In The Wilderness ~ my start with the band before the band

~~

I'm not sure how I got the call to play drums in an established R&B band, but I was ecstatic that I did. Having worked road-crew for dad's band, ShagTime, for over a year with a growing itch to be on-stage instead of off, this new opportunity to actually play live drums was incredibly inticing. I was to replace the out-going drummer and little did I know, that this would be some of the sternest and most grueling on-stage live schooling that I would ever go through. As with the call, I'm forever thankful I went through it.

The Sensations, was an interracial bunch of older guys (hah, younger than me right now!) with the exception of future Kicks! co-founder & keyboardist, Vic, who was all of 19 or 20 years or so at the time. The band's motif was pure R&B and almost all of these players were long-time perfectionists of the 'genre'. What I mean by that is that at this time--mid '80's--R&B was primarily standards covered by cover bands, because this is the music of our cultural south. Meaning, again, that this is the type of music preferred (and the more authentic the better) at southern 'occasions'. These players were authentic, they had most certainly 'been there and done that' decades before the term R&B was replaced by Hip-Hop. Since Victor was a virtuoso on the keys, he didn't have a problem with the other guys, but to me--the guy who called himself a drummer, but hated to practice--was a whole 'nother story. I am eternally thankful that I lasted about two years with this band before I started one on my own after an internal split in the band. During the split, I stayed with the leader, Mo, because he hired me, while the other guys stuck with a club-owner who wanted to be a drummer too. The new Sensations was simply no match in duplicating the old group's on-stage heroics, choreography and authentic R&B sound. I did manage to internalize the chemistry that led to the original band's success, of which Mo was a huge part--he taught me how to run a band on-stage and off--and with that template of which I was now very familiar gave me a huge amount of confidence in starting my own group with some of my own 'green' friends. No more schooling for me (I thought). As a side note--in this business there are inevitable times when you have to retool your show and your performers--and I was years later to hire (they accepted!) most all of the original members of the old group that gave me my first call to play drums. And though there is an incredible amount of history with my new group yet to be formed, before this point, I have to tell you that most of these wonderful players are now my dear friends and partners in my current group--one that I would never think of retooling--that continues to this day. It seems that the two-year scene and show we had while I was being schooled was simply a really inspired show that still thrives--in a big way--to this day. As I tell anyone that asks if I still play in that band, I always tell them that I'm qualified to work at McDonald's otherwise. To tell you the honest truth, I'm probably not qualified for that either. I'll keep playing these drums, thanks to Mo and the Sensations and to Dad & ShagTime.

In The Wilderness: The Mighty Band before the Mighty Band

~~

Once the show began in Dad's band, I was set-up with my lighting console beside the amazing Don' who was running, of course, the entire sound for the guys on-stage. This was fun for a couple of weeks, but then there's only so much you can do with lights and beach music. Eventually, I got to where I was just aching to be on-stage with the boys--or at least with my own band--just an unformed bit of mental plasma--for now.

I did learn alot from the dadster, especially in how you can successfully and with amazing results, 'read' a crowd and authoritatively 'guide' an entire four-portion of any given evening to your and your client's ultimate satisfaction. One thing Dad did to perfection and something I've never really mastered was the art of 'killing' them (or just winning them over, however your choice of vernacular) on the first song or 'chunk' of songs. Dad had a seven-piece act with a powerful three-part horn section, so obviously he always chose an 'opener' that showcased the entire composition of the band. Inevitably, the guys would have the entire audience eating out of their hand after the first twenty-minutes of the show and usually even before then.

After the opener, it was just a matter of Dad calling the songs that gradually had everyone letting their hair down and achieving the utmost desired result that wouldn't come until the following normal 'real world' business day. To put it plainly, Dad demanded, "I want that phone ringing off the hook on Monday morning." As bored as I continued to get running lights and setting up and tearing down gear, I learned the rules of the game. That is, you can do this business of show-business in many different fashions. You can kind of go over, go over pretty good or . . . you can have the phone ringing off the hook on Monday morning with future clients demanding to know how they can engage that fabulous band they heard this past weekend. As my current band-mate and on-stage brother for over 20 years, Esaw, would say so matter-of-factly, "That's the way IT works, pal."

~~

In The Wilderness: origin of the band ~ Road Crew: Ed, Don & I

~:~

Our 'performance to performance' routine consisted of us arriving somewhere like the Greensboro Country Club in North Carolina for a 'private party', unloading the equipment off the truck and down the ramp; big black road box after big black road box. Once in the ballroom, we would set each road box (on wheels of course) end after end thus intimidating anyone who would question our authority. Don taught me this based on his countless road crew experience with the biggest bands in our southeastern market along with his experience with the national acts like Bob Segar and especially Grand Funk Railroad (Bob would actually help his road crew load-in to the arena just for the hell-uv-it). I enjoyed this new found authority and while immersed in it, we quietly opened the large wooden boxes and set-up everything but the stage, although we did have a quite nifty drum riser for the drummer, my dad.

After setting up everything we would sound check the PA which as most of you know has been immortalized in the often repeated, "Check, mic check 1, 2, 3. Mic check 1, 2 3." We would sometimes say "4" but never go any higher than that. After the mic check, I would check Dad's drums with the most important being the bass or 'kick' drum. You would kick the foot pedal until the amazing Don' had it equalized and coming out through the front speakers with a thunderous bottom end sound, "Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom". If the staff still questioned out authority, they didn't now as Don would 'bump' the volume of the bass drum way louder than he ever anticipated using it during the show. After all this audible checking, we would then aim all the lights with their multi-colored gels on two large metal stands on either side of the stage. If we had room, we would set up a back-line lighting truss which we'll refer to later. There was, however, a story from one of the former members of the band--before this new incarnation--where the lovable trumpet player accidentally tripped over one of the bulky light stands on the front line sending it and the lights crashing on top of an elaborately prepared banquet table. Although not a witness to this incident, I have it pretty fixed in mind in just how it happened. It is still funny.

Eventually, we would be all ready for the musicians to come on stage and plug into the amps--already provided and set-up for the little heifers--but being we were almost always probably three to four hours completely set-up before show time, we would first ask where the nearest Quincys or equivalent was so we could let our hair down with an all-encompassing buffet meal and bottomless coffee . . . listening to the inevitable stories from Ed and Don. One of the rare stories that I was in concerned just such an episode. After one of our many set-ups, we arrived at one Quincys in downtown Winston-Salem during rush hour and upon exiting the truck, we noticed that one of the huge, steel back-line lighting trusses happened to still be on top of the truck. It had every chance to impale anyone--front or back of us--on the lengthy trip through rush-hour traffic on the way to our Quincys. You know, somebody had to have been watching out for us and I think they still do. Let's hit that buffet ya'll.

~:~

In The Wilderness: origin of the band ~ Road Crew: the amazing don'

~:~

"On the road again . . . ." Oh, the joy to be doing something productive with no outer goals in mind other than the unloading of a truck filled with gear and setting up of a production that would make Vegas smile. All the guys in Dad's band had to do was walk on stage pick up their drum sticks--if you're my dad---or plug in their instruments. Once we had thirteen 'one-nighters' in a row--that means you set it all up that day and take it all down after the show that night. It got to be that we just about walked in our sleep like some 'road zombie' to the truck when it came to pick us up early each day.

The road crew consisted of myself, Ed (Jeffthro's dad) and the amazing Don Casay. Within the first couple weeks of touring, I had become incredibly enamored with the amazing Don'. He had stories that would simply mesmerize the listener, whether he was telling us of the times spent with Rod Stewart, Grand Funk Railroad and The King of Bands, The Embers or of the time he was shot in heroic fashion in Vietnam. Hey, whether true or not, these were some damn good stories, but what gave the amazing Don' such credibility was not only the absolutely flawless mix he performed with the band (and in typical Don Casay fashion--draping the soundboard in an American Flag while we were all on break), but also 'amazing' incidences where we actually saw the amazing Don' in action.

For instance, one day we happened to be in a mall parking lot somewhere in North Carolina, when all three of us--myself, Ed, and Don'--heard someone outside say, kind of calmly actually, "Can I have some help over here?" We looked over at the mall sidewalk to see two men tussling with a new television set beside them. Ed and I simply froze, unable to speak, much less deciding on any course of action we should take with the situation. Before we had a chance to even exhale, the amazing Don' hopped out the truck, ran over to the two men and then expertly helped the 'correct' security guard subdue the man for the police. This is the amazing Don' and he would prove his skills to us in confronting those last-minute unknowns many more times before he would eventually take another path, but believe me, we will get to those stories before the amazing Don' leaves us.

In The Wilderness: origin of the band ~ Prep-Time

~:~

I will never forget--so soon after what felt like a dramatic fall from reality--watching my dad and his cohorts assemble an entirely new band in just two weeks. They already had dates on the books and a regional song burning up the 'regional' charts and yet the new band would have only three of the original members; my dad, Jeffthro's dad and the lead singer, Paul.

They rented out an old community recreation room and began in earnest. The 'beach music'--our local musical idiom--sounded great with their powerful horn section, but the 'dance' songs of Morris Day & The Time were really almost impossible for them to cover (that was to prove very enlightening to watch). At the very same time that the new band was assembling their repertoire, I was watching and assisting Don Casay, the chief-soundman, assemble all the 'brand new' sound & lighting gear strewn all over the room. Something very new was in the air and it was extremely intoxicating to be immersed in this 'new' reality.

After rehearsals, two of the younger members of the new group, Terry & 'Zoid, stayed with us at the house and that is where I had my first real taste of the 'natural' stuff that is green. After partaking in my old bedroom--with the guys showing me the techinical expertise to manage such a matter--where they were residing and then retiring to the couch downstairs, I remember watching my upraised hand very diligently and really not liking this loss of mental control at all. I, however, was to overcome that stumbling block in no time at all and I, as well as practically the entire band--though not Don Casay--would treat that 'loss of mental control' as a blessing and thanksgiving whenever it should occur. Shall we take this show to the road? We shall.

~:~

In The Wilderness ~ origin of the band: Fall Semester

~:~

To fully explain the origin of 'the band', we have to go into a little musical history that most of the chosen seven are probably not even aware of. And before we get into that history, we have to go even further back to a very brief tenure at the University of South Carolina in 1984.

I like so many other clueless freshman arrived wide-eyed and terrifed on the Gamecock campus with a chosen goal to pursue enlightenment in Business Adminstration. Yeah, right. God help those who still pick this degree, let alone achieve it. I started out pretty good, but somewhere along the way--and not too along the way--I got tripped up in self-paced astronomy. With this stumbling block firmly established within the first two months, I proceeded to do something that I would do several times later at many other schools of higher education: I threw the beautiful baby out with the bathwater. Not able to redeem myself in that subject of stars and planets; I stopped going to 'all' my classes and kept my mind busy--and off the future--while walking around the undiscovered city of my birth and playing basketball in the gym. Christmas break was just around the corner, and I simply had to put the thought out of my mind that I had thrown my future away--maybe we could try the army--and the family would soon know that that four-digit check for this semester had not been redeemed in studies and that there would most definitely not be a 'spring' semester for this young bloke.

I told the folks after a pre-Christmas dinner not knowing in the slightest what would be next. Turns out, dad was in the dramatic process of assembling a new and better band and a new and better road-crew and it wasn't more than a couple of minutes later that I knew I was going on the road to throw around some PA and lighting equiptment. I hadn't expected this at all and little did I know the actual road it would really lead me down--or up.

Selections on God, Reality, Music & Pictures from Jean Baudrillard

~:~

The eclipse of God left us up against reality.

Where will the eclipse of reality leave us?

~:~

And yet there are no proofs of this reality's existence -- and there never will be -- any more than the are proofs of the existence of God. It is, like God, a matter of faith.

And when you begin to believe in it, this is because it is already disappearing.

It is when one is no longer sure of the existence of God, or when one has lost the naive faith in a self-evident reality, that it becomes absolutely necessary to believe it it.

~:~

Integral Reality is also to be found in integral music: the sort you find in quadrophonic spaces or can 'compose' on a computer. The music in which sounds have been clarified and expurgated and which, shorn of all noise and static, is, so to speak, restored to its technical perfection. The sounds of such music are no longer the play of a form, but the actualization of a programme. It is a music reduced to a pure wavelength, the final reception of which, the tangible effect on the listener, is exactly programmed too, as in a closed circuit. It is, in a sense, a virtual music, flawless and without imagination, merging into its own model, and even the enjoyment of it is virtual enjoyment. Is this still music? The question must be open to doubt, since they have actually come up with the idea of reintroducing noise into it to make it more 'musical'.

~:~

The computer-generated image is like this too, a digital image which is entirely fabricated, has no real referent and from which, by contrast with analogue images, the negative itself has disappeared -- not just the film negative, but the negative moment lies at the heart of the image, that absence that causes the image to resonate. The technical fine-tuning here is perfect. There is no room for fuzziness, tremor or chance. Is this still an image?

~:~

JEAN BAUDRILLARD, (1929 - 2007)

Daily Strength For Daily Needs ~ My Birthday ~ 1884

October the Fourth

Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest. ~JOSH. i. 9

_______________________

BY Thine unerring Spirit led,

We shall not in the desert stray;

We shall not full direction need,

Nor miss our providential way;

As far from danger as from fear,

While love, almighty love, is near.

-CHARLES WESLEY

___________________

WATCH your way then, as a cautious traveller; and don't be gazing at that mountain or river in the distance, and saying, "How shall I ever get over them?" but keep to the present little inch that is before you, and accomplish that in the little moment that belongs to it. The mountain and the river can only be passed in the same way; and when you come to them, you will come to the light and strength that belong to him.

M. A. KELTY

_________________________________

LET not future things disturb thee, for thou wilt come to them, if it shall be necessary, having with thee the same reason which thou now usest for present things.

MARCUS ANTONINUS

_________________________________

SELECTED BY MARY WILDER TILESTON, (1843 - 1934) MEMORIAL EDITION

In The Wilderness: that double length business card from the City on the Hill ~ Asheville)

When

In

Doubt

(Doubt breeds Fear; Faith breeds Love.)

_________________________________

The "Key" to Peace & Happiness: Love!

For health, happiness, prosperity, and peace, we need

to do only one thing; Love; love (all the time) God and

all others as well as thyself.

Love is the "Key" to happiness; Forgiveness is the

"Key" to love!

"God is love; and he that dwells in love dwells in God,

and God in him"

Love Conquers All!

_____________________________

Remember: Life is what you think! With

God all things are possible. There is only

one presence and one power in the

universe - God, the good; all things are

possible to him who believes; and all things

work for good for the person who loves God.

________________________________

This is God's show;

I'm merely a member of the cast.

God knows best. God is in charge.

God is good, and God is with me.

I Trust God! WE ARE ONE!

Let go ego (Fear); let Spirit (Love).

_____________________________

Truth Student: EH WE ARE ONE!

In The Wilderness: prayers ~ The Third Testament: coming of the second phenonomen

"After this manner, therefore, pray to your Heavenly Father: Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. They will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever. Amen"

______________

"And after this manner, pray to your Earthly Mother: Our Mother which art upon earth, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, and thy will be done in us, as it is in thee. As thou sendest every day thy angels, send them to us also. Forgive us our sins, as we atone all our sins against thee. And lead us not into sickness, but deliver us from all evil, for thine is the earth, the body, and the health. Amen."

_______________

-Edmond Bordeax Szekely, The Essenee Gospel of Peace

Translated from Aramaic manuscripts which are in the secret archives of the Vatican

(I discovered this little book among many of the priceless relics at a warehouse in Columbia, South Carolina after most of the writing of this journal had been completed.)

In The Wilderness: An Epilogue ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenonomen

When you've been to the mind or behavioral hospital (same thing), every little occurrence is stimulating and you simply don't mind doing your work in the lobby of a nice hotel from four to six in the morning. And you can drink the regular coffee 'till it runs out, with no repercussions.
2 At least there seem to be no obvious repercussions. I know there are repercussions to every gesture. You just very diligently work to inspire good repercussions, and you do that by doing . . . good (for 'yer self if need be).
3 Also, it's good to maintain the appearance (illusion) of nice eccentricity and not the reality of fussy reality of 'make that two weeks' outside the joint, with no plans to go back in. But, you know, life and love work in mysterious ways.
4 I will have to say that having your Bible on the table in the lobby keeps most anyone, but the most unavoidable people away.
5 It's not me intention to be mean, but those darn converters give faith and love a bad name, at least a name most decent people--who don't aim to convert or, God forbid, change another--avoid like the plague (people with mental histories may be in the same boat).
6 Believe me (I didn't say that), I avoid them too. I may not avoid the next one. we'll see . . . .

In The Wilderness: Notes from Asheville ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenonomen

Made it to Asheville. It seems pretty nice here.
2 Made it to my first coffee shop; same one I enjoyed before, of course. Got a coffee and a water. Cost $1.10.
3 Met Peter before that, and got confidence that I can make it here.
4 Got this quote from here: "Everything begins in the mind with thought." This quote comes from a pamphlet (8 1/2 x 11 split longways). A cool idea and I thought I had thought of everything.
5 Got a one sheet flyer telling me about ArtHaus Hostel. Got this quote from it: "Nothing but love from the ArtHaus, catering to the Cultural Traveler, all ages welcome."
6 It is probably 4:00. My meter is probably expired.

CHAPTER TWO

"You are an illusion vs. this reality" (from the coffee shop bathroom wall).
2 I miss my daughter very much (emotion of longing).
3 "Because of the Law of thought, your every thought creates" (from the pamphlet).
4 I love you, Ann (from dad).

CHAPTER THREE

"Always keep a positive and constructive thought" (from the pamphlet).
2 Thank you for blessing me.
3 Help me to lighten up during these somber times (you did). Thank you.
4 I feel a powerful emotion of fear; 'ego' according to E. H. (author of pamphlet).
5 What is troubling is that I've had this emotion before, and terrible things resulted.

CHAPTER FOUR

Asheville has wonderful spirits.

2 I'm at Mayfai's. It is a cafe across from the central park in downtown Asheville.

3 There are so many homeless people here, but they're happy.

4 Found a dime dated 1983; year of my first conversion. Oh, boy.

5 They are drumming, dancing and playing hackey-sack.

6 I'm overwhelmed by the love I feel in the city on the hill.

7 I went to the drummer's circle. I've met all those who are 'one'.

8 I've so much I can't wait to learn.

CHAPTER FIVE

I met three people by the end of my day as I sit just off the Blue Ridge Parkway.

2 Their names, in order, were Peter, Kurt and Emily.

3 I stayed in a safe place (parking lot of the Blue Ridge Folk Art Museum), went to bed (in the van) at a decent hour (1:00am) and got a good night's sleep (true).

4 Today it is 10:30am and I've already met three more people, Donald, Larry B. and one who was looking for beer money (hey, it's better than crack).

CHAPTER SEVEN

O.K., I've met Badger and that's all I can say about that. I am a humble student, but "I'm optimistic about life. I look forward to and enjoy new challenges" (from Baptist Medical Center handout from the fifth floor).

2 Well, what am I supposed to write, do think--love, love, love, be thankful, be thankful, be thankful.

3 Go back to van, which is in a very safe spot. Find something for any tips that may or may not come in (trying to make it as a street musician).

4 "When in doubt (doubt breeds fear; faith breeds love) (from the pamphlet), you gotta' go with faith, folks. Without faith, there can be no love? Yes, that is true.

5 Love. Faith. Hope. Patience. Kindness.

CHAPTER SEVEN

At the fountain, and you can put your feet in if you want to. In fact, you can stand in the middle of it with your clothes on (well, they were shooting a movie).

2 Asheville, city on the hill.

3 Let's try not to be pretentious, but saying 'love you'--to yourself--towards every child of God you see, that is, all spirits, to say . . . everyone, sure keeps at least a comforting, soothing half-smile on your face, like they teach you in class on the fifth floor at Baptist.

4 Wait! Don't drink water out of that rotten, dirty, litter-infested fountain . . . right. Not.

5 In Asheville, the homeless get each other a cab when needed.

CHAPTER NINE

I met a man named Gator, a female business owner named Marjorie, and the Pastor of a little church, all on the 'soulful' side of town.

2 Gator tells me these 'homeless' people--kids--are all trust-fund babies. Their parents pay to keep them out of the house, but hey, that doesn't make 'em all bad. I've traded harmonica tips with one and he gave me a sandwich on top of that. Anyway, I'm so naive, but that's me. Love to love you anyway.

3 Gator told me about this mountain trail that he's used before and where he can always avoid the man.

4 He said that I had to have been really stressed out to do what I did.

5 I found that trail on the mountain.

CHAPTER TEN

Maybe, I'll be leaving here soon. I certainly don't have any faith that will happen. I have no faith whatsoever. Thank you, everyone, me.

2 Remember don't ever say: "I have faith in things. I am an artist. I have a purpose."

3 If you remember these three things you'll always be taken care of.

4 I climbed three mountains (yes, I did, that's right). But of course, I can't tell anyone--could result in solitary, but hey, the view was great. That's what Gator does when he gets stressed out.

5 Most Important Rule: Don't ever, ever, ever tell people (anyone) that, "I follow my heart instead of my mind." How ironic when your mind is so sick.

In The Wilderness: A Book of Illusions ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenonomen

If it's all an illusion, should we still do it?
2 "Depends on what you get out of it." -HEATHLEY
3 If it's all an illusion, should we still do it?
4 "Only if I would." -ELAINE
5 "Let's pretend we do it." -HERBIE

CHAPTER TWO

Walking through Shandon.
2 Why did I even wave?
3 Let's just ignore each other.
4 I like randomness, of only to keep my mind from thinking.
5 Straight lies are good too.
6 Perhaps, even the devil could be divine.
7 Faces of worry, faces of pain--don't be late for church.
8 Either we don't mix, or we don't belong. Which on is it, or both?
9 Separation might work. Oh, yeah, it already does.
10 Kipp, I haven't found one seven yet.
11 O.K. I just found one.
12 No, it wasn't the Buddhist center.
13 Well, I didn't really bother to check, mate.
14 "Blinded by the light," or all these cool metallic signs.
15 I like it.
16 Thank God, I didn't wave or look them in the eye. No rebuff, no shame . . . no love (now we're getting it).
17 You'll have us converted in no time, SHANDONITES!

CHAPTER THREE

Why do you sit in the smoking room?
2 I feel more comfortable being with people who don't care whether one smokes or not.
3 People who choose non-smoking rooms/areas, choose to not be with a certain group of people.
4 They are exclusionary.
5 I am too. I choose not to be among them.
6 I can not stand to hear the non-smokers laugh so loudly.
7 Exclusive loudness.
8 Doesn't someone have a cell-phone they can answer?

CHAPTER FOUR

I love the Christian Bikers. These are not your mother's Christian Bikers.
2 They're like some ribald band of Robin Hood's merry band of brothers (and sisters); living life, laughing heartily--so refreshing, though they never acknowledge your presence with so much as a nor or smile . . . nothing.
3 They require no social exchange, no acknowledgement needed whatsoever. Love 'em or hate 'em, they don't give a damn.

CHAPTER FIVE

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

2 JESUS CHRIST!

3 Lisa, I've never seen so much traffic in all my days . . . .

4 Wouldn't they just love--people love--to just sit in traffic.

5 (HONK)!

6 I'm blowing my horn for no reason at all.

7 Um.

8 I'm just incensed. I can't afford it, nowhere I go. I just paid a parking ticket that I got for being at a damn meter for two minutes. That's what I get for saving a quarter.

9 JESUS, they're just content to . . . Columbia is full of a bunch of lemmings. They just love to stand in line somewhere. Not me.

10 I love you angel, I'll be picking Annie up at two. I have to go by the Jam Room. I had to order some hardware and cases . . . . Um, I'm ready to kill someone right now.

11 Blume is not taking it anymore. This is one white man, GONE MAD!

In The Wilderness: A Testament To The Work ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenomonen

~~

It won't work, if you don't do it.

2 It won't work if you don't do it.

3 It won't work if you don't do it.

4 But you don't do it for that.

5 "Gonna have to give it up, gonna have to give it up, I've got to give it up." -CURTIS MAYFIELD

CHAPTER TWO

Thank you, Courtyard Coffeehouse for providing the most peaceful of places to do work.

2 To some other patrons of other shops, 'what would you like for me to do, so that you will feel more comfortable?'

CHAPTER THREE

Work is kind of like crossing your legs under a table, outside of Cafe Strudel, and meeting some resistance with a table leg under the table, but dealing with it gladly, and crossing your legs just so, only to find out it wasn't a table leg at all, but merely the leg of this cute little school chair in front of you, and easily and lightly pushed aside . . . just a little, of course.

CHAPTER FOUR

"This is Christian's story."

2 (interrupting) "That's a Christian story?"

3 "No, Christian in there."

4 "Oh, I was gonna say, 'let me read that Christian Story." (I still wanted to read that story).

CHAPTER FIVE

On the way to . . . .

2 'You ain't havin' fun, you jes' drinkin' them beers.'

3 You ain't havin' fun, you jes' drinkin' that coffee.'

4 . . . I'm having fun.

CHAPTER SIX

Coffee roasters or roosters . . . .

2 A serious, 'get your work done' place. Don't look up. Don't stare, they just might leave.

3 Still a very nice place--close to the State House, you know--I'll be back, if they let me.

4 Watch that smile--really--I mean it.

5 Still--so--quiet.

6 Only coffee shop, that I know that is this quiet. You can hear the heater, air-conditioner, generator, refrigerator rumbling: very, very, soothing--oh my God, I know why I used to like this place--why?

7 Oh, Jesus! Don't spill your coffee in here. The illusion will be over before you can say . . . .

8 I love to see people working.

9 I can not tell you any more secrets about this place.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Earlier thought . . . .

2 "I can't be a prophet."

3 "Why?"

4 "It would have stopped raining when I said, 'stop.'"

5 Omniphantolmiss Envelopex, this is the most fun I've had in sometime. I'm writing in lower and upper case for the first time since . . . grade school?

CHAPTER EIGHT

There are three thing people might do.

2 One group will chant for the crucifixion.

3 One group will reluctantly step aside.

4 One group will let themselves be crucified.

5 Or, maybe they won't do that crucifixion thing anymore; maybe they won't do anything at all.

CHAPTER NINE

Happend to see the Uncle Remus Museum on Sunday.

2 Turns out, Uncle Remus is a fictional character.

3 A certain Mr. Harrison actually wrote all of the 'Brer Rabbit' stories as well as others attributed to Uncle Remus.

4 Mr. Harrison was a very shy child.

5 "Now, I know they don't make shy children nowadays." -HOSTESS AT THE UNCLE REMUS MUSEUM

6 Mr. Harrison was poor and worked on the plantation.

7 Mr. Harrison listened to three black slaves during the days working. He was probably eavesdropping, I'm `a guessin'.

8 Mr. Harrison, or little Harrison, wrote stories based on this (colorful) dialect.

9 Some people noticed little Harrison's talent . . . gift.

10 Sometime later, Mr. Harrison worked for the Atlanta Constitution.

11 As Mr. Harrison's stature--in the world--grew, he remained 'painfully shy'.

12 So shy, in fact, that he rarely frequented social events, 'cuz he was afraid they might ask him to speak.

13 At the Uncle Remus Museum, in Eatonton, Georgia--where Mr. Harrison lived 'till he was eight--they sell just a few things on the shelf.

14 Admission to the Museum is one dollar.

15 When I go back, I want to get the little red book that also has the lyrics to songs that little Harrison heard from the three black slaves on the plantation.

16 The hostess told me that they had some audio-cassettes of Mr. Harrison's stories, inspired by the dialect and colorful language of the three black slaves down on the plantation.

17 "They sold like hot-cakes," the nice hostess told me.

18 When the man brought the last shipment in, however, he said it would be the last.

19. _____________.

20. They had become politically incorrect.

21. Thanks for the protection, guys and dolls.

22. Maybe some things shouldn't be recorded.

CHAPTER TEN

Can I tell you about Sollie--Sollace Jennings, that is.

2 Sollie is not the most technical bass player, in fact, he's not really a bass player at all.

3 He plays guitar and writes songs.

4 My band recorded on of his songs, called 'Strange Town' (pronounced, 'scrange town') which is about Pontiac, South Carolina.

5 I've always loved and cherished playing drums in the band with Sollie.

6 On these occasions, Sollie is usually filling in for our regular bassist.

7 Playing rhythm and blues with Sollie is I really playing R & B.

8 Sollie and I love to talk in the van, while on the way to and from these 'occasions'.

9 Sollie and I, dissenters by choice, are close.

10 Sollie talks about the black church-goers and 'they Jesus, that's they Jesus'--keep putting up with shit down here, 'cuz it's going to be a lot better up there.

11 Sollie is a member of the 'corner nigger' family. Sollie is a 'corner nigger'.

12 If Sollie, or pale me . . . if we were to break down, for example, on the way to Beaufort, South Carolina (low country, soul country), all Sollie or pale me would have to say is 'I'm (or I know one) a 'corner nigger', a Jennings 'corner nigger' and everything would be ofay.

In The Wilderness: A Gospel According to Aaron ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenomonen

~~

It came to be that on one day, a conference was convened, of which, the purpose was to sanctify the educators of the land, and of such purpose, it was a lie.

2 Joan Baez was there, of which, even she admitted the incredulity of her presence. She sang for a fee, yet subtly denounced as such, the convention's pretenses.

3 And among many salesmen, there also was, as a marquee novelty, a man named Terry Anderson. One who had endured many days as a hostage in Iran.

4 And it came to be, that Terry Anderson announced that he knew not why he was at the conference, but nevertheless, he was, and that he should tell a tale of those times in that foreign country.

CHAPTER TWO

And his message was simple, as he merely stated that as a hostage, the days grew exceedingly unbearable for thine intellect.

2 And even after days and days of debating both sides on any given issue with a fellow hostage, the days grew exceedingly yet more unbearable.

3 Until at such a time, Mr. Anderson demanded, "GIVE ME SOMETHING TO READ!" And it came to be that an Iranian guard finally threw a Bible in the cell.

4 Upon which, Mr. Anderson, through his days in captivity, read front to back no less than sixty times.

5 And after telling this personal tale, Mr. Anderson said, "All I can tell you is that something is there."

6 And upon a 'question and answer' precept, a certain conference attendee asked if there, perhaps, were an appropriate verse that may relate in one way or another to the further sanctification of the educational attendees attending thus conference.

7 At which time, Terry Anderson replied, "All I can tell you is that I've read it sixty times, and that there is something there." At which point, attendee sat down.

CHAPTER THREE

Dear brother and sister, I only tell you this tale told to me by the apostate Aaron, because . . . do you really have to ask?

2 The Bible is truly the Bible.

3 And it has been almost 2000 years since any scripture as such has been written.]

4 We do not know how God, Mother of Nature . . . how we sons of God, daughters of God--God that surpasses all understanding--works.

5 They say that 2000 or 1000 years is a blink of an eye to Him, Her.

6 Just use that super, fast-forward camera view that is popular in these times, and wonder, big time, that that time was not so long ago.

~~

In The Wilderness: An Apologia ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenomonen

~~

Dear Lord, why is it that we are verily capable of becoming either Christ or anti-Christ?

2 How is one to know the prophet from the false prophet?

3 Is there a Book of Life?

4 Is there a world without end?

5 Is capitalism merely a name?

6 Why do we have to name everything?

7 Is anyone truly innocent?

8 Is anyone truly guilty?

9 "And we've got nothing to be guilty of, our love, climb any mountain, near or far; our love is a pathway to the stars."-BARRY GIBB

CHAPTER TWO

Dear Lord, why is it that we are fully capable of becoming either Christ or anti-Christ?

2 How are we to know when we've been led astray?

3 Is there such a thing as being 'led astray'?

4 Are there things that we've done that should never be forgiven?

5 Why do I always seem to forget those things that don't reflect so well, dear Lord, you know . . . they kind of mess with my personal historical narrative, you know what I mean?

6 "Don't want to hear your goodbyes, I don't want to hear your goodbyes."-BARRY GIBB

CHAPTER THREE

Dear Lord, Son of you, why is it that I'm fully capable of becoming either the Christ or the Anti-Christ?

2 Ah, so ya' think you are capable of becoming the Christ, huh?

3 I didn't say anything.

4 Oh, yes you did.

5 "I don't want to hear your goodbyes, I don't want to hear your goodbyes."-BARRY GIBB

CHAPTER FOUR

So you want to be the anti-Christ, yeah-yeah, the anti-Christ.

2 Oh, my daughter uses the 'yeah-yeah' thing all the time. I was dumbfounded when I heard it on one of the soccer kid's answering machine as well. "yeah-yeah . . . anti-Christ . . . yeah-yeah"

(think Beavis and Butthead). But, I don't think the girls have ever watched the show. What gives?

CHAPTER FIVE

I'm sorry to inform you that the 'Christ' and the 'anti-Christ' are positions that are appointed. In fact, it's been decided already for many a year by now.

2 You mean there's no chance at it.

3 I don't think so.

4 You mean, it's 'signed, sealed, delivered?"

5 As far as I know.

6 All-righty then.

CHAPTER SIX

Lord, is it still possible that any one of us could become the Christ or the anti-Christ?

2 Well, for God's sake, anything is possible.

3 Like Kim Possible?

4 Like white on rice, dear brother.

5 I don't want to be the anti-Christ.

6 Well, it is a position of considerable power.

7 . . . and prestige.

8 Well, yeah, I guess.

9 Have your cake and eat it too?

10 Every last bite, baby.

11 Rock on with your bad-self

~~

In The Wilderness: The Apostate Cracker Ray's Letter to the Choosers ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenomonen

~~

And in these times, brothers and sisters, behold, and be not afraid of these manifestestations that appear to us with such frequency, yea, on this very day, on this very evening.

2 For unto you is given this special joy, that we may all enjoy the gifts you bring to us everyday.

3 Thank you, dear Lord, as you have given us strength and 'luck' in ever increasing instances. Thanks be to you. Thanks be to your children. Thanks be to you.

CHAPTER TWO

And as it is right to do so, we strive to . . .

2 Untangle the mystery, the message that lies within us, the choosers, so that of course, we may offer life without death, yea, that 'precious present' we already have, that cannot be reclaimed, yea, same as it ever was, same as it ever was.

CHAPTER THREE

And as we seek out these manifestations, yea, I am afraid.

2 But, I shall call you teacher, as your, my, God's manifestation shows in your face . . . your smile, and your disposition. Thanks be to you, Son of Man, Son of God, Son of you, Daughter of all.

CHAPTER FOUR

Delight in this adversity, but be sad, yet hopeful that verily, there are truly more good than bad. Here's to the choosers, blessed them all.

~~

In The Wilderness: A Book of Questions ~ Third Testament: coming of the second phenomonen

~A Book of Questions~

We are looking for the manifestation of Christ in others.

2 Why Christ?

3 Well, I guess it could be somebody else as well.

4 Why look?

5 Because, it's really fun.

6 Really?

7 Oh, yeah.

8 What are ya'll looking for?

9 I don't know.

10 I thought you said, "We're looking for the manifestation of Christ in others."

11 That is true.

12 Don't speak for others.

13 O.K.

CHAPTER TWO

How do you see the manifestation of Christ in others?

2 You see it by 'being'.

3 By 'being' what?

4 We see it by 'being' you.

5 Me?

6 Oh, yeah.

7 How can you be me?

8 Oh, I don't know.

9 ___________.

10 We can try.

11 ___________.

12 No more questions?

13 No.

14 O.K.

CHAPTER THREE

We are looking for the manifestation of Christ in others.

2 Oh, really.

3 Well, not today.

4 Why not today?

5 Oh, I don't know.

6 Well, it seems like a good thing to do.

7 Oh, I know . . . I guess.

8 You guess?

9 It was really easy yesterday.

10 I wonder why?

11 Oh, it seems so long ago.

12 Don't bring me down.

13 I'm sorry.

14 O.K.

CHAPTER FOUR

We are looking for the manifestation of Christ in others.

2 Do you think this 'book' thing is really a good idea?

3 Yes. And especially if it's inspired.

4 You mean if you have a groove on.

5 It really helps.

6 But, does that make 'the work' inspired . . . divine?

7 I think so. It definitely helps.

8 Helps it be divine.

9 Or maybe a sign, that yes, this work could be divine.

10 So, what are ya'll looking for?

CHAPTER FIVE

We are looking for the manifestation of Christ in others.

2 Is it easy?

3 Oh, we do it all the time.

4 Isn't that a song?

5 That would be true.

6 I knew that.

7 I heard the did a Christan album no long after that one.

8 So.

CHAPTER SIX

We are looking for the manifestation of Christ in others.

2 I hate 'being' homeless.

3 Yeah, me too.

4 You're not homeless.

5 I am right now.

6 You have a home.

7 But my van is at the shop, and it's raining (harder) at the coffee shop.

8 O.K.

9 I have to pick my daughter up in thirty minutes.

10 "__________."

11 This really sucks.

In The Wilderness: Peter 3:16

~Peter 3:16~

As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; in which are somethings hard to understand, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also other scriptures, unto their own destruction.

In The Wilderness: BeBop

~BeBop~

Ofay, I saved the 'beaner' for last, because, out of all the original members of the band, he's the only one I still talk to, get advise for and laugh with. You will not ever have one conversation, regardless of the solemnity of the call, without breaking into at least two hearty laughs. That, dear brothers and sisters, is the gift that keeps on giving (meaning you'll laugh to yourself a couple more times in retelling the story Bebo told you earlier). The 'bean' is--probably the only--person that I can tell the raw, unexpurgated truth to, of something in my life, no matter how embarrassing or humiliating, and then receive 'his' honest and truthful feeling on the subject. I end up going with his suggestion 90% of the time, and the other 10%, he's respectful in not telling me, "told you so." That's not his style (well at least he wouldn't tell me that). Bebo was the only trained vocalist in the group, and long after he started his own group, I remain dependent on him in absolutely every studio project I embarked on--a group still going on today, dear brothers and sisters. Thank God, we still talk. With Bebo being the only other member to take on the 'heady' position of band owner and leader, the advise I get from him is really rare. You have no idea how many people simply can't stomach the idea of being the sole person responsible for a project, business or band of any capacity. This is tall, skinny, blond Bebo. The facts are that he could run for Mayor in Orangeburg without putting a dime into campaining and still get over 70% of the vote. I don't know if he's even remotely interested, but there probably is not another original person in the group that affects so many lives in a 'positive' and hilarious heart burning way than my dear brother, the B.

~nuff said.

In The Wilderness: Uncle Mark

~Uncle Mark~

Being that uncle Mark was the only original soul brother in the group and the fact that we're in the southernest state in the confederacy, I was going to put him last, but we'll break the rules and do 'the dog' now. Mark and I were in homeroom together all four years of high-school at the newly integrated (figuratively speaking) Orangeburg-Wilkinson High. I remember when he and his brother in the 'cool' black fraternity would all of a sudden all wear 'little boy' suits to class. I mean the coolness and gumption of those cats was incredible. Now, our next brother, Bebo, actually integrated that 'black fraternity' at some point as well which just adds to a cool story, if you didn't already know by now.

We were assembling members in the band, when I saw Mark leaving the prescription shoppe (the legal one) one fall afternoon in 1986. Knowing that Mark played sax--we had jammed together before with some other soul brothers--I immediately asked him to join the band. He did. Turns out, Uncle Mark was a hell-uv-a lot better vocalist that a saxophonist. I can't tell you how many times I told Mark on the way back from a show, how he was going to hit it big time. Well, he's still waiting for the national exposure, but in Macon, Georgia (his home--as in his song) the brother is famous. Mark's vocal style is absolutely nothing but soul, the texture, the timbre is just sheer original and faithful Mark. On one of my failed escapes from the material world, I got to celebrate his (or mine, I can't remember) thirty-third birthday in Washington, DC. I would later make it to Phoenix, Arizona before begging for a flight back home. So silly. And who else was thirty-three last time anyone saw him? Anyway, so much more to write on 'the dog', but there will be more in forthcoming blogs.

*Before I let you go, I have to say that whenever I was faced extreme financial (what else?) difficulties, I could call the Uncle Mark (actually, this is how my daughter refers to him) in Macon, Georgia from Columbia, South Carolina and after a desperate chat, he would say something like, ". . . and Willis, all I can say is that I know that I'm a child of God" and well that's all the assurance I would need to get by. The Dog.

In The Wilderness: Randall

~Randall~

Oh yeah, it's time for the Randmeister! Randy was the 'elder guy' in the original group. He was also the lady's man as well, until 'lil Jeff and the B. surpassed him that is. Although, Randall is still every bit the lady's man--meaning all the ladies like him, but he's faithfully and happily married with a wonderful young son (where the younger got the blond hair, I don't know, but I hope his daddy tells him where all that hair could lead to based on the expieriences of Jeffthro and the bopper)--but, regardless, he's still the 'lady's man'. You, of course, know you can be a lady's man and be a faithful man as well. Just ask me most of the time. Anyways, most importantly, Randall was the older mentor and our rock of the group. I think we all felt, in the band, that if we ever went too overboard in our wild and zany planning of our shows, that Randall would say something and if he didn't say something, everything was probably ofay. Also, if we ever got worried about 'actually' being able to do something (make the gig, buy new uniforms), if Randall didn't say anything, we were probably ofay, again. And most of the time we really were, but the Randmeister eased our minds. If Randy thinks it's OK, it's probably OK and we knew he would make sure it was, and man, you know like we weren't even afraid, while Randy was in the band, that anyone--anyone--would ever kick our presumptuous asses. That was a good feeling. Thanks, Randall.

In The Wilderness: Ronnie G!

~Ronnie G!-

Wow, Ron's bio would fill several volumes, but if you ever meet him, he'll be sure to tell you a good bit of it orally. Along with Vic, Ronnie G. and I were the only members of the band to already be best friends. I remember the first time I met Ron in Mrs. Lingerfelt's 9th grade English class. We were in one of those popular air-conditioned cubicles--probably the spring of 1980--when Mrs. Lingerfelt asked Ron to move his desk because he was distracting the entire class from the lesson at the time. Well, Ron not only moved his desk, but he did a little number where the desk--a big desk--actually flipped over his head and landed with a loud crash on the cubicle carpet. Man, I knew it was going to be a good day and semester from that point on in Mrs. Lingerfelt's English class. The first time I was invited to spend the night at his wild house--I mean, from his mother who I had, or still do, have a tremendous crush on, to his father and brother and sister--it was indescribable the goings on at 772 Ellis Avenue. I remember Ronnie using the over sized spoon hanging on the wall to eat his entire box of sweetened cereal. There are too many more incidents to relate in this particular blog right now, but . . . oh, you'll hear them soon enough. I haven't even scratched the surface of this wild and crazy family whom I still love today, despite divorces, being kicked out of his home and we'll just stop right there. In the band, Ron was the one that just literally spoke to the people. He had a connection with the audience--believe it or not, this is an extremely rare trait in performers, regardless of one's standing in the all-encompassing entertainment industry--I mean when he talked, sang, people listened, because they absolutely knew he was coming straight from the heart. Ronnie G. did this on-stage and off and despite the still agonizing fact that he tried to throw me in the Mediterranean from a US Destroyer off the coast of Italy in 1988, I still love the cat, even despite some things he 'mistakenly' did, concerning me long after that. Hey, he was probably right, but it still hurts. Ronnie G! There will only be one. We simply couldn't handle another.

In The Wilderness: ~Jeffthro~

~Jeffthro~

Jeff and I probably go back further than anyone in the band. His father and mine were in various bands together before the 'blond one' was even born. Jeff had an unusual gift in that, for as a kid and an adult who detests reading, he literally could master anything he wanted to. First the Rubik's Cube, then Michael Jackson's moon walk (and any other dance the 'gloved one' could do), later golf and at this time in our career; the bass-guitar. Our fathers introduced our first experience in playing music with together when we were very young whippersnappers. Jeff was on bass, his older brother Johnnie on guitar and me on drums. Jeff's dad was a guitarist and mine a drummer. I still remember the transcendental feeling of the first time we ran through the flip-side of a ZZ Top '45, a song Jeff's dad thought we could perhaps play. The three instruments together somehow made my drums seem like they were actually playing and changing with the notes that Jeff and Johnnie were playing on their 'melodic' instruments. Much later, one of Vic's Nashville cohorts told me a joke that is so true. "What do you call those people who hang around musicians?" "What?" "Drummers." Much, much later, Jeff and I would discover that the two us us had the exact dynamics in OUR relationship--good and bad--that my dad and his father had over thirty years ago. This is our little brother, Jeffthro.

In The Wilderness ~Vic~

~vic~

Vic was really the only musician of the group. He was the Elton John loving piano-playing prodigy that he still is today. Vic and I go so far back as to be fellow flag bearers as children in the Episcopal Church; the church all adults desiring of upper-social mobility joined in Orangeburg, South Carolina at the time and possibly to this day. And to this day, I envy Vic's profound ability to sit on any publicly provided piano and wow those in attendance with the full and completely orchestrated rendition of practically any popular song on the radio. The one we heard the most was 'Babe' by Styx. Vic would play the signature piano line verbatim, but he would also play the lead vocal line, the bass line and any other part you may have remembered about the song, or rather any song he happened to wow you with.

Vic was a prodigy for as long as I can remember. He told me he learned to first play piano by ear when he discovered he could play a snippet of a Jackson 5 '45, then figure out the part on the home piano and then go on to the next part until he had the entire song down. When his parents took him to his first piano lesson and the teacher asked him to play what he knew, he was so embarrassed and not wanting to 'show up' the teacher; that while he could have played the complete version of 'Crocodile Rock', he instead purposely did a clumsy rendition of something like 'Jesus Loves Me' or ' Happy Birthday'. This is Vic, my brother.

In The Wilderness ~the original band~

~the band~

As most childhood stories are dreadfully similar, we'll just start with the formation of a wildly successful band of brothers (at least in mine eyes). After many false starts we were finally able to 'kick' it off in 1986. Most of us had performed together in competing air bands in the middle of the '80's. The original group consisted of seven members and their story is as follows:

In The Wilderness: confessions of a foul-mouthed believer II

II.

Nothing is so close to a man as his own thought. It is within him, and is a very real sense of himself. So nothing is so close to God as His own eternal Word. It is within Him, it is one with Him, and it is divine like Him.

J.R. DUMMELOW, M.A.

In The Wilderness ~four~

~four~

My routine is plain and simple. I read (study) prior to daybreak the verse, poetry and prose for the day from "DAILY STRENGTH FOR DAILY NEEDS" selected by Mary Wilder Tileston and originally published in 1849 and given to my great-grandfather from his daughter, Nana, on Christmas of 1945. I follow the daily reading with the corresponding verse and complete chapter from the ragged and marked King James Bible (what else?) of my Papa's. This part of routine is always followed to the letter and the rest of the day's readings are followed rather loosely, but sincerely. After breakfast, it's "The Fourth Turning: An American Prophesy" by William Strauss and Neil Howe, 1997 (don't trust any prophesy written after 2001). This is the second book I've read from these two wonderful authors. They continue here with an illuminating study of 100 year cycles in English/American history. After dinner (that's lunch for those who wonder), it's "The Sun and the Moon: The Remarkable True Account of Hoaxers, Showmen, Dueling Journalists, and Lunar Man-Bats, in Nineteenth-Century New York" by Matthew Goodman, 2008. This fascinating book of non-fiction reads like a novel and vividly describes the 'lively' newspaper business in the city of New York during the 1830's. At night, tucked in bed, it's "The Antagonists" by Ernest K. Gann, 1970. I lifted this little red book from the fifth-floor of Baptist Medical Center--my home away from home--and Gann dramatically describes an intense, psychological relationship between some proud Jews and Romans around 50 A.D. I can't tell if this book is part and parcel fiction or non-fiction and that just makes it more riveting for me just before I retire from the day. My daily study is rounded out by the book I choose to carry with me to the pot, Susan Forward's "Emotional Blackmail: When the People in Your Life Use Fear; Obligation and Guilt to Manipulate You", 1997. I checked this book out at the Cherokee County Public Library thinking 'I' was the victim only to be shocked to find out that 'I' was the emotional blackmailer as well and a pretty nasty one at that. I guess we study to learn, but, man . . . this was a tough pill to swallow. This is the present, now we turn to the past.

In The Wilderness ~ three ~

~three~

At this moment--right at this moment--the love of my life, my band, is entertaining or rather warming up the crowd at a very high-brow and very elegant, southern wedding reception at the esteemed Cherokee Golf & Country Club in Atlanta, Georgia. The reception and entertainment were booked over a year in advance. How these bride and grooms (to be) stay committed while postponing actual fulfillment of their vows for so long in order to secure the venue and band of their choice is amazing and inspiring. And I'm here in Cherokee, South Carolina writing on my 89 year's old Nana's kitchen table . . . that's how bad I am.

In The Wilderness ~ two~

~two~

To say again, I'm so forking cool right now, that this--and my life--is my soul inspiration (or reason) in writing this biography. And for God's sake, at this moment in time; you, me, anyone, can do whatever the hell we want to. Amen. I may still be semi-patiently waiting on that $100. check for some recently sold PA gear, all for the sole purpose of purchasing a carton of Marathon menthol 100's--oh my God, the security of that carton--and in the meantime, I've used all of my available resources in sight; Papa's (my late grandfather) lone silver dollar and his tattered and taped dollar bill--guaranteed in silver as well. That's right, all resources pillared, seven menthol's left and not to mention the depletion of the last of his mason jar full of 'white lighting', circa; 1997. As Elvis once sang, 'It's Now or Never' and I feel a hell-uv-a-jones coming on tomorrow, Sunday morning.

In The Wilderness ~ one ~

~ one ~

To start, right at this moment, I'm probably--and I use the term lightly-- the second baddest motherfo to ever step foot on this planet. Now that we've got that under the carpet, let's get to the details and unlike some self-tellers out there, I'll tell you the unexpurgated truth. And to ease the queasy mind; I've never been forked in the buttocks by my dear uncle--God, the things people will say about themselves in order to receive some splendor. I, myself, have really led a pretty semi-normal life. To be sure, four stays in the mental health hospital may be my only claim to specialness.

In fact, the only thing that might compare is that in an age of extreme, economic insecurity--through no choice of my own--I happen to be happily and peacefully retired at the age of forty-three. Hence, this biography; I'm sorry, but I've gots to keep busy. Don't we all, dear brothers and sisters.

Before we get into the autobiographical schlep, let us firmly state why we are all here at this unique moment in time. Some two-thousand years ago, a 'clint eastwood' type of guy walked on the same dirt we walk on today. He had some cool things to say, did some cool things . . . and then they killed him. Now, it's not all that bad. I've often said that 90% of everything we strive for will fail. And, hell, I can't even remember the 10% that didn't. In a world where inspiration is the saving grace of we pitiful people, it's damn inspiring to know that over two-thousand years later, I still believe. Still believe in miracles that is. And you know, dear brothers and sisters, it's not a miracle if you tell it. So there, on with a story . . . (no miracles intended).

In The Wilderness: confessions of a foul-mouthed believer

I.

Let me pass through thy land: we will not turn into the fields, or into the vineyards; we will not drink of the waters of the well: but we will go along by the king's high way, until we be past thy borders.

NUMBERS

xxi.22

The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

ISIAH

xL.3