Black mold....!

The time has come to turn off "Trump." So I'm looking at myself as if I were me; therefore, I say I'm dead. I found myself swinging on the porch's swing. There I am sitting on the swing reading a mystery off of the New York Times' best seller list. It's my niece's house; her porch & swing. I have a place on the Ashley river not far from here. It's less than 50 feet from the water when the tide is up, high tide. They found 'black mold' & I will leave it at that, no more said. OK! Now! Because of the black mold, I have to leave my home. I can no longer live there. I have to live somewhere.  This is just getting underway. I'll be moving out and about. Every few days my wife will move me around, this relative or that friend. They all have wonderful accommodations. Believe me when I say this: I have the greatest fear of waking up in the middle of the night, not remembering where the bathroom is because I'm not sure where I'm sleeping this night; there will be so many different twist and turns to getting there. I don't want to mess the bed up, you know! See the problem with me is that my memory has limited capacity.  Like, you go from point A to point B and upon arrival you forgot what it was that you came into the house for, B. In this situation A is outside on the porch's swing. I do this all the time. For example, something pops into my mind's eye; I go to execute, yet there I backfire as they say. Yes! Just like now, I'm sitting at the table writing in my diary, wondering who out there will ever get its message. Trump is there, it's his position to stay. So get over it. Shape up your self esteem; this political stage upon which Trump will "trickle, twirl, and swirl." Not understanding that they use the Machiavellian approach when interacting with him. Trump is the novice in some off Broadway play, filling in for the Star - trying to unravel his creativity like a producer of a reality show. But! I need to pee so that I do nothing to shame on my wife. I'll have to find a tree, maybe.

Donald Duck....trumping his horn

We all change or "morph" as we experience life's interactions with our peers, or the generalized other, as when one interacts out and about town with others, those cherished personalities. It's especially true for me today because as I was going through my closet's offerings. I came upon a pair of whitish/yellow faded linen pants that I had worn when attending a special wedding between two dear friends. Yes! It was in France in a village in the Dordogne. I wore green socks and sandals, making a 'statement. Don't ask me what it was because it was a long time ago and I can't remember how I feel about last week; never mind, what I trickled, twirled or swirled through those many wonderful days hopping around Europe after attending their occasion: two fantastic people with wonderful open hearts; down to earth,  understanding that it's the moment's outlook while reveling in this special convergence through marriage between loving friends. That is what counts. Now! I'm an Irish 'teetotaler' when I'm back home, you know. But here on the European continent, one is obliged to 'tip the elbow' as they say to  play with the 'local' offerings. For example, Barcelona, Spain has 'Gaudi' and I did taste its, Barcelona's offerings. I was in Lisbon last month, tipping an elbow or two while enjoying the back streets around the city's market places. There were many tasty morsels, one after another as you hopscotch across its horn of plenty. Well, let me tell you about those pants: they fit and they are loose! So it was a monumental moment, knowing there are many more morsels I an eat and many more monuments to see before becoming obscene. I'm only just beginning my 75th year of life in my journey toward normalcy. Please! I'm not the 'naked prince or emperor' you know, for right next to the linen jacket I found one of my old Hawaiian shirts, yellow, tan, green and grey pattern representing the Island. So that, the outfit works like a trio of jacket, pants, shirt. Let me tell you this: it doesn't need the 'gold or silver' thing to work! It fits you know!

Brexit....fxxx -it..

YES! I got caught going into England because I followed the "rules." What do I mean by being caught? Well, Border Force, England's watch dog, is taking back its borders from the influence of the European Union. So what happened? My wife and I had been vacationing in Portugal and Germany; we were coming from Hamburg, Germany on the way to London, England, flying on British Airways Flight 965. We presented ourselves to the customs/passport agent; she decided to seize me and dump my wife in the hall way where she sat waiting for four hours to find out if I was going to be able to enter the country of England. Border Force decided that I was a threat to the people of England; so they put me on the first British Airways plane traveling to the United States without putting my luggage on board the aircraft - therefore causing my luggage to be lost, maybe even stolen from Heathrow Airport, as well as causing great emotional trauma to my wife, who is in her late-sixties. Yes! England's Border Force left my wife waiting for many hours at the airport thinking that I might be able to join her so that we could continue our vacation. At the very last minute, they informed her that they were putting me on British Airways flight 227 to Atlanta, Georgia within a few minutes. I was held incommunicado by the Border Force. At the last minute I was interviewed by one of its agents who asked me to sign a forming stating that I was treated in a very favorable manner. Now at this point I was under the impression that she was going to let me enter London so that my wife and I could continue spending our money, stimulating its economy. Otherwise, I would not have signed their form because I knew that my wife, Jinny, would be under great stress not knowing what was happening.  Sidebar:  My wife Jinny is a professional in her world; she was scheduled to meet Marge the following night, May 8th, at the Lamb and Flag discussing their personal ambitions as they abate the so many options to chose from. Jinny was truly looking forward to this respite between 'sisters' etc., enjoying the ambiance that London is so noted for. No! What really happened was that Jinny had to fend for herself in London waiting all that night. She was in the dark about where I was; she needed to find out where they were shipping me off too; so that, she could make arrangements to join me. Border Force said it was to Atlanta and that is what she thought until she went to a British Airways desk and was told there was no record of me on a flight. She could not stay in London not knowing where I was. Now could she? So here is the Fxxxing kicker: It was my 75th birthday; she wanted to do it "right": 21 days spread out over Portugal, Germany, & England. ending with a "girl's night with an old friend." What did she get:  Extra! Extra! read all about it!: England's Border Force hit another  $1000 dollar a day "tourist" out of the park, over the fence. It's taking back those borders without defining the nature of this new border they call: We are not European Union.  
 

...go, Henry...!

Visiting with others can be strange. With me it is never what it could have been. You Know! It's a thing of socialization.  I never was socialized. What do I mean? Young Henry, who is six years old,  knows the name of every state and its capital like, Boston to Mass. He knows their locations on the map as well as the shape of the state on the map. He is also learning the order in which the states became states. Then he performed on the "Keys," his piano. I was more than impressed. He comes out of a caring family. Sidebar: I'm a 74 year old guy who is intimidated by how much he must have missed because of his socialization or lack there of. Now! Ask if this behavior was ever encouraged in your family or any fact similarly to it? He is more in tune with life than most of us who are out and about today.  OK! I'll admit it; I'm F***ing jealous. But, as is said: "the beat goes on;" Now! Surely, you too can have a companion to be the proverbial  'fall guy' from which you let your voice be heard. It's just a little bit of 'disassociation,' or altered state of consciousness. recognizing a more pleasurable environment to reside in. Rather like the association I had with Bernie, mentor - mentee. Bernie was the Banker behind my production. He financed all of my contracts; otherwise, I never would have qualified for M.D.R.T. status in 1975- million dollar round table in the Insurance world. So! that my image of myself was tethered to Bernie. Bernie was the 'door opener' in those days. He was part of the incrowd. To me he was the incrowd. Therefore, if little Henry's brain stays on course, when he gets to the incrowd, he will be GOD.  - because his family of origin is being a -mentor mentee- an environment of creativity that fosters understanding. Yes! Like Henry's family.                   

knowing...

the unattainable "lie"...lies at my feet in the form of a gracious dock's presence in my visual cortex. So! If I cannot attain it what do I do to attenuate it. My neighbor has a dock on the Ashley river; it cuts my view of the landing place of the town's heritage. Yes! I love the view -dock or no dock- but I want to covet my neighbor's dock like a man covets his desire, visiting daily if I could  onto its deck, viewing its view. It's a marvelous view. Yet, I know that if I knew the secret ( there is always a secret) - I would have my knowing that I was forgiven for the stench of much fury upon me because of a devious sense of privilege, class. It's the Southern way or the highway. It's their way of interpreting the constitution. It's out to repeal the reconstruction construct laid upon it after the Civil war between the North and the South. For, as you can see, as far as the South is concerned, the North never did understand the intricacy of Class. For example, there is an expression out & about in society today that goes something like this: ..."I can not see it from my house"...as a response to the dilemma at hand.  Self best interest is flourishing in the Southern mind set. Yes! as said by Updike, "you can't get there from here." Its there form of class war fare: if you are a felon then you deserve to be treated as a felon like the South thought it was being treated; you know, like because they lost the war, they were shunned as felons too.  

    

...Self...!

We all want what we want when we want it, Right! I like to express it this way: It's its it. Another way of expressing it: ...imagine if you will "Tacking" a picture of your dream on the mirror that you use at home. Yes! The real you; tacitly exposing your emotions, waiting for the perfect moment to expose your commitment to being measured by others, competition.  I say get over it; pass the gas that simmers within, live for whoever you are that day. Yes! So if you -tack on it- you get tacit approval from the generalized others. Now there is no guilt when dealing with others because each of us is into one's  -self best interest. If you seize  the idea; it evolves in real time because that is when others in the market place start to mimic your style as if it were their style at the onset.  They're ready, willing, and able to replicate this action, getting in on the ground floor, so- to -speak. Sidebar: I'm thinking about the word -tacit, implied but not apparent.  You are looking into the bathroom mirror gazing on the picture of your dream. Now! If I were the genie with the gifts; do you believe that you could occupy that space if your dream came true today?  for example,  could you walk into "Wally's world" dressed to a T. suspending your disbelief in inequality. Maybe you could change the "picture" on the mirror for one more suitable in its reality.
         

...point of view...

 I think of Shakespeare as a metaphor to my "Memoir," which is unfurling on today's stage. My blog: ...the black market.me. This is where I tell my side of the story of my life, from my point of view. I'm the kid who shined shoes at the corner barber shop. Ran groceries at the A&P on moody street. It's no longer there. Eaten up by eCommerce's  way of capitalizing its range & domain over food production; for, the world's stage of consumption.  This is me in all of my complicity offering up to you my opinion about life in my "world." Yes! For sure! You too are just as unique as I am; that is to say, you bring to the table those experiences you encountered with others, like yourself; realizing that they too are different. We are all different, but as said by one of the Masters,"...yet part of the main...no man is an Island unto himself...." For example, I feel compassion for the Don in Narco. He did what he did because he was formatted as is said. His lessons in life came out of poverty. His socialization propelled him out of poverty, financial poverty; not social poverty. You can -if you tried too- see it through his -point of view. Rules of the road or street, it's your willingness to surrender your disbelief; this is said by mentors to the Arts. You Know! enjoy the movie as a willing participant, not as a critic. Remembering a toxic home in a toxic environment creates toxicity. Pablo was a product of poverty. It taught him how to survive and progress because he was one of them; he was a product of the elite's; they ruled with a police state attitude; it directed his actions in-turn this education, O.J.T on the job training. he got their version of Ragan's "trickle down  hypothesis." eCommerce the Colombian way. this is where he clashed, not fit in with the elites. Side bar: it was the 'consumers' of his services which governed his entrepreneurial dreams of being a Colombian Don.  Pablo's cocaine. As you know, guns do not kill, people kill.