Under pressure...

Before I left California for the bright lights of Vegas. I lived with several friends, Tony, Sean and Johnny. 4 twenty something guys living in a 2 bedroom one bath apartment. It was glorious to say the least. One of the best times of my life.

So one drunken night, the others thought that it would be fun to play with a Ouija board. And what fun it was... for them. Silly me I was at work and had no idea what was going on. Well by the time I actually got home form work, Johnny was playing a video game with Sean and Tony had passed out. Which was fine as I shared a room with Tony so I just went into bed. Tony was out of it, I turned on the light and he did not even move. This made me chuckle as he would be badly hung over in the morning, and it was always much fun to mess with him when he was in that state.

As I got into bed Tony all of a sudden turned over, I don't mean slowly but like he jumped and flipped over... Well OK fine, as so as my head hit the pillow I started to dose off.

Well I was in a deep sleep as I remember I was dreaming at the time, what woke me up is I felt some one sit on the edge of my bed. I told Tony to go back into his bed, sometimes when he was drunk he forgot where his bed was... very funny as we all slept in twin beds. Anyway, No response was given and I was about to sit up when I felt a pressure on my chest and it started to push down on me. I was finding it hard to draw a breath and the pressure just kept pushing me further into the bed. I felt the bed give a little on the other side of me and the pressure increased even more.

At this point it was impossible for me to inhale or exhale as all the air had been pushed out of my lungs. I tried to move my arms to get away and I could not move them either. I really began to try and move... I could do nothing to get away from it. I took the only option, at least in my mind, that I had open to me. I prayed, I prayed for protection, I prayed for mercy, I even prayed that this thing would not touch anyone else... And it was gone, so fast that I actually threw my self up out of bed and landed on the floor.

I sat there for a moment, thanking God for his mercy... Tony looked up at me and asked: Did it get you too? And passed back out...

I cussed him out for three days straight before I found out about the Ouija board... Then I cussed the three of them out...

I stayed in that room for a few more weeks and that was the only event on Adams Street as we call it now.

Still kinds of creeps me out...

Never did I wanna be here again

Since Halloween is a few days away, and I have posted exactly ZERO historical events, I will now start to post some of the real life scary stuff that plagued me when I was younger… I have 3 solid events, one lasting over several days. Now I know 3 events does not make a plague, but what you need to understand is that what ever started these events had been living in my peripheral vision for several years after. I would see things skirt my vision, I would hear my name called out, things would move on their own. Nothing more than that, it just seemed it wanted to bug me, tease me kind of thing. I only had one minor scratch appear, but it was on my eyelid so I still have the scar from it… some 20 years later and I still have the scar, go figure.

Well this is that story, where I got the scar. There were some events leading up to this, one of my friends had thought they had become obsessed, like in the current movie Paranormal Activity, good movie btw. Well I was a joiner then so we and one other friend started trying to figure out how to get rid of this thing. We did research in libraries, we asked priests and ministers. We called, talk or wrote anyone we thought could help us remove this thing. We got very few answers back. We had just enough information to make us think we new what to do, but nothing set in stone.

This was long before I found God. I was a drift in the spiritual sea of guesstimation… meaning I thought I knew what I believed in. Again I had no clue.

Well on thing lead to another, and we ran into a preacher from a local church, funny enough it was to be the church that I was saved in years later. Well he said he could pray over my friend and have the demon move on… We jumped at the chance. We all started praying… this went on for just a few minutes before my friend had gone pail, and started to sweat. Now my other friend said she had gotten cold as well, me I felt a little warmer than I had when I came in. Well looking back I think we just pissed it off, as what happened to me that night is what my post is about:

That night I was heading to bed, I was the last one up in the house. As I climbed the stairs some one tapped my front door. The front door was at the base of the steps, Well I turn, go down the steps and open the door… nothing… nothing at all. I figure I imagined it, so I turned and went to bed. Now the Head of my bed was directly under my window, my window was always open unless it was raining. So I lay back close my eyes and heard some one call my name. Now this was not a big deal as many people would do just that to wake me up if they needed me. So I look down into the alley and no one is there. I call out, “What?” No response… I look some more and nothing. Ok I started to feel kind of weird but ok, just hearing things… As I close the blinds I heard wings flapping, not normal wing mind you, not like bird wings, but more like bat wings, very kind of leathery slapping together sounding. And not huge wings either fast beating wings, but I had never heard them there before. Well I get a bit up tight, and go wash my face in the bathroom.

I get back into bed, and start to drift off to sleep. I was having one of those twilight dreams; you know the thoughts as you are drifting in sleep, the ones that are almost dreams? Yeah I was floating… floating above a huge dark pit…. Just floating… it was then this really gross looking butterfly, I mean it looked like an oozy scab, landed on my nose, in the dream that is. It woke me up and I opened my eyes and I was close enough to the ceiling to brush my nose on it… I mean I got an up close look at the popcorn of the ceiling, and next thing I knew I fell back down onto my bed. I mean I fell 4’or 5’ feet back onto the bed. It sent me so hard back down that I cracked on of the supports for the box springs. Well my heart is beating now faster than it had in a long time. I sat up and looked to my closed door, this is when I saw the figure walk into the wall that made up my closet. I could make out the face and a few more details before it was gone, but it had only been there for a few seconds. I turned on my light and looked all over my room, in the hall, in my closet and found no one. I found nothing but a little bit of ceiling popcorn on my bed, that was it. I turned on my TV and started watching whatever the hell was on.

I did eventually fall back to sleep that night, but I fell asleep with the lights and TV on. Four strange things happened the next morning that cemented the even in my mind.

When I first opened my eyes I realized I could one open one, the other was kind of soar. When I looked at it in the mirror I saw I had a scratch on my eye lid and that it had become infected. Now I have never had an infection come on that red and swollen that fast. I looked like a bee had stung me, but I did not feel it last night, but my eye was swollen shut.

Lights and TV were off… I know I had left them on, and I do not sleep walk. But both the over head and the lamp were off as well as the TV. I have no proof of either of these but I know I left them on.

The last thing happened a few hours after I was awake, my sister started yelling at me about how load it was when I jumped into bed, she said it scared her really bad… yeah.

So there it is event #1. Believe it or don’t, doesn’t matter to me.

Out of the doorway the bullets rip

For someone who has never been in the military, or police force. I have seen the business end of a gun way to many times, and been shot at way to many times. Of course one time is way too many times, and I am very thankful that both times I was shot at the shooter had poor aim. And the funny thing is I have been shot at more times than I have been hit with a fist… go figure.

The first time, I was working at a fast food restaurant called Nagels, they are now closed. I worked the graveyard drive thru shift. Lots of drunks and police officers were our main source of customers during that shift. Well we got thru the rush and we were taking a smoke break in the dinning room when a single guy on a really nice Harley pulls up to the drive thru window.

I jump up, because I was done smoking and took his order; I know it was something easy because I told the rest of the crew not to worry. I make and serve him his food and he takes off. I went back to the dinning room to try and figure out who was going to do what cleaning, and I hear a tap on the glass, I turn and it is the biker with a bright and shinny 45 auto… at least that’s what it looked like. He acted like he pulled the trigger and rode off. So I called the police and told them the description… blah, blah, blah… they swing by to let me know they were out looking and would soon catch him… Last I heard of it so yeah. But we gave the cops a free meal…

The next time was a simple robbery at a Red Lobster in Vegas… I was lucky enough to be put in charge of getting the money… I didn’t even work there; I was just hitting on the cashier… Now I thought that guy was going to shoot me… he didn’t but they did get away… He had what looked like a Saturday night special, as the old 70’s cop shows called them. Snub nose .38 I think. Very nervous guy, kind of jumpy, that’s why I thought he was going to shoot me. He didn’t I did ask him to put it away, we knew he had it and we would give him the money… well he got it and left… police showed up and said they would look into it… And again the cops got a free meal…

Later that same year was the, 1992, was the Rodney King riots… and I stuck my nose where it did not belong. A friend and I decided to go look at where all the rioting was, it was rather strange to see all these buildings burning, windows broken and good people just walking off with stuff… cars flipped over and on fire… Anyway, we turn and on our right, by the way I was a passenger on this ride, were a large group of people, many of whom had guns in their hands… many guns as a matter of fact…Well the driver punched it just as one of the group brought up a gun and pulled the trigger. Now it must have been a small caliber as it did not penetrate the door skin, but if they rounds would have I would have been hit 3 times in the thigh… I did not find this out till we went back to get the car, see where they did not penetrate the door one round did hit the back tire. We got about 2 blocks away before we could go no further. We pulled over next to a mini truck that had been in front of us. Just then a cop car full of riot geared officers screeched to a halt, and told us to get the hell out of there. The driver of the pick up offered us a ride in the back, and we said THANK YOU, and hopped in the back. I am thinking no free meal for the officers that night…

Well a few days later just as calming down, I was at work, 7-11. And a shot range out from the parking lot and shattered one of the front windows. Now I did not see who fired the gun or where they fired from, but as I was the only person in the store at the time, I feel safe in thinking someone was trying to shoot me. And I gave the responding cops free coffee and donuts… least I could do.

Let’s see, the last time, I was tending bar in Vegas, by the Hard Rock Café. I regular named Violet was in and she had been having issues with her significant other. She walked out to go home. All of a sudden I hear her start screaming, I run out and her old man has the gun pointed in her face with one hand, and his other hand is on her throat. I yell at him to let her go. He turns and looks at me… I thought, I am going to get shot… right here at work… he lets her go. I tell Violet to go back into the bar and call the cops, she does. He looks at me, while pointing the gun at me… and me with out any way to protect myself, and says: I’m sorry… I don’t want any trouble from you… I am going to go home…

To this day, I do not know why he did not shoot me or why he thought I would be able to give him trouble… But that was the last time to I dealt with the hostile end of a gun.

at the old ball game

This may shock you, but I do like some sports. Some sports I only like when you can see them live. Baseball being one of them, but to watch it on TV or hear it on the radio... shoot me now please God... boring as yacht racing... paint drying comes to mind...

Be that as it may, I am not a big follower of any sport, but that does not mean I do not like them. Now here is my story:


Long ago, one late May afternoon, I was brought to a park where I was to be playing little league. Many of my school chums were there and of course my mitt was well oiled and loved. I began to toss the ball around with one of my friends from school. As the ball sail back and forth between us I began to think how long it had been since I played… maybe a year, maybe a year and a half. It had become a long year for me. Well it should make no difference; I was as good as my friends… I had thought.

Well the coach and his assistant come out to give us the warm up speech… you know the one:

There is no “I” in T E A M… but there is in meat pie, which has a T E A M in it as well… blah, blah, blah, heart, blah, blah, doesn’t matter if we win, blah, blah, blah, need team spirit… Now go out there and let’s see what you got…

Now this man, coach, is the reason sports for children had to change. He was the “a-typical” alpha male. He wore his uniform from the previous year out to see what his new team could do. Don’t worry I run in to him again when I am older.

So it went, running drills, sliding drills. Hitting, catching more running. In the end I had several days invested into this team already, mind you prime time, time too. Right after school, parents were not home yet, I could run free… I could… do stuff…

Well along came Friday, and my Big Brother, of the organization not by birth, picked me up from school. I thought wow great Dick is going to take me to practice. No he was not a dick, his name was Richard, and he liked being called Dick.

I jumped into the car, said my hello’s and we pulled away from the curb Dick asked if I was hungry. Well yeah, was going to run home grab some food and run to practice… well really walk. He said ok lets go to Denny’s… should have seen it right there.

We sit down; I get my soda and a burger. Dick orders coffee, see that’s where I get the coffee habit cause that is all he ever drank. And he begins to tell me how he had talked with the coach, and how he felt that I would be better served to go play with 9 year olds, or not to play at all… I could go play with 9 year olds… I was 13, and a big 13 at that… was to step down and play with much smaller and younger boys… I was bemused with this, surely I was as good as my friends… how could he not want me on his team… Yeah I was pudgy but I could run, I could catch, hit slide…

It took me a while to figure out what happened, like several years, where as I was able to play with my friends, my friends were better than me. The thing that made it kind of last much longer than it should have, the ass-hat told my friends why I was not on the team, and the choice I had been given. They stopped playing with me, oh it dragged on for a few weeks, but eventually they stopped. Lost touch with them over that summer just stopped caring I guess. Made new friends, found new things to do, places to go, trouble to get into… but I never did put that glove back on.

Don't know much about history...

Back a few years ago, 1982 IIRC, I was lucky enough to have been placed into a normal class. Until this point everyone had said I was hyperactive, past speak for ADD. In truth I was bored, which made me lazy. Which made me look for shiny things to play with to make the day go by.

Now I am not talking genius level intelligence or anything like that. Just a bit advanced, I made connections very quickly, saw patterns almost immediately. I learned to read and write with out ever doing any of the work my other classmates did.

Well, turns out this teacher would not let me return to my normal level classes, she would not let me leave her class. She was under the silly impression that I would do her class work and home work, take her tests etc... And I didn't, all this did was make me unable to pass the class.

I had become used to not having to work to achieve decent grades. It took me several years to realize she was not being mean, but rather trying to get me to do what she knew I could. For a long time I disliked her, no hated, because of my hubris I hated an educator. This is one of the few regrets I have in my life.

I now believe that a good educator should always be respected. Miss Hamquist I am sorry, and thank you for trying...

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale...

I seem to have a lot of issues with anger these days. And seeing as I’m trying to reduce my BP, I need to figure out what is going on. To that turn, I ran across an ex of mine. She is doing well, and I found a current photo of her. I found myself starting to itch around the neck, usually means I am getting angry. For no reason, I have not seen this woman since I lived in Vegas, and I was mad at her. Some 15 years later and I am still mad… This is not right.

Why am I mad at her, well she did not treat me well, and I did not ask her to treat me better so it is my fault I took it. She does not owe me money, she did not “ruin” my life. Why do I carry a grudge? Why do I even care?

So to help me out, I am going to talk of my childhood, good bad and ugly. That is what I will be doing for a few days or more. And again try to become a better person because of it.

I will start by telling of the time when I was two, yes two. It is the only memory I have from that long ago, really my earliest.

Seems my sister and I, late one afternoon, decided that it would be a good idea to go ahead and get the cookies mom had placed on the top shelf.

That would require some cabinet climbing and some counter shimmying. But low and behold, I had made it, with my sister cheering me ever onward. I crawled around the stove top, and got into position right in front of the top cabinet.

Now the bottom of the cabinet may have hit my waist, but more than likely it hit my belly. Well I got my knee on the lowest ledge and started to shimmy as best I could. I got my second knee planted and started to stand up. I worked my little hands up the center divider, and started to reach for the brass ring…

I was almost there, and my sister said something I looked over my shoulder at her, and I swear, to this day I swear I saw the spider from Gilligan’s Island, the big one… big ugly scary big one… the one Gilligan tried to free the bird and it attacked the spider and saved the castaways? No? Nothing? Well it was a big ugly hairy thing and it was standing right behind my sister.

Well I let go of the center divider to cover my eyes out of fear, and that’s when I fell, I fell like 5’ (lowest shelf in the cabinet is where my feet were). And I remember thinking, on my way down, it’s gonna get me… its gonna eat me… and my head hit the tile of the kitchen floor.

I remember the next few days my head hurting, and that’s about it.

Now because of that stupid spider, I am 98% deaf in my left ear, I get strange headaches, at least the way other people describe them, mine are always more like sinus headaches and I never get other kinds. You know the ones that start at the base of the skull and swarm over like an invasion force… yeah I don’t get those.

I also mark this incident as to why my sense of humor is sort of twisted and off beat. And according to my mother it is the reason I am lazy… hate to break it to her, but I just think I am lazy, and would have been lazy… at least in my opinion.

So that stupid spider is why I cannot hear stereo, why I find it hard to locate some due to sound, and why I have a hard time hearing in general.

Thanks creepy spider…

The doctor will see you now...

Why is this not ever said anymore?

I remember as a child going to see Dr. Altman his nurse would say:

OK cutey, the doctor will see you now. (even then I was good at charming people)

I still have memories of those times, the last time I remember going to him I was 15 and my aunt wanted me to have the sex talk with him... everything he told me I already new from health class, what I did not know was how to get some... Later I did link charming to that particular problem and it started working.

Well I went to see my new doctor, thanks Kaiser, nice guy, younger than me but very effective at getting you to put that aside, well at least for me. I felt I could trust him. Funny thing BP was 130/80... last week it was 19807960679876/98 some thing like that... I feel I am going in the right direction with my health anyway. Still need to take the meds for the BP but nothing else so far.

I still do not smoke, and I can breath. So now I need to start moving more, and that is just what I will be doing.

I will let you know...

Shhh... I'm thinking

But not really.

I have so much flying around my head, what with the capture of the Pedophile known as Roman Polanski. The bile I still taste from the loss or rather the removal of a friend from my life. To the fact that work has not changed and will not change anytime soon.

Now, why do I car about Roman Polanski? It is really none of my bussiness at all. I hold him in no great degree of esteem. I find the fact he dodge out on his sentence silly, it would have been doen and over with by the time the 80's hit.

Nor do I care about his art. Well I do, but in no way should it be a reason to not be held accountable. It does not elevate him above the rest of us.

I think what angers me the most is the fact that the hollywood elite think they are above the common man. That they some how have a better veiw of the world from thier door step. I would suggest you loose the idea that you will be able to change anything for a very long time. You are in the minority and people resent you for it. You screwed up, you should have stayed silent. But now the groups who you supported and vice-versa are now yelling at you to sit down and shut up. How is it you can cry ov er the horrible act of rape around the world, be out raged at any mistreatment of women, and still say: Roman Polanski is a humanist. I do feel sorry for those people now, I have a very low opinion of humanists. So yeah sit down, stop back peddeling because it was not a youthful mistake, it was not a moral choice and it was rape-rape. Thats all I have to say on that.

As far as my friend being removed... Well it was time, we both grew older and further apart. I tried to be understanding and loving, but he simple refused to except that God moves me, to him this is well just utter nonsence and must be ridculed because of it. In short he insulted me, my wife my other friends and stood on his "ethical" ground that I was the asshole, the unforgiving the ever devouring conservative. So yeah... I do hope you find God before you smell sulfur.

And work, well it will be at least 5 years, given that the same personel remain, until we get a change. But, I do my job and go home to my loving wife. and I post this here now as a proof:

Her Birthday is October 10th, I did not forget, we are going to the coast for a kite festival.