tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19507985058954876542024-03-21T21:22:43.618-07:00BLAHG, BLAHG, BLAHG!!!I like to BLAHG!!!Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-2080282743657135852020-03-06T10:40:00.000-08:002020-03-10T11:10:55.140-07:00Films, Motion Pictures & MOVIES!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEzmcuQlUIvABwR35bc5TiJCu66nzXnAuUk66YrR6_l0dkwUsbWq8x1De6vbxEYACJ5o-1JovUgJj3lX1JStcjVpHfM5BBPyGjZM2ECwpvQU0_ZbiN_42cbcoEpqfN7ylFsmHpaB5DoB0/s1600/filmstrip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="820" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEzmcuQlUIvABwR35bc5TiJCu66nzXnAuUk66YrR6_l0dkwUsbWq8x1De6vbxEYACJ5o-1JovUgJj3lX1JStcjVpHfM5BBPyGjZM2ECwpvQU0_ZbiN_42cbcoEpqfN7ylFsmHpaB5DoB0/s640/filmstrip.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Immediately, by my use of the term "movies", you know I am not a Film Snob. I also did not grow up in the era before "movies". Even as I write this, Blogger is questioning my use of the term by underlining it with a red squiggly line, but that's what I call them, movies! So, sue me if you don't like it.<br />
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People used to only see celebrities in still shots printed in magazines before the age of television. Then, they would go see them at the "movie theater", after hearing about it on the radio. Nobody ever called them Film Theatres, did they? The word "film" is really a description of the medium by which we are enabled to view "movies" rather than it being a description of the experience of watching still pictures transformed into motion. So, I'm sticking with "movies", but I am not opposed to calling them motion pictures. For the "purists" out there that insist on using the word "film", why don't you just call the Internet, "wires", or something like that too?<br />
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It's not every day, or even every week, I get to watch movies. I don't have access to them because of my lifestyle. But, when I do watch movies, I binge. That's mainly because when I watch movies, I have the opportunity to lay around and do nothing, which is exactly what happened this past week. I cannot remember every movie I watched as I did not make any notes, but these are the ones that come to mind as I try to remember. I list MA last because I was a little uncomfortable watching it after the first few minutes unsure if this was a movie intended for kids, and I'm not sure about this either, but I think I'm just a big kid. Psych!<br />
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I kept watching because the one person I recognized in the entire movie was Juliette Lewis in the opening scene. She was the hook, and, being media deprived, I honestly didn't know her by name until I just now looked her up as I'm writing this. Sorry, I guess I should have said "typing" this!<br />
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Turns out, it's a horror film that doesn't get horrifying until the end. After watching it, I'm not at all ashamed to say so and it wasn't horrible! It seems a little cheesy until you understand the psychological damage done to Sue Ann in her earlier, childhood life in a small town, but it wasn't horrible. It was really sad and it made me want to cry, but I didn't. I spent the entire movie wondering why the heck would this black woman keep buying these white kids booze?<br />
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I'll leave it at that.<br />
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In the order in which I remember them, here are the movies I watched this week during my vacation from the streets which also hold entertainment value in an entirely different way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTWxC1VbH2oU3s_rcZXtGFwTJGMY-Sh-JcPUA4pNFNrvGncIlP77w5MsvkN6vS5sGdRl3AqdR-Vo9d5dTfJHIsnCef3g9WCrXTDPY_M2sSrUDjEZqqKjNrEcaOACPmH8pe1gosKk9rPym/s1600/long+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPTWxC1VbH2oU3s_rcZXtGFwTJGMY-Sh-JcPUA4pNFNrvGncIlP77w5MsvkN6vS5sGdRl3AqdR-Vo9d5dTfJHIsnCef3g9WCrXTDPY_M2sSrUDjEZqqKjNrEcaOACPmH8pe1gosKk9rPym/s200/long+shot.jpg" width="112" /></a></div>
<b>Long Shot (2019)</b><br />
<i>Seth Rogen/Charlize Theron</i><br />
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Congratulations Seth Rogen! Who knew a pot head who dropped out of school would end up in a "movie" where Charlize Theron would be your romantic partner. I'm old and out of shape, but I worked out for most of my life until I finally quit. Apparently, you've never worked out and that should bring us all hope. By the way, I was a pot head too. Now, after two or three days of it, it just makes me worthless. I'm considering cocaine, but I find if I just go sober, I feel much better. As irrelevant as that may be, I applaud you for using your active mind to create a fictitious setting where you were really able to work with her. I enjoyed the show, and agree we need to save the trees, and the plastic bags aren't doing it as we thought they would a long time ago.<br />
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<b>Spanglish (2004)</b><br />
<i>Adam Sandler/Tea Leoni/Paz Vega</i><br />
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This is probably the first Adam Sandler movie I've seen that wasn't just goofy. A serious story, relevant to our times especially as it relates to the issue of immigration and neurotic white women named "Nancy". It is injected with Sandler style humor, but an "adult film" if you will. Actually, it's an "adult movie", because adult "film" just sounds gross. Film is something you have to clean in the shower. Nonetheless, I never heard of Paz Vega before and unlike the other movies I am referencing, I only mentioned the actors I recognized. Because she was the central character, I mentioned her name. What I really want to know is how you cross the border on foot and end up in Malibu where your daughter is awarded a scholarship to a private school without any real conflict with authorities at all. Did I miss something? Oh. I know. It's a MOVIE GABE!<br />
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<b>The Adjustment Bureau (2011)</b><br />
<i>Matt Damon/Emily Blunt</i><br />
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The last time I was able to binge watch HBO was Christmas time, 2019 where I occasionally house/pet sit for my good friend the Captain and his wife as they travel. As I reflect, the only movie I remember watching at that time was a Matt Damon movie called Suburbicon and it was great, but The Adjustment Bureau was right up my alley, considering my own psycho-spiritual journey. Never have I experienced anything like this movie projects, but it captivated me since in 2004 I asked God to let me know <i>him</i> like a cave man, before there were any books ever written about him. This movie never mentions God. Instead, we have the Chairman, but it's one of those stories that makes you think outside the box which is kind of the same thing as wanting to know God like a cave man, without any books. Which is also kind of like finding out Emily Blunt's name and that she can dance too. That wasn't a double was it?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJEmSC8OXNREg1LStfW_6xp67H3T7R-M-GONMb9y5j317pqV9tFG0W7ivAKNzoM4oIMsLkQzjmHpW0RR2e54vjD2wLLKf8FWEPFQGnsP7vRqlDUyG410crzV_pm9Jl_OgdBFKPBqO66k8/s1600/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJEmSC8OXNREg1LStfW_6xp67H3T7R-M-GONMb9y5j317pqV9tFG0W7ivAKNzoM4oIMsLkQzjmHpW0RR2e54vjD2wLLKf8FWEPFQGnsP7vRqlDUyG410crzV_pm9Jl_OgdBFKPBqO66k8/s200/cake.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b>Cake (2014)</b><br />
<i>Jennifer Anniston/Anna Kendrick</i><br />
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Another serious story with a funny person I had only known in a comedic way. Like Sandler, it was really great to see Jennifer Anniston in this roll, although it was kind of hard to watch even though it was an act. The funny woman still had her sense of humor and smiles, especially as she was trying to con her doctor out of more Percs and Oxycontin and whatever else. Among other things, she was dealing with not only addiction, but "hallucinations" of Anna Kendrick portraying another loss of life and source of grief, perhaps generated by her character's drug abuse. The pills are killing too many in this country today. I know from first hand experience about this, but it's not just the pills. Life is hard, especially when you've lost a child, or two, or three, or four. The psychological impact suffered in losing a loved one, especially your offspring, is without doubt a form of PTSD, but in the end if we are going to move forward after feeling "ripped off", some cake would be in order!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFy2PvLyFTuSXaT9YxSh_xi-sBXtngKHDGg1Guqt1A39chqZNc33yFnKUniJfgkXYkBjQtqJ2RiIrVYGGyVa-5AvNm1BQvhKBWMa6hjg-geuLJqxhB0tSkwBd-bL2Cp5phQfrWINaR4X-s/s1600/ku.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="311" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFy2PvLyFTuSXaT9YxSh_xi-sBXtngKHDGg1Guqt1A39chqZNc33yFnKUniJfgkXYkBjQtqJ2RiIrVYGGyVa-5AvNm1BQvhKBWMa6hjg-geuLJqxhB0tSkwBd-bL2Cp5phQfrWINaR4X-s/s200/ku.jpg" width="139" /></a></div>
<b>Knocked Up (2007)</b><br />
<i>Seth Rogen/Katherine Heigl</i><br />
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Again, Seth Rogen in a RomCom with another beautiful woman you'd never imagine being with a pot head! With all due respect, and as a former pot head, now severely out of shape, I'm just happy to look okay in my clothes! No offense man, but if I ever made it in Hollywood, I'd hit the gym! Other than that, I think you're very funny, most of the time. It's like Carolla though. You always gotta throw the fart jokes in there! At least, you made her do it!<br />
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<b>UPGRADE (2018)</b><br />
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With only a 5 million dollar budget, it's not surprising that I didn't know a single actor in this techno thriller, but I was hooked from the start by the self-driving cars. I don't have enough trust in these machines to take a ride in one and you soon find out why. Of course, a crash occurs and the story ensues. I'm one of those people, like most, who use computers and technology, but I'm no techy. I'm just always amazed by our reliance on technology we offer up so freely. I have complained that many techies have a God complex, and are busy trying to create the perfect world, according to them<b>. </b>Sort of a form of fascism, especially when it doesn't work, but what ever does exactly as we want? While I value technology, it seems like whenever I need it the most, it fails. You know... try to print out a resume when you need it! This cautionary tale is definitely one I'm glad I caught and would certainly recommend to others. Just be careful out there. Technology is everywhere, and for some it is within.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfarq-sxEPl5JOi_SxfIQMol3P138LLohZwZf17MGitSINUBRKR05L4Lgq-4AJjmvT9pTvSz4oGwuxEItXDGFH5srN16PqlgYP-my04EQHvS37rl42XLr0b-phyphenhyphennOz_MFpMIp9SpEhSS1/s1600/un.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="342" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfarq-sxEPl5JOi_SxfIQMol3P138LLohZwZf17MGitSINUBRKR05L4Lgq-4AJjmvT9pTvSz4oGwuxEItXDGFH5srN16PqlgYP-my04EQHvS37rl42XLr0b-phyphenhyphennOz_MFpMIp9SpEhSS1/s200/un.jpg" width="159" /></a></div>
<b>UNBREAKABLE (2000)</b><br />
<i>Bruce Willis/Samuel L. Jackson</i><b> </b><br />
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Reminiscent of Sixth Sense, I couldn't stop watching this one either. I don't see dead people, but I have dreamt of dead people a couple of times including the time I was in a limousine with Dwayne, my driver going down Wilshire Blvd. for a meeting with Clint Eastwood in his office. In the lobby was the cast from Taxi, the TV show. I met everyone and shook their hands, except for Bobby who popped up unexpectedly. That's when I headed for Mr. Eastwood's office! He was filming a movie about a giant alien that was terrorizing a small town. The guy that owned the town had wired it up for sound and even vibrations. It kept the people terrified and him in control. This is really no different than the Wizard of Oz concept where until you look behind the curtain, you are fooled, even in a dream. Dreams are like that though, especially when they seem real. It's when the crossover occurs between our dreams and reality is when we might see things differently than the ways we have been taught. Super Heroes are often based upon less than super human people that might have some extraordinary attributes. UNBREAKABLE carries on the tradition, and brings comics to life. Why else would Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson be the two main stars?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeiHP2voUIIel4B4TUlkBB9BUcyKf6G6CRE9RvTwDYYEenfFVoE3pkBbTIzGqjbJEubYenKvahNiDM8svI1uMHs5i4ZZlFeDxpzAEXkQmUYu4fsdKUAOu8Bz9vDXd1MDv1rwLouoCHci8/s1600/zoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="138" data-original-width="364" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeiHP2voUIIel4B4TUlkBB9BUcyKf6G6CRE9RvTwDYYEenfFVoE3pkBbTIzGqjbJEubYenKvahNiDM8svI1uMHs5i4ZZlFeDxpzAEXkQmUYu4fsdKUAOu8Bz9vDXd1MDv1rwLouoCHci8/s320/zoo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b> The Zookeeper's Wife (2017)</b><br />
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Once again, let me remind you, I am media deprived. Certainly, with the level of talent in this "movie", I should know some of their names. Jessica Chastain? Johan Heldenbergh? I am ignorant, but that doesn't mean I didn't appreciate watching this Holocaust story where hundreds of kids were hidden and saved by the Zookeeper and his wife. Holocaust movies are hard. The Jewish people were never portrayed as filthy like some street people. They were never portrayed as ill mannered, like some street people. They were never portrayed as uneducated, like some street people. They were just hated because they were Jews. With the rise of nationalism in the US by white supremacists, the ironic part of it all is that the modern KKK, Nazis aren't wearing hoods, and ANTIFA is. I don't know what to make of it. It's like we're living in a ZOO!<br />
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<a href="https://www.annefrank.org/en/anne-frank/go-in-depth/why-did-hitler-hate-jews/" target="_blank">https://www.annefrank.org/en/anne-frank/go-in-depth/why-did-hitler-hate-jews/</a><br />
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<b>Thank You for Smoking (2005)</b><br />
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While I recognized many faces in this one, the only one I could name is Katie Holmes. It is a star studded task, but I don't know any of their names. This movie is important to understand what it means to be an American where we don't live under a theocracy, or authoritarian rule. Yes, smoking is bad. Should it be illegal? No. Why is marijuana illegal then? We always aim to create a more perfect union because we have yet to get their. As in the Quality movement that once appeared in corporate America, Quality was viewed as a journey and not a destination. So, marijuana is illegal. Cigarettes were attacked over alcohol and guns and in the end they remained legal, as they should be. If you don't like smoking, don't smoke. Likewise, I guess I've become a liberal, but if you don't believe in abortion, don't have one. We don't need girls using coat hangers anymore than we need them using abortion as a form of birth control by having multiple abortions. We don't need the government telling us we can't smoke. So, again, why is marijuana illegal?<br />
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<b>The Island (2005)</b><br />
<b>Scarlett Johansson/Ewan McGregor</b><br />
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I caught a portion of this before around Christmas time, but it was more toward the end of the movie and I did not understand what it was about. However, I caught it this time right up front. Ohhhh Nooo, Clones! Nobody would complain if Scarlett Johansson was cloned and there were a bunch of Scar Jos running around, but not to farm her for organs for goodness sake! One of my several and earliest celebrity dreams included Scar Jo. I was lying back with my head on my back pack, on a grassy hill on a beautiful day when she appeared like an angel. She only said four words, "You need more time". It was the next day I had a court date. I showed up for what I thought was going to be a routine appearance only to be sentenced to six months in the county jail! I guess that's what she was telling me in the dream. Six months in the county jail is a long time, but not as long as some of the clones had to wait to go to The Island. Some had been in the facility for years and complained of their wait, but if they promise you an island, you might not want to get your hopes up. In fact, you might want to appreciate the time you have not being called as the "winner" to go to the Island. It's really just not worth your time!<br />
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<b>MA (2019)</b><br />
<i>Juliette Lewis</i><br />
<br />
I've
already said my piece about this, but I am reminded of a story from the
Bible I just referenced as I finish this up bouncing back and forth
from a discussion on the Last Week Tonight with John Oliver page. When
Jesus was at the wedding in Cana and they ran out of wine, Mary, his
mother, came to him telling him of the predicament to which he
immediately responded with, "Woman! How does this concern me?". No.
Mary did not slap him. Instead, she told the <i>servants</i> at the event to do what he said. What did Jesus then do? Basically, after he told the <i>servants</i>
to bring urns of water, he said, "Ok, MA", and then he turned the water
into wine. I'm just don't think he made it for the kids.<br />
<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
So, that's it! My movie reviews from Last Week, Today! I have often said, since there are so many movies I have never seen to the point when people ask me if I've seen a certain movie and I haven't, with their astonishment, I feel like if there is more to heaven than simply singing eternal praises to our Creator, I'll have plenty of time to watch all the movies I've never seen! See you there!<br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-33143024633254320472020-02-06T10:32:00.000-08:002020-02-08T07:38:46.806-08:00Irainy<div data-contents="true">
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<span data-offset-key="6qcfp-0-0"><span data-text="true">On this, what must be the rainiest day I can remember after thirteen years on the streets, I once again am confronted with the irony that seems to be the substance of life.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="e0r5i-0-0"><span data-text="true">I honestly prayed to the God I am so often angry with last night that there would be a break in the rain in the morning between 7 and 8am. Some street people talk to imaginary people on broken telephones. I understand this. In contrast, I talk to a God who never says anything and could therefore be classified as imginary. Yet, this morning, after a solid night of rain where I did not get wet though I was not indoors, I woke up just in time to make the walk up the North Avenue hill to my appointment at the Homeless Day Service Center to enroll in the housing program, again.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">My appointment was at 10:30am. The day center doesn't open until 10am. So, with my finger in the air, and my eyes on the skies, I made the decision to go in that direction skipping breakfast at the 1st Baptist Church, home of Our Daily Bread now managed by Downtown Ministries, a local non-profit that thankfully took over after the sudden departure by Action Ministries who had managed the community kitchen for years. It was ok because I still have a balance on my EBT card and was able to get some food at the convenience store. It's not organic, and it is full of processed food, but the luxury of an organic diet is not afforded to those walking the streets. I would gladly eat hummus and veggies for just about any meal, but it's not quite as simple as desire for a street person. So, you take what you can get. In my case, as far as a convenience store diet goes, I would hope for a simple bean and cheese burrito, but that is also not as simple as desire. Call me weird, but I'd rather eat beans for breakfast than grits and eggs anyway.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">That is really beside the point. I got to the Department of Labor right at 8am. I don't have a watch, or a phone, but I could tell from the sunrise it was about that time and sure enough as soon as I walked up to the door where two other people were waiting outside, the doors opened. That's good timing. I needed to check in to email and look for job leads appropriate for people without housing, and personal transportation units until 10am when the HDSC opens. A quick check of the weather indicated that at 10am it was going to be raining like mad. At 9:19am I heard the rain coming down on the roof of the DOL one level building. Without even getting up to look outside, I knew it was very heavy.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">Just before 10am, the security guard announced there was a tornado warning in effect, meaning a tornado had been sighted somewhere nearby and with the front moving at 55 miles per hour it could be here quickly if it were within a couple of miles. A few seconds later one of the DOL staff members came out and declared we should evacuate the main area and head for shelter in the interior of the building, which we all did. She said we could stay if we wanted to, but to follow security otherwise. All I knew is I had an appointment and if I didn't keep it, it would mean rescheduling and with a black mark next to my name, IF indeed the appointment was even going to be maintained by the people at the HDSC since we were in the midst of a tornado warning.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">The warning was in effect until 10:15am, which came and went, but they still had us in the secured area. Someone made a phone call and was talking to whomever they were talking to when I heard him say it had stopped raining. My sense of time is pretty good without a watch and I knew it was getting close to 10:30am. The HDSC is just about 100 yards away. The woman at the door had just announced we had three minutes until the warning was officially over with, which didn't make any sense to me because she had originally said 10:15am. The guy with the phone turned on WSB. The weather man announced Athens-Clarke county would be cleared in about 50 seconds. I made my break telling the staffer I had an appointment I had to keep. She didn't even try to keep me there. It was my discretion to leave. All I knew was that I can't stand crowds and groups, especially when we are enclosed in a room full of filing cabinets and it's hot.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">I made my way out the door and indeed the rain had stopped. As I marched across the soggy grass in my Steve Madden's that really don't leak, I closed in on my destination. I walked in the door precisely at 10:30am asking the guy at the desk if they were keeping appointments. He asked me my name and when I told him, he snapped his fingers as if he really was surprised to see me! Within a minute my case worker appeared and we adjourned to her office and did the intake procedures. Turns out I was best suited for the Rapid Re-housing program which I was also best suited for the last time I was enrolled. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">It basically means you can live in a place of your choosing to a degree, but you are required to work. I am more than willing to work, but as any street person will tell you, a large portion of each day is spent "working" on eating and bathing. If not for social programs like Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, I would have missed a meal while in search of housing on this, the rainiest day I can remember in my time doing this daily shuffle.</span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">One of the questions they ask you is if you have ever prostituted yourself in order to get housing. I answered certainly, not. However, I continued explaining that just yesterday a woman at the soup kitchen I had never seen there before showed up and asked me if we were having catfish for lunch, just before she asked me if I had a job. I thought both questions were strange, but there's plenty of strange at the soup kitchen. Her next question was whether I could help her "move her bed" so she could clean out underneath it. Trying to be courteous and take her literally, I said, "Sure", with a sprained ankle and all, but she walked on a cane and had false teeth. </span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">My imagination kicked in and without being rude, I did not try to continue the conversation. I knew it was going to rain like cats and dogs last night and today, but was I willing to "prostitute" myself? Perhaps, I was reading too much into her question and she really did just need help "moving her bed". Regardless, I fell asleep as the rain began to fall last night around 9pm, and woke up this morning to this "irainy", and what, in hindsight, seems to be a real Tornado Touchdown! </span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">...</span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true">Previous Post:</span></span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="ss8t-0-0"><span data-text="true"><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2020/01/trumpmares.html" target="_blank">TrumpMares</a> </span></span></div>
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-39473328347348670782020-01-10T10:59:00.000-08:002020-02-07T09:07:56.715-08:00TrumpMares<br />
Over the past decade, as I've mentioned before, and have written many words about, I have had several dreams about celebrities, and three different presidents. I make the distinction because celebrities all have talents for the entertainment industry. They are either singers, dancers, actors, or all three at once. Our current president is not a celebrity because he doesn't possess any of these talents. He may be famous, but he is not a celebrity. He just wants to be one so bad, he refers to his constituents as "fans" as one photograph I saw yesterday indicated. Fans may drool, but Trump people tend to foam at the mouth. See the difference?<br />
<br />
Two presidents I have had dreams about are Jimmy Carter, I referred to as the Quintessential Georgian, and Barack Obama who I briefly met in the Rose Garden right after I had, in reality, landed on the streets. I didn't even have a cell phone at the time, but in the dream, the newly elected President Obama reached in his coat pocket, pulled out his cell phone and handed it to me saying, "Call me".<br />
<br />
It was at that moment I left the gathering at the White House and proceeded to walk down the street, when I thought to myself... How am I going to call him, if I have his cell phone, duh?!? I then called the switch board and began to explain to the White House receptionist (Or, with all due respect, whatever prestigious title one would have in that position) what had just happened when the dream abruptly ended and I woke up.<br />
<br />
These dreams of celebrities and presidents are always sober dreams, meaning I hadn't been drinking. They are also lucid dreams and I wake up thinking I was really somewhere else for a moment, but I don't believe that to be the case. It just feels like I was in another place. Let me just make it clear that none of them have been sex dreams. They do seem to have all been connected to stressful times like losing my apartment and/or a job, or street life, or incarceration, or cold weather, but, they are not sexual.<br />
<br />
So, while I did not intend to mention Selena Gomez in this post, I will, since I just read she released a new album today called Rare. The only significance Selena Gomez has in relation to these lucid dreams is I have had more than one dream where she appeared. The same is true for Donald Trump, and I'm really getting sick and tired of this guy showing up in my dream space!!!<br />
<br />
In fact, the first time he showed up was probably a year ago, where before he could utter a word (thankfully), he disappeared after I told him to get out of my dream space! The second time was probably just a month ago when he showed up again. I was sitting in the Oval Office with him at his desk, not a word was spoken. He just slid some kind of document across the top of the desk with a pen as if he wanted me to sign it. I refused to sign by only my shaking head. The dream, a short one, abruptly ended, which is often the case with dreams.<br />
<br />
But, last night in my sober state, here he comes again, only this was a long one. I woke up, and fell back asleep, only to return to it again, over the course of about seven hours. Let me preface this by saying I do not have any religious affiliation after many years of torment from my exposure to religion. But, it just so happened that I was attending a retreat of some kind with a group from the United Methodist Church. It was that specific. There were families there and we were having a buffet dinner including spaghetti, but a full spread even without the noodles! I hadn't met any of these people before. So, they were introducing me around, when I decided to pitch in with the food preparation. They needed some water to boil the spaghetti.<br />
<br />
I took the empty pot to the kitchen area in what was some kind of clubhouse and filled it with water. After I returned with the pot of water everybody was busy doing something, including two young women who had testing strips to be sure the water was not toxic, or contaminated. I guess boiling it would have made it safe, but who knows? I had never been there before.<br />
<br />
They needed another pot filled with water. I returned to the kitchen to fill the next pot, when I found the sink had overflowed and water was spreading all over the floor into the next room. One of the guys came in at the same time and just said, "Don't worry, don't worry. We have a shop vac right there", as one of the kids turned the corner seeing what had happened pointed out there were three shop vacs indeed, but assured me to use the one on the floor closest to me because it worked best. Apparently, this was the kid's dad who was there when I walked into the situation. He said, "I got it Gabe".<br />
<br />
I was like, "Are you sure?"<br />
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He just said, "Yeah, yeah, I got it. It's ok".<br />
<br />
Well, wouldn't you know, when I got back to the buffet table, one of the women was having trouble opening a jar of spaghetti sauce. She asked me if I could open it. <br />
<br />
I told her, "I'll try, but my hand strength isn't what it used to be". I took the jar and gave it a twist and with a pop the lid came right off along with about half the jar spewing out, of course, all over me!<br />
<br />
We were supposed to go somewhere. I can't remember where, but probably to church. Now, I'm covered in spaghetti sauce! Fortunately, I had my back pack, and a change of clothes inside. But, it was already getting late and all the other food was on the table ready to eat, when they decided we didn't need any spaghetti anyway.<br />
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I said, "You guys go ahead. I'll just stay here and clean up, and change my clothes. <br />
<br />
They said, "You don't have to do that. Katie is coming by to clean up the spread. She always does. She oversees the property, she'll get you a ride over, but get yourself something to eat first".<br />
<br />
Everybody made their way out and I went to change my clothes. When I came back out, Katie was already there cleaning up the mess. She said, "Hi Gabe! I've already called for your ride. They should be here shortly. Grab some food before you go", which I did as we just laughed in discussion about the whole scene from the water to the sauce!<br />
<br />
Moments later, the door opened and a voice called out for Katie to which she responded, "We're in here". I was just finishing up my plate. My bag was on the floor. I apologized for the mess and she just reassured it was fine.<br />
<br />
I shook the man's hand who came to pick me up as we exchanged the usual pleasantries and we made our way outside. Low and behold, as we rounded the corner from the serving area, standing there he was, Donald J. Trump, once again invading my dream space! Persistent muther, isn't he?<br />
<br />
I couldn't believe it! So, I just breezed on by him as if he didn't exist and made my way out the door. I remembered when I came into the building, the porch was a little creaky. The president followed me out. As he did, I told him "Be careful, the porch is weak", kinda like him...<br />
<br />
In fact, as he took a step, he tripped, fell down and started crawling on his knees... Not just one knee, ok? The driver and the other man came and helped him up, and into the back of the black crew cab they rolled up in. They must have been Secret Service. I got in the other side. That meant, I was sitting right next to him.<br />
<br />
He started blabbing, blab, blab, blab, sad, sad sad, yada, yada, yada, but I'm pretty sure he mentioned his ratings. He said he was sorry for all the stupidity he had brought to this presidency, including this latest penis war he started.<br />
<br />
"Are you really telling us this", I asked. As I turned toward him to look at him in disbelief, I could see the tears flowing from his eyes. Maybe he does have some talent after all, I thought. The driver then said to me, "Tell 'em to lighten up Gabe". I just didn't say anything. I was so disgusted I couldn't wait to get out of the truck. It was only a short drive to the church. Upon arrival, I immediately exited the vehicle. He couldn't even walk. So, they got him a wheelchair, conveniently located in the back of the truck. Without a goodbye, they rolled him off into the night, disappearing, as if they were never there.<br />
<br />
As I made my way to the door the man who had been there when the water overflowed, said, "Gabe, I called Katie and left a message, because she didn't pick up. Did she send the movie with you", he asked.<br />
<br />
I said, "No, she didn't, but if you wanna hear a story, I got one for you!"<br />
<br />
Then, a set of head lights approached from the drive we had just rolled across. It was Katie. She got out of the car and announced, "Here's your movie", only we weren't at a church. We were at the same clubhouse with the buffet and I... I was still wearing my clothes covered in spaghetti sauce!Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-72433456607537591232019-10-31T07:37:00.001-07:002019-11-01T05:30:37.159-07:00Homeless & Hopeless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span id="goog_2044365073"></span><span id="goog_2044365074"></span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073">One more reason you can add to this cartoon, of the reasons people are homeless, is under education. This has largely developed with the advent of technology. Sure, even homeless people have smart phones, but are the technologically astute?</span><br />
<br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"> </span><span id="goog_2044365073">Most under educated people were left behind with the advent of technology. In fact, they have basically been left for dead. The solution to end homelessness seems to be to let them die. I am one of them and I don't have a smart phone. I don't have a computer. At this point, I don't even have a dumb phone as I woke up one morning about a month ago to a large spider on my sleeve. Immediately, I got up, brushed the spider off and high tailed it outta there, only to realize later that my phone was no longer in my pocket. When I returned to retrieve my phone, it was gone.</span><br />
<br />
<span id="goog_2044365073">Communication is one very important part of success. Without a phone, people are at a disadvantage, but a phone of any kind is not the difference between success and failure. Things like transportation are also part of the equation. Things like clothing are essential. And, above all, housing is essential for success.Without adequate housing, one is hard pressed to make any significant strides toward success. Instead, you are left to the daily shuffle, the daily grind, the daily clown parade of people spending almost a third of each twenty four hour day just trying to stay clean and fed. And, this time is spent during prime working hours since homeless resources are not available at night, except for the shelters that immediately shove you out early in the morning; rain, or shine. The system seems to think we're all just lazy, especially from the conservative bent.</span><br />
<br />
<span id="goog_2044365073">If shelters offered phone banks and computer access, something positively remarkable might be said. But, they don't. They offer a place to sleep and a meal, and that's about it. Recently, one particular shelter has started a jobs program which is great, but pushing for sustainable living on wages that hardly support that vision.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">As a corporate drop out, or <i>dropped </i>out, I'm not really sure where to go from here. In my highest earning years, I had all the things one might take for granted like housing, transportation, communication tools... But, when those things no longer exist, re-obtaining them is just about, if not flat out impossible. So, as one who had all of those things, it sets me apart from most of the homeless population that are under educated and never had a great foundation for success. I had all that. So, I have greater blame than others who are not only under educated, but of an obstreperous flock. Unruly and greedy, like vultures they pounce on food provided by either faith based organizations, or by state agencies. It becomes a recurring daily effort where the only thing anybody is really getting done is to consume enough food to keep one's pants up. Of course, these days, it seems to be fashionable to walk around with your pants down.</span><br />
<br />
<span id="goog_2044365073">After a decade of hope that I would rise above these circumstances, I never imagined myself being in, my hope is nearly gone. You can begin to resign yourself to these conditions as being the state of existence for the rest of your life. Nobody is coming to rescue you. And, then there is a jobs program that offers you a place to stay and transportation, but for a trained professional, the job opportunities are limited unless you want to take up a new career and become a welder. I can't even see my toenails anymore. What kind of welder would I make?</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">So, I checked in to a Healthcare Access Representative program. It requires two to three semesters of education, and then once you obtain employment you can begin earning money. Besides the nursing program, this is the only other professional program offered. It is appropriate for me based upon my work history, but do I have time for this? Will it lift me out of poverty?</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">Looking back, it is clear, as I have already told myself and others, I squandered my opportunities and the very foundation I had set for me by my parents and by the state who afforded me affordable student loans, and grants to go to college. I graduated with a C average going to night school and working full time for most of my college experience. See, if you start bearing children while you're still a student, you have another set of responsibilities to take care of. Add to that environmental allergies and antihistamines, beer and the Bible, and a severe case of ADD , undiagnosed, and you have quite a blur you're dealing with. So, while my problem with being homeless is not education, mental illness was.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">Religion will boggle your mind if you dive in deep as I did. Most people take it lightly. Not me. I dove in head first and then couldn't make sense of it all especially when compared to American culture. It has led me to the conclusion that all religious people suffer from cognitive dissonance, but live in denial about it. We say we believe things but act in a contrary manner against those beliefs. In Christianity, that is where grace comes in, but until you realize that, you will beat yourself up in guilt clouded with confusion... And, allergies, sneezes and <i>dope </i>that makes you sleep. If you're sleeping, rather than sneezing, when you wake up, it starts all over again. A vicious cycle that can lead a ten year old child to want to commit suicide.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">Then, there are the voices, or the voice, at first. It is a still small voice I first heard at the age of eighteen. I was getting ready to go outside and wash my car. I was lying on my bed about to get up when this little voice from inside my head said, "You're going to be the president".</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">I argued, "No, I'm not. They'll just shoot me". It was at that time, I had already developed a distaste for corporate America because of the styrofoam boxes McDonald's used to serve their burgers in. You would see them all over the roadside. I was always taught not to litter and I still don't to this day. I learned to despise companies that just didn't seem to care about the environment. They'll just shoot me, I thought against the voice. It ceased never to be heard again until probably seven years later, when once again I was on my bed.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">As I sat there on what must have been a Saturday afternoon, it came again. It said, "You're a believer in Jesus Christ". I did not argue with that. That, I embraced and that led to my reading the Bible which I had never done before. Though, I would have still called myself a Christian as I cracked open a cold beer. I don't have a problem with Christians who drink beer. But, in the South, drinking is frowned upon by what is predominantly Evangelical community of believers.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">Time went by again, and I didn't hear that voice again until probably a couple of years later. That's when it got kind of scary and even confusing. I will not divulge what that voice began to say as I would drive home from work many days. It was at that point I began to ignore it, or try to brush it off. I did not like what it was saying and I didn't believe it either. That was thirty years ago. Later in life, as recently as five years ago now, I noticed there were others who had apparently received the same message. That eased my conscience, but it began to make me question the legitimacy of what that voice was telling people. It was as clear as could be. It was not my imagination. And, I cannot prove that to anyone. I take a risk now by even mentioning it, but this comes at a time when the voice and the voices have long since ceased after years of intense struggle beginning in 2004 to 2007, I adamantly told them to "shut up", which they did, but only after almost driving me to suicide again.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">Thankfully, I had a guide through this time of trial. The voices expanded from my head, which I knew that's where they were coming from. They weren't external, until the radio and the TV began talking to me, and I'm not talking about how it is when you're in church and the preacher is preaching a sermon you think is intended specifically for you. I'm talking about clear, personal communication. It was so direct, I decided to test it one day after weeks of hearing one particular commercial on the radio. Without going into detail, my visit to this particular business served to confirm that I was not crazy, and that I was not going to follow the advice of this voice and it's accomplices. I left the establishment telling them I would return tomorrow, which I never intended to do, and did not. But, it eased my troubled mind where what I termed the Boo Bears had taken up residence in the <i>attic </i>of my mind.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">More than a mental illness, this was a psycho-spiritual experience. I had always dealt with anger and depression, but I never had any wild thoughts such as the one's that seemed to be bombarding me. I'm a peace loving person and have a difficult time dealing with the obstreperous, who usually drive me to that anger that consumed me for so long.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">It seems appropriate to be talking about this on Halloween. It's spooky, and it was especially spooky for me. To bring it to a head, I was working at a car dealership at the end of 2004 when the phone rang at the receptionist desk. She wasn't there. So, I picked it up and said, "Hello", but I didn't hear a response. I said, "Hello" again, and then there it was, that little voice I was already familiar with. It asked, "Who do you serve". Immediately, I was like, "Sir, this is Saturn of Decatur. We serve Saturn owners, but our technicians are able to work on pretty much any car, but I can barely hear you".</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">It repeated the question, "Who do you serve". At this point, I'm perplexed because I can barely hear this guy and I didn't know what else to say. Again, I said, "This is Saturn of Decatur, can you hear me". Again, it asked, "Who do you serve". Becoming frustrated, I said, "God". The voice challenged me again, "Who do you serve". I said, "God, in Jesus Christ". Then, I could hear the anger in his voice as still and small as it was, he said, "Who do you really serve". Again, I said, "God in Jesus Christ", and then I slammed the phone down as a co-worker passed by. I said, "What do you want me to say, Satan, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles" Except, I said Mephistophenes, not knowing how to pronounce it. My co-worker who bore a tattoo of Christ on the cross on his inner forearm, just started laughing at me, saying my name as he did. Boom, the door to the parts room opened and in warp speed the Fed X man came through the door in a split second stopping at the receptionist desk. Time subsided back to normal.</span><br />
<span id="goog_2044365073"><br /></span>
<span id="goog_2044365073">Now, I could go on with more ridiculous details, but I will halt right there. Point being, all of this led me to the streets. Is it mental illness? Was it my imagination? Should I tell you the rest of the story? Fifteen years later, this is the first time I've even shared this much of my battle of the mind and spirit. Am I the only one? Certainly, not. My aim, is only to help people overcome the torment of the mind in a psycho-spiritual crisis. It wasn't alcohol that led me to the streets. It was a case of mental gymnastics. Heck, I hardly ever drank any liquor until I hit the streets. I'm a beer drinker by preference. But, when madness comes in, southern abstainers will always blame alcohol. Think a little deeper folks. It's not that simple, and neither is "trying harder", or abstinence the solution to homelessness. That's a cultural thing driven by those in power that always look to point out a flaw of blame, when there's much more to the story. By the way, at the time I am writing this I am sober.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">As has so often been the case, people have told me, "You don't look homeless". Or, "You don't look like the other homeless people", just let it be said I have a lot in common with the other derelicts I live among. I might not look dirty, dusty and poor, but I have a lot in common with Bobby who talks to his voices on the broken pay telephone downtown on a regular basis. I observe it every day, and I know what he's experiencing, and has fully embraced as his reality. I don't know how to help him out of poverty exactly because I can't even help myself. But, I know what he's dealing with. So, not matter what the voice(s) tell you, don't be afraid to talk about it.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">However, when you find yourself on the streets and you can't figure out how to get off, and you want to know what's wrong with me, call it a case of PTSD, if you want. But, a system that just goes around blaming the homeless for being homeless is shameful, demeaning and downright evil, while heaping shame upon those who are living it. I overcame the insanity, by grace, but that doesn't seem to change my socioeconomic status, and my hope for a better life is all but gone with all the disappointment that has trailed it.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">But, I will laugh when I can laugh as there was a time when I couldn't even do that. I will sleep when I can sleep, because I have to steal my Zzzzz's, when sleeping outside. I will feast when I can feast as food that I want is not always at hand. And, I will drink when I can drink, and I won't when I can't, and I won't lose any sleep. But, by 7am Friday morning after all the candy has been distributed & collected, according to the weather report, it's gonna be 32 degrees fahrenheit. I just hope I make shelter call, or find my apartment I seem to have lost. We, the homeless, need to be rescued, not humiliated any further.</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">MAGA</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">Make America Give-a-shit Again</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">Related:</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073"><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/10/fruit-armor.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/10/fruit-armor.html</a> </span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073">One Bad Apple Spoils The Bunch</span><br />
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<span id="goog_2044365073"><a href="https://pictorial.jezebel.com/the-long-shadow-of-the-welfare-queen-1838856900?utm_source=pocket-newtab" target="_blank">https://pictorial.jezebel.com/the-long-shadow-of-the-welfare-queen-1838856900?utm_source=pocket-newtab</a></span><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-31440546277142327662019-08-06T10:10:00.000-07:002019-09-19T08:33:04.811-07:00It's AlrightShe sings about anxiety, <br />
But, it sounds like joy!<br />
She was just explaining. <br />
She wasn't complaining.<br />
<br />
It was just a JOY!<br />
<br />
Life is a TOY!<br />
<br />
DISCOVER<br />
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It can fall apart.<br />
<br />
If you ain't got no money<br />
You better listen to your heart<br />
And, if you don't,<br />
And, you're still alive...<br />
<br />
That's the time to start!<br />
<br />
Words do come, and words do go<br />
But, do they ever arrive?<br />
<br />
Positively, TRUE!<br />
<br />
You Know Who?<br />
<br />
Reckon So?<br />
<br />
Yo, Yo-Yo?<br />
<br />
It's alright.<br />
<br />
It's alright?Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-17054781189292266282019-07-03T08:06:00.000-07:002019-07-03T08:06:30.556-07:00Concentration Camps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Michael John Parenti is an American political scientist and cultural critic who writes on scholarly and popular subjects. He has taught at American and international universities and has been a guest lecturer before campus and community audiences.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">-Wikipedia</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbkVIHyfjABBdAEM3JtQ1HWF2OLC4Pa3C3_7VKjBiAI0feJHL7FYu6QD1f-GQiWs_DxWppEkbfovR9F-iMwXrdnrjjtDGt3WZspkyh17GkAWeyovoztI-drLRZxDGosohETv_G17QeCfk/s1600/camps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="811" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbkVIHyfjABBdAEM3JtQ1HWF2OLC4Pa3C3_7VKjBiAI0feJHL7FYu6QD1f-GQiWs_DxWppEkbfovR9F-iMwXrdnrjjtDGt3WZspkyh17GkAWeyovoztI-drLRZxDGosohETv_G17QeCfk/s640/camps.jpg" width="540" /></a></div>
<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-18866365788810251732019-06-24T15:34:00.001-07:002019-06-27T17:35:22.810-07:00AthFest 2019 On The Small StageAs usual, it was hot, but not all that bad under the tent. I wasn't under the beer tent. I volunteered this year, for the second time only this time I was sober. I'm not really trying to make a big deal of the sobriety thing, but when I think back to the last time I volunteered I remember I was pretty messed up. I made it through the entire weekend without walking off, or passing out. I honored my commitment as has always been the case if I'm working and drinking. I've never missed a day of work because of drinking. I'm what some would call a functioning alcoholic. <br />
<br />
I prefer to think of myself as a functioning regular drinker, but we are in the midst of a cultural civil war, you know. And, when Evangelicals elect a non-drinker in Jesus' name who sure seems like he's drunk, I feel I have the right to distinguish between behaviors that Southern abstainers won't. After all, Christians who do not consume alcohol are superior to all other Christians, right?<br />
<br />
So, I was sober until last night at the end, we all had a few beers. Nothing to excess, but having taken the month off, I woke up feeling like my head was full of cotton and I didn't like it. You grow accustomed to that feeling and think it's normal, but it's not. I wasn't hungover with a headache, or nausea. I was just feeling rather thick.<br />
<br />
However, my aim for the day was to recap my AthFest experience working primarily the small stage on Hull Street that was jam packed with some amazing talent and I'd say it was a shade cooler than the main stage which had the Eastern sun shining in on it all day long, only to have the setting sun in the Western sky heat things up from behind at the end of the day, as per usual.<br />
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I'm not complaining. This is just a fact. So, if you've never been to AthFest, in the future be sure you are prepared to sweat. It's still a far cry from hell fire, but enough to give you a headache if you walk around in it for too long as I did yesterday while doing what they call Crowd Hawking, fundraising. I'm not, and never have been, very good at asking people for money. Maybe that's why I don't beg on the streets. I'm just not good at it. Plus, I'm honest to a fault. I'm a horrible liar. Every time I have ever tried to lie in my life, people can tell immediately. I haven't tried very many times, but I probably wouldn't make a very good actor unless I was just playing myself and then I wonder if I'd mess that up too.<br />
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More to the point, let me just share with you here, the amazing talent I saw on the small stage down from the Hot Corner this first Summer weekend in Athens, GA. It's a town with so many bands we should start a reality TV show and follow some around for a time! That's my idea Bar Rescue, and so was that!<br />
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One of the best acts I saw was like a Democratic presidential candidate I never heard of, but much more interesting. Sam Burchfield out of Atlanta led off Friday with a versatile style from Southern twang to a sort of New York flavor in the keys. I subscribed to their channel on YouTube as I did with the others as well.<br />
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The Broken String band, unlike a Democratic presidential candidate, is a band I have heard of, but had never heard. This was insane! I call it BLUEGRASSID! I've heard folk music and Bluegrass in my life. In fact, as a kid, a classmate of mine used to let me get up on stage with them when his father's Bluegrass band used to play at festivals. I just shook the tambourine, but they never complained. So, I guess I have some rhythm. This was a different kind of Bluegrass with enough energy to make you sweat. Like I said to someone earlier, if you catch these guys, bring your own towels!<br />
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Harvey Funkwalker... Johan Harvey who I got to know from Live Wire Athens when they used to do an open mic night, came off the stage and I said, "Joe, a lot of people would say that was SICK, but I'm not sure what to say about it". Johan just laughed and then said, "Ill", stopped for another second of thought as I repeated it and then said, "NASTY", to which I totally and enthusiastically agreed. Every time I've heard these guys play I am astounded and it is soooo NASTY. Soooo, while some presidents make the word NASTY a negative, Harvey Funkwalker makes it RIGHTEOUS even though the street preacher on the corner during the festival says it's WICKED. At least, he has an opinion.<br />
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And, oh my God, this next act through a series of random events beginning with my first sighting of Random Art in June of 2012, which was supposed to be the end of the world, represented the beginning of this string of sightings I call Random Art. It all started with a clay sculpture of a figure crawling, down on one knee, with one arm stretched out. It was just lying on the ground. I picked it up and placed it on the edge of the fountain and took a picture.<br />
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Well, about a month ago, through some random article, or something I saw online, I came to know who Sarah Zuniga is. This must have been about the same time I found out who Ariana Grande is when I was working with two lesbians who had sex changes to become males, maintained their homosexual relationship, as males, and one of them was studying to be a minister. That's another story entirely, but it was about that time... A month ago.<br />
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Regardless, this clay figure was the first post I made of Random Art, and Sarah Zuniga is one of my most recent posts of Random Art, just about a month ago. Two weeks ago, I was at the library when my blind eyes spotted a wavy haired brunette across the room. This is a sure fire way for me to look. Just send a curly haired brunette into the room and it's as if ESP kicks in. I could have sworn it was Sarah Zuniga, and about ten minutes later when this local talent, via NY, got up to leave and she was close enough for me to see better. At that point, I could see it was indeed her.<br />
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Now, fast forward to this AthFest weekend when I saw her walking down the sidewalk and almost stopped her to compliment her. I was on duty and felt a little awkward about anyway. So, I let her walk by without an awkward scene. Then, there she was again later in the day, but was stopped by someone else for a conversation and before I knew it she was gone the next time I looked. I had to go help somebody that was to perform next unload their vehicle.<br />
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Saturday morning came and I was somewhat randomly scheduled to work the Hull Street stage. In order to make this long story shorter, guess who opened up the day... Oh, it was just Random Art!<br />
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However, as if this Banana Split needs a cherry on top of it, I gotta say Orquesta MaCuba was just that! It was amazing enough that we were able to park this band because as many of you well know parking is always a problem in Athens, especially when a major event is taking place and it's a Salsa band you're trying to park! AthFest is such an event, and Orquesta MaCuba is that Salsa band. Have no fear! We got it done and all without any parking tickets, while people were literally dancing in the streets!<br />
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Finally, and probably the STUPIDEST act of all, kind of like Harvey Funkwalker is NASTY, was this GROUP called Misnomer, for by any other name would still be Misnomer. Not only was I not drinking beer, but I also was not smoking any pot, but still found these guys to be mesmerizing. I'm not quite sure how they categorize themselves, but I'll categorize it as My Kind of music! Who needs vocals when you're gonna end up making some up for yourself? That is, if you feel so inclined to do so.<br />
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This is the second time I heard Misnomer play, and it must have been at AthFest when I heard them before. I live in this music town, but don't hear a lot of live music unless it is at the Nowhere Bar, and I haven't been shooting a lot of Pool lately. So, I'm somewhat ignorant of much of the music scene. However, I am not ignorant of Sam Burchfield, The Broken String Band, Harvey Funkwalker, Sarah Zuniga, Orquesta MaCuba, or Misnomer. I'm just not that STUPID!<br />
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I honestly believe this is probably the best AthFest I have ever experienced and it's probably the only one I've ever attended without having beer! I can't say I'm never going to have another beer. I never intended on taking a month off. I just did. I committed to beer at a young age. and I absolutely refuse to ever claim abstention believing it's just another form of addiction, but one very much pushed in the South, the land of religious people who do not drink and don't think anybody else should either. Because, if you do, you're an alcoholic and inferior to them, of course. The street preacher said it was so.<br />
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People spend an awful lot of time trying to make other people feel inferior, but I just wanted to share some superior musicians with you today, somewhat randomly! And, this is what happens when I don't drink... for a month!<br />
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Salud!<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1950798505895487654#allposts/postNum=2" target="_blank">Fourth Sunday In June</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtCFLdJfgICizSOPn1N9FuhDNLZFBjbFX4kCQkruC4IaVffSj4KuHv6tyodzjHbFgAZnFKdCpM1XUuIlwwvgefHU2UI2G2VN7p2SQ-Ewa_2iitWpmumApI_CjY12UZQHbiUzoGv_lEFZj/s1600/beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="165" data-original-width="220" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtCFLdJfgICizSOPn1N9FuhDNLZFBjbFX4kCQkruC4IaVffSj4KuHv6tyodzjHbFgAZnFKdCpM1XUuIlwwvgefHU2UI2G2VN7p2SQ-Ewa_2iitWpmumApI_CjY12UZQHbiUzoGv_lEFZj/s640/beer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150747838991138&set=pb.543306137.-2207520000.1561417237.&type=3&theater" target="_blank">The GAP</a><br />
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More Random Art:</div>
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NOTAUFO<br />
2012</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBbdcqgqj6mJuGKWwJ2QK_efLB93qHrHl51zJWmJRaeg-aT4904B5lGDgiqkKtqwgnreH0OghoeSaPkTw-iO_xB2NoYV6Hv9YEChjJjBjR81Fc9fXX-0scV4J1jV2a8HOnLo9c2HbMwCB/s1600/notaufo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1305" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBbdcqgqj6mJuGKWwJ2QK_efLB93qHrHl51zJWmJRaeg-aT4904B5lGDgiqkKtqwgnreH0OghoeSaPkTw-iO_xB2NoYV6Hv9YEChjJjBjR81Fc9fXX-0scV4J1jV2a8HOnLo9c2HbMwCB/s640/notaufo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Travelers<br />
2018</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8VdnJdB18MzyNOde2zrYxJ2ZXTqY2qP6OpyKAmn4v2HNyAXSreH59MMfjdegJu5Y83R6B_c_MnQ0dlTY2_b01aLiOIpUEGqLlEt_gDuegTbqiqQVurgFk_AI8Q0HRuLvLefhxa5nWN9P/s1600/travelers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="700" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8VdnJdB18MzyNOde2zrYxJ2ZXTqY2qP6OpyKAmn4v2HNyAXSreH59MMfjdegJu5Y83R6B_c_MnQ0dlTY2_b01aLiOIpUEGqLlEt_gDuegTbqiqQVurgFk_AI8Q0HRuLvLefhxa5nWN9P/s640/travelers.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Classic Boredom<br />
2017<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQ4klpQsY5Gk0wr0Ls1fRjH_3C7oFXYNQ1aZE7qbsNXMAR0_a15IGdWEoZl2sbA1hXNebyuY1iYMp9iXo4FZQ8sG9A70iARYhAsdUbo9HbtFnjIdjuJvYe0tg6ha7ApiLUocsNcYOsjs5/s1600/Classic+Boredom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="650" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQ4klpQsY5Gk0wr0Ls1fRjH_3C7oFXYNQ1aZE7qbsNXMAR0_a15IGdWEoZl2sbA1hXNebyuY1iYMp9iXo4FZQ8sG9A70iARYhAsdUbo9HbtFnjIdjuJvYe0tg6ha7ApiLUocsNcYOsjs5/s640/Classic+Boredom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Blur<br />
2012</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KYHWYyyM0zvbogvBL-ST9Zxl8_dOy1m0pLXO1TvtT7ajP6xIbF5Bv9dBMiy9oOCcjIIrGQNQ7Arz6QbMGwvz_7YFpJVMkRyy720uMl_zNFSj5t6lQAcjuwPc0DrV2bV9vWSKLT_aYEKf/s1600/The+Blur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="960" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KYHWYyyM0zvbogvBL-ST9Zxl8_dOy1m0pLXO1TvtT7ajP6xIbF5Bv9dBMiy9oOCcjIIrGQNQ7Arz6QbMGwvz_7YFpJVMkRyy720uMl_zNFSj5t6lQAcjuwPc0DrV2bV9vWSKLT_aYEKf/s640/The+Blur.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Cherry Garcia, The Blur 2<br />
2012</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZE8IrJCbWWbU_PdFbuWbq0VMDzAx1pDLP9PaD_IUBsU7819BedMJjT6NGD_HoYMYLWMK0thqWHVumeTtpRLmPh-4-jT5xR3-Tys0DLwoegbIsKcXC59BHcCi3YP1ja4NU6_0uStO82vD/s1600/cherry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZE8IrJCbWWbU_PdFbuWbq0VMDzAx1pDLP9PaD_IUBsU7819BedMJjT6NGD_HoYMYLWMK0thqWHVumeTtpRLmPh-4-jT5xR3-Tys0DLwoegbIsKcXC59BHcCi3YP1ja4NU6_0uStO82vD/s640/cherry.jpg" width="353" /></a></div>
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Face of Shade<br />
2014</div>
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Duct Craft<br />
2012</div>
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Barista<br />
2008</div>
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Accidental God<br />
2012</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssIlL_Im4YHhhsuZhqVBsQD_Tfek-1ZjyOC1J24P8TQZ4DziliFI9cfNQd7Rqy3PJ483TpEcFdDRTuYKoEZaKlRlSp8jFz-8v8MgjgvtZvzmPb17azh88d9l-8Idj8vTvE0ZOv_PnMbBs/s1600/Accidental+God.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssIlL_Im4YHhhsuZhqVBsQD_Tfek-1ZjyOC1J24P8TQZ4DziliFI9cfNQd7Rqy3PJ483TpEcFdDRTuYKoEZaKlRlSp8jFz-8v8MgjgvtZvzmPb17azh88d9l-8Idj8vTvE0ZOv_PnMbBs/s640/Accidental+God.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Josh Daniels<br />
2012</div>
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-7040251504769053782019-05-14T11:08:00.000-07:002019-06-19T14:20:17.746-07:00Go Get Yourself Some Pink EyeglassesI walked out the door to find a pair of pink eyeglasses laying on the
a brick planter on the sidewalk. Someone must have been sitting there
and left them behind. So, I took them inside to put in the lost and
found, but before I did I checked to see their strength.<br />
<br />
I've
been wearing readers for years now, but I need a prescription. When I
put them on I couldn't believe how well I could see. You really don't
realize just how blurry things are until you put on some specs that
work, even if they're pink. So, after a week and nobody claiming them I
boldly claimed them myself. I don't care what color they are except I
did take a Sharpie and try to color them black which only lasted for
another week before the ink had almost worn completely off.<br />
<br />
What
happened after that was an astounding example of just how prejudice
people can be. Within a forty-eight hour period, three different gay
men had approached me. After all, I live in a liberal town. What was I
to expect?<br />
<br />
It was early in the afternoon. I was
sitting on a different planter than the one where I found the glasses.
I sit there often when I don't have anything else to do. Suddenly, one
of the members of the downtown clown parade decides he is going to come
and sit down right next to me (literally) when there were plenty of other places and
planters where he could have sat including the place where he usually
posts up.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, but do you really feel the need
to come up and sit down right next to someone you don't even have a
rapport with?" I had never considered the guys sexual orientation. I
just thought he was another weirdo who likes to wear a funny hat and
clip on earrings. I'm just wearing pink eyeglasses which apparently
made me seem approachable, very approachable.<br />
<br />
"I can sit wherever I want", he proclaims, with a significantly gay sounding tone.<br />
<br />
"You're
worse than gay", I responded when his apparent gay lover shows up and
says, "Yeah, we're gay. You have a problem with gay people", as he
takes a seat right next to clown number one, and in between us.<br />
<br />
"I
have a problem with two of them right now! There are plenty of other
places for you to sit, but as I said, you're worse than gay", I
continued, "You're lucky I don't knock you back in this planter right
now".<br />
<br />
<i>***They didn't know how to respond to the "worse than gay" comment. So, it just fell on deaf ears as it usually does. I started saying that about anything that was worse than what people who deem homosexuality worthy of death, or conversion. The better option to me is to keep it in your pants, but apparently a greasy homeless gay guy and a guy in a funny hat who wears clip on earrings are in love, and should not only be allowed to be open about it, but act as if downtown is more like a gay bar than a public place. Oy Vey!</i><br />
<br />
Now, this is a frail and almost crippled nut job who
I see frequently at the soup kitchen and on the streets, but I had no
idea they were partners. Every now and then he'll say something
ridiculous like he's going to be sworn in as a deputy sheriff in the
morning... Or, he's having brain surgery next week... He's just a loose
screw on the same daily shuffle I am in trying to stay fed and clean.<br />
<br />
Rather
than having the situation escalate to violence and me probably getting
locked up for assault and battery, I decided to walk away from the
situation as a fourth person, a student <i>philanthropist</i> shows up and sits
down right next to them like the stooges they are.<br />
<br />
"You know what? Don't let this happen again, but enjoy your pathetic lives", I said, and walked away.<br />
<br />
There
was a day and time when they would have been beaten to a pulp and
nobody would have cared. But, this is a different day and age, and as
I've said more than once, this is not a theocracy and we don't kill our
gay people like they do in theocracies, but how about some manners?<br />
<br />
So, I hit the bar instead. <br />
<br />
The
young woman working behind the bar was just finishing setting up, I was
the first one in the door. I hadn't met her as this was her first
happy hour shift to work.<br />
<br />
As she is going back and forth, she stops in front of me and says, "Whew! I'm hot". <br />
<br />
It
was a near perfect 75 degrees out the first of Spring days after a long,
cold winter for Georgia, including so much rainfall, the ducks were
fighting over life preservers!<br />
<br />
I didn't argue with her
about her ambiguous statement because it would have been cheap! And, I
might be broke, but I do have caviar taste. It's just accompanied with a PBR budget. I
didn't even know her name. Instead, I took her literally and said,
"It's 75 degrees out there! It's beautiful! But, you are moving
around". Plus, she was wearing a sweater.<br />
<br />
"I hate to sweat", she responded.<br />
<br />
"You're not from around here are you", I asked.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I am. I'm from right here".<br />
<br />
"Really", just to confirm. I figured she was from the mountains.<br />
<br />
"I'm from the next town over, but yes. What can I get you", she asked.<br />
<br />
I just laughed, or actually chuckled gruffly as I do, and said, "PBR".<br />
<br />
Psssht
Clack, went the sound of the beer can as she cracked it open almost
instantly as if she were drawing a gun from her holster like a cow girl,
or something.<br />
<br />
I usually have two and then I move on.
We were the only two people in there and so we just talked small talk as
she continued to get set up. Then, I felt cool air blowing. She had
turned on the AC.<br />
<br />
Just a few minutes later the owner comes in. Immediately, he says, "The AC is on", with surprise!<br />
<br />
She
was standing right there in front of me when she gracefully raised her
arms like a dancer, or a princess, about shoulder height as if wings and
said, "I know. Doesn't it feel great?" I thought she was going to
lift off the ground, or something, and then he would have forgotten all
about the power bill!<br />
<br />
The owner basically says the same
the same thing I did, "Oh my God! You're not from around here are
you?" I had to laugh on that note, or course.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I am. I'm from here", once again she protested. <br />
<br />
The
boss said, "Turn the AC off. Turn on the fans and open the doors",
which she did promptly. However, it has earned her a title; a well
deserved title, Acey.<br />
<br />
Later, after observing the situation I told her, "Your momentary reaction to this relatively inclement weather is just evidence of your desire for the finer things in life, that frankly, you deserve." She lowered her head to the bar as the words "inclement weather" left my lips as if to gasp, or hold back a laugh, then raising it as I finished my sentence, Acey exclaimed, "Yes! To that, I agree 100%!"<br />
<br />
It was funny, but I see a lotta
funny stuff out there, after all. Just look at the scene that led me to
the bar. However, that shit ain't funny to me. No, no, no. It might be funny to you, but not to me. It was really funny to the lady at the church the other day when I was telling her all about it, but not to me. What's funny to me is seeing people laugh about it when I tell them about it. I have tears in my eyes right now as I write this, as a matter of fact.<br />
<br />
Working in this town and being <i>39, </i>and
all, it's not easy to find work. And, the work I do find affords me
enough money to buy beer. One of the main benefits is it does allow me
to escape the daily clown parade... Most of the time.<br />
<br />
It
was the very next day at lunch when I was the last person in the room,
all other tables open, and here he comes through the door, Mr. I Can Sit
Wherever I Want wearing his stupid hat. And, what does he do? He
comes straight to the table I'm sitting at wanting to sit there.<br />
<br />
"Don't
do it. Don't do it. I told you yesterday. Don't ever sit at my
table", I told him. But, he proceeded and then threatened to <i>tell on me</i>.
The woman who is a regular volunteer was just over my shoulder a few
steps away. She knows me well. If there is one thing I have maintained
over the years is a high degree of credibility. In other words, I'm not known as a bullshitter. I just deal with it and aim to stay on my lily pad, while doing so. But, I reach my breaking point when it gets really stupid like with these two.<br />
<br />
As he went over to speak
to her, I just looked at her and very calmly said, "Yesterday this guy
was a nuisance. Today he is a stalker", as I picked up my plate feeling
nauseated ever since the day before, a physical reaction I shouldn't be
having to deal with except this aggressive homosexual the size of a
toothpick has decided to be a real idiot. That was that and I left the
building.<br />
<br />
I shoulda been a celebrity. I already have
the stalkers. Oh. This isn't the first one, but it's the first gay
one! Bottom line, I don't care if you want to marry a tree. Go ahead.
Just don't bother inviting me to the wedding. I will not be there. <br />
<br />
Now, I had to wait until 10pm to go to
work nearly ten hours of nowhere to go, except the bar to avoid the
parade. Why do gay people feel the need to parade their sexuality?
Heterosexuals don't go out and have parades in the name of their
sexuality mimicking sex acts and just being generally rude. Oh, yeah.
It's 'cause they're gay. Who else would want to have a parade for that?<br />
<br />
So, that's what I did until it was time to go to work. <br />
<br />
Well
if you remember the resident DJ where I worked who is really just a
misfit, like so many of us are, but in a "different" way, a flaming gay
way, decides he is going to start calling me Honey, and Boo. after
already slapping me on the shoulder after making some kind of joke.
These pink glasses really bring out the audacity and prejudice in
people. So, I didn't stay very long because I had had it. I was
already nauseated. He had done this a couple days earlier and I was
just like shaking my head about it instead of cussing him out, or
pushing his head down into the fryer, or both. So, I barked something
about his gayness and he said I was disrespecting him.<br />
<br />
"You disrespect me, every time you call me Honey, or Boo, or even touch me", I said. <br />
<br />
My
thinking is, it's an effing workplace. Let's just stick to cooking.
But, I was done with it. Gay people demand acceptance these days, but these kind don't respect those who are repulsed by their behavior, which is just
about every straight guy in the world. If you're not repulsed by it,
then maybe you're just so much more open minded than me your brains are
falling out on the sidewalk. They want to normalize gross, and flies
like to eat shit, right? I <i>guess</i> it makes sense, to them anyway. So be it. But, if you insist on calling me Honey, or Boo, then I should at least have the right to call you a faggot, as equally offensive. So, why don't we just stick to work instead, yo?<br />
<br />
The
problem is, I've worked with and been around gay people throughout my
life. I'm not afraid of them. I just don't want them calling me by
terms of endearment and coming up and sitting down right next to me. Is
that too much to ask in a society that is supposed to have "evolved" to
a state of mutual respect... I live on the streets not in a gated
community, or even an apartment where I can just get away from it and
especially while in the workplace this line should not have been
crossed. What added insult to injury was when a new gay person was
added to the cast who happened to be a former partner of this guy who is
the supervisor. Too much gayness for such a small group of employees,
of not even ten. Not just a former partner, but one with an attitude.<br />
<br />
I
like to make the joke about the best gay experience I ever had. It was
a co-worker. We were in a training class of about eight people. We
all went to lunch and I made the mistake of having spaghetti. And, of
course when you eat spaghetti in public while in a shirt and tie, it's
almost inevitable you're going to spill sauce and as sure as shit, I
did. This guy was a flame for sure, but while standing there among
everyone he said, "It's ok Gabe. Ties were originally invented as
napkins". That's the best "gay" experience I've ever had.<br />
<br />
So,
being that it was about midnight on a Monday night and I was already
tired, I decided I would just go ahead and leave, which is what I did.
Guess what. The nausea ceased immediately. I'm just not going to work
until 2:30 in the morning when I have to be up at 6:30 in the morning
and have to deal with a hostile work environment after waiting around
all day to do it. For the same reason, I quit going to the shelter
because it's really nothing but a psych ward without a managing
physician, only to be stressed out while just trying to go to sleep.
I'm out of work again, but much more well rested.<br />
<br />
I'm
only putting this down because it's relevant to today's issues, and it's
just another story from the streets of Athens, GA. But, the
culmination of things came on Tuesday when once again I went to the bar,
and once again, Acey, full of grace, was working again. Another guy
comes into the bar. She says hello to him as if she knows him. I
don't, and I thought it was kind of odd, because I don't go there
everyday, but I know who the regulars are.<br />
<br />
Next thing I
know he sits down. And, then we're all just talking and cutting up.
There are others there too. So, she's busy serving beers to them. He
starts talking about these steaks he had bought and made at home, Rib
Eyes over an inch thick, he told me. <br />
<br />
"Did you put them on the grill", I asked.<br />
<br />
"No, no. I just put 'em in the toaster oven", he answered, "They came out great!"<br />
<br />
"Sounds good", I said with a question mark, "I can taste them now", as I imagined the taste of burnt rubber.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, he looked at me with eyebrows raised and said, "Hey! You wanna go eat steaks?"<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
The
moral of the story. Mind your manners. Don't judge a book by
it's cover. And, don't wear pink eyeglasses without expecting to get
hit on by gay men, unless you're a woman. Then, you're fine. Oh, and
don't bother trying to paint them black with a Sharpie either. It just leaves a
black mark on the bridge of your nose.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Lastly,
if you see me wearing a Harley Davidson cap, and an NYPD t-shirt, and
pink eyeglasses, Just understand, I have never ridden a Harley. I am
not impersonating a police officer, and I don't have a gay desire in
me. I'm just a derelict that should be a millionaire by now, but I
effed up. The thing is, they gave me the shirt and the cap at no other
place than the clothes closet at the church. They're dressing me like a
fake!<br />
<br />
When it's all said and done though, I'm pretty sure I met a <i>real</i> princess, Acey, full of grace, who does not like to sweat!<br />
<br />
Furthermore, as of today, May 30, I made another visit to the clothes closet, just yesterday. I needed a vented shirt instead of a t-shirt. It has been so hot already, in the nineties and it's not even June! I was looking for a beach shirt, a button up, one that would let the breeze flow through, light weight.<br />
<br />
As is always the case, I find exactly what I need within seconds of walking in the door! It never fails. There it was hanging right there. It was the only shirt I picked up. It was perfect! When I walked in the door they handed me a bag that happened to have a much needed pair of black socks with blue stripes across the toes. My new Chacos has worn blisters on my feet. I needed some protection besides bandages that rubbed off within two blocks. I had just put those on, when I spotted the sky blue shirt with muted palm trees printed in the fabric.<br />
<br />
It was great, silky, light weight and with the new socks, the new black Chacos and the grey plaid shorts, it was if it was meant for me. I don't try to be color coordinated. The clothes closet just serves it up, but to my dismay when I looked at the tag in the collar, I found these words, "Trump Marina". I was disheartened, but it really was the perfect shirt.<br />
<br />
I searched for the material tag and once I found it, I felt like this was mine! It felt like silk, but it was 100% Rayon! It was at that moment, I decided it was a prop in total keeping with all the other stuff I had gotten there that made me look like a FAKE. So, I took it, put it on and wore it all day long telling friends and anybody I thought who would understand it having witnessed this whole wardrobe change and transition which is customary for me, but never with this much strange coincidence. On the sleeve it read, "Trump Marina Hotel & Casino", his failed Atlantic City Casino. <br />
<br />
What could be more appropriate than for me they guy who can't lie without you knowing it than to have a Harley Davidson cap, an NYPD t-shirt, this shirt, and a pair of pink eyeglasses?<br />
<br />
Nothing.<br />
<br />
So, now, if you see me wearing these things, just know I'm the worst liar in the whole world, but I am without a doubt convinced that Voltaire was correct and Nietzsche was wrong. God is not dead. He is a comedian telling jokes to an audience too afraid to laugh!<br />
<br />
Of course, it could all just be a coincidence.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Read More!<br />
<br />
Previously Published:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2019/04/frijoles-refritos-por-favor.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2019/04/frijoles-refritos-por-favor.html</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Go Get Yourself Some Pink Eyeglasses At Your Own Risk</div>
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But, if I were you I'd stick with the Cheap Sunglasses</div>
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<a href="https://www.pacificcoastsunglasses.com/the-original-kds.aspx" target="_blank">Cheap Sunglasses Available Here</a><br />
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-39126886146774395252019-04-12T08:50:00.003-07:002019-09-18T11:14:37.057-07:00Frijoles Refritos Por Favor?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
As I made my way from the hotel room where I had just enjoyed ten hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was greeted by housekeeping, an older man and woman, Indian, as evidenced by the Bindi on her forehead. They were so friendly, but did not speak much English. The woman approached me requesting the key and that the door be left open. At least, that's what her hand gestures seemed to indicate. When I complied she put her hands together in front of her and bowed with thanks. The man said, "You have good day!". I returned the blessing and made my way downstairs.<br />
<br />
On the previous night when walking to the hotel I noticed there was a new Mexican restaurant that had opened in an old spot that has been several things including a video rental shack, and a Bubble Tea House. It was about quarter 'til eleven when I was passing by. I noticed the door was open and people were inside. As I came to the threshold of the doorway, I leaned in to find there were six or eight women from young to old. Gran Madre stood directly in front of me, as another women stood to my left next to me at the door.<br />
<br />
I greeted the group and said only one word because I remember several words in Spanish, but am not good at forming sentences and can only speak Spanish in the present tense when I do try to form sentences. I love beans! There's just something about the way they taste at a Mexican restaurant that you can't get anywhere else. I'm so glad to see this place called El Zarco on Broad across from the cobble stone street everyone knows.<br />
<br />
"Frijoles", I asked with a question mark of inflexion, while I was looking at the apparent matriarch of the group. "Ohh", she responded which seemed to say she did not speak English. The woman next to me appeared to be of African decent, but Spanish speaking, interceded in Spanish telling Gran Madre that I wanted beans, to which I added "Refritos". She understood at that point when my interpreter told me they would be open in about 11 minutes!<br />
<br />
I thanked them and went outside to drop my bag and stretch out the morning kinks in the parking lot. After a few minutes of that, I noticed there was a small table with seating across the lot just a few steps away. I took a seat at the table. Not two or three minutes later, the Gran Madre comes walking out with a white plastic sack. Approaching me, she extends her arm and hands me the sack. I confirmed it was my beans when my interpreter showed up again telling me they were free! I was a little confused because I wanted lunch too. My interpreter told Gran Madre I wanted lunch to which she replied once again with "Ohh".<br />
<br />
I began to wonder if she just wanted me to leave having brought the beans in sack very graciously for free! Finally, it dawned on me, she thinks I'm begging for food!!! Beyond that, now she also thinks I'm asking for MORE food in the name of Fajitas!!! In a moment of clarity, I reached in my pocket and showed her my money, "Tengo el dinero", I have the money, I said to her when I began to laugh as did my interpreter. It was a beautiful life moment especially when you consider most people do not prejudge me as a poor beggar and have a hard time believing I've lived as a street cat for over a decade in Athens, Ga. Add to that the fact, I had just showered and shaved and even washed my hair. The only indicator of my poverty was the backpack I carried, but in this town everyone carries one.<br />
<br />
At this point, the waitress came to take my order, bringing chips and salsa as is typical of a Mexican restaurant. The Fajitas were on the way! As I waited, my phone rang. It was my Dad. I was telling him about what just happened and we were both laughing about it when three woman including my interpreter came to the table with smiles on their faces giving me grips of the friendship we had just formed. They began laughing with us when my Dad, listening in hearing the commotion and laughter asked where I was. I said, "I'm still here. We UNITE on BEANS! That's my interpreter and her friends. I'm hanging out with three woman from Panama, right now", I joked as they were telling me good bye.<br />
<br />
He just laughed! My son, the one who lives on the streets, who once won a costume contest as a child dressed as a Hobo! An urban dwelling Hobo, who is usually clean shaven and fairly well mannered, the guy that picks up empty zip lock bags on the streets thrown down on the ground by other street people with the same childhood hand to mouth disorder, where you take what's in the wrapper, eat it, and then just leave the wrapper behind, on the ground. My Dad must have been thinking along these lines about the character I am. Just another Spaghetti Head that thankfully had the mess unravelled!<br />
<br />
One thing I can say for myself, is I'm not a slob, but most street people are. See, I grew up on the Golf course. Golf is a game of etiquette, and etiquette is a part of life you learn as a child because if you don't, you just won't. Golf is a dignified game as the Master's is going on right now, just about ninety minutes away by car, it breeds manners, etiquette, dignity and certain humility for most. <br />
<br />
So, on this my 39th birthday, again, I am thankful for being exposed to Golf throughout my youth because it helped shape my character. Even if you can't be a professional player, you can Master dignity and etiquette from the same game the pros are playing at this very moment!<br />
<br />
So, I began my day with a language barrier that could not mask the loving spirit being reciprocated between me and the Indian couple who greeted me as I left my room. It continued with Gran Madre just a five minute walk away! One of the sweetest gestures of mistaken identity I think I've ever experienced having been prejudged for most of my life in the positive. It was beautiful! She judged correctly in that I live on the streets, but incorrectly in that I was asking for a hand out. A leg up would be nice, but never a hand out! As a member of the working poor, I can attest working doesn't pay the rent, but it gives me something to do.<br />
<br />
Of course, I like to say, I could take all the money I make and put it toward rent and have a place to live, but then I would would have no life. And, I'd miss moments like these I have been richly blessed with no matter what language you speak!<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
El Zarco<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.redandblack.com/athensnews/family-run-restaurant-el-zarco-brings-fresh-mexican-dishes-to/article_56a8b94a-319f-11e9-8abf-3b561450d0f2.html" target="_blank">https://www.redandblack.com/athensnews/family-run-restaurant-el-zarco-brings-fresh-mexican-dishes-to/article_56a8b94a-319f-11e9-8abf-3b561450d0f2.html</a><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-67123370913269939122019-03-02T11:55:00.002-08:002019-03-02T11:55:46.511-08:00HawaiiI just finished up a two week stay in Hawaii! It was great! Except, I never left the hotel room! In case you didn't notice, that's three sentences in a row ending with an exclamation point. And, without intention. I apologize for my perceived "overuse" of ellipsis and exclamation points in advance of the reading of this post...<br />
<br />
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I have no advanced plan, or outline for it. But, after two weeks in Hawaii, I feel like a ROCK STAR, just without the pay check. Anyway, do they actually get paychecks? If they don't, they sure have a good time, until they get fat and get face lifts trying to keep up with father time who never ages...<br />
<br />
One thing for sure that never ages is Quality. Somehow, it always remains. Now, if you can remember before you were born, there aren't any memories, or consciousness, and that must be the greatest Quality; no feelings, emotions, nothing. Yet, we are here, against all odds according to statisticians. Life is a gift, not an accident.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
For two weeks, I haven't had to deal with any derelicts, other than myself. The problem with derelicts is when you group them together, they take over Starbucks with their semi-open door policy and the students are bombarded with sleeping and snoring shit fucks who all think they're in the CIA, or the Mob. They can't decide, and the Mob doesn't even exist!!!<br />
<br />
I understand this dilemma, like we all do...<br />
<br />
First, they tell you about God. Then, they tell you about Santa. And, then, they pull the rug out from under your feet and leave you to yourself to undo the programming. Yes. It will turn your mind over, and over, and over, and over, especially if you read the Bible, or some other "Holy" book.<br />
<br />
Keep Breathing...<br />
<br />
In America, our fundamentalists don't blow buildings up because they're mad about you not agreeing with their religion. In America, they tear buildings down to build new ones, because this is the apparently, unnecessary way of business governed by those who would like to build walls on borders that don't really exist. They also employ those who build them. Hence, their slaves vote for them.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I got that off my chest. I can't think of another way to put it. Unbridled capitalism is unjust. But, until the slaves quit voting for it; Or, we institute breeding regulations, it won't stop. I can't imagine being a billionaire. I don't even want to. But, after two weeks in Hawaii without leaving the hotel room, I should feel like a king. It's just, they all want you to laugh at stupid stuff, and watch porn while you act like you're not watching it. But, how can you not watch it when it's blaring from a giant screen right in front of your face.<br />
<br />
Moralism. Moralism, fits right into America which basically by the Constitution only has a few of them, and thankfully not six hundred and thirteen of them. If it did, we'd be living like Islamic Fundamentalists in mass, and with guns bought from America.<br />
<br />
Moralism. With all the religion we have in this country, you'd think nobody would try to claim rights to truth, but the slaves voted and they love prescription drugs, even though they were out numbered. What? The alternative was keep prescription drugs, and adore her instead. No difference.<br />
<br />
Keep Breathing...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2013/06/morning-sex-in-parking-deck.html" target="_blank">Morning Sex</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-1880728083135783892019-02-17T14:01:00.001-08:002019-09-19T08:51:30.358-07:00I'm 39!A few years ago, I had a string of "magical" experiences that lasted for several weeks, if not months. I had just spent six months in the county jail. I could barely walk after being released because I hadn't exercised at all during my stay. That's my fault. Nonetheless, I made my way to the bar where I began my road to recovery! Sounds funny? In fact, it's not what you might think, kinda. Carrying cases of beer up and down stairs is exercise! Believe it, or not!<br />
<br />
I don't keep up with all the pop music there is. As I've said before, the music I listen to is mostly passively, whatever is playing in the bar. I don't have a portable playlist I listen to, and I don't have a device I could listen to that portable playlist on anyway. Yet, there I was beginning my road to recovery from poverty to imprisonment... Only this time it was more taxing having only been locked up for weeks, or days at a time before. Physically, I was drained. I had actually gained weight, and lost muscle mass. If you've eaten jailhouse food, you understand why that seems impossible.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until now, I found any meaning in the weeks long experience of Taylor Swift "showing up" in song for what seemed like every time I walked in, or out of the bar I frequented. I mean, I'm <i>39 </i>years old, and I listen to music passively. I didn't know any of her tunes, but this happened with such great frequency, I finally asked who sang the song... Shake It Off, I had found myself UNASHAMEDLY, kind of dancing to as I made Jello Shots, or did my duties for getting ready for the business day.<br />
<br />
My Sister, the bartender and GM, who employed me as her personal bar back, paid me in beer and on many occasions let me crash there. The place became my home! When it occurred for the bajillionth time that Shake It Off would play when I crossed the threshold, I finally asked her if she was putting it on just to mess with me. She just laughed and said, "No, but it is strange"! She also told me it was Taylor Swift. I ended up looking up Taylor Swift and found her to be a very talented singer, and musician. It was revealing because I knew the tune, but I didn't know it was her. As I said, I listen to music passively.<br />
<br />
Likewise, now, a few years later, for the past few weeks, I have been seeing news report after news report about Ariana Grande. I didn't know any of her music either... At least, I didn't think so?!? I subscribe to several news sources that show up in my Facebook feed. Some of those are entertainment news sources. To see Ariana Grande in entertainment news comes as no surprise, but that changed suddenly.<br />
<br />
Just on Tuesday of this week, I saw another Ariana Grande news report, but this one was from a Sports news source SB Nation. This, after also learning that she had recently gotten a tattoo that seemed to indicate she liked Japanese BBQ Grills instead of whatever she thought it meant when she had the tattoo made. Whoops! This new story in SB Nation indicated that when she was five years old, she had been struck in the face, or mouth, by a hockey puck! I took notice of that. How couldn't I?<br />
<br />
If that wasn't enough, I went to work that night in a new job working with two people I hadn't worked with before. You can't judge on appearance, but if I had to guess, I'd have said these two were gay guys. Normally, we don't play music where I'm working. But, this was a different crew for the night. After about an hour, one of the guys decides to go put on some music.<br />
<br />
I listened as I worked, and found myself moving to the music as is normal for me to do. To work in a kitchen, or any setting where there is movement is a dance anyway. So, why not incorporate the music into your steps. It really is unavoidable and inevitable. Why do I make it sound like a choice? You just move to the music and get the job done whistling while you work.<br />
<br />
After listening for about forty five minutes, I finally asked who it was he was playing. The one guy says, "It's Ariana", nonchalantly, kind of like as if to see if this old man of <i>39 </i>years even knows who Ariana is...<br />
<br />
Well, I might not have been able to identify who it was by the sounds coming out of the speaker, but the one cut that prompted the question was Thank You! Next! It's sort of like what you say at the counter when you serve one customer and are ready for the next one! Thank You! Next!!! However, according to my co-worker and resident DJ for the night this is a break up song and has something to do with the now deceased Mac Miller who was Ariana Grande's former boyfriend as I have come to learn. I had never heard of him at all until his recent demise. Why, and how, I'm not sure; but it must be because of one of those news sources other than SB Nation!<br />
<br />
So, when he told me who it was, I said, "Ohhh, really? Did you know she got hit in the face with a hockey puck when she was five years old?!?"<br />
<br />
DJ Order busted out in laughter in a high pitch upon this announcement and when I turned to look at the other guy, he was laughing too. It was a matter of fact, as I told them, "I just saw that in my news feed today in a Sports publication".<br />
<br />
DJ Order had only a few words in response to my question and that was, "It's probably true", as he laughed out loud again, with the high pitch, of course... It is only slightly ironic, if you know anything about me and my history. Mainly, that I just told an allegedly gay guy something about Ariana Grande he didn't know!<br />
<br />
See, I was Mister Crazy Christian that spent several years with my head twisted like spaghetti from my own indulgence to the Bible and religion... one of, if not <i>the </i>leading cause of mental illness on the planet. For me, to be sharing yet unrecognized information about Ariana Grande to a possible homosexual who had attended a Mariah Carey concert the night before, ain't much different than me wanting to vote for Dolly Parton in 2020! Huh?<br />
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It has nothing to do with sexuality. It's just a matter of fact that Ariana Grande took a hockey puck to the face. Rumor has it, she actually caught it with her teeth like you see those people catch bullets with their teeth, but that cannot be confirmed. Regardless, you will never see me dressed in drag singing Life is a Cabaret! However, I do have some soul for a white guy, and if I knew any lyrics to any Ariana Grande songs I might sing those, but just Shake It Off for now. Plus, I don't dance often, but when I do, I don't dance like some other white people I've seen dancing on YouTube!<br />
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It's just that this town has all kinds, as does this country, and this world and is not a theocracy. So, we don't kill our gay people, or any others that do not seem to fit into some homogenized state of being where everyone basically conforms to certain standards like being a Republican, a Cubs fan and driving a Buick. In this case, we just kill with laughter!<br />
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Heck, make everybody laugh, even though that seems to get tougher by the day because so many people are so overly sensitive. We would do well to remember the laughs of a child. A sense of humor is something even infants have. They laugh, and smile, shortly after they open their eyes. Then, somewhere along the way we so often somehow stifle it. As if, natural joy is somehow bad, and conformity to standards, even who we vote for, becomes more like rooting for your team rather than voting for the right vision of a dignified society where we must freely admit, even if we differ on moral opinions, nobody ever accomplished anything exclusively on their own, or by their morals. Not even, learning to dance, or sing!<br />
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The shift went on, as did the music, and I finally knew who Ariana Grande was not just by sight, but by sound. So, the night came to a close. We all made our departures. I was the last one to leave as I was closing down the dish pit... at <i>39 </i>years old! I actually like the dish pit because when it's cold outside that water is warm. And, warm water is soothing. So, if you ever feel stressed out, wash some dishes. It's probably one of the best things you can do besides taking a bath to reduce stress.<br />
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It was time for a cigar. I made my way down the street to the store. Standing up for five or six hours at a time makes my <i>39 </i>year old legs tired. But, I made it, and as soon as I got to the front door and took a stride over the threshold, there she was again, singing, "Thank You! Next!". Ridiculous.<br />
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Where's Taylor Swift? She's gotta be coming up next, huh?<br />
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So, strangely, coincidentally, in a Disney kind of way, to Taylor Swift, and Ariana Grande, it has taken many years to Shake It Off, to recover physically, mentally and even spiritually from some pretty big mistakes and some significant jail time, but Thank You! NEXT!<br />
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The consequences I still deal with each day, but mentally, I am now capable. Whereas, until recently it was questionable. Every day, I lived in guilt, and anxiety, and even bouts with depression that have occupied my daily life for most of it's entirety. Many can claim the same. Some of whom I have come to know personally. That time is gone, minus occasional flare ups often spurred on by overconsuming alcohol. Otherwise, I'm on my Lily Pad.<br />
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Yet, when strings of coincidence are all too frequent to ignore, words have spirit and meaning behind them. You can't get caught up in patterns, or read too much into them. You'll go mad and end up on the street corner trying to explain the universe to everyone passing by in five minutes, or less.<br />
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But, as when you read a book and you can almost feel the words beaming into
you from the energy that put them down on paper. So, it is with song. It's like I told the lady at the church one day after drawing the number <i>39 </i>five times in a row when going to eat at the Community Kitchen. On the sixth visit, I drew 21. Upon sitting down at the table and just a few seconds later, the woman who had been handing out the stack of numbers came and put them to rest on the table where I was sitting. What was on top of the stack? <i>39</i>, of course. I told her, these are just little signs from above that everything is under control, and it's ok!<br />
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Shake It Off! Thank You! Next!<br />
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Previously Posted 2015:<br />
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<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2015/10/shake-it-off.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2015/10/shake-it-off.html</a><br />
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<br />
Song Birds Update:<br />
March 21, 2019<br />
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The string of "coincidents" continues, as of just moments and a few days ago, these things never cease to amaze me. It's just that, what are you supposed to do with them? So, I BLAHG!<br />
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Yes, major strings of "coincidents" I have seen as it relates to two artists I didn't even know who they were, Taylor Swift & Ariana Grande. I keep in touch with my father by calling once a week, just to check in. I told him about how I learned who Ariana Grande was. Of course, he didn't have a clue. However, by the next week, just last week, when I called again he said, "You're not gonna believe this, but just a couple of days after you called last, I went out for a walk", which is about all he can do now as he is getting up there, a few years past 39, for sure.<br />
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He continued to tell me what happened with, "I came upon a piece of paper lying on the ground, so I picked it up and do you know what it said?" I hadn't a clue what he was going to tell me but it was only two words, and those were "Ariana Grande". Just a random piece of paper lying on the ground it was, of course.<br />
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So, just an hour ago, I was having lunch with a couple of people I didn't know, but we started a conversation. He started it off talking about a guy he knew who funded his own tours, a country music artist, I had never heard of either. Today people have the freedom to listen to what they want to rather than being force fed what to listen to by the radio. Though, radio still has listenership, most people are building their own play lists and listening to a wide array of things.<br />
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We started talking about how they could make anybody a star if they wanted to, but some have a higher level of quality in their talent like Ariana Grande, and Taylor Swift, whom I mentioned in the original post prior to this update. I finished up my plate and as they did as well, grabbed my bag and bid farewell to them. The one guy there said, "Have a good day Buddy".<br />
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"You too", I responded and made my way to this desk top computer for an hour session I am using to report this latest in a continuing string of things that I don't know what to make of, but I feel like I'm gonna walk around the corner and both of them are going to standing there because of the frequency of these things that keep happening, but I have yet to meet any celebrities because of either coincidence, or dreams. So, I just write it down. What else am I supposed to do, right?<br />
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Anyway to wrap it up, as I walked back to town and I was passing by the food co-op store, I heard a voice behind me say, "Excuse me". As I turned to my left to see who it was, a man on a unicycle came rolling by, and if that's not enough he had music playing which was none other than Shake It Off by Taylor Swift. This, not even five minutes after I had told the people at lunch about this stuff!<br />
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That's all I gotta report, no jokes about it, but indeed impossible to ignore. So, if you have any ideas about what I can do other than post this BLAHG please let me know. Otherwise, just accept it as at least very entertaining for me personally because as far as I'm concerned I don't need television to entertain me when I can just walk down the street!<br />
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It's a beautiful day people!<br />
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Stay On Your Lily Pads!<br />
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And, once again, Shake It Off, and Thank You! NEXT!<br />
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As I believe these are both break up songs, the main message is to move forward. Releasing our pasts is a hard thing to do. You can never forget, even when you do forgive, but we must not be in bondage to things we cannot change lest we carry guilt over things that are now only memories.<br />
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I am reminded of the serenity prayer, as you may be too. In being granted serenity in accepting the things that can't be changed, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. And, watch out for the guy on a unicycle!<br />
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Amen<br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-37901273165912752122019-01-06T12:27:00.002-08:002019-01-18T06:33:11.074-08:00Huh? Wha?It all began with a broom in Boston. Feddie Spaghetti was sweeping the sidewalk as he usually does when he said, "I love my broom! It reminds me of that guy on tv that says, 'I love my blender', ha, ha... The thing is I know how to use a broom because when I was a kid, if I didn't do it right, my Mama would tear my ass up! God knows I love my broom. He was teaching me... You know? I don't know what he was teaching me, but if I didn't do it right my Mama would whip my ass"<br />
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"It must have been a foreshadowing of things to come", I said.<br />
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"Huh", Feddie responded.<br />
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"A foreshadowing... God knew one day you would be in front of this Subway. So, he taught you how to use a broom".<br />
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"Oh, yeah, a foreshadowing... Haha"<br />
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Meanwhile, Feddie continued to sweep, as I continued with a cotton swab in my ear. These are things you would normally do in the morning, in the comfort of your own home, but since I don't have a home, I just sneak it in discreetly. It only takes a few seconds, and you would just think I was scratching my ear anyway. Who am I going to offend?<br />
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I carry a hygiene kit in my bag including "Q-tips", otherwise known as cotton swabs. They're cotton balls on a stick. Life on the streets means you have to do your morning ritual in multiple locations. You just don't have the luxury of doing everything in one place, and on Sundays it's even tougher. Regardless, cleaning your ears is the last thing you're going to do in order of priority.<br />
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So, I sat there on the corner, cotton swab in ear, as Feddie swept the ground talking about his Mama and a broom, and how she would beat his ass with a belt if his sweeping job was less than acceptable!<br />
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I could relate to the belt. It reminded me of my own mother! I chimed in, "Speaking of foreshadowing, when I was about 10 years old we lived in a small town in North Georgia. Every year, there was a Fall festival and they would have a costume contest. That year, I entered the costume contest and I won! Do you know what I dressed up as?" <br />
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Feddie, took a wild guess, or two, and then said, "I give up. Save us the suspense". There was a third guy sitting there silently just listening in.<br />
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I said, "A Hobo", expecting to get a laugh.<br />
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"Ohh. Whew! That reminds me of Will Smith", I just listened because I had no idea what he was talking about. Feddie goes on rants sometimes and he doesn't stop until he completes his thought. I understand this. So, I didn't question him. I just let him continue.<br />
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He went on for a minute, or two. Beginning with the fact, he said, "Will Smith did that. Yeah. They offered him a million dollars to do that. It was only supposed to be for a second, but that kiss went on and on".<br />
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With sarcasm, I said, "Well, it's only acting, right"?<br />
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"Yeah, right, acting! But, that launched his career. From there, he went on to do Alien, and all those other movies. Just from one kiss his career skyrocketed".<br />
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As Feddie continued, I became more and more confused. <i>Why is he telling me this</i>, I wondered to myself. And, then it hit. I understood.<br />
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I interrupted him in mid-sentence, "Are you telling me Will Smith kissed another man in a movie?"<br />
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"Yeah. His career took off after that! From one kiss..."<br /><br />There was a pause, and then I finally said...<br />
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"I said, HO-BO, not HO-MO Feddie!!!"<br />
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"What? Oh, shit. I gotta get my hearing checked. I thought you said HOMO. Why did you let me go on", he asked.<br />
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"I didn't know what you were talking about man. Sometimes you go on, and I just listen, but then it hit me... He thought I said HOMO!"<br />
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I busted out laughing hard, bringing tears to my eyes!! "That's better than television Feddie". "Oh, my God! That's funny!"<br />
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By this point Feddie is laughing too, but I had to ask the question after gaining my composure, "Feddie, Feddie... I just gotta ask. Do you need a Q-tip?"<br />
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"Maybe four, or five would be better", he said.<br />
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The laughter continued...<br />
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On this, one of the first sunny days in Georgia in a long time, it all began with a broom from Boston, and a HOBO from Ball Ground, GA<br />
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Let the sun shine!Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-21704316623134362642019-01-05T07:32:00.000-08:002019-01-05T11:01:02.348-08:00StoryCorps Interview 2018<br />
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The time has come! A couple of months ago, I got the last slot on this tour and its first ever visit to Athens. The recorded stories are broadcasting on WUGA now, every Friday and Sunday. I'm not sure of the schedule, but I received a link to my session and will be distributing it myself as well.</div>
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Listen in for local stories from a few Athens, GA characters, including my own! My partner was not able to make it. So, they interviewed me themselves. I haven't listened to it yet, but from the experience, I'd say it was true to form.</div>
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And, remember... Don't be afraid to put fruit in your grits!</div>
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<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1GtS_B73Non5C4IjmTmgUVlJXd2vnQLUb/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">StoryCorp Interview 2018</a><br />
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For the full line-up, beginning with those currently being aired, visit this link to WUGA:<br />
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<a href="https://www.wuga.org/programs/storycorps-athens-stories" target="_blank">https://www.wuga.org/programs/storycorps-athens-stories</a><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-40925020145614443652018-11-26T09:03:00.000-08:002018-11-26T09:03:26.742-08:00Seeking ShelterEvery now and then, I feel like leaving this town, Athens, GA. Then, I remind myself, wherever I go I'm still homeless, even though I've convinced myself I'm home wherever I am...<br />
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As recently as last week, Thanksgiving, I was again facing the same feeling. After all the job leads from New York and New Jersey, and all the other things like Playboy models who once subscribed to my BLAHG years ago, when I started it, I thought about running away and chasing those glimmers of hope.<br />
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After my first two subscribers were Playboy models, I seriously considered going to Pacific Palisades, on a shoe string and without a hedonist bone in my body! The sign on the gate apparently said something like, "If you're not into swingin', then don't come a ringin'". That just grosses me out. It was at that point I decided I could never be a Hugh Hefner. Call me whatever you want, but I'm not ringin' on that gate.<br />
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So, ever since then, I've lived on the streets. I've even met some women of Playboy caliber, but I've also spent the last several years sleeping in the homeless shelter where there aren't any women of that caliber. Makes you re-consider the whole 'swingin'n & ringin'' concept... Barf!<br />
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I'm just not a macho man, I guess. Some would say, not much of a man. That's ok. I don't want to be a macho man anyway. I'm good with me like I am.<br />
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But, as I said, every now and then I feel like leaving this town, and then I face reality. On Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, I was feeling a little low, but not like it used to be. The Holidays are my least favorite time of year, and always have been, but I don't go into a dark dungeon in my mind any more. I just get a little low because I don't talk to certain people I would like to and things aren't exactly how I would like for them to be. Who can say differently, really? It's just that I'm part of that 1/2 of 1% of the population that happens to be homeless. Yet, I still hope for better days that just never seem to come.<br />
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This time, for whatever reason, I decided to investigate what the homeless situation is in the Florida Keys. I hate Florida. I hate the beach. I hate the humidity, but it is cold outside and getting colder this time of year in Georgia. This can make you long for warmer weather.<br />
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Upon searching out the Keys, I found a picture of the Homeless Shelter in Key West. It appears below. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLs20J_GqX5RRGulfrBoyMQetNHUByYjSU6-m3uXnutMsIgWkxIvduobXYdNOgqnUtOnxntX4RPlWI9YjldvvySmv7hBcxfY4t8PCuIP53cWcwQ0DoYiLAhNZfKRpUCyQxIChY69QPZWbI/s1600/kotsbeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="641" data-original-width="1140" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLs20J_GqX5RRGulfrBoyMQetNHUByYjSU6-m3uXnutMsIgWkxIvduobXYdNOgqnUtOnxntX4RPlWI9YjldvvySmv7hBcxfY4t8PCuIP53cWcwQ0DoYiLAhNZfKRpUCyQxIChY69QPZWbI/s320/kotsbeds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
According to the article I found in the Miami Herald, by Gwen Filosa, "<span class="caption-text">The Keys Overnight Temporary Shelter takes in about 100 people per night at 5537 College Road".</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">Apparently, the shelter is a bone of contention in the local community with an ongoing debate as to where to relocate it.</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">Looking at this picture makes me want to relocate elsewhere even before taking a step in that generally southern direction from Athens, GA. For comparison, he is a photo of the local Bigger Vision Winter shelter here in Athens, GA.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EggmTc4b2x9SjALJStL_94Uv654jKayZhqijiJFt8PQPWHEmIQwKQeXfFthB3qQ5314mHR_acm6VfpFJC9IzctaZLkdk7bfd1MuA1cxb0mE1niN-K6V3g-5SDibNElUVcm6Sjs1bkiIS/s1600/Photo+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="866" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EggmTc4b2x9SjALJStL_94Uv654jKayZhqijiJFt8PQPWHEmIQwKQeXfFthB3qQ5314mHR_acm6VfpFJC9IzctaZLkdk7bfd1MuA1cxb0mE1niN-K6V3g-5SDibNElUVcm6Sjs1bkiIS/s320/Photo+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="caption-text">As you will note, each bunk is a free standing unit, instead of several jailhouse like mattress pads on a wooden platform in what looks like a simple metal building that I somehow doubt is Hurrican proof! The Bigger Vision shelter even includes a book case.</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">The space you see is a quiet space, to be treated as a library; not a place for loud, or ongoing conversations. There is a separate area for those who want </span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">to talk, though that policy must be reinforced on a regular basis. Generally, speaking it is a Quiet Zone. If you live on the streets one of the first things you learn is the leaf blowers start at 4am. It is a very noisy small town. It makes you wonder why all these petroleum devices are often so noisy, though automobiles have made great strides in recent years in quieting things down. Now, that electric and hybrid vehicles are on the streets that barely make any sound, it has really made a dramatic difference, but the leaf blowers are still obscenely noisy beginning at 4am. I hope I see the day when noisy makers no longer exist except in cases of calamity, just not in routine order.</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">That being said, you can see from the picture why I'd rather be in Athens, especially since I don't live in the Playboy Mansion, and I'm not a swinger! That reminds me of my post from just a couple of days ago too. When, at the end, I refrained from going further with my top ten list about Being Poor, where I said that poor people like to share their sexual partners, and that ketchup was the bridge between rich and poor, but a sticky road it is to travel. Hey, there's another thing rich and poor have in common. Often times, they both like to share sex partners!<br /><br />Read "Being Poor" Here:</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text"><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/11/being-poor.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/11/being-poor.html</a></span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">Once again, I have reached the point of enough being said. And, while my search for shelter is a daily occurrence, especially in the colder months when sleeping outside can be intolerable depending on the time of year, neither of these places looks like this place.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAk2AETrcSAsO3ca_10O6mPo0kj2BAPYXfGMXCALzMoMW3HNIin7Ttmq1fAfNanFf0rA2gcuPVHzXdZt5Z1jIYg7YMc5xbCgO8HkqpQ6OfEkZ_qCtKHqRgtbOWbY621FyYlMomejSfcef/s1600/Playboy_Mansion_North_Side_2007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAk2AETrcSAsO3ca_10O6mPo0kj2BAPYXfGMXCALzMoMW3HNIin7Ttmq1fAfNanFf0rA2gcuPVHzXdZt5Z1jIYg7YMc5xbCgO8HkqpQ6OfEkZ_qCtKHqRgtbOWbY621FyYlMomejSfcef/s640/Playboy_Mansion_North_Side_2007.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="caption-text">When it's all said and done with, I've stuck around this town for as long as I have to have gained my mental health. I've walked over thirty thousand miles either working, or just trying to survive. Street Life, like suburban, is a run around, you've probably heard me say... Only it's without a car! If you have standards like mine, your selection is limited to say the least, if you're looking for a comparable partner. And, taking a comfortable nap is just about out of the question. So, sleep becomes quite a treasure. Having spent the majority of my life, <i>until I turned 39</i>... being duped by people who use Jesus name to justify every outrageous thing they do in the pursuit of happiness and material possessions, one thing is for sure, I really don't think they get too much sleep here anyway.</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">That's the trade off I've made, sleep over sex! I mean, it's not like I'm a virgin. I'm just damned tired!</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">Thank you Bigger Vision!</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text">Dolly 2020</span><br />
<span class="caption-text">When We See Clearly</span><br />
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<span class="caption-text"><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/11/dolly-2020.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/11/dolly-2020.html</a> </span><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-68940280869916485612018-11-23T10:10:00.001-08:002019-01-15T07:31:38.197-08:00Being PoorBeing poor is immediately defined as not having any money, but a deeper more sincere definition occurs. Being of a poor mind is the truly defining characteristic of poverty, a poor spirit is never rich.<br />
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It's not about having money, or even not having money. Heck, I've been broke for nearly twelve years now, but I'm not poor! Being poor is a mindset, really. But, over the years, I have truly been able to be around truly poor people. In hindsight, I see now, even before my life on the streets, I knew poor people before who had lots of stuff!<br />
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Truly poor people get stuck in a way of doing things and never seek change. There is a certain sense of security in being poor and constantly surrounding yourself with others who maybe, speak just like you. Poor people definitely have a way of speaking.<br />
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On that note, I have compiled a list of the top ten characteristics, or traits of being poor!<br />
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<b><u>Traits of Poor People</u></b><br />
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Trait Number 1:<br />
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Poor people, no matter what color they are, have a certain way of speaking. With every statement someone makes, the response from a poor person is always the same, though there are variations, but most limited to either HUH?, or WHA?<br />
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Somehow this extends a conversation by at least two times depending on how many HUHz and WHAz are asked in response to what is usually an unintelligible statement made by another poor person. However, it doesn't matter because if you are not a poor person and you speak plain English, a poor person will still reply with HUH?, or WHA?<br />
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Apparently, it really means, I like spending time with you. Let's spend even more time together repeating ourselves over and over again!<br />
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Trait Number 2:<br />
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Poor people love to ask others what time it is. Or, it may be a question of what the date is. Every now and then, people can't remember the date, but when you're sitting at a computer and you ask the person next to you what time, or date it is, you're not only poor, but you're a f*cking moron and you probably love the president.<br />
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And, if you want to know what time it is, and you won't ask the computer instead, it's time to get a f*cking watch, ok? By the way, don't ask me what time it is!<br />
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Trait Number 3:<br />
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Poor people love to BARREY INK PENS. Borrowing ink pens is not exclusive to poor people. Many people don't carry pens, and want to borrow one from someone else. These people are not usually poor, but they are needy and not prepared for life, which is kinda like being poor. Carrying a pen is essential in this world even though smart phone and digital signatures are changing things, a pen will no longer be sufficient and a stylus may be in order. However, when you BARREY an INK PEN, ask yourself HUH? Is there any other kind of pen? Perhaps, they are referencing fountain pens, or quills since they are so frequently used these days and have to differentiate to make things clear. All I know is poor people always want to BARREY INK PENS<br />
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Trait Number 4:<br />
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Poor people love ketchup, en masse. Some rich people love ketchup, but pretty much all poor people love ketchup. Ketchup is the bridge between rich and poor and it is a sticky bridge being filled with corn syrup. But, if you say HUH? and WHA? enough, you'll probably get all the way across the bridge without missing a beat in the conversation.<br />
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Trait Number 5:<br />
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Poor people look funny in high end automobiles. Have you ever seen a poor person sitting in a Mercedes-Benz? It just doesn't look right, and it makes a horrible sound when you're riding across a sticky bridge!<br />
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Trait Number 6:<br />
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Poor people love noise. Silence is scary. If a poor person has a home, one thing is pretty much assured, the tv is always on, and probably tuned to FOX news.<br />
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Trait Number 7:<br />
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Poor people smoke A LOT!!! Usually, poor people are chain smokers and often times end up with COPD which then leads to frequent visits to the "doctor", otherwise known as the emergency room, where they are "caught" and "released" because they generally don't have any insurance. So, like fish and <i>homeless veterans</i>, the system just throws them out.<br />
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Trait Number 8:<br />
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Poor people will accept just about anything that is free. There's that neediness again. Seriously, you can offer a poor person a sack of dog shit, and they'll take it, if it's FREE!<br />
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Trait Number 9:<br />
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Poor people won't eat anything they don't recognize from a tv commercial, or a Mickey Dz menu. Do not try to get a poor person to eat Hummus, or Edamame. They will not eat it, unless it has golden arches on it and that's never going to happen!<br />
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Trait Number 10:<br />
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Poor people love to say HELL YEAH, as in, HELL YEAH... Well, for just about anything. It works kind of like HUH? and WHA?, but instead of looking for a repeated statement, they want others to join in and say HELL YEAH too... Which is a repeated statement, except by someone else! It creates unity in poverty, and, for some reason, votes for the president.<br />
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...<br />
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I could go on, but then I have to start talking about sex and while most poor men will have sex with anything with two legs and a hole between them, poor women are more selective. They just prefer to be sure their new mates get along well with their old ones since they travel in packs.<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving!<br />
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HELL YEAH, HUH?<br />
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Remember, there's not steak, or ketchup at the soup kitchen, even on Veterans Day...<br />
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<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/11/just-two-or-three-years-ago-in-2004.html" target="_blank">HUH? WHA? HUH? WHA? HUH? WHA? HUH? WHA?</a><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-21462757291518426682018-11-12T07:54:00.000-08:002018-11-14T08:08:43.262-08:00Just Two, or Three Years Ago, in 2004...<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="1s1n2" data-offset-key="bgj3s-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Facebook keeps serving up posts from two, or three years ago that are actually posts from 2004, fifteen years ago; now going on sixteen years. I used this doctored up pic for my profile pic. I enhanced it, a SELFIE- one of my few ever taken, because I am really bothered by the whole SELFIE thing. Before SELFIES, people used to engage someone on the street to get them to take a picture for them. It was a social engagement we seem to have lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, there are plenty of freaks out there, but I don't think there are really anymore than ever before. It's just that with the immediacy by which we receive information now, we see more of them than ever before. Freaks have always been here, and to some degree, we're all freaks. Dolly Parton counts herself as a freak and loves freaks. After all, this is not a theocracy, and it never has been a theocracy. Therefore, we have all these Dolly Parton fans running around who love to dress up as her!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm not one of those kinds of freaks, but I understand freaks as part of the fabric of American society. What was it Mel Brooks said in the Producers... "Let's face it--without Jews, fags and gypsies, there would be no theater!" This reference makes no mention of freaks, except in a way. Certainly, Jews, homosexuals, and gypsies are a minority of our American population. Just as are people who have learned to think for themselves... I'm one of those who thinks for himself, only after absorbing and discarding information.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Garbage in, garbage out is ambiguous. It could mean, you are what you eat. It could also mean, you partly are, but you discard certain things you just can't agree with. Like my grandmother was quoted as saying in her high school yearbook, "Take it all in. Consider it. Believe as you please". Some people will gladly accept anything that's free, even if it's a sack of sh*t. Other people will not accept a sack of sh*t. Get it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Nobody has a lock on the truth. Our forefathers came to this land escaping religious persecution, mainly because they seemed to think they had a lock on the truth. The Pilgrims were forced to leave the theocratic state and the Church of England. In some cultures, they would have just killed them. Instead, they put them on a boat to see if the earth was really flat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What did we learn? There are people who still claim the earth is flat! After all that, we're still stuck in our ways of thinking as archaic as they may be. And, while we did have the Salem witch trials, we generally don't worry about witches anymore, and we certainly don't kill our gay people like they do in many theocracies around the world. What we do still do, is create the poor, and hand them a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and say, "Stay dry"! Or, "Stay warm", </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">witch</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">ever applies for the day! And, then, finish it off with, "Now, go get a job and fend for yourself! Just look at the president! He's a self-made man"...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, you may, or may not agree with that. But, one thing is for sure. Everyone has a bad hair day. It's just that his happened to be on Armistice Day in France when he decided the weather was too bad for visiting the grave sites of fallen soldiers from World War I. The next day he went it alone, separating himself from the crowd of world leaders who cannot understand him anymore than any sane American can. How me maintains a base after all of his absurdities is not understandable. It seems to me it is a refusal to admit they were wrong, and will stick to their guns regardless.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The guilt must be overwhelming to have to stick to your guns against a populace that is largely unarmed, and doesn't feel the need to bear any arms other than <span style="font-family: inherit;">the arms</span> they were born with. Why is it the most ardent proponents of the second amendment seem to be carrying a huge amount of guilt for something? Is it for using the Pilgrims as guinea pigs? Or, is it for creating the <span style="font-family: inherit;">T</span>rail of <span style="font-family: inherit;">T</span>ears? Is it for believing in the myth of self-sufficiency? I mean, how self-sufficient are you if you wouldn't get on the Mayflower yourself before having it proven that the earth is not flat? How self-sufficient are you if you had to bring slaves to build the new world when you should have done it yourselves? When will you stop pitching and believing the lies of billionaires who won't even show up because of inclement weather? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, this presidency has certainly done one thing thing. It has brought to light that every individual, every generation, comes to a point where you either embrace bullsh*t, or you reject it. It is clear, that at least 1/3 of us embrace it. Remember that, when you walking down the street. One in three of us, AT LEAST, embrace bullsh*t. It is unclear what the non-voting crowd thinks. Many of them are Libertarian, and militia members who reject the US Government and it's system of law. I understand them, but I'm not a Libertarian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many of them are self-deemed Constitutionalists, which seems to take a fundamentalist view of the Constitution like Christian Fundamentalists take a view of the Bible, literally, and rigidly<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. B</span>oth the Bible and the Constitution are more than rigid, filled with room for interpretation, and even, in the case of the Bible with allegory<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, </span>all too often taken literally. It is the message, the WORD, that matters. The WORD does not mean, "word" like these words I'm writing, or the words written anywhere else. That brings the literary aspect to the <i>world's greatest book</i>, which is a hard pill for someone to swallow, if they think that means you really have to swallow a pill.
It means, if you want to stop being crazy and willing to blow things up for your particular religious beliefs, you'd better be right against all thirty thousand flavors of Christianity on the globe, and against all other religions. Personally, I believe the WORD is above all religion, while it permeates all existence, and religion, in these things it leaves us with after we cannot answer all the questions, namely: love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness & self-control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After all of your, and my, existence cannot explain everything, we are left with these things to live on. At first they are merely words, until they are born out from you to form the WORD in you. Like the left eventually meets the right and both see the center<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> and begin</span> clinging to one<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> an</span>other<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">W</span></span>e find peace is in the middle, between the stomping of the gas pedal and the slamming on the brakes. So, what we have to get to in all of this mumbo-jumbo is manners and respect, for ourselves and for one another. If you want to dress up like Dolly Parton, go for it. Just don't come calling on me in a dimly lit bar one night! Unless it's a gay bar, and rest assured you're not <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">going to find me <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">in one of those, unless someone punks me!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And, if you want to go to church on Sunday, or Saturday, and not consume alcoholic beverages, don't think of yourself more highly than you ought just because you don't drink. The arrogant Christian is just as abominable as the homosexuality they tend to hate. Throw the first stone if you think your abstinence makes you superior. It's often your sons and daughters who are puking in the streets because they can't handle their Sake<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> becaus<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">e they were s<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">heltered from the <i>wine that makes the heart of man glad</i>...</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yes, we live in a nation, and even a world full of freaks. Religion makes freaks of us. Life itself makes freaks of us. And, in the end, God loves Hee-Haw. Yet, like capitalism, that horse, that donkey, that mule, needs bridles. Otherwise, it runs wild...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">United States Soldiers pay tribute to the </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">8 million Horses, Donkeys, and Mules that lost their lives </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">during World War I, 1918, One Hundred Years Ago</span></div>
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Source:<br />
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Historical Pictures<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/PicturesHistorical/" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/PicturesHistorical/</a></div>
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In Observance of Veterans Day</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, can we please escort the Horse's Ass In Chief out of the building and show him the streets where he can fend for himself in all his self-sufficiency<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">?</span> But, let him be forewarned, they don't serve steak at the soup kitchen, they very seldom have ketchup, and they will put you out in the rain even if you're a veteran.</span><br />
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Theatre?<br />
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<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1983/12/16/nazis-and-nonsense/8f028a93-904b-40da-a165-7ec8caf75a1d/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.0a136a4b9fa7" target="_blank">https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1983/12/16/nazis-and-nonsense/8f028a93-904b-40da-a165-7ec8caf75a1d/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.0a136a4b9fa7</a><br />
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BLAHG, BLAHG, BLAHG!<br />
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<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/11/dolly-2020.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/11/dolly-2020.html</a></div>
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-90233230080219018142018-10-19T12:08:00.001-07:002018-11-23T08:28:17.152-08:00SynchronicitySynchronicity is something you experience in life, and might often just write it off as coincidence. But, when things happen so often, and seem to defy the odds entirely, it's hard to write things off to chance. For instance, on Friday of last week I was sitting downtown when a woman I hadn't seen in over a year was walking. She said, "Hey Gabe! How are you doing?"<br />
<br />
I was not in a very jovial mood, I gotta admit. My father recently told me that my biggest problem in life was that I wasn't very good at tolerating bullsh*t. I, in total agreement, said with a HA, "You just hit the nail on the head Pops".<br />
<br />
Then, she asked, "Where are you working", and that's what was making me blue.<br />
<br />
Being stuck on the streets in a college town for twelve years, and having worked several jobs that don't pay enough to provide a standard of living, I had just walked out on another one due to some major bullsh*t. My background is primarily Advertising. I'm not quite sure if I jumped out of the corporate nest, or if I was pushed. It doesn't matter, because I landed on the streets on my feet, rather than in the grave. The only problem is once you hit the streets, there are only two ways to get off: by success, or by death.<br />
<br />
Wages are ridiculously low for even someone just trying to pay the rent. If you have additional responsibilities, it is additionally ridiculous. And, what it takes to eat, and keep clean, only makes matters worse. Someone with a home, can shower, eat, and even do a load of clothes in an hour. It takes six hours to do the same thing for someone on the street because of all the running around; which is really walking around because these legs can't run anymore. It's hard enough just to stand up!<br />
<br />
Anyway, this is where I landed, and this is where I remain, long enough to see the synchronicity seemingly grow stronger by the day. I was working at a local restaurant for a short time. Yes, I faced some unnecessary bullsh*t and after working four nights in a row until 2am, I was already exhausted. When I arrived for my fifth shift in a row, it was a morning shift. Going on two to three hours of sleep for four nights in a row will tend to wear you out. This fifth shift was tough to make, and I was in no mood for BS.<br />
<br />
I'm a street person. I don't have the luxury of sleeping in all day after working until 2am, and it's not like you just go to sleep at 2am. You have to unwind. I remember one morning falling asleep around 4am, and then another at 5am. Yet, I have to be up by at least seven a.m. or risk being discovered and possibly barred from a location. It wouldn't be the first time. My entire arrest record is centered around this issue, but ends up being called Criminal Trespassing because I return to a spot that works when I was told not to. It's not easy to find good spots to sleep. So, you try as best you can to stay out of sight, and get out of sight, before the beginning of the business day. Unless, you're going downtown to the square to sit there until you find the next job that won't pay the rent either.<br />
<br />
That's where I was when this woman I know named Shannon, walked by and stopped to talk for a minute. She asked where I was working. I told her what happened. "They tried to kill me", I said.<br />
<br />
"You mean, they were overworking you", she tried to understand.<br />
<br />
"No. I mean literally", I clarified. "Actually, they tried to get me to kill myself".<br />
<br />
"What do you mean", she inquired.<br />
<br />
"Well, someone stole my bag. There's been a rash of thefts from street people lately. I know at least five people who have had their bags stolen".<br />
<br />
The woman nods with understanding as I'm saying this.<br />
<br />
"Why someone wants to steal a street person's bag, I don't know. The best they're going to get is a phone charger, and maybe some dirty socks that need to be washed. I think they should be shot".<br />
<br />
"That's a little harsh, don't you think Gabe", she checked...<br />
<br />
"Not really. Go steal from Donald Trump instead", I responded.<br />
<br />
She just kind of laughed.<br />
<br />
"Anyway, my uniform was in my bag. I showed up for work just to show them I wasn't lying, instead of calling in, you know?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah...", she awaited further explanation.<br />
<br />
"I told them what happened. They understood. They agreed to get me an Uber and send me to Wal*Mart for some new clothes. Just what I wanted to spend my money on AGAIN". But, I thought that was pretty cool. We hadn't been there for ten minutes, when out of the back came one of the trainers in town to get the place set up calling me to the back saying he needed someone taller than him. I've been trained on most all the stations, but I don't know everything. There are vents above the fryers. Three were missing and needed to be installed. I had never done that before. So, I asked, "How do you do it"<br />
<br />
I'm wearing shorts and flip flops. He says, "Just jump up there". <br />
<br />
There's about a six inch wide work space in the front. I didn't think anything of it. So, I took of the flip flops and jumped right up there. I asked him what I was supposed to do next. He said to just put them in with some vague instruction as to how. So, I leaned across to the back of the fryer to check my balance before stepping across. The damned thing was hot!"<br />
<br />
"What", she exclaimed horror with her question.<br />
<br />
"Yeah! Can you believe that? He never said a word about it being hot. Not even a 'Be careful'. That's just plain evil. He's the trainer, right?"<br />
<br />
"Not only is it evil. It's probably illegal", she added<br />
<br />
"Well, I should have thought about it myself, you know? But, he's the trainer, and I never worked in a kitchen before. We hadn't been there ten minutes. That grease apparently doesn't steam, or boil. It just sits still and friendly looking"<br />
<br />
"Oh my God", she understood why I had walked away.<br />
<br />
"Oh, that's not all. I actually stuck around another two weeks, until a series of other things happened, and then after working those four nights in a row, I just wasn't in the mood for any other crapola".<br />
<br />
She was actually standing there with her jaw dropped.<br />
<br />
"I said the good news is I got to do Rabbit Box a couple of nights ago and NPR was in town. Turns out they broadcast it on WUGA. They had a Story Slam. I didn't win, but I did good and I had a good time. They put names in a bag and drew them out. Ten people got to go up. I was number nine. And, I got to draw the last name. I drew the name of a woman I had done this with last October when Irma blew through. Turns out, she won the whole thing and gets to go to New York to perform there!"<br />
<br />
"That's great", she concurred.<br />
<br />
"Oh, by the way, they said something was going on the rest of the month. Robin, the woman who won, told me about something..."<br />
<br />
"Wait a minute... Yeah, Story Corp! They're also affiliated with NPR. You go on their website to sign up for a slot", she informed me.<br />
<br />
"Are you doing it", I asked.<br />
<br />
"Yes. Yes, I am. It's at the library, the regional library for the next thirty days", she confirmed<br />
<br />
"Thanks Shannon! I couldn't remember what they guy said the other night because I was going over my spiel in my head and I just didn't process it". <br />
<br />
"Oh, I know. Whenever I do public speaking I go into another zone before I go up", she concurred. "You take care Gabe. I gotta get going", and off she went.<br />
<br />
"Will do", I said, as she left.<br />
<br />
So, I picked up the phone and got through to one of the call center representatives who booked me for one of the last two slots. The synchronicity of things left ignored, are just neat little moments, otherwise seized, may result in something of significance.<br />
<br />
The next day was Saturday. As I walked uptown from breakfast, I noticed they were setting up a stage at the end of Washington St. I wondered what was going on, but didn't ask. I proceeded up the block and went to the square in the heart of town and worked on a Sudoku puzzle until about noon. By then, I was ready for a beer. So, I made my way over to Fuzzy's where I sat down and continued working on my puzzle when after I had nearly finished a second beer, I heard a voice saying "Hey Gabe". It was Shannon again, only now she had three kids, her husband, and her mom with her.<br />
<br />
I said hello, and then they went outside to get their table on the patio. I cleaned up in the bathroom after finishing my beer and then went outside to speak further. After meeting everyone, I told them what happened at the Foundry the other night, and how I got to tell the story about Scandalous Grits!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/10/scandalous-grits.html" target="_blank">Scandalous Grits</a><br />
<br />
By the end of it, she only had one word to say and that was, "Interesting".<br />
<br />
She asked, "Are you going to Latinxfest". <br />
<br />
"Is that what's going on down there? I wondered, but I'm all about that", having always had an affinity for the Latino community.<br />
<br />
She confirmed it was, and said, "I'm going down there right now", which I did.<br />
<br />
I didn't stay long, but enjoyed some traditional dances, la musica, and even a Latin Reggae Rapper, yo?<br />
<br />
The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully, which is fine by me. <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Don't Want No Drama Ma... T</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
The next day was Sunday, of course. As I made my way to the computer lab, I pass a play ground where there are usually families out with their kids playing. I was passing by when I heard a familiar voice call out, "Hey Gabe". It was Shannon and her family AGAIN.<br />
<br />
I can't see faces very well, but I immediately said, "Hey", in return. She said, "It's Shannon! I swear we're not following you". <br />
<br />
"Oh My God", I said.<br />
<br />
"What does it mean", she asked, kiddingly .<br />
<br />
That's the thing about it. When things happen hyper coincidentally, I call it synchronicity. I just pointed to the sky and said, "It means there is a God".<br />
<br />
She said, "I know", and that was that.<br />
<br />
Bewildered, and shaking my head, I waved goodbye and proceeded to my destination where I spent the rest of the afternoon in peace at the keyboard.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
The next week began and I went to my usual spot downtown when I don't have anything else to do. I left the spot where I was sitting and headed to the Sparrows Nest. It was a Wednesday, the last day of the week to take advantage of the clothes closet. The overnight temperature was to drop to fifty degrees which meant I needed an extra layer of clothing. It was too early to get a winter jacket because by the next afternoon it will be 80 degrees and that just means having to carry around an extra piece of clothing. You don't need to get the jacket until it's consistently cold enough to wear it through the season. <br />
<br />
As I was heading that way, I saw a figure heading in my direction. I recognized her hair, and thought it was Robin, the woman who won the story slam; whose name I had drawn out of the bag. As I got closer, she waved, and then I knew it was her. I stopped and then I remembered it was her that had originally told me about Story Corps. I told her I had just spoken to Shannon and she had also mentioned it. Synchronicity. <br />
<br />
We parted, and I continued on my path to the Nest. I got there and found the perfect sweater and even a hat that basically matched. I tell you, I might be a street person, but I dress well, thanks to the donations made by the community. I guess that makes me a bigger <i>fake </i>than the president, but if nothing else, when you do a <i>tour of duty</i> on the streets, maintain your dignity. There are those who refuse to bathe. I can't go there. In fact, my hygiene is probably better now, than it was when I lived in a house in a swim and tennis community. There aren't any skid marks in my underwear, but I haven't had those since I was a child anyway. It's a conscious effort to avoid such things.<br />
<br />
I got the sweater and then spent the next couple of hours there grooming and drinking coffee, and talking with Boo-Boo, my food angel, I call him. When I first hit the streets, it was <i>him </i>that pointed me in the direction of all the food resources, and beyond.<br />
<br />
<i>Coincidentally</i>, I wanted something wholesome to eat. Athens is a food desert in terms of wholesome nutritious food. If you're on foot, there's only one place to go and that's the Daily Food Coo-op where they take food stamps. I have a balance remaining on my card. So, I started that way which is about a ten minute walk. As, I approached the co-op, there she was again, two hours later, Robin, the winner of the story slam! She was on the phone, but I wanted to get her number because all this synchronicity is going on and she's part of it. "Can I have your phone number please", I asked quietly so as not to interrupt her conversation too much.<br />
<br />
"Hold on Mom", she said, "Do you have it", she asked.<br />
<br />
"No, I don't have it, but I'm ready. I think you probably know more about what's going on than I do. So, I wanted to keep in touch". <br />
<br />
I later sent her a message saying that if she knew about anything that I might be doing to further this public speaking thing, please let me know. She responded affirmatively, and that was that. I don't have regular access to the Internet. My SEMI-SMART PHONE allows Internet access, but it's kind of a pain to use and the only thing you can really access is Facebook. Any websites I've ever tried to visit always get rejected saying that they're too large to download.<br />
<br />
I'm kind of glad about. Since losing my smart phone, I spend considerably less time online, therefore less time on Facebook. It can become an addiction and to walk away from it will leave you with a sense of relief, unless you already addicted. Then, you might actually freak out. <br />
<br />
That was that.<br />
<br />
I then proceeded to the computer lab to check in. <br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Backing up for a moment, the Ms. Sorority Row contest is held at UGA each year in November. It was in 2016, after listening to all the crapola of the presidential election that I finally decided who I was going to vote for... Or, more properly "for whom I was going to vote", but don't ask me to use proper mechanics. I write the way I speak. I had to work the night of the 2016 contest, but it was still morning and it was time for breakfast. I made my way to the 1st Baptist Church, home of the Our Daily Bread Community Kitchen.<br />
<br />
I got my plate and sat down at an unoccupied table, when another fella joined me. Just to make conversation, I made the announcement to him that I had finally decided who it was I was going to vote for. He just looked at me like, ok, go ahead... And, I said, "After much thought and consideration I've decided I'm voting for none other than Dolly Parton! Dolly 2020, When We See Clearly!!<br />
<br />
He chuckled, and then he said, "You might not believe this, but I was a radio station manager in Pigeon Forge and we had Dolly in the studio one time. Most people don't know this, but she was awarded an honorary degree from Carson-Newman university for her work in philanthropy through her Imagination Library. They send out millions of books to children in hopes of ending illiteracy, or minimizing it.<br />
<br />
I'm just sitting there looking dumbfounded at this point. He must have seen the look on my face and then said, "I can show you my credentials". I said, "No man, no. Anybody who can say something like that up on the fly has to be telling the truth". He insisted on showing me his ID, and another piece of identification showing his media credentials. We sat there and finished breakfast, and parted with a handshake.<br />
<br />
I then went to the computer lab to confirm what he said, and sure enough, he wasn't making anything up.<br />
<br />
Wow, Synchronicity!<br />
<br />
So, the day went by and it was time to go to work. The sun had set and I was at the gate talking to the kid working it, telling him about this whole thing. He's a student at UGA, so probably twenty, or so. I asked him if he knew who Dolly Parton is. To my surprise, he said yes. His parents listened to Dolly while he was growing up, so he knew exactly who she was. You never know these days. So, I asked. As I finished telling him about the whole breakfast experience, I told him I had made my decision as to who I was voting for and it was Dolly Parton!!!<br />
<br />
He kinda smiled, but didn't laugh. He just agreed, and said, "Yeah man. I can dig it!".<br />
<br />
Immediately, as he concurred, you could hear a voice from the stage inside begin to sing "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene". We both just looked at each other in amazement! This kid just said, "It must mean something Gabe". I just lit a cigarette, looking at him and shaking my head as I walked away to walk it off basically. I made my way to the office, signed into Facebook, where suddenly at the top of the list on my Timeline was notice for none other than Dolly Parton's Imagination Library...<br />
<br />
Just a strange coincidence, right?<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Well, that was then, and this is now nearly two years later. Just two days ago, I was doing my computer time once again. If I'm lucky, I get a couple of hours a day. Sometimes more, but I can hardly take it unless I'm writing. I can't even stand watching news reports anymore. Not that they're fake to me. It's just the Barf Show and not worth my time, or frustration. I can't control it, but I can refuse to watch it. That's what I do.<br />
<br />
So, one of my favorite Baristas in the world worked at Starbucks. Both have now moved on to bigger and better things. One reported to me for her community service when she got in trouble once. That's why I started going in there again. That's where I also met Little Miss America, a five foot tall firecracker who after hearing her speak and laugh out loud, she served me a cup of coffee for the first time. I told her then, I said, "I don't know what your major is, but it oughta be Theatre".<br />
<br />
To which, with mucho gusto, she said, "IT IS".<br />
<br />
"You'll be on Broadway one day", I said.<br />
<br />
She just smiled with gratitude, a coy look, but appreciative.<br />
<br />
So, we befriended each other on Facebook, as I have many young women, and even some young men from UGA I have had the pleasure of meeting and even bonded with over the years. There's a certain energy that you can sense kindred spirits and it may take years to recognize that it is an extra sensory perception, of sorts, for lack of a better term.<br />
<br />
I have followed the careers of several, what are now, UGA alumni. But, just the day before yesterday Little Miss America posted a picture of her walking down 44th St. in New York City toward the Shubert Theatre. Half a block ahead of her, you could see the sign, and what was she going to see???<br />
<br />
What else, but, "Hello Dolly", starring Bernadette Peters. Now, Dolly Parton is a household name, so young people know that name more than they know Bernadette Peters, but if you ask a twenty something if they've ever seen the movie The Jerk, many of them have. And, then you just explain that's Navin's wife, and then they know exactly who Bernadette is.<br />
<br />
Hello Dolly? Are you kidding me? And, Little Miss America, and Bernadette Peters??? <br />
<br />
All I can say to that is:<br />
<br />
<b>Dolly 2020</b><br />
<b>When We See Clearly</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
If that's not enough already, I finished my computer session and walked downtown where it wasn't five minutes later and before I could even take a seat, I'm standing there looking down toward North Campus where the Starbucks is, as a matter of fact, when a young woman comes walking up the street wearing a white t-shirt with these words printed on the front:<br />
<br />
<b>Dolly Parton Vibes</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I stopped her briefly, and said, "This might not make a lot of sense to you, but I have one thing to say, "Dolly 2020, When We See Clearly". She just said, "Yeah", and proceeded along her way.<br />
<br />
I sat down next to a friend of mine and asked him if he saw the t-shirt. He said, "no". So, I told him this story you just read.<br />
<br />
<b>Synchronicity</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/11/dolly-2020.html" target="_blank">Dolly 2020! When We See Clearly!</a></b><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-9503124103147899652018-10-15T11:13:00.000-07:002018-10-30T06:17:35.315-07:00Scandalous GritsIt is scandalous we have people on the streets of America. It is scandalous we have people stealing from street people. It is scandalous to disturb the peace with GRITS!<br />
<br />
Regardless, of how many homeless people there are in America, there are too many. A day in the life of a street person begins around 5:30, or 6:00am. The first thing one has to do is find a bathroom. Imagine that, if you will.<br />
<br />
Then, if you're fortunate enough to be poor in America, you wait for breakfast which is served after 8:00am. Between waking up, taking a crap, and eating breakfast, you might smoke, or some just go ahead and start drinking, and never go to breakfast. The beer store opens at 7am.<br />
<br />
However, on any given Saturday morning, you might find yourself at the Sparrow's Nest for breakfast. It's usually really good. You listen to a short sermon and then breakfast is served.<br />
<br />
Now, mind you, I spent a great portion of my life living in a BLUR! I had a beer in one hand and a Bible in the other. Antihistamines, allergies and a horrible case of un-diagnosed ADD, made it so that my mind could not slow down enough to see straight. I'm not sure, how I survived, but it has taken twelve years on the streets to reach a place of mental clarity, and the disappearance of those horrible environmental allergies.<br />
<br />
See, there are only two kinds of people in the whole wide world. There are the people from the Department of Peace, the DOP. And, there are people from the Department of Piss People Off, the DOPPO. I'm not here to piss anybody off, but upon entering the kitchen after the short sermon one Saturday morning, I grabbed a plate full of food in one hand, and a bowl of grits in the other. I only have two hands. So, when I turned to the lady who was at the next station she had a spoon and a bowl full of fresh fruit; watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew.<br />
<br />
She asked, "Would you like some fresh fruit?".<br />
<br />
I said, "Yes, I would like some fresh fruit."<br />
<br />
She then asked, "Where would you like for me to put it?"<br />
<br />
I look down quickly and told her, "Just dump them in the GRITS!"<br />
<br />
It was as if you could hear the air leaking out of a tire, with a gasp she reacted! It was as if I had broken some federal law! And, then I sat down at my table and proceeded to sprinkle black pepper on them! Again, with another gasp, she came walking past where I was sitting.<br />
<br />
"You're not from the South, are you", she quizzed me.<br />
<br />
I said, "Ma'am... I'm not sure I'm from this planet!"<br />
<br />
I don't read the Bible much anymore, but I remember one thing it says, "Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess, Jesus Christ is Lord". I got down on one knee and quoted this passage as I told this story at an NPR hosted event at our local storyteller showcase called Rabbit Box in association with The Moth out of New York.<br />
<br />
As I returned to my feet and the microphone, I continued, "And, if a knee is good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for the flag!"<br />
<br />
The sold out venue was almost silent on that remark except for one guy who let out a clap and an enthusiastic WHEW!<br />
<br />
"I have one more thing to say", I explained. And, that is, "Kiss my Scandalous GRITS"! <br />
<br />
They laughed!<br />
<br />
It's hard breaking tradition, especially when you don't really know you're doing it. I am reminded of Christ and his disciples walking through the wheat fields on the Sabbath day plucking heads of wheat. The ruling elite came to them in the fields accusing them of breaking Sabbath law by working. The band of brothers must have shaken their heads in disbelief. But, if you think about it, who was really working that day?<br />
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To Read More:<br /><br /><b>Synchronicity</b><br /><br /><a href="https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/10/synchronicity.html" target="_blank">https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/10/synchronicity.html</a><br /><br /><br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-24014251651999727752018-08-13T11:10:00.004-07:002020-02-22T07:32:02.359-08:00Living PositiveIn preparation for Rabbit Box in September, I began this piece, but was informed Living Positive is for those living with HIV. Thankfully, I'm <b>not </b>dealing with that and my plight is simply street life. But, if you can, imagine life as a BLUR, a scatter brained existence to the point where
you can't even sit down and fold a basket of clothes because something
would distract you and you spend your whole life bouncing around like a
rubber ball stuck in a room; not getting anywhere, but constantly moving
from one thing to the next and never getting anything done, then you can understand the debilitating affect of brain circuitry filled with shorts.<br />
<br />
It's difficult, at best, to Live Positive, even without HIV. From a
horrible, undiagnosed case of ADD, environmental allergies,
antihistamines, alcohol, and the Bible, you can imagine how much a
muddled up mess I was. I lived in a state of mind one could call Spaghetti City.<br />
<br />
Now, living positive is something I've only learned to do really in the
last year, though it took hold over the last ten years, the full effect
was not until recently. I still fall off the Lily Pad occasionally, but I generally stay on these days. Ribbit.<br />
<br />
Having always been politically oriented in a big picture kind of way,
this past presidential election created fear among the masses in many
ways, including the threat of nuclear war, which leads one to think of
the end of the world.<br />
<br />
I have meditated for years on these nine things: love, joy, peace,
patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control,
my Lily Pad, but not nearly as intensely as I did during the first year
of this presidency. It became crystal clear that things were beyond my
control and whereas I had always held a lingering fear of death, that
burden was lifted and I arrived at a place of serenity.<br />
<br />
Though I have always been an unorthodox person of faith, not having much
faith in religious institutions, or our political system, I was not
living positively. It was living in constant fear and turmoil, with the promise
of heaven, and the threat of hell. Life was truly a living hell, and
then I'd have a violent allergy attack, ever since I was seven years
old...<br />
<br />
I have a Jewish Uncle. He's an Atheist, but I told him the other day, I lost everything, while I gained my sanity. It took, losing everything in order for me to
begin to see clearly and not feel like a mad man as I did for so many years. He said, "That says a lot".<br />
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And, then there is SU DO KU, probably one of the most overlooked solutions to so many of our mental health problems... My Jewish Uncle, the Atheist, has helped me refine my skills at solving the puzzles made of 81 squares where undivided attention and the ability to sit still becomes it's greatest lessons.<br />
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There are millions of people on prescription medications these days, and some end up dead because of it. Personally, I've lost two people I know of to these drugs that are supposed to help. One was to suicide and the other was due to a lethal mix, a prescription drug cocktail.<br />
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Religion is probably the leading cause on the planet of mental illness. The second leading cause... Is the lack thereof. Life is just that way. For many of us, it is our primary daily challenge to remain calm and focused.<br />
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Therefore, having learned this for myself, I want to share it with others. So, I approached the people at the Thomas Lay Recreational Center about teaching a course in SU DO KU. At first many people are intimidated by them, thinking it's math, but it's not! It's order. Order, being born out from disorder is probably the greatest victory one can achieve. <br />
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If you agree, please share this with a friend and LIKE the Facebook page Sudoku Therapy by clicking on the link here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sudokutherapy/" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/sudokutherapy/</a><br />
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MahaloGabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-66032946922240293332018-07-30T11:17:00.001-07:002019-01-24T06:57:36.525-08:00Be Seen, Not ViewedA guest preacher was in the pulpit starting off his Sunday sermon. Before the engines were revving, he calmly announced, "It's better to be seen here on a Sunday morning, than it is to be viewed over there", pointing out the window at the funeral home next door. It just so happened, besides being the guest preacher, he owned the funeral home too!<br />
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Whatever your situation in life in these United States of America, life is pretty good, unless you're being held captive by some pervert, or enslaved in the sex trade, or other worse than humiliating circumstances. It is better to be seen, than viewed!<br />
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We seem to have the best in life, and the worst in life here. I'm pretty sure it's that way in most of the world, although I did recently learn there is an island in the Phillippines called Mindanao where Davao City is located. A highly urbanized <i>sanctuary</i> of sorts. No public smoking is allowed and there is supposedly very little crime. This, I learned by hearsay, a public impression. With over a million people living there and over two million including the metro area, how this is possible, I do not know.<br />
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Further investigation yields this statement to be somewhat false. While Davao City has received a high rating on a crowd sourcing website, it has also maintained the highest murder and rape rates in the country. Yet, it has been deemed safe. I've never been there, and I don't plan on going there, but it's interesting information to know, to say the least. If nothing else, it's good ratings for tourism!<br />
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I've met a few people from the Phillippines along the way. Every single one of them are kind and gentle people. But, I've concluded most people are kind and gentle, while there is always the sinister element to behold. I like the multi-cultural aspect of these United States of America. To conservatives, that makes me a Liberal. On the other hand, I'm not so Liberal as to approve of people walking around with their pants down, or with their butt cheeks hanging out of their shorts.<br />
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My Jewish Uncle, the Atheist, suggested I not turn into an old grouch with an attitude like that. I thought about it for twenty four hours and then came back with this after my Uncle told me to let them do what they want. For the most part, everyone wants to believe in Anarchy, or self-rule, but it takes a lot more faith in humanity for me to go there than it does for others, unless they just like to present ideas that are not really plausible.<br />
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I'm a top of the trees kind of guy when it comes to politics, and religion. Whereas, in the past, I was completely subjective, I learned the objective view. Take yourself out of the situation mentally. Look at it. Form an opinion. Remove zeal, and remove extremism. Does anyone have a lock on the truth? Extremists believe they do. But, do they?<br />
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My Jewish Uncle, the Atheist, is a teacher, not a preacher; perhaps an Atheist Fundamentalist as he alluded to the other day, made us both laugh. Fundamentally, Atheism goes against norms, but adheres to others be they moral, or ethical. It's just the WHY of it all. And, then, there's the doing of the thing you believe is right.<br />
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Most people believe in love and joy and peace... I've already said, I think most people are calm and gentle people and then religion and gangsters enter the picture. On any given day, most people just want to make it through without too many obstacles. It's not to suggest that there won't be any obstacles. It's to suggest we deal with them without jumping off our lily pads!<br />
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It is also my belief, the people from the Department of Piss People Off have always existed, and so often work in the government. Not necessarily, but so often it is the case. The system of the run around hits every cross section of this world.<br />
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But, if you have to run around in order to make a decent living, then you might as well be doing it in a Mercedes Sprinter you live in, while travelling from city to city selling your wares, maybe sweating in the sun a little bit, and being able to sleep at night from the exhaustion of the day. Unfortunately, my Jewish Uncle doesn't sleep very well and often times stays up all night taking target practice out on the hundred and fifty acres he lives on. Maybe that's why he can't sleep? If you're up all night shooting guns then it would make it impossible, right?<br />
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SU DO KU Therapy<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/sudokutherapy/" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/sudokutherapy/</a><br />
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If not for SU DO KU, the struggles of life might have consumed me by now, but I was born in the USA, where even if you're on the bottom rung of the ladder, you still have a chance to step up. Even if, they knock you right back down. Eventually, if there is something of value, you might get paid, but probably strung along. Everybody can't be a Rock Star, but maybe we can all be Diet Rock Stars? Shout out to the STAR that told me that, right there!<br />
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Stop<br />
Think<br />
Act<br />
Repeat<br />
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Be a STAR!<br />
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Just don't ever leave your beer sitting on the bar top. Somebody might slip you a Mickey, further adding to the humiliation you might have already experienced.<br />
This is my own advice to myself, I have sometimes ignored. Not wise. You're own mother might be the one to drug you. Know what I mean?<br />
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SU DO KU represents calm. Calm is something Americans can't really relate to until maybe old age. The Run Around lifestyle permeates every facet of our society from rich to poor, but if you are gifted with old age, then you kind of earn the right to sit around and be calm. Does anyone think the president should visit an old age home, or a hospice facility?<br />
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But, it is the young who defend the old really. It is the young who defend the old way of life of comfort. After all, the young are funded by the old. But, do we really need to spend ten times the next six countries on military spending to defend it? Whatever the number is, capitalists unite, Democrat, or Republican and the military is, by far, the number one recipient of tax payer funding. After that, we're all supposed to fend for ourselves by conservative thinking. While if you're of a democratic mind, the people have a case. As long as money exists, it is impossible for everyone to be a millionaire, or to live as one wealthy country.<br />
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But, money does exist and probably always will. So, the mission of each living being inherently becomes, to obtain as much of it as you can. For many, as close as they come is to providing a roof over their heads, and maybe some beers. For others, they only make enough for the beer! And, then there are those who have nine yachts, can hardly speak intelligibly, and are in charge of the Department of Education. Not to mention, Munchkins who hate Pot. Is it Sunday morning yet?<br />
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SU DO KU<br />
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My Jewish Uncle the Atheist, might sneeze at this thought, and his teeth might just wind up in someone's salad plate too! In fact, that already happened. Old news, not fake news. Just because it's old, doesn't mean it's fake.<br />
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The run around is very real, and very old. The only learning is in how to deal with it is in the doing of the thing. You can't teach it. You can't just give that ability to someone. One has to learn it individually, but only by interdependence.<br />
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If we jump off the lily pad because someone makes waves, we have the right, and the responsibility to get back on. If not, we better hope for shore! Ribbit.<br />
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Do frogs eat flies because they're bothering them?<br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-76817868269281414272018-07-13T10:53:00.002-07:002018-08-01T11:02:06.712-07:00Theresa DisMayedWith a look of consternation, the Prime Minister endured the press briefing with the "man" with a Queens accent as he applauded Brexit in his ape like fashion TREMENDOUSLY, claiming the greatest influence of it all.<br />
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She varied on her stance on immigration with him in that he, with a blanket statement, considered immigrants a threat to OUR way of life, whereas Prime Minister DisMayed clarified the British stance to the point of those who come to Great Britain without a threat of destroying OUR way of life, are welcomed. The difference being racism vs. class and manners.</div>
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To lump all white people into a group is fake news. Just because you're white doesn't make you my brother, Mr. President, but he was elected by the exploited class of people who will buy anything if you do it in Jesus name. It seems that's how the world works. Those in power are pretty much assh*les who exploit people of faith, whether it be faith in God, or race.<br />
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As he called for more spending on the military, globally, he showed his true colors of the <i>might is right mentality</i>, the plantation mentality, the top down mentality, that continues to feed the notion of trickle down economics they suck up like a babe on a tit when mother's milk has run dry, or barely feeding.</div>
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I couldn't watch more than five minutes before I had to turn it off because it reminded me of a poor orphan child who wants so badly to be the boss, and to be admired, that he becomes the complete asshole, like the ones he despises. That poor child, now grown, treats everyone like they are crap, just as he must have been treated in the system in which he was raised.</div>
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You could say America is the orphan child of Great Britain... But, according to Wikipedia, America has over 20% of the world's GDP, twice as much as the next country at around 10%, which is China, and we owe them a lot of money.</div>
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Some food for thought, I'm still digesting...<br />
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_distribution_of_wealth" target="_blank">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_distribution_of_wealth</a></div>
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All this talk about money, stemming from those who have a bunch of it, down to street people, is enough to make someone hungry enough to put ketchup on their steak like a person of such class as our president. But, who would do that unless they really didn't have any class?</div>
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I know people love ketchup, like they love sugar, and it stands to reason if you've been sucking down sugar for your entire life you'd want to put ketchup on your steak since corn syrup is a main ingredient in ketchup. However, what <i>we </i>consider to be normal is considered a disgrace by some. Though, some would say I'm a disgrace because I like to drink beer after working for assh*les all day who want to call me out for it as they count my spots and ignore their own, often times in Jesus' name.</div>
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I saw two commercials yesterday where pitch people were wearing crosses dangling from their necks trying to sell cars and pillows. Immediately, I decided I didn't want one of their cars, or pillows. Personally, I don't think Jesus would either. I mean, the good book never described him as a beggar, and he must have always had a pillow to sleep on, since he not only washed feet, but women of the time washed his and anointed them with oil.</div>
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I tried to explain this to a beggar the other day who proclaims Jesus with a cardboard sign and his poor story of gloom. I do not engage beggars, but I made the mistake of an offhanded comment about the fact that white people can't dance when he was offended and tried to confront me. He even followed me down the street cursing me without profanity as I walked away from the confrontation figuring I'd probably kill the guy if I got into a fight with him and I wasn't much interested in killing anyone at the moment, though I do support breeding regulations.</div>
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I told him I don't remember the Bible ever talking about Jesus sitting around begging for money. Liberals love to say he was homeless, but it's a little bit different than being homeless if women are washing your feet, don't you think? I'd hate to think what this guys feet are like after shuffling around with his cardboard sign day after day, in the name of Jesus. If only he wore a suit and tie too, then it would make sense. But, fakes come in many shapes and forms... often in Jesus' name.<br />
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<i>Whether the Gospel is preached in pretense, or in truth...</i></div>
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So, dear Theresa DisMayed, I'm sorry you had to endure our brash, daft punk of a president who must get up early in the morning to do his hair as he speaks with his Queen's accent into the mirror to hear hismelf. What a challenge it must be to deal with a poor orphan child who is a billionaire. One who continuously, and repeatedly calls for more military spending because it's not really about US. It's about his pockets, and crowd control... I mean, the more troops he sends overseas, he must feel the fewer who would try to pick his pockets, and the pockets of those like him.</div>
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They make us all out to be criminals while they scheme new ways of bilking more money into their pockets... often times, in the name of Jesus. It kind of makes one not like money, doesn't it? Why would you want a bunch of money if it just meant you had to hang out with those you despise turning you into one of them, like the poor orphan child who so badly wants to be the boss, but really isn't worthy of Bosshood, you end up <b>not </b>hanging out with the real Boss!</div>
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Similarly, those who often call for "NO DRAMA", are the biggest drama Queens of all; just like those who sell cars and pillows with crosses dangling from their necks. Just stick a fish in your advertisement and they'll buy it! BINGO! <br />
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That is, until they figure out you are the biggest FAKE, like our president, our poor orphan child of a president, lusting for Bosshood... The closest he gets is in Executive Orders to alleviate regulations that would stop people like him from polluting our Earth further.</div>
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Well, these somewhat random thoughts stemmed from several sources, interdependently as things go. No person is an island, and no BLAHG is either. A culmination of pieces, like 81 squares of a completed Sudoku puzzle brings things together, while our poor orphan child with billions of dollars tries to distract us from completion. The state of chaotic urgency is their MO. Govern by confusion and maintain your power... until the audience figures out THEY'RE the real FAKEs like the money they live by and want us to strive for on wages that afford US cold beer.</div>
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Cheers!<br />
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-64995030509770672022018-05-08T08:17:00.001-07:002018-05-08T08:17:39.685-07:00LutherHow was your weekend?<br />
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Oh, it was fine. I went to my friend Luther's house and spent the weekend there. He had a Stripper over, and a Meth Head. I haven't spent much time around Strippers, or Meth Heads, but there I was and I gotta say, until the Meth Head finally woke up, I had a great time.<br />
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She was a country girl, with a few tats, and a good heart, but she had poison ivy on her p*ssy. At least, that was her story. I guess it sounds better if you call it poison ivy. No matter what you call it, it screamed, HANDS OFF! And, we did keep our hands off, although she did sleep naked in the bed with Luther. <br />
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So, we drank and watched Guns N Roses videos. Luther doesn't have cable, or Netflix. He has stacks of DVD's. I never realized how young Axel Rose was. He looked like he was about sixteen years old, but that band is tight, so tight! <br />
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Not having been a fan of any band very much in my life I have to respect GNR. They represented the end of hard rock and the entry of eighties bubble gum music that main streamers love so much. GNR gained mass appeal, but something happened in the eighties when music went worse than gay in the ironic way it did. People often question me when I use that phrase, and let me be clear, Chick-Fil-A trash is the number one form of trash I see on the ground. That's worse than gay.<br />
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Then the nineties came and Pearl Jam, and other hard rock bands, not quite like GNR, but then today we have Clutch, still not LIKE GNR, but equally hard rock, and kinda equally like the hard rock life of a stripper with poison ivy on her p*ssy...<br />
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She stayed for a couple of days, but then returned to the hands of her abuser as abused women so often do. This is not a matter of economic slavery as much as it is an addiction to Meth and your enablers. A strong drug, I've never tried, but I've heard several people talk about it as if they were in love with the stuff.<br />
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My what a long way I've come since my early days on the greens of golf courses and a life of privilege I didn't know I had. It had to be taken away, or lost in order for me to know what I had. On the other hand, I've lost some things I wish I never had like 115 pounds in the form of a woman from the DOPPO, the Department of Piss People Off.<br />
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As I told one of my atheist friends just yesterday, for the first time in my life, I found mental clarity. It just took life on the streets to get me there. This is a good thing having lived in a blur for most of my years. Religion must be the number one cause of mental illness, as evidenced by this presidency supported by the Evangelical, Moral Majority. Such glaring hypocrisy, in the name of Jesus, for gas guzzlers and materialists, masked by the Nazarene who doesn't look anything like this segment of his supposed followers.<br />
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Yet, the second most leading cause of mental illness, in my estimation, is the lack of religion. Either way, you must go through this life learning to stay on your lily pad. Suicide rates have been increasing for the last thirty years, which takes us back to the eighties again. Hey, that actually makes sense, since it was the eighties when mainstream music went stupid and people loved it! So, it makes perfect sense that we have this moron for president.<br />
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I'm not voting for this crap. Voting says, I'm gullible. And, I'm also not going to church where anybody where's a suit and tie. I'm just not going to church, but I'm no Atheist. God loves Hee-Haw.<br />
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Another Luther tried to reform the Catholic Church. Instead, we have thirty thousand flavors of Christianity today, as is to be expected because absolutists and Domnionists who think themselves superior to all other people of faith are just as fallible as the rest, but deny it and attempt to force feed their beliefs upon society at large. Jeff Sessions, the little twerp he is, should go back to Alabama and live happily ever after and leave the rest of us alone.<br />
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When the Moral Majority final figures out that as Americans we are fundamentally opposed to life in a theocracy, we shall have achieved the American dream in so far that if you live in peace you are welcomed here, no matter what you believe, because nobody has a lock on the truth, and that's the truth.<br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-50615557101383596462018-04-03T08:02:00.002-07:002018-04-26T07:30:56.687-07:00Skeptic<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="6n76n" data-offset-key="4f0nj-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="4f0nj-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">If you got rid of all the money in the world we fight over, then we would fight over land as we did before money existed. Does anybody remember when money didn't exist? Who invented it? What happened to the days when you just took your goat to a neighbor and swapped him for some tomatoes? </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="f8u48-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Alas, getting rid of money, which is quite as impossible as confiscating all the guns, wouldn't solve the problem. For the same reason, Communism will never work because it is within human nature to lust and want more than we need. If you could get rid of that human trait, we could have world peace. Can we get rid of that trait?</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bmg8r-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">So, we live in a world governed by one underlying principle and that is the world is run on bullsh*t. The best we can hope for is to minimize it, while those in power try to maximize it, trickling down to street level where beggars beg while the soup kitchen is four blocks away.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="5idq0-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">The Trump Effect took it's toll at the soup kitchen this morning where the one Latino regular guest, decided to look up from his Bible and become a vigilante for Christ. I honestly think he misheard someone say something they didn't say. He is known for correcting people who use profanity, reminding people they are in the church, God's house. People on the streets use profanity like it's just part of the language, not out of some desire to be profane. It's just the language. One might conclude, street people are simply profane, debased, morally corrupt, and without decency. Many are. Some are not.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="9v52s-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">When a language barrier is present, one might hear someone say, "Big Money Gabe! Gimme summa dat money before the girls get it", the G's and the D, even the T at the end, a native Spanish speaking person, I can see how he might have heard GD in the quick three seconds it took to say those words.. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="buu6-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Well, my Man that has pointed me in the right direction for resources since I hit the streets just said that to me and then went straight into the kitchen to get his plate. Upon sitting down, the Vigilante for Christ decided he would get up from his seat at the table where I was sitting, walk straight over to the supposed violator, and jump him, as they both fell to the ground grappling with each other. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="4nuik-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Now, we already have a language barrier, Jesus name is translated as Jesus, not Joshua as it "should" have been to keep it consistent with the English language, and Donald Trump is the president of Evangelical Christendom who think of themselves as the best Christians in the whole world, just like the president thinks he's the best... something, in the whole world; though he refuses to confess his sins and is forgiven by this tight knit community of "Believers". The one thing they seem to have in common is believing in BS.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="4nuik-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">It is clear, with one third of our population still in support of this fake, that one in three people are basically full of crap. Be aware of that while you're walking down the street. One in three, folks, completely embrace crapola as a lifestyle and voted for it, and apparently would vote for it again. That's why I quickly nominated Dolly Parton for president in 2020. Now, I've modified that nomination and have included J-Law, Jennifer Lawrence as her running mate. Why? Because J-Law is taking year off from Hollywood to use the platform she has been given to help bring about positive change. Though the Evangelical community has fits for Hollywood voicing their opinions, what other obligation does one really have if given the spotlight. Are you supposed to just sit there dumb and happy? I applaud Jennifer Lawrence, and though I don't always agree with the Liberal Left, I do realize we do not live in a Theocracy and never have.
Crazy Tommy, Tommy J, the author, or editor of the Jefferson Bible that eliminated all references to miracles and strictly focused on the moral code is the original Confuser of this non-theocratic nation. Yes, freedom of and from religion. No, State Religion. It was Crazy Tom that helped write the Bill of Rights declaring the government shall not establish, or prohibit the exercise of religion, under the guise of freedom of speech, and assembly. They wrote all these words in defining our nation, and never wrote the name of Joshua. He crafted these words and then turns right back around in a court of law and declares this a Christian nation. It might be a nation primarily occupied by Christians, but NEVER was it to be a State Religion. All you gotta do is practice your faith without causing harm to anyone else and you are welcomed, but we still argue over it to this day with people who can often times barely speak plain English in the name of Joshua.</span></div>
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So, as crazy as people might think I am, I look at those judges with the same conclusion of them. It just took me 39 years to unravel my mind from the mess of confusion that almost turned me into a Vigilante for Christ too. It was never cuss words that bothered me as much as it was materialism. I remember laughing at a cartoon in the paper one day and sharing it with my wife to be. While I laughed about it, she scowled, and then married me anyway. The Bride was in the background with he bouquet in hand, and her hands on her hips in disgust as the pastor spoke to the Groom saying, "Are you prepared to dedicate yourself to a life of mindless consumerism?"</div>
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A man who was once in a cult in Texas had four wives, and apparently a bad cocaine habit. But, he gave me a book one time called the Vigilantes of Christendom which is nothing more than a white supremacist book based upon the Phineas Priesthood, an everlasting priesthood promised to Phineas for spearing an Israelite man and a Midianite woman to death for intermingling. I had to put the book down because it stated within the first few pages that if you had any mixed blood within ten generations, then you were not pure white and therefore disqualified. Rejected, from the start by mighty whitey. It's funny though because every racist I've ever known who thinks of the white race as superior, is strangely in the form of someone who appears to be born from some infected gene pool, and barely speaks plain English. They also tend to believe in Decision Theology and think Jesus is an English name, like King James. I finally concluded the only thing superior about white people is their weaponry.
Keep the peace, as much as you can, but always be prepared to defend. The 2nd Amendment is foundational, and primary to our nation's defining characteristics as the first amendment. What about the 28th amendment? These guys have been making laws against society and for themselves as long as I've been politically aware, and Crazy Thomas was prominent in making that clear. Write the laws, and then do as you please. And, they want me vote for this crap? I decline.</div>
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So, what's the solution?</div>
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Enjoy your days while you still can. Stop watching the news. Do more Sudoku. You can't change the world, but you can change yourself. Those eighty one squares, and touch of the Spirit made me see clearly where peace is, and so often, it's right in the middle of the storm. Just because somebody says, "Big Money Gabe! Gimme summa dat money before the girls get it", doesn't mean they said a profanity, no matter what language you speak. Well, some "girls" might be offended by that comment, but I didn't say it. Somebody said it to me. I just thought it was funny. The Latino Vigilante for Christ thought it was a curse!</div>
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-20960741480528482992018-04-03T06:45:00.002-07:002018-05-08T06:52:42.988-07:00MENSCH<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
MENSCH: Yiddish~ A person of integrity and honor. Male, or female, it does not matter. A MENSCH is a MENSCH like my favorite MENSCH Princess Jess, who conceivably, could be a fictional character. As this Passover Easter weekend coincided for what I think is the first time in my life, I caught the sunrise in the East as I walked up the East Broad hill.</div>
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As I made my ascent, the big Blue Moon appeared in the Western sky as big as the sun appears. They seemed equal, but as scien<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ce has revealed, they are not, except in being natural wonders.</span></div>
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Happy Passover Easter, and don't forget, Sunday was April Fools day. It may sound like a joke, but it wasn't a joke!</div>
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Again, Happy Passover Easter! I tried to capture a photo, but a few minutes makes a difference. Morning Moon dropped out of sight, as the world turned, and I couldn't find my camera on my semi~smart phone.</div>
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<a href="https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/easter-and-passover/" target="_blank">https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/easter-and-passover/</a><br />
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<a href="https://youtu.be/ylizMw6iw9s?list=PL9442A158D9EE25AA" target="_blank">Shimshai</a></div>
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Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1950798505895487654.post-13998229181327617352018-02-12T10:56:00.000-08:002018-02-16T13:37:31.718-08:00My Beer GuardWell, I hope everyone had as good a Thanksgiving as I did, but we all know that's not a realistic idea if I had a realistically great Thanksgiving. From Syrian refugees, to Puerto Rican hurricanees, to those the same in the Virgin Islands, and to so many across the globe facing starvation, and the harshest living conditions, without a soup kitchen anywhere near by, not even conceived in their minds. It is certain I am most thankful to have spent my Thanksgiving as I did. Being displaced myself by Irma, I have very little to complain about with justification, though our own injustices do exist, we can't really complain too much when we get a parking ticket, if you know what I mean.<br />
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Once again, it began at 5 Bar in downtown Athens. 5 Bar is probably the best thing ever to come out of Alabama... Besides Kirby Smart! Go DAWGZ, the 2017 SEC Champs! That's some SMART Football!<br />
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Also, once again, the meal was superb, although if anybody went there on my word, I apologize, because I've been telling people for a couple of years now that you can cut the ham and turkey with your fork, which is true. Only, this year the meal was served with plastic cutlery. So, you couldn't prove my point. If you tried and broke your fork, I'll own it! No disrespect to 5 Bar. I just wanted to preserve my credibility.<br />
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I am all about properly managing expectations in life, unlike others who might have an office shaped like an oval, but claims it's a square! The ham and turkey were still sublime. That's how i started my day at 11am with what amounted to a Thanksgiving brunch.<br />
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At 1:30 in the afternoon, my longtime friend Captain Paul picked me up to go to his house where his wife and her parents were there as well as his sister and brother in law. Let me not fail to mention Colby, the greatest dog, and even Kenny, Leah & Fluffy, the cat who won't come inside the house even though there's a cat door. This is the third year in a row I've been to the Captains house for T-day!<br />
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As we were having conversation, the Captain asked me if the cat had gotten my tongue because I wasn't saying too much. The fact of the matter is I was doing much more listening than talking because I wasn't saying much. The fact of the matter is I was doing much more listening than talking because I was surrounded by a bunch of highly intelligent people. The best thing I could do was listen, and then try to make some relevant and/or comedic interjection, my specialty.<br />
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One thing is for sure, I felt at home and well I should have as the Capt'n told me I was considered a member of the family. All I had to do was make it through the two previous feasts, and this one without pissing anybody off which I generally don't have any tendency to do. The most beautiful part of it was we didn't discuss politics at all. That's great because there was only one Trump supporter in the house and we all broke bread together in peace.<br />
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As soon as I walked in the door I was immediately joyfully greeted by Colby, the shiny black mixed breed, best in the whole wide world... I know, I know, you think your dog is too. And, well, you're right, too! Colby is black, but he was a white chest. So, he looks like he's always wearing a tuxedo which is great because he has a particularly regal look about him. It's perfect!<br />
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Shortly after we arrived, and none too soon, the first bottle of wine was uncorked, and from then on it flowed. It was a rose, sweet, but light. Good for starters, but the reds soon followed. It wasn't until later that Captain Paul fired up the grill. Untraditionally, we were not to have turkey this year, and neither did we last year when we had roasted duck, my first time to partake of the fowl. This year, there was another new bird, quail, along with duck sausage and wild boar chops. Those were my favorite and they don't taste like chicken, but they do taste like steak. I've always said that one day I will dine with kings, and queens. This must be what it's like except nobody was wearing any crowns.<br />
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As the Captain and I were on the patio, I think i made the comment that everyone was such a wealth of knowledge and information, and perspective which is why using my ears twice as much as my mouth. It was then the Captain informed me that he and I were the only two people of the seven that weren't Phd's. Then, it all made sense! I was hanging with the doctors! Not only that, but Dr. Dan was originally from Lithuania. His wife, the matriarch of the house, was straight outta Scotland, and her daughter, the captain's wife, an archaeologist grew up in San Francisco where Ma & Pa currently reside. Cheers! And, that we did until midnight when everyone pretty much agreed it was time to hit the hay.<br />
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I was to take the sofa bed, and Colby was my bunk mate. I've house sat for the Captain and his wife a couple of times before. So, Colby and I already know each other. Cats are usually a little slower to warm up, but Kenny and Leah were much more sociable than times before, but no cats in the bed please. I'm allergic and even if I wasn't that would be absurd. Can you imagine me sleeping with two cats and a dog?!? I'm a dog person, yo? Go DAWGZ! Sorry, cat people. That's just how it is.<br />
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The next morning came with the sunrise shining in from the east when I awoke to find Colby siting upright on the bed seemingly enjoying the moment. So, I joined him saying, "Colby you're a rock star like Elvis", as he continued to watch the scene. I continued, "But, with that tuxedo you're wearing you're more like Sinatra", when his ears immediately perked up as if he knew exactly what I was saying.<br />
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And, so it was the morning did rise as did all of us from our Thanksgiving slumber. We had breakfast, and then it was time to go. More company was to arrive that afternoon when Dr. Alison's brother and his wife were to come into town.<br />
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The next day was Saturday. I had already made my way to the Oink House and ordered a pitcher of PBR when my phone rang. It was Captain Paul. They were coming to eat lunch at the Oink House and wanted to know if I would join them. Having already eaten, I explained, I would join them for beers only!<br />
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As I was waiting an attractive blonde comes into the bar wearing a pair of Ray Ban Aviators, and grey ball cap with pink lettering in the form of LA, a Dodgers cap, but pink and grey. She was heading in my direction with a smile on her face. I was the only one sitting there. She plopped up two chairs down, and I said, "Well, you sure do look like Hollywood"!<br />
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She kind of laughed, and said, "Nah, I'm just hung over", which caused me to make a "Phwf" sound, with a following laugh! I didn't bother to tell her I was trying to pay her a compliment, because took it and turned it into a joke, and that was good enough. She knows she's hot anyway.<br />
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About that time my party arrived and so I greeted them at the door with and embrace from Papa! That was kinda cool. It made me feel very European, as so often in other cultures men greet men with a hug, and even a kiss on the cheek. We didn't go that far, but it was a gesture not often done in American culture. I come from a family of huggers. So, it was an old familiar for me. <br />
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Anyway, we were seated in the booth, and went back over to see LA and explain to her I was going to leave my pitcher on the bar next to her, if she wouldn't mind, as I returned to my party with a pint of beer, not the whole pitcher. She said, "No problem", and I quickly deemed her My Beer Guard, which she seemed to like. She knew the guy working the bar anyway and they started talking and I sat back down.<br />
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The food came as ordered, very quickly as is often the case at the Oink House. Everybody started to eat, and I returned to fill my glass, thanking My Beer Guard for her service and protection from anyone who might want to spike my beer with GHB! She laughed, and agreed.<br />
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As the meal was consumed and conversation flowed, it was time for My Beer Guard to go. As she came walking by I gave her a grip, as stopped to say, "You're on your own now, but I think you'll be fine". I explained to the table that this was My Beer Guard, to which they nodded, sort of astonished, as I thanked her again. And, that folks, is just how I met My Beer Guard, and her name is Rachel.<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving & <a href="http://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2018/02/happy-valentines-day.html" target="_blank">Happy Valentine's Day!</a><br />
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Thanks for reading!<br />
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~Gabe<br />
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<br />Gabe Newmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06106242574295314467noreply@blogger.com0