain is close to where you store the memory of her," Ray turned the volume down and looked towards Harkins, "Every time I thought of this kid I use to know from my high school I would soon there after think of Overton Park and Poplar."

"I don't understand what you are saying, but that Allison was sure something." Harkins paused for a second, "I do know where that intersection is though."

"I just meant that maybe the memories are close in your head. You store that stuff somewhere right?  I put Ed Langston in one place in my brain, and the next spot held my memory of the Overton Park entrance. Maybe they bleed over or my mind just checks the next few blocks to see it got the whole thought."

"You think Lilies will ever return to Memphis?" said Mr. Harkins changing the subject.

"Maybe, but I hope everything works out for her out there in those hills."

"I feel really good too today for some reason," said Mr. Harkins.

"Dem dere rockies," Ray said in a strange unrealistic accent.

Mr Harkins spoke in fake accent too, "She gunna live is those hills, under a big ol' rock. Yes she is."

Ray laughed out loud never hearing Harkins talk like that.

The men watched the TV as Griffin rolled around on the court holding his face.

More Old Man

Jim was quiet in high school, his friends called him little Hitler because he had a small mustache. He was interested in library science and planned on going to the University of Alabama.

--
A dirty apartment on belvedere street. Hardwood floors, bad smells and two men with a large age difference sitting on a couch.

"I will never understand women, Mr Harkins." I said looking down from the ceiling.

"Brad, me neither. I want them all to explode."

I laughed, "Some mess. There would be blood, puss, bones, hair, and teeth on everything."

"It would be worth it," said Mr. H.

There was loud thunder outside and it was getting dark through the blinds; we were sitting on my green crusted couch and I got up to turn on the lamp.

"I'm hungry, you want to make something to eat or go somewhere?" I asked standing in front of him.

"Brad, I saw a woman explode in the war."

I sat and we stared  into nothing. I waited for him to continue.

"I was in the Korean war in '56, and we were having rec time in the jungle."

"You were in the Korean war? You have never mentioned that." I said.

"I've never mentioned a lot of things."

"Ok, well go on, but I didn't think Korea had jungles."

"Brad, Korea has a lot of things, hidden things, things people have never seen or heard of."

I gave a nervous laugh, and stared at the floor as he spoke.

"My platoon was in the Jungle, they were all drinking beer and I was drinking milk, they were throwing up their hands, and I was praying on my knees, they were cussing, and I was wishing I was back in Alabama."

Bella ran into the room and stopped in front of Mr. Harkins. A quintessential Doberman pincher sitting on it's back legs staring as Mr. Harkins as he spoke.

"We hadn't heard a peep out of the enemy for over two weeks, and we didn't know if they was any of them left to even fight us. The men wanted action, and I just wanted to go home to Elizabeth."

"Your wife?" I asked.

"Yeah, my wife back home in Birmingham. We was sitting there and it started to rain and didn't quit until about 2200 hundred hours; see that's military time, Brad."

"I know, uh, 10:00 pm, right?"

" No, it's 8:00 pm, but close.
All of sudden that rain stopped and Sargent Bill told us all to hit the ground  and we did.
 I went face first, cigarette still in my mouth and I remember the sizzle as the lite end was extinguished in the mud.
 We just lied their listening to the jungle, staring into the dark green.
  I wasn't too interested in whatever they wanted to kill or see so I rolled on my back and watched as the moon became visible through the clouds.
 It was a huge moon, slightly obscured by the tops of the trees.
I remember it like it was yesterday, Brad.
Taking in that clean rain smell eventhough I was laying in mud and muck.
 My hands and back were wet and it was soaking through my pants.

Blooms of color exploded in my vision and I was in a new world. One second I was laying in mud staring at the moon and the next I was watching bursting swatches tear into a thousand drops and remerge in a cycle of colors. The dark green jungle became purples and blues, and reds, and oranges, and all those colors mixed together turning around and coming back to where they started. A sky of color. A world of color.

As quick as they came, the colors left and I was back in the jungle laying on my back with the smells and the moon.
I rolled over on my side and began to speak but as soon as I opened my mouth the colors came back in an even brighter array.

Images started to appear in the patterns, women, men, but strangely shaped like you would assume the color purple or orange would be if it could be any form. Rainbows of drops and showers of color. This seemed to go on a lifetime. It really felt like I watched this happen for eighty year; the colors and shapes were always different and I knew time was passing but my attention was fully focused. One of the most clearly remembered of the images, was a woman.. She took up my full vision. She was oriental and had oriental clothes and such and they were of an ordinary color;  not like the rest of the visions and she held out her hand to me. I started to reach for her and my arms and fingers were colors and right before we touched,  just right before my colors and her hand were about to unite.

 Brad I'm serious, I have never felt or understood anything like this in my life, and I have never mentioned it to a soul.

Right before we touched, a little envelope floated across our paths. It was kinda like a cartoon and it danced as it went by. Both the Oriental woman and I stared as it slowed bounced between us. It even had carton like lines behind and to the side of it to emphasize its movement. The letter slowly bounced its way into a letter box; like you would see in a neighborhood or a suburb of Memphis. The mailbox shut its door, and I heard the most incredible thunder of a voice. And Brad, remember this is 1956 or 57 in the middle of the Korean jungle, and the terrible God like voice said, "You got mail." and the woman exploded into a billion colors in every direction."

I laughed and Mr. Harkins looked at me sternly.

"I am not telling a joke, Brad. That's what I heard. I wrote it in my diary after I woke up, and that's not all; when I did wake the following morning, all my men were dead."

I laughed and hoped Mr. H was going to laugh, but he didn't. He just stared at my seriously.
Bella was now looking at me and began a low growl.

"God told me I had mail and saved my life in that horrible place."

I didn't know where to look or what to say, so I said,
"That's really interesting."

"You are damn right it is," said Mr. Harkins.

That was the first time I ever heard Mr. Harkins cuss, I realized he must think he is serious.

"Brad, God showed me email in 1956. I could have made a fortune when I got back home, but I got hooked on amphetamines and America Online stole my idea years later."

Bella barked.

Private Prison 2011

Where I went in 2011

February: Decatur Alabama 3 days, conference on youth violence.
April: Panama City 4 days, conference on antisemitism.
June:Petite Jean State Park 5 days vacation with brown haired girlfriend. See previous picture.
September: San Diego 6 days World Conference on childhood hunger.
October Little Rock 2 days Softball tournament.
November Knoxville 3 days Thanksgiving retreat for disabled veterans.
December Gainsvile Florida 4 days Young fly fishermen of America.

Green blobs float through the sky, and I notice cows on the hill while not noticing the brake lights in front of me.

Screech of tires, air past my teeth, three weeks late.

I asked her where she had been and she said in smart voice, "i was at my mom's eating turkey."

I asked, "was it turn key?"

She said, "fuck you"

Fuck you.

"Do you really fish?"

"Yeah, why is that weird?"

'Aren't you vegetarian?"

My sister sent me a text today that said  "....biopsy report was necrotic tissue with bacteria and some fungus."

Sounds gross on your tongue.

old man harkins and the mysterious dog leash.

"Please God, help me maintain my integrity, help me to stop bad mouthing everyone, please help me and Lilias get along, please please help me learn to enjoy this dog....of course if its your will dear Lord. Thank you for saving me from that old life, in your loving name, amen."

Knock knock, I got off my hands and knees -praying like a Muslim and went to open the door.

It was Saturday morning around 9 am.

I knew it must have been Beverly from the Jehovah's Witness place down on Cleveland or it was Mr. Harkins wanting help with his computer. Really wasn't in the mood for either.

I opened the door to Lilias standing there and she looked pissed.

She was holding our dog Bella, a doberman pinscher puppy, and imeaditly handed her to me.

"I've had it, I've fucking had it. I hate this fucking dog. I didn't get 20 minutes of sleep last night because of her. You want to give her away, go right ahead."

Bella started trying to lick my face and I put her down.

"Baby, what the fuck, you wanted the goddamn dog, you went and fucking picked her out and now you don't want her."

We heard Mr. Harkins door unlock from across the hall, and I motioned for her to come inside quick.

"No, I don't want to even be around that damn dog, she tore up my favorite shoes and attacked Pants."
Pants was the name of her dog, a brown and black yorkie that's fur looked like it was wearing pants.

Mr. Harkins peaked out of 1 A, and said, "Brad is everything ok?"

"Yeah Mr. H. we are discussing Bella again."

Lilias said, "Not anymore," and started walking up the wide wooden stairs to her apartment.

"Baby please don't do this," I said as she just kept walking.

I walked back in my apartment and Mr. Harkins followed. I noticed for the first time he was carrying an old leash but I didn't ask. We sat on opposite ends of my crusted green couch and watched Bella staring at the fish aquirum.

I asked, "What do you think she is thinking about?"

"Oh Brad, women are just like that, I won't ever understand them."

I laughed, "no Bella, I wonder what she is thinking about looking at those fish."

"She probably thinking about breakfast."

I faked laughed.

"Brad, when I was a boy I had a dog named Spot and it died, and then I got a dog named scrapper and it got hit by a car and then I got a dog named skipper and my mother gave it away."

Bella barked at the goldfish and then ran into the other room.

"I hate that dog," I said.

"When I was married to Johnny's mother we had a dog together and I really believe that's what ruined our marriage."

"Weren't you guy only married for 6 months?"

"Yeah, I put my hands on her."

"You got married, got her preggers, and then got a divorice in 6 month?."

"Yeah, it was different in those days."

Bella ran into living and tired to jump up on couch but missed, fell over backwards and quickly turned right side up.

"She's a good girl, aren't you a good girl," said Mr. Harkins.

Bella started to go behind the tv and fight the wires.

"Bella," I screamed, "come her Bella, treat."

She looked up at me and went back to biting. I got up and picked her up and brought her to the couch.

We heard Lilias stomping around upstairs.

"If I could get rid of her and that dog in the same move I think I would be doing alright." I said.

"Brad, I've lived at 72 North Belevedere for on and off for eighty years.-'
"But you are only 72?"
Brad, I was 72 the last time you ask me that, but it's been quite some time since we have even seen each other."

"Huh?"

Bella growled at old Man Harkins.

year 2038 problem

Unix time, the amount of seconds from January 1, 00:00:00 1970 cannot get past 2038 as a 32bit integer.

Its current at  1318449967, one billion, three hundred and eighteen million, four hundred and forty nine thousands, nine hundred sixty seven seconds since 1970.

Unix based computers, Andriod, Apple OSx,  iphone, etc use this number to keep time. Any application relying on this time should crash after year 2038. Y2k right? This is more serious.

I will be 59 years old in 2038, 27 years from now.

Ive never met anyone 59 years old named Brad.

Just got my wisdom teeth out, man fudge this stuff, its a dull pain for a week and I've only had advil. Stupid Unix Epoch couldn't come any earlier.

Old Man Harkins Bio

John Jim Harkins was born in Montgomery Alabama in nineteen hundred and thirty three.

His parents were Martha Farris and John Thomas Harkins. His father was a bus driver and his mother a secertary in a furniture store. They were Catholic.

Jimmy, as they called him, had no siblings, and his parents were not exactly affectionate. 
_______________________________________________________________________________
When I opened the door to my apartment this morning I heard coughing from 1 a, and knowing how old Mr Harkins was I was concerned. I knocked and the door opened to marijuana smoke and some stupid looking hippie woman with a horrible grin on her face.

I asked her why she was in Mr. Harkins apartment, and she said in a terrible voice,

"ehy dude," cough, "I don't know no Harkins."

I was immediately  concerned and thought of millions of horrible things her and her loser associates could have done to him.

"listen you harlot, you tell me where Mr. Harkins is right this second."

"Ehy, man you must mean Jimmy......"

She stopped and her head bobbed and she looked confused and then fell forward. She landed face down and there was a broken glass bong stuck in her back.

Mr Harkins was standing behind her in an attack pose and although the situation was extremely serious there was something very comical about his stance:  bare foot, dirty pants and browned tank top with suspenders.

He is only about 5' 5" you know.

"Yes we know Mr. Hardsocks, can you please go on?"

Well she was kinda squirming on the ground and I could tell the bong was only in her about a quarter of an inch so I pulled it out with her screaming something about hacky sack or something. Maybe she was singing a Widespread lyric or something. I don't know she was making all kinds of noise down there, but seemed ok. Her patchwork pullover soaked up what little blood there was anyway pretty quick.

"What did Mr. Harkins do then?"

He told me she talked her way into his apartment, and tried to have sex with him.

"Does Mr. Harkins normally bring hookers home and use narcotics with them?"

I don't think she was a hooker  maybe a stripper but she had horribly hairy legs,

"Do you do drugs Mr. Hardsocks?"

Naw, not any time recently