Archive for the ‘Dreams’ Category

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Day 9 -The End of the World

Monday, January 9th, 2012

December 2011:
If I was in a coma, I’m all better now. Through out all the blackness of the dream there was no hope and no escape. I knew I would emerge and Christmas would be waiting. When you are buried alive in work and you can’t escape, it is worse then a windowless jail cell.
Kryha:
She is very good at hiding her love.
Why I’m a bad fan:
I gave up on this team a long time ago. Even after their miracle of 2007/08 and even after knowing football for over forty years. So much can happen…quickly. The philosophy of a football season is totally unpredictable , even more then life itself. I gave up on this team so many times and never give them hope. I am a bad fan. (I think it is all because I don’t want to get hurt)
Getting Hurt
Hurts.
Fear:
Fear and I have been walking hand in hand along the beach my whole life. It is so romantic and sexy. I just never want to let go.
Alcohol:
When I see people at the Giants games, so drunk, so stupid, that they probably won’t remember anything, I say to myself; “That should be me. By the grace of God, there I go.”
I don’t miss drinking, I don’t crave it. I don’t hate people that drink, I have no desire to drink. The dreams, (like that work coma) have gone away a very long time ago. Once I was sitting/standing in a bar with Kryha in Hoboken, New Jersey. She had one beer. She had so so much fun and I envied her a little. Everyone else was having fun and drinking. A great fear (my beach walking friend) came over me for about two seconds that I was missing out on living life and that I was gonna die soon. Then I realized that if I didn’t stop drinking 8,089 days ago…..I would already be dead. I can guarantee that.
Church:
A place where Fear never goes. (he is on the beach) I feel safe there.
The end of the world
If (when) Iran gets a nuclear weapon, it will be the start. When the globe begins to get micro-waved, I pray that I am in church when it happens. They say the world is supposed to end this year. I don’t think it will. It is supposed to come like e thief in the night….so maybe next year.

My son Jonathan and I at the first playoff game at the new stadium. The crowd was crazy. Sometimes I feel so far away from Johnny. I love him so much. This was a great day. A day to always remember.

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In heaven, men can smoke cigars and watch football.

Friday, November 18th, 2011

Once a long time ago in the 1960′s when things were different. Friendships and families were etched in real life, and not “on-line”. Face to face with booze, cards, cigars, cheap bars, real talk, real people and you couldn’t hide behind a monitor and a mouse. The TV broke down all the time because it had picture tubes in it. Men watched the NFL because it was a great game and not a big business nursing over-paid egos. There were REAL heros on the REAL grass playing half back for half ass salaries. There were heros circling the earth in tin cans and The Daily News had “all the news that’s fit to print” Those were the days. Lucky Filter commercials on the tube while sipping Schaffer beer…..and me and my cousins were around to remember this. To witness the love and togetherness of two families.
Since my reunion with Jaybird my memories have broken open and the things that I thought I remembered were only the tip of the iceburg. That as a very little boy I went around the living room while Jay and George drank beer from cans (that you had to open with a can opener) and I was “allowed” to take sips. And I loved it, cause it made me feel all warm and fuzzy and it had nothing to do with Y.A. Tittle throwing touchdowns against the Cleveland Browns on a mud field covered in straw.
Jay was a very tall man with a pom pom and a military uniform. His laugh was contagious and his smile endless. He loved my father and my father loved him. They journeyed into the Bronx New York together to watch The New York Football Giants play in a baseball stadium. They drank beer and laughed and celebrated life like two happily married men with children should. The economy was good, The Beatles were on Ed Sullivan and the Worlds Fair (the most famous EVER) was alive and well and only a stones throw from NJ. Gas was cheap and driving to and fro even on school and work nights was easy.
Brother-in-laws that cared for and took time to see each other whenever they could. They created a pact whether they knew it or not. That life is way too short to fight or cry or ignore. Life was good. But then like everything that is supposed to last forever……it changed. The endless happy visits to military bases suddenly cut short because fate had other plans.

Jaybird and Butch. Las Vegas November 2011. George Sr. and Jay Sr are smiling from the eerie glow of the night sky.


Turns out George Sr. died rather mysteriously and quickly and Jay followed right behind him about a year later. They left a legacy of fourteen children and two totally confused and frightened wives.
They missed everything that life had to offer after that. The cousins fell between three thousand miles and over thirty years of weddings, funerals, grandchildren, Super Bowls, vacations, sunsets, new cars, sickness, disappointment, happiness, technology, and all the extreme highs and lows that life can bring.
And one windy Fall night on the roof of a Parking lot, in the depths of Sin City’s neon glow, “The pact” was renewed. And whether they knew it or not…it all came together again….survivors, dreamers and lovers. The first time he grabbed me and hugged me…it actually shocked me(it wasn’t in front of a pool)….and when I asked him about that hug he said, “It’s just the type of person I am.”

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Excuse me, while I kiss the sky.

Monday, January 31st, 2011

Oh, James you said it so well. With your guitar licks and deep lyrics. Don’t be afraid of the dark anymore. One day I’ll be home. Wherever and whatever that is.
If I owned a home AGAIN-it would be a happy little brick house with happy landscaping and a big big big tree to protect me from harm. I could cut the grass and smell the flowers, grow vegetables – happy vegetables – and put up a fence to keep out bad people. Happy little bad people. Life would be good. I would have a garage with happy tools to make happy things. People would drive by and say, “Hey, look at that happy little brick house on the corner over there!! And the house would say, “You’re damn right!” Inside the happy house would be happy people and life would be happy. The end.

the smug brick house on the corner

Oh

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winter solace

Thursday, January 13th, 2011

Today was fuzzy socks
under a tall tree of solitude
long branches dipping
into sandy creek
reflections
of sun
and who I am

Today is over in a sea
of yellow orange
love that I intend
oh, distant heart
distant heart
can you hear me?

Today was an astonishing island
shipwrecked imagination
that howls in the tunnel
of nightfall
Outside is frozen mulch
and hungry birds

Tomorrow will come tonight
out of the forest of fears
and the lights of all-night diners
racing blood
imprisoned memory
of yesterday

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Posted in Art, Dreams, Self Portrait | 2 Comments »

The real failure of improv is not trying it.

Sunday, November 21st, 2010


Bob bought me some orange chicken on 30th street. The Rangers homecoming. Ranger Blue and Red everywhere. The wind dancing with discarded newspapers. I’ve been waiting for this yellow-taxied moment-standing in the middle of the greatest city in the world – looking up – Lazy tripping reflections off the million or so windows. Translucent double-sided clear, removable vinyl, mounted to 1/4″ gator board.
“Where’s my freakin fortune cookie?”
My father grew roses around the house – like the necklace around your neck. And they bloomed twice a year. Sometimes at peak, if you walked out into the yard, the fragrance would almost knock you down.
My father grew a business in a ritzy rich town – like an ice cream store in hell. And it bloomed with burlap and silk. Sometimes during a sale, if you walked out into the racks of fabric, the fragrance would almost knock you down.
The Diary Of A Sex Addict (ACT 8 SCENE 3)
“Ok ok ok, just leave me alone…you fucking asshole. I’m not some damn machine!”
“I love you.”
(curtain)

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sky thoughts

Wednesday, September 15th, 2010

Heaven: The weather is always nice and there are no flies.

all my magic is floating away......

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Diary of a Sex Addict

Tuesday, July 27th, 2010

Things began early that day. The alarm clock never wakes you. It is the dreams, thoughts and swirling blood in your body. Saturated with sex.
Dinner (last night): Shellfish, sauteed garlic and several long stares at the waitresses ass.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. Doing laundry at 3am, watching Spanish TV and noticing the cops passing the windowed wall real slow”
Butch: (perplexed) All bloodthinners.
Coco: What is?
Butch: Everything I ate for dinner.
Coco: And all that aspirin you eat too. What is that all about?
Butch: (changing the channel) It’s good for your heart.
It started early in life. Addiction. When I was sick Mom gave me hot tea and St Joseph’s Children’s Aspirin. Two of them and you had to chew them. They certainly weren’t candy but they weren’t overwhelmingly medicine tasting but I liked the bitterness and the tea had caffeine. So I felt better. Immediately after that was the taboo of vagina, ass and tits. Women didn’t poop. They were too amazing. So these nonhuman objectified “things” walking across parking lots in tight jeans. Tight jeans were like an overdose of St Joseph’s aspirin and the price of a porno magazine escalated to over $5.00 each so I stole them.
6:22 PM: You have planned every second of the next two hours. Your mind is enveloped in the reflections in shiny silver cash registers and dressing room mirrors. You walk in, look up at the cameras, buy a Snickers Bar and leave. As you drive home in peace, the sun melts into the night like lava. Orange clouds imitate smoke and a plane sinks into the horizon.
Butch: Wish I was in that plane, I don’t care where it is going.
Coco: (squinting into the sunset) Looks like it is going south from here.
Butch: (getting off his bike) Yeah, south … south ….south is good.

The Clouds Lately
Summer skies are beautiful. So hard to predict. I love those big puffy mountainous cumulous monsters. I could just sit in a chair on the beach and watch those all day. The clouds lately have reminded me of Florida. Dramatic puffey white and a sun shower. This Summer has been nothing to me. Nowhere. Nothing. Roadside America for a couple of hours. I have been invited to Hall of Fames, pools, free rooms, great company, awesome family and BBQ’s. I am a slave to my job. I need to stretch my legs. I am making up for lost time though, last Summer I was lost in upstate New York. Jungles and rivers. Waking up to sleep naked by the side of the water. Weed whacker. Banner sealer. Sign designer.

The piece of wood that Gary found.


A while ago Gary found this piece of wood with four very old photos of mom pasted to it. It was up high on a shelf in his home. These are some very amazing photographs. Mom is very young (very) and I don’t even think she met or knew Dad yet. Her boyfriend evidently had a camera and loved to take photos of this young sexy thing.

Detailed close up. Your mothers ass sitting on top of a convertible.

Butch: I don’t blame my sex addiction on my mothers genes….but I wish I had more of Dads genes and maybe I would have more money.
Coco: (putting on her panties) It’s never too late Butchie boy. You can be rich if you want. Ha ha ha. Money is the root of ALL happiness. Think about all the women you would have!
Butch: Yeah, right.
Coco: Remember how many hours your father spent in front of that mechanical manual adding machine. Chaa chaa ching. Chaaaa chaaa ching ???
Butch: Yeah. It was all about the money, it was always about the money. The ONE and ONLY vacation we went on to Gettysburg Pennsylvania and I remember him adding things up as we went along on a piece of paper.
Coco: And that darn Bible. Put the book down and pick up your children for Gods sake.
Butch: (lighting a cigarette) Do you think he would have been counting his money and buttons if he knew how short life really is??
Butch: Especially HIS life.

7:12 PM:
The urge is too strong sometimes. Overwhelming. Like the need for a smoke. Gotta have it. Want it. The internet is the crack cocaine of a new generation of sex addicts. Tommy put his Dell 560 with 4 gig of memory on the front seat of his Honda and drove to the bridge at midnight. On the bridge, he slowly lifted the computer from the tangle of seat belts and lifted it over his head. It was a few seconds before he heard the plastic splash. He was relieved and excited all at once. His heart pumping like crazy as he drove away.I’m free. Never again. Yet the next night he is buying a new one on sale at Best Buy.

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Recalculating !

Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009

My greatest image of mom, was of her sitting at our extra large custom-made kitchen table and writing letters. She wrote thousands of letters. One day as a young boy she took me around the block to the nearest mailbox and “taught” me how to mail a letter. Those blue mail boxes had those awkward steel “tamper-thief-proof” flaps that screeched when you opened them.
“Always, always double check, to make sure that the letter has gone down. Open the door again to see.”
I had now become her mail-boy, so I really knew that she was a letter writing MACHINE.
Sure enough, one time, I opened the flap and someone elses mail was STILL sitting on the flap!
The dumb bastards didn’t have a smart enough mother to teach them how to properly mail a letter.

If mom were still here and healthy, she would have loved the digital world we live in now. She just missed eMails and the whole world being connected to a computer.
She would have loved Facebook and chatting and that you could “instantly” see photos or videos of your children or grandchildren.

MORE TECHNOLOGY UPDATES: Someone loaned me a navigator. I am simply and beyond belief amazed. Where has this thing been my whole life. I have been described by all my friends, family and children as being “directionally retarded”. I have lived in New Jersey my whole life and I just don’t get it. I’m lost everywhere I turn.
BUT NOW, I have this sexy voiced woman (I call her “Rosy, because she sounds like that maid on the Jetsons) telling me where and when to turn. I have been going up and down New York and Jersey the past few months and now, because of Rosy, I have no fear. I have saved gas. I have discovered new quicker routes. And I have fallen in love with this intelligent, sexy “woman” that sits on my dashboard.

If I had a navigator FOR LIVING LIFE, I wonder……would it take me the long route? Would it help me avoid “DETOURS”?
“Don’t take this job, George, you’re gonna regret it!”
“Look out for this one, George, she’s just using you.”
“Recalculating!”"Always make sure the letter drops......"

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Posted in Dreams, New Jersey, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

a birth of a new day

Sunday, July 26th, 2009

5:50 am Spring Lake NJ

5:50 am Spring Lake NJ


My boys have spent the last week at a friends house down the “Shore”, pool, beach and water park. So I went to pick them up and instead of fighting traffic Saturday morning, I zoomed into the darkness and slept on the beach in Spring Lake. The “Irish Rivera”, my old home for three years.
I will not exaggerate to say that sleeping on the beach behind the turned over lifeguard chair was a “spiritual experience” last night. Looking up into the crystal clear blackness was a million stars. The waves were high and rough. Off into the north east from many miles away, I could see the incrediable flashing and rumbling of a far away thunderstorm. I woke up from many dreams in my snuggy warm sleepingbag. A little alone. A little scared, but what I really couldn’t believe how FREEZING cold it was. The whole mechanics of HOW a good sleeping bag really works just amazed me. My own body heat was keeping me from being a big chicken and running back to the car.
I SURVIVED the icy night. I watched the sun come up in slow motion. A new day, like a new baby, coming out of the water, oblong at first, almost distorted, was just so amazing to me how the sky changed so many red hues.
Then the “morning people” came. Dog walkers, surfers, ocean khakis, and fishermen. I talked with some that came over to me, still nestled in my “camp”.
People do care. I felt that way when I read some of the comments when I came home from the beach. I miss everyone. I am so proud of Bonnie. I wanna hug Paul. Kiss Grant and Greg. Dance for Bernadette and Barb and go boating on a strange lake somewhere in south Florida.

Posted in Dreams, New Jersey, Tall Tales, Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

green dream……Entry for January 19, 2009

Friday, May 15th, 2009


I woke up this Sunday morning in a slow-motion glazy kind of way. Late morning. Tossing around several dream that I couldn’t leave behind in the clouds of sleep. In one dream Mom had just purchased a brand new home and the whole family was admiring it from the outside. It had some really cool high tech satellite dishes built on the side of it. “Now I can keep track of all of you.” she said with her wicked smile. Inside we all walked around together as a group. Almost like a tour group in a museum. Now we all walked into the Great Room. Cathedral ceiling and skylights. She was in the loft looking down on us. Everything was dark green. The fresh paint and walls were deep dark and rich like a forest. The upholstery was striped olive green with specks of orange. The ceiling to wall drapes were heavy and dark, it almost felt like night. All the hanging art was green with wooden green frames.
Outside on the deck our family gathered. Drinking and smoking. Laughing at Glenns jokes and memories. Aunt Carol was there and she seemed so much younger and thinner. She was wearing a green flannel shirt and her laugh boomed above everyone elses as usual. She had this silly smile on her face as she walked by me but I grabbed her and hugged her. This is where my dream got real freaky. Because it wasn’t a dream when I was hugging her. It was very very real. My head was in her huge bosom and I started crying. I don’t know why.
I woke up because suddenly she was gone. It startled me. It was real I thought and looked out the window at the falling snow.

Posted in Dreams, Mom Dad, New Jersey, Uncategorized | 7 Comments »

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