April 24 2010 there was a Boy Scout display in the parking lot North of Mickey Ds and by the Imagination Station. Tony was fascinated by many of the displays. The Sheriff’s Office was well represented with several displays. Tony got to climb up on the rescue boat, the one we see going by our house frequently in the summer to fish someone out of the river. The two Sheriff’s Office Deputies in charge of the boat were really good with the kids. About 15 minutes later Tony bent over the bow of the boat, I was on the good ole solid ground, and said to me, “These guys are really COOL grandpa.” I said, “yup, they are.” and looked over at one of guys. I ask, “Did you hear that?” With a big grin he said, “I sure did.” He had a big grin on his face for a while. Tony debarked and headed to new territory. I have to have speedy shoes on to keep up some days. I wish I could find a pair of those.

Later we were at a different car on display. The people there were young intern or trainee types wearing the Sheriff’’s Office shirt and hardware. Tony had bailed out of the armored car where he had been playing for 20 minutes and was standing next to me watching the young group yucking it up. They were loud and horsing around some… with out the horse. All of a sudden he got a scowl on his face and said in a rather loud voice, “Grandpa, those are NOT real cops. Why are they wearing uniforms? They should not do that.” Well that was hard to explain and I was hoping “they” did not hear what he said. We left rapidly.

I guess he thought they were not acting the way officers should act. At least not like the COOL guys at the boat. I suppose that comes from trying to instill respect in the uniform of peace officers. The lesson is one each of us needs to remember. If we say we are (fill in the blank) then we had better act the part or we can lead an impressionable young mind astray. So lets be COOL.

That’s my story and I am sticking to it.

Crane flies in my whiskey
In my good old mountain dew
Every time I take a sip
I swallow quite a few

Now I'm not complainin
About the ones that take a dip
Cos it means that I don't have to cook
Cos with every sip I take I eat a little bit

Problem is those skinny legs
A sticking in my throat
I really should stop camping
And seek a new life on my boat

Now look, I'm I'm not complainin
Cos they taste really great
But if I really had a choice
I'd choose a ribeye steak

You call me a friend, as you pull out a knife you stab me in the back.
Not once but twice, friends for life but that's a straight up lie
you don't have a clue about ride or die.
Every couple months you brought somebody new into our group
But at the end it was always me and you.
Asked for my forgiveness when you sinned. Had me questioning like who am I?
But once to many times
I said,... "don't worry its fine."
Who would had thought you were plotting behind mine.
Took the dirt from where you digged out my grave to throw on my name.
You said it and you meant it till death do us part.
You wanted to steer and me not be there for the ride. You wanted the name and everything that came You were my partner in crime,
who you let blind your eyes. You didn't see my vision. Et tu, Brute? You betrayed me like Brutus
did to Julius.
Like judas did to jesus.
You kissed me on the cheek for several gold pieces.
Tell me if
You don't get the anomaly of my metaphor. If this was juice I'm Raheem and your Bishop. Is crazy how much I actually miss you.
All those new people and I'm the only one wishing you. ..... well wherever you are..... whethere is heaven or hell.
What you did was betrayal
and in my grave you buried yourself.
Til death do us part you said it and you meant it.
But here I stand
Hennessy on hand
With the same gun that held the bullets in your lungs.
This was a friend of mine
Till death do us part
In heaven or hell I'll be your ride or die... bang

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Is it love or is it pitty?
Or do you see the lion in me.
The king of these concrete jungle
Running through the city like jumanji

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Do you see a good son in me?
Or a money hungry boy that's selfish and greedy.
Am i done growing up?
Because I stand 5'7
while my pride reached heaven
Tell me is there Greek in my blood
Am i a decedent of Plato.  
Philosophy like Aristotle.

Tell me What you see when you look at me?
Am I the raven?
Am I 22 in my winter stages.
I must be definition of sadness and sorrow.
No more greater damage than the mental.

Tell me What you see when you look at me?
An intelligent mind with a kind heart.
But love and care is a weakness
When everyone else is selfish.
Shedding tears at your grave was my biggest mistake.
Kind heart weren't you,
Good kid weren't you,
Everything everyone wish they had but nobody really wanted you.

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Do you approve of the new me?
Tell me What you see when you look at me?
As I stood in front of the mirror and wrote this I saw the corpse of the old me.
Isn't that what you see when you look at me.
Just tell me......

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.

I liken our young teenage writers here to rose buds
Then visualize those rose buds in full bloom