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Had so much fun living what ended up being most of yesterday’s Mary Poppins continues her adult ed no fig leaves in paradise poetry studies in Key West post at www.goodmorningkeywest.com,
that I liked to have died later yesterday and last night, and am about the same now. Did I ever tell you that nearly every day I tell the angels they can take this job and shove it? Why church people sing they want to be nearer to thee, my Lord, causes me to wonder if they have lost their minds? Well, moaning about it never changed anything, so I move to happy thoughts, since my dreams before I finally woke up late the second day in a row were all about being positive and sweet and glad to have such fun work to do.
A few days ago, a dear Republican friend,
somewhat my senior, who no longer lives in the Keys, notified me about his finding what he hopes is new love, and I wrote back that I was so glad for him (even though he is a Republican). Here are our emails, without the love story:
This is FYI, not for your blog. Good luck in November.
The primary is August 26 – are you prophesying I will survive the primary and be in the November 3 election? Now if you are, or if it turns out you accurately prophesied, that might end up in my blog :-).
Please let me know the result since I don’t get the Citizen any more. And good luck.
He wrote that before I made chopped liver of the Republican and the Democratic and all political parties in yesterday’s Mary Poppins continues her adult ed no fig leaves in paradise poetry studies in Key West post.
I stumbled into this happy fossil in my Facebook account yesterday – the comments all were made yesterday.
Nick Anderson lives on Big Coppit Key, about 10 miles above Key West. Samuel Bogdanove is a most interesting fellow I met in massage school in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 1986, when he was a little less than half my age. Kelly Aland and her husband lived in the apartment below me, when I lived in Birmingham in 1988. Todd German lives on Cudjoe and Summerland Keys, above Big Coppit. Mick Foster is a retired south Florida school teacher amgio who got married to an old girlfriend who came back into his life decades later, and at whose home on Big Pine the lovely BBQ reception was held. Great food, great music, great company, including two buck key deer, local pets who liked being petted and fed carrots and lettuce (and corn and cucumbers and tomatoes and just about anything, probably). The older buck looked several hundred years old, maybe should have been named Methuselah. Bet he made lots of bambis in his day.
Nick Anderson also wrote this to me yesterday:
I was recently in the Miami VA Hospital (collapsed lung) (6 weeks for treatment) and I was not allowed to leave until I was able to prove I had a Home and community support.
And the care was great and the bill was less than $600. and I’m suppose to go back and get new eyes!!! this summer. The winter is jammed up with all the snow birds who come down to spend the winter, and have nothing to do but go to the Doc’s. but I was happy with the care I received.
Your Recluctant Vet, (I was Drafted, Remember)
Nick told me, when he told the draft folks that he didn’t care to be drafted, they gave him two choices: be drafted and sent to Vietnam, or fix radios. Wisely, Nick chose fixing radios. That led eventually to him learning how to work on and fix radars, which led to him doing that as a civilian contractor at Naval Air Station Key West, from which employment he recently was “retired” in exchange for his promise to never again blow the whistle on anything he knew was going on there. You would croak to hear one story he told me. Thanks to oil up in them thar North Dakota hills, Nick and his family probably ain’t gonna need any financial help from Uncle Sam in the next million years.
I wish the draft folks had given a choice to my dear friend Patrick, from whom I got yet another lesson in humility playing chess last night. Patrick once told me, when he told the draft folks he didn’t want to go to Vietnam, they put him in prison for three years. I figured he should have been pardoned and given a Silver Star, at least, and given full veteran benefits. Patrick is totally disabled and relies on Social Security and cheap Housing Authority rental housing and whatever other free help he can get. Recently, Patrick had his second free cataract surgery – how it went still unknown. The first cataract surgery a few years ago went okay. But for the Housing Authority, Patrick would be homeless. No, he would be dead. Battleshock comes in many forms. Imagine how you would have ended up, if you had been put into prison for 3 years because you didn’t want to fight in Vietnam.
I told Patrick last night that I needed humiliating, to pay me back for all the politicians and religious people I’ve been beating up lately.
Well, I suppose there’s no getting around it.
My Baptist father’s Baptist father came to me in a dream last night, asking me to run a route for the company he once bought, which my father ended up buying and running; even as a woman in the dream said she hoped I would take the job, and I said I wasn’t ready to commit. On waking, I figured the dream was about Linkedin having invited me to join an Assemblies of God group the other day. Figuring that wasn’t my own bright idea, but was the angels sneaking around behind the scenes, I joined and commented into two discussions already in progress, and opened a new discussion in which I, so far, am the only participant – can’t imagine why :-). Perhaps the discussion I opened segues from the life-changing poetry I recited at Sunday night’s Key West Poetry Guild meeting, as reported in yesterday’s Mary Poppins continues her adult ed no fig leaves in paradise poetry studies in Key West post. Poetry, which preceded the killer dark night described in this below. Poetry, which caused me to hope, even believe, I had arrived, but only had just begun.
Shanghaied by God
AGREE or DISAGREE? “If this is going to be a Christian nation ….. admit that we just don’t want to do it.”http://wp.me/p4kz4H-l3
AGREE or DISAGREE? “If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy..
The Declaration of Independence contains 5, as I recall, references to a Deity by different names, which do not seem Biblical to me. The author of the Declaration, Thomas Jefferson, not only was not Christian, he did not like Christianity and successfully led the charge in Virginia to prevent Christians from including in that state’s Constitution that it was a Christian state. I imagine Native Americans didn’t end up feeling like they had been been done to by American settlers and US Government soldiers the way those settlers and soldiers wanted done to them. I don’t imagine American slaves felt any different from Native Americans. It’s one thing to claim to be a Christian nation, or to claim to be a Christian, it’s something else altogether to live as Jesus lived and told his disciples and other people to live. Do unto others didn’t pass muster in Colonial times and later for whites’ treatment of Native Americans and African slaves.
My experience in trials, of which there have been many, often very rough and worse, and in my observation of other people in trials, faith is really important, but just as important is living Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels and following his model. As he said, if a man hears my sayings and does them, he is like the wise man who built his house on a rock and when the rock came, the house stood fast; but a man who hears my sayings and does not do them is like the foolish man who built his house on sand and when the flood came the house fell down and the fall was great. Teachings like: resist not one who does evil, turn the other cheek, pray for and do good to those who persecute you, first take the beam out of your own eye, judge not and you will not be judged, if a man takes your goods ask not for them back, if a man takes you to court settle along the way else the judge throw you in jail, if a man asks for your shirt offer him also your coat, if a man asks you to go a mile with him go more miles with him, take no thought for tomorrow because each day has enough trouble of its own, you cannot serve two masters: you cannot worship God and mammon.
To be perfectly blunt,
it’s a bit of a stretch for me to dabble in Key West and Florida Keys politics after surviving being shanghaied by God’s angels. Going into politics felt like being demoted back into kindergarten from a PhD program. It was given to me to take on, though, so I went with it because I knew who had decided I was to do it. I suppose my soul agreed to it, but without asking how I felt. I detest politics, have written so many times, and that anyone who actually wants to be elected to public office is insane, an ego maniac, or a crook – or any and all combinations thereof.
I’d much rather be eating a BBQ sandwich at a friend’s wedding, or riding on a biker chick’s bitch seat hanging onto her boobs, or getting drunk, which I can’t do any more because just one beer, mixed drink or glass of wine makes me feel awful about an hour after I have it. Marijuana gives me a migraine the next day, so that’s out. I never did the other narcotics and figure that would only be a giant train wreck to experiment with now. I never smoked a cigarette. I did get to know about 30 women in the Bible sense, some a lot better than others. I came to know heartbreak and wanting to die because of it. Except for an afternooner with a biker chick in 2010, I’ve been a monk since early 2005. My daughters rightly concluded their father is nuts and best avoided. If I didn’t have a bunch of amigos and amigas to chew the fat and cut up with about all sorts of stuff, and endless lines of politicians and religious people to poke, I’d have no reason to want to be on this planet. I bet I’m gonna be tons of laughs at the upcoming candidate forums. Ciao maim.
Political advertisement paid for and approved by Sloan Bashinsky, for Mayor of Key West, aka “southernmost the nut house”