Saturday, December 15, 2007

A Man: a short story Part I

A man sits.

Alone.

He stares.

Christmas. To him it doesn't seem like Christmas.

He used to love Christmas. The presents. He loved to buy presents.

He would travel far and wide for just the right gift for the ones he loved. He really enjoyed wrapping presents. He'd buy special ribbons and bows and lace. He loved to give presents. In fact he loved to give of himself to every one.

As long as he can remember, he lived for Christmas. The singing, the smells, the smiles - it warmed him.

Nothing warms him now. He feels cold. Alone.

It started benignly enough. He had kidney stones and a back ache. His doctor prescribed Vicodin.

Vicodin. That's what did it. That's where it started. Kidney stones, a back ache and Vicodin.

He liked Vicodin too much. The elixer from hell. He got hooked.

His supply ran out. He wanted more. He broke the law.

He was embarrassed. He's still embarrassed.

He recovered. Or so he thought. Therapy. Counseling. It was tough but he kicked it. Completed what was required by the state and it was expunged -it never happened or so he thought.

The state passed a law. All convicted felons must submit a DNA sample for the database. He complied.

He hears a moan or maybe a groan. He realizes it's coming from him. He's shaking his head now. Hard. This must be a dream. A horrible dream. A nightmare.

"For shame" He says to noone.

"FOR SHAME!"

He put his trust in the system . . . and here he sits.

But he thinks of the woman. The woman he never knew. How her life was mercilously taken from her. He feels bad for her family. He feels bad for his family. Christmas is bad. Christmas time is the worst. Too many lost Christmases.

Justice. American justice. Such a hollow word. Such a farce. He relied on it. He depended on it. He believed that the truth would out. That the jury would see and believe the truth.

But that didn't happen. It didn't take long. They deliberated only a few hours. Friday afternoon. Not long at all. Get home for the weekend. After a long trial the jury had their verdict. Fast. It was Friday. The weekend.

"Guilty."

The word rang in his head.

Reverberated.

His mouth went dry now just as it did when he actually heard the word. He could not move. Paralysis. His mind thought of the Christmases that would never be. The gifts he would never be able to buy and wrap. The suprised and happy faces of the ones he loved.

Every year it was getting harder. He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream. Noone wanted to listen.

He didn't know, never met, didn't run in the same circles the woman but she was dead. His DNA was on her and he was in prison for life without parole.

"for shame . . . "

Saturday, August 25, 2007

It's a Gas


It's been a looooooonnnnnnnnng time since I have posted.


I have no idea where the time has gone. My small law practice is growing - my fiction production is not.


I recently discovered YouTube where, while searching for guitar lessons, I found this video of a version of Classical Gas. Check it out.........it's a gas.


If you like'd that, check out Bohemian Rhapsody.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Day Job

I returned to work, "the day job" this past November. It has been taking up every waking moment trying to rebuild a law practice in a very bad Michigan ecomony.

I haven't written but a few pages of bad fiction in about six months. I miss it. There was an escape and freedom I enjoyed writing fiction that I do not get from writing briefs, motions, and objections.

I hope to return to blogging and writing fiction soon. There are many stories I wrote that need revisions, revisions, revisions. I seem to lack the persistence necessary to be a true writer or my timing has been off.

I hope all of my fellow bloggers and readers are well and hope one day to retrun with gusto to the blogshere.

It's cold and lonely out here in the real world. . .

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Bong Hits for Jesus

During a school parade in 2002, a Juneau-Douglas High School student named Joseph Frederick and some friends unfurled a 14-foot banner that read "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" just as cameras were passing them.

Little did Mr. Federick know that his joke would set in motion a l1st amendment legal battle that will soon be decided by the US Supreme Court. Only in America can a school board, Kenneth Starr, and the Bush Administration be pitted against the religious right, the ACLU, and Mr. Federick. Politics and strange bedfellows.

As reported by an MTV article, the dispute is the first school freedom of speech case to be heard by the Supreme Court in 40 years.

"The case of Morse vs. Frederick could have serious implications on the limits of speech in public schools for generations to come, with one expert saying that a win for the administration's side could create schools in which any form of speech that isn't directly related to the "stated educational mission" is stamped out and forbidden. "

Rosa Parks never thought that her refusal to give up her seat would have such tremedous effects to our culture. Who would ever think "Bong Hits for Jesus" could too...

Monday, January 15, 2007


MLK Posted by Picasa

In Honor of Martin Luther King

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
MLK, Silence


Society or members of it seem to eliminate good leaders before they are able to make their ultimate contribution.

Martin Luther King made real strides to mend the American racial divide only to be hounded by government, threatened by racists, and ultimately assassinated for his belief's and influence.

It was America's loss, possibly the worlds.

Sunday, January 14, 2007


FDR...where are you when we need you? Posted by Picasa

The only thing we have to fear....

After watching the screaming punditry and media tsunami that we are all doomed, I believe we need to get a grip. Roosevelt's inaguration speech tag line was my inspiration - then I went back and read it...

It begins:

"I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days." Read it all at http://historymatters.gmu.edu/d/5057/

The parties in power want us all to fear; the sun burning out, an astroid, terrorists, global warming, crime, skin cancer, hair loss, erectile disfunction, etc. Once they have us scared, we're fucked. We vote wrong, we erroneously spend money, etc.

Let's get a grip. Think about it. Regain our composure, and take back our country. Demand leadership. Stop the "hold you nose and vote" The two party system aint working.

Someone suggest a viable alternative...

Or we're Fucked and destined for the route of the Roman Empire and the dodo bird.

Monday, January 08, 2007


Plutoed Posted by Picasa

No longer a planet, Pluto Posted by Picasa

Pluto'ed

It was my wish to write something profound for the new year. I struggled and struggled. I saw a recent article about Pluto, and there appeared a blog post.

The American Dialect Society 2006 Word of the Year is Plutoed or "to pluto" as "to demote or devalue someone or something, as happened to the former planet Pluto when the General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union decided Pluto no longer met its definition of a planet."

At one time I thought I could write. I have been Pluoed, by myself. I haven't or do not want it enough. There is a sacrifice required. A pound of flesh to be given that I cannot muster.

I write, at times, well. It is sporadic, not professional. Not enough. If before they toss the last shovel of dirt in my face, I find that bit of inspiration, I intend to write it.

I really enjoy blogging, but most of what I read and have written is tedious bullshit.

The only thing that resonates is honesty and realism. I try and fail.

Plutoed.