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There is a post at goodmorningfloridakeys.com today, which you should be able to reach by clicking on this link:
more blackboard jungle-ings, rhymes with juggle-ings, from the Florida Keys
Meanwhile, yesterday, from Jerry Weinstock, M.D. (Psychiatry, retired), and his wife, Donna, of Key West:
Sloan: thinking about it –you would make a fine Mayor: you have a wide scope of knowledge- you are open and flexible; your ethical standards are way beyond anyone who has run for that office; you are empathic by nature; YOU ACTUALLY HAVE THEBEST INTERESTS OF KEY WEST AT HEART; underneath you remind me of Vaclav Havel –the Czeck president —-poet and humanitarian who was elected by consent overwhelmingly; you don’t give yourself credit and people don’t really know the real Sloan under the armor —there is a lot of stress to run –I know—- this is my heart felt —analytical opinion. And you are analytical by nature—curious for knowledge……this is also my professional opinion after our interview—but disregard if it creates too much tension for you—–Best regards–enjoyed meeting with you –it was a pleasure. Sincerely ! Jerry and Donna
I replied:
Hi, Jerry -
You probably are too kind, but as someone who has been diagnosed by members of your own profession, and by some of my very close family members, friends, acquaintances, critics, an ex-wife with a PhD in Psychology, and another ex-wife with a Masters in Clinical Social Work as being unquestionably mentally ill, not to exclude mean-spirited and hurtful, I am happy for your kind words.
Right now, I have problems moving to Key West, which I would have to do to file to run for mayor. I have moved there before, to run for office down here. Morgan McPherson moved from Rockland Key to Key West in 2005, and he went on to upset (startle might apply also) Mayor Jimmy Weekley, and probably quite a few other people in Key West. On that startle, perhaps you will find this interesting.
In August of 2005, I was staying near Helen, Georgia for the summer. I had summered there in 2001, 2002 and 2004 also. In my sleep, I heard, “No more weeklies.” I awoke, wondered if that was about Jimmy Weekley. I went on line at the Helen library and saw Morgan McPherson was running against Jimmy Weekley. I figured what I’d heard meant Morgan was going to beat Jimmy. I told no one what I’d heard, and lo and behold Morgan beat Jimmy. When next I was in Key West, I went by city hall and looked Morgan up and told him what I’d heard in Helen, Georgia, and that I took it to mean he was God’s candidate in that race.
Poor Morgan, right after he was elected, Wilma flooded Key West, and what a wonderful present that was for a first-term mayor, the clean up after that destructive storm, which you and Donna certainly knew first hand. I figured Morgan was due a second term after that, even though I ran against him in 2007, when he won barely against Jimmy. I ran against Morgan and Craig Cates and Mike Mongo in 2009, when Craig won. So far, Craig has no opponent this time around.
I don’t know if you saw my
post today at goodmorningkeywest.com, the first half of which reports some of yesterday’s interview at your and Donna’s home. You should be able to get there by clicking on the title above Dr. Jung.
Todd German called me tonight, to say quite a few people asked about me at Hometown! PAC’s call to candidates this evening. I said I’d had a dream at dawn this morning, which I could only take as saying I was moving too fast and for me to skip that event.
In the dream, my last wife, with whom in dreams I associate politics/running for office, came to me. We were on bicycles, pedaling. I felt we were going too slow, something was slowing us down. I felt something was wrong, and tried to pedal faster, but could not go faster. I associate bicycles in dreams with Key West, where I tend to use a bicycle to get around. Last wife said she wanted me to rest today, to get me ready for tomorrow.
Instead of the call to candidates, I drove down to Key West and saw Man of Steel. I recommend it, very different from the other Superman movies. Lots of sci-fi and special effects. Lots of early life development of the ET who truly was a stranger in a strange land, and his coming into relationship with that.
I told Todd I need to start feeling better physically, to run for real. I live with a rough intestinal disorder which lays me low pretty often, and leaves me feeling miserable most of the time when I am not laid low.
I told Todd, once upon the time, when I was trekking the highlands in Nepal, alone, and was at risk and was seriously taxed physically, not having had any exercise in years because of the intestinal malaise, the angels lifted it off of me. I felt great until I was back in Kathmandu, when it returned. I told Todd, the angels’ problem is, they know that I know they can lift it off of me.
I said I also need improvement in my finances, to be able to move back into and live in Key West, and run for mayor again.
I said I easily was the best candidate, there was no runner up, in all three races I ran for mayor. I said Key West people like things messed up, they like the drama, they don’t want anyone who will fix anything. Todd pretty much agreed.
I said familiarity breeds contempt, and I spent a lot of time in Key West’s sewers, figuratively, perhaps also some literally, to care much for the city any longer. And, to care much for being nice about the sewers. I am not like other candidates. I don’t smile when there is nothing to smile about. I don’t spin something to make it look better, when it is terrible.
Todd is Chairman of Hometown! PAC. He was the first Chairman of the Citizen (Police) Review Board. He serves gratis on many boards and committees. He is Chair of the charter high school board in Key West. He gets around, runs with movers and shakers in KW.
He and I have been close friends since a candidate forum in 2003, when I ran out of things to say during my allotted time and recited some of the shorter poems which had gushed out of me back when I lived in Boulder, Colorado in the early 1990s, which I generally mentioned to you and Donna yesterday.
So, lots of ifs, ands and buts …
Vaclav Havel is someone I have admired and wished I could have met, and also Nelson Mandela. It still is my hope that some day I might be able to visit the Czeck Republic.
I said I would send you the poem that burst out of me one morning, June 7, 2004, to be exact, a part of which poem your poet friend Kirby in Key West critiqued, which part I told you I would highlight so you would know what he critiqued. It’s all down below.
My best to you and Donna, and I hope we can visit more in the future. I didn’t think I would ever tell a psychiatrist that. 
Sloan
“SHANGHAIED”
A calling to serve carries its own wisdom,
which legitimates both the calling and the serving
so that the two are one:
Only the one called to serve
can know this wisdom,
and for some who are called
the knowing comes easily,
while for others the knowing is a fiery baptism.
Each calling is different,
and while some callings can be declined,
others cannot,
and those whose calling is without repentance
know they are in it for the duration of the calling,
and while others may try to persuade them out of it,
the calling for ones such as these always prevails;
thus is it advised to all called without repentance
that they view their calling as a blessing
even when it seems at times to be a curse,
and that they try to reconcile the loss of their captain status
and allow the Spirit of God to man the helm of their ship,
and be glad and willing crew members thereon,
knowing that all sailing ships of souls
need a crew as well as a captain
to maintain and navigate the ship through
seas of many tones, depths and flavors;
so consider each league sailed
as part of the overall journey
going to where the captain deigns to go
by using whatever winds and sea currents available
to navigate the ship to the experiences
this ship and crew need to have
in order to fulfill their calling and its wisdom
revealed by the journey of many leagues,
many known only to the ship and its crew,
all of whom come to know,
some sooner than others,
that once conscripted
there is no safe jumping ship.
which legitimates both the calling and the serving
so that the two are one:
Only the one called to serve
can know this wisdom,
and for some who are called
the knowing comes easily,
while for others the knowing is a fiery baptism.
Each calling is different,
and while some callings can be declined,
others cannot,
and those whose calling is without repentance
know they are in it for the duration of the calling,
and while others may try to persuade them out of it,
the calling for ones such as these always prevails;
thus is it advised to all called without repentance
that they view their calling as a blessing
even when it seems at times to be a curse,
and that they try to reconcile the loss of their captain status
and allow the Spirit of God to man the helm of their ship,
and be glad and willing crew members thereon,
knowing that all sailing ships of souls
need a crew as well as a captain
to maintain and navigate the ship through
seas of many tones, depths and flavors;
so consider each league sailed
as part of the overall journey
going to where the captain deigns to go
by using whatever winds and sea currents available
to navigate the ship to the experiences
this ship and crew need to have
in order to fulfill their calling and its wisdom
revealed by the journey of many leagues,
many known only to the ship and its crew,
all of whom come to know,
some sooner than others,
that once conscripted
there is no safe jumping ship.
Kirby didn’t like “without repentance”; as I recall, he said it was too religious, or too Puritan, or something. Without repentance means: you can’t get out of it, it’s for keeps.
Meaning, I don’t think the fat lady necessarily sang yet about my moving down to Key West and running for mayor again.
S
Jerry and Donna replied:
Sloan: just wrote you a complicated but good reply and it accidentally got wiped out. When I mentioned beautiful I meant your description of our visit together accurate and left a “feel good” residual. Understand pragmatically—the $ involved in a move back—-a real tough consideration. I think the poem has a flow –like a river —and I am partial to rivers—repentance a boulder makes the reader pause and think—-many synonyms–not necessarily religious —depends on the reader.
Enjoyed your replies and visit —-hope your GI problems get better—all our best—-Jerry and Donna
I replied:
The G.I. disorder is karma, out of my hands. I tried every method known to humanity to get rid of it. Usually, it reacted to the method currently being tried and made me feel worse. That’s how I finally realized it was spirit-based, that’s how I finally came to stop trying to get rid of or even treat it. Finally, early 2010, my angel handlers told me it was karma, and what I had done to deserve it. I had no defense, no counter argument. It does present a Catch 22, though. The angels want me in politics, but the karma makes a joke out of my prospects of serving any office to which I might be elected. So, I run, knowing it’s a joke; knowing I’m just stirring the pot. Seven times I have done that in the Keys. I see no point in doing it again. Either I run to win, and to serve if elected, or give me something else to do in keeping with my capability.
—————————————
That wee bump in the road aside, received similar encouragement yesterday from Nashville J and old amiga Stacy currently living in a Key West homeless shelter with her son.
And this from a Key West poet and artist:
Mad Jack says ‘insanity’ is freedom from thought…’thinking’ is a malfunction of the mind…feeling is a weakness of the soul…Jung was ‘crazy’….!”
I replied:
feeling is part of being human, lots of bars in Key West where feelings can be washed out
Also yesterday, from another era in Key West:
Wonder if you remember me?
I was there in the summer of 2005 I think? Its all a blur.
I was the kid you met staying at the International Youth Hostle. Was on the run for counterfeiting, etc…
We had some good talks. I wound up flying back to Utah to face charges, yadda yadda. Anyways, Ive long since got that all behind me, been off parole for years.
I was thinking of you the other day and googled you. As you know, ALOT came up, mainly about the thing with your brother, but it led me to your blog. Damn, you always were an interesting old guy.
Im working and saving money and am seriously considering coming back down there, this time with a few grand of real money and a clean slate (as clean as its gonna get)
I would like to reconnect with you. Whether you know it or not you were a great help to me then, and I really like and respect you, though we didnt always agree.
Hit me back.
-George
PS Save the nudie pics for your old lady! LOL
I replied:
Hi, George – I confess, I have had brain cells perish over the years, probably need more stories/details to joggle remaining brain cells. I lived a few months in the youth hostel in the spring of 2003, until somebody complained and the city stopped letting them rent rooms by the month to locals. I drew some pretty racy drawings, mostly female variations, during that time, with pencil, pen and ink, Crayloa watercolors, in a drawing tablet. Are those the photos you have in mind in your P.S.? I don’t see any photos, racy or not, other than your “mug shot” in the attachment to your email. I recall talking with a fellow, perhaps it was you, who was very convinced what he ate, and didn’t eat, was his ticket into paradise. He was running with a friend, who was even louder about it, and I told him he reminded me of born again Christian evangelists in the way he preached food, which didn’t seem to make his day, or week. I told the first fellow a story on the little pier at Higgs Beach about a yogi meditating, and two cobras, one white, one back, came to him. Ring any bells? I don’t recall staying at the youth hostel in 2005, maybe some in early 2004, but not long. Sloan
George wrote:
It was 04, and no Im not the holy food eater.
I was referring to the pic at the end of your blog with some old guy (that may or may not be you) covering his craw with a hat.
not me
Right before I left KW I had got ahold of some PCP that was billed as mdma, and I saw the devil again and freaked out pretty bad. That was when I got the flight back.
You will know me when you see me.
Whats it like down there now? I have a little chihuahua whom I love, but I know bringing her might be a huge liability in finding a spot to stay.
What do you think I should know before (if) I come?
I managed to find TWO decent jobs when I was down there before with nothing but fake ID. So Im hoping the shops and bars still have alot of turnover and I could find something. I wont have alot of money.
What do you think?
George wrote:
We exchanged a few e-mails after I was back in UT. The last I had heard from you you were living in a tent in a marsh and had suffered a bad spider bite on your ass or something. Then your email was SloanBashinsky@yahoo.com
But yes, out talks were spiritual in nature. Im a christian believer, as I hope you are still too.
George wrote:
Back then the first Iraq war was kicking off, and I was extremely naive as to the corruption of the govt. You tried to tell me, but I was patriotic in a stupid way, not in a true way, and I believed Bush and thought it was a good thing. We disagreed on politics, and now at the age of 40, I clearly see that you were right.
You used to say some stuff – I dont remember exactly what it was – that i disagreed with theologically, about the garden of Eden, but since I cant remember what it was, it wont serve as a memory help. You gave me one of those psychadelic drawings you were doing then. I hope I still have it somewhere, and there was a parable you wrote on the back. And you were convinced that God HAD to go all the way to Utah to find a believer, and had drawn me all the way there cuz noone else was worthy. I still disagree with that. LOL. You seemed to think pretty highly of me. More so than I did myself.
I met up with the guy that had the falophel stand down at Mallory square. I camped in his back yard and scarcely survived.
Anything?
George wrote:
What about the time at the Green Parrot where I would find you in the afternoon for a beer, and there was some homely looking 20 something from Belgium or something that was flirting with me, and you moved in on her! Fucker
I replied:
I remember something about telling someone to go back to Utah and work for God there. A few thousand dollars probably won’t go far in Key West, unless you have a good job skill in high demand, which will enable you to pay KW rents; but, you could stay at the free overnight homeless shelter on Stock Island, they call it KOTs. Not recommended, however.
Don’t remember a Belgium beauty, remember a young shapely lady from the Czeck Republic. My recollection, I moved in on her because I didn’t think you had her best interests at heart, and maybe she was a bit over the booze limit for her own good. I have no interest in young women. You might not like me any better now, but I can’t drink now, so not likely you will run into me in the Green Parrot.
George wrote:
Thanks for the advice.
I hope its all good with you.
Peace
George wrote:
Its too infernally hot down there anyway. And too many niggers.
I may go to CO or WA where they have legalized Gods herb. How benevolent of them. pptthh
But the herb will save me drinking myself to death.
I replied:
The “niggers” remark doesn’t sound to me like you made any progress with God since you say we last spoke. Also other indications in that direction in what you wrote.
George wrote:
Yeah Im bitter.
But I dont reckon your in the spot to judge.
George wrote:
And I understand your need to be politically correct.
George wrote:
Look Im sorry. I seem to alienate and piss people off instantly anymore. Was not my intention. I got what I ask you for. Good luck in all your ambitions.
Goodbye now
I replied:
Sounds like you have an addiction problem, too. Maybe you ask God to help you, maybe you ask God to get you off booze, marijuana, and take you through the 12 Steps, which is very different, in my experience, than taking yourself though them.
The “spider bite” on my ass was MRSA. It was about the size and look of the MRSA on that person’s shoulder. I had two smaller MRSA abscesses on either side of the base of my penis. It was TERRIFYING! That was in 2003, around the time I had emergency surgery and was forced to move into Florida Keys Outreach Coalition’s entry shelter on Patterson Avenue in Key West. Shortly thereafter, FKOC’s CEO Father Steve Braddock and City Planning Commissioner Bill Verge asked me to run for mayor. I had no money. They gave me enough money to pay the filing fee.
FKOC required all its residents to attend 12 Step meetings. That’s when God applied the 12 Steps to me. Not because I was a booze addict. I never got that far with the booze narcotic, always could walk away from it for long periods of time, years even, with no problem. Yes, God wanted to show me to stop drinking. Easy, I ran out of money, couldn’t afford beer, and drinking the booze narcotic, and taking any narcotic, was forbidden at FKOC. Also, God wanted me to see the 12 Steps were a bona fide spiritual discipline. No fun. Lot’s tougher than believing in Jesus and attending church, about as tough as living as Jesus said to live.
I can’t drink the booze narcotic today, because my angel handlers told me to stop drinking it, and because I learned whenever I had a beer, or two, about an hour or two later, I felt poisoned.
Hilarious, George accusing me of having to be politically correct. I detest politically correct, view it as a terminal spiritual addiction. So is addiction to racism, chemicals, crusades, whatever …
Doesn’t look to me like being a Christian believer has helped George. Maybe he should get to know my angel handlers: Jesus, Archangel Michael, Melchizedek-Magdalene. Maybe that would make a difference. Maybe I should not wish that mean-spirited hurtful thing on anyone.
Sloan Bashinsky
keysmyhome@hotmail.com