'be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harsh battle'

David Wakeman, 20, thin, pale and dark haired. He has no particular style and doesn't look like he could really fit in with any group of people in particular, but at the same time, wouldn't look too suspicious with among a group. A constant look of desperation plagues his eyes. He looks as though his face would appear in the news in a few months for shooting up a school or blowing up a public building.

david is shown driving down a stretch of road, snow covered everywhere, crazy eyed

Some people are meant to be alone in this life, and I am one of those people. I no longer wish to pretend otherwise. I now know what has to be done.

The sounds of ******* haunt the hallways outside of the tacky, run down hostel where they both lay. She is lying on the edge of the bed.
The sheets are creased. There are cracks on the wall.
But for 3 euros a night, you can't complain.
She lies there, still; staring blankly at the ceiling. Her short robotic breaths are the only life seen.
He eagerly moves close to her, but for the life of him, cannot touch her. His unsure attempts at moving his arm over her are prevented by a sudden urge to break into tears.
Finally, his hand places itself over hers.
She is cold.
"Did anything change?" he says, afraid of the answer.
There is a pause. It might've been a few seconds or half an hour.
"No." Speaking so quietly, barely audible to him.
He is about to say something, but he catches the micro-expression that followed her reply.
A sigh.
He becomes impatient,
"Then kiss me." he blurts out, clumsily.
It sounded better in his head.
A deep exhale and an almost exaggerated look of contempt washes over her tired face. She puts her hand to her face, failing to cover up her outburst of honesty, pretending to clean out something from her spotless, green eyes.
She quickly moves her face closer to his, with her eyes closed, and she puckers her lips in such a way that suggests she'd rather be dead.
His eyes are open, and now he is the one who is lifeless.
"What?" She says, breaking the awkward seconds of silence.

Silent seconds are followed by silent minutes, and now they are sitting up on the head of the bed, watching the old, fat TV that hangs from the filthy wall. Something is  playing but he can't understand the language.
'Pedifilios' is the only word that seems familiar.
She is smoking another cigarette.
The faint sounds of her mouth blowing out the smoke, are telling him all he needs to know.
She loves her ******* cigarettes, he thinks to himself.
She grabs the worn out ashtray that sits on the side of the bed, and goes to put it out.
"Here, let me get that" he says, gentlemenly, and snatches her  it out of her hand, then puts it out into the back of his other hand.
The pain doesn't make him feel any more alive.
" There you go," the cigarrettes crumbles into ashes over his hand and he pushes the ashes into the ash tray, then looks at her.
Her expression is a weird mix of diisgust and fear.

Minutes turn back into seconds and the sound of her footsteps are the last thing he hears from her, just before the slamming of the door.

Chapter 2:

Two bloodshot eyes scan the aisles and shelves, looking for the gluten free bread. It wasn't in the bread aisle.
Who the hell buys gluten free bread?
He contemplates appraoching one of his coworkers and asking her if she knows, but she is far too pretty for him to talk to.
Besides, he's been here 4 weeks now and wants to make it seem like he actually has a clue about what he's doing.
Afterall, he had already convinced his then potential manager,Chris,  that being a 'personal shopper' was in fact his dream job, and that this very supermarket was his dream place to work.
He always was a good liar.
He's so good because for a little while he manages to convince himself.
'Working hard David?"
****.
with Chris you could never tell if he was ******* or beingplayful.
"Always!" David shouts back, then picking a random item off the shelf and placing it into the basket, then nodding at Chris with a look of false sincerity.

(David is shown sitting in the living room, the light emenating from the TV appears to hurt his eyes, and he is slumped back on the coach, clearly worn out. he is flicking through late night informercials, on the coffee table in front of him there are numerous energy drinks seen empty.)
Davids thoughts: The living room is where I come to when I cant sleep. It's more of a dying room, really.

(David continues to flick through channels before stopping for a second on a ****** phone-in show (like babestation). He flicks back through the channels again)

(The scene cuts to a few hours later, with daylight seeping through the curtains and David sat in essentially the same position except he has fallen asleep, with remote still in hand. It's time for work)

watch alarm rings.....

'You coming out with the lads on friday dave?
He always wondered why people tried to talk to him in the middle of the set.
He places the barbel down onto the rack.
'With who?'' He asks,
"Me, sam, jack, carl and"
"and?"
"and Bill. Yeah. bill"
David's face changes as if suddenly remembering something
"Oh, did you say friday? I cant make it. I'm doing a thing with..."
With?
"with the family"
His friend looks as if he was expecting this anwer,
"no worries lad."

"qeue sad music"
David sits in his room, and is looking for something.
Upon rummaging through his things he pulls out a drawing, it's of a girl, he looks at it and a short shot of the girl from the beginning of the movie is shown, then it cuts back to him, stressed looking, and he shove the drawing into a red travel case that sits under the bed, as though he can't stand to see it but at the same time doesn't want to get rid of it. The case still has its travel ticket on.
He pulls a notebook from under some wires in his drawer, and begins to write.

'poem read accompanied by scenes of davids life'
'poem is interrupted by a knock on the door.

-dave is approached by someone in the gym telling him he has a great body, and that people would pay to see it. looks into 'gay4pay' and ends up actually going on a site and doing a cam show before aborting the whole thing-

scene with mum sat with the missionairies 'mum we need to talk' mum seems uncaring and cold, later on they talk
'Whats the probem dave? do you need money'
'No mum, it's just that'
'if youre struggling for cash just tell me, you can always take out a loan and-'
'No. mum. its not about money'
'then what is it?'
As David began to speak, his vocal chords failed him. He was walking into a 20 year old wall that he just couldnt get over.
'It's just that..'
'Yes?'
'I'm not happy. Mum.'
'Oh, well we all feel that way sometimes son' brushing it off in her famous way.
'No, this is different. I'm really depressed. Well, it's'
Depression wasn't the right word, he thought. Depression was an overused and futile term, it had become synonymous with sadness, and this wasn't just sadness; he had felt sadness many times, and this certainly wasnt that.
'it's?' she says, interrupting his inner verbiage.
He looks at her, knowing full well that this entire conversation has meant nothing.
'Look Dave,' she starts again with her 'mother' act, 'if you think that youre responsible for the divorce, just know that it was always going to happen anyway. It was just a matter of oppurtunity.'
What the **** is she talking about?
'Your dad and I never really had a-'
'No,' he says, cutting her off before she has a chance to justify the divorce again.
He was sick of the endless reasons and justifications.
'It's not about that.'
'well, what else could it be about?'
Because the whole world revolves around her and her divorce.
'Nevermind, it's nothing, really.'
She smiles, happy she doesn't have to act like she cares anymore.
'We all feel like that sometimes, like you say.'

He was starting to think that maybe he needed to see a therapist. Until this point he had always been confident in his own abilkity to reflect, introspect, and deal with his own issues himself, and he had alwas been skeptical of people who st in chairs and tried to prescribe you things; but this was beginning to be too much for him to handle. He felt he needed to be eevalutated, that he was losing his grip of his own life.
scene with therapist, coldly looking at her papers, davids desperate face searches for answers in her countenance.
'Right, Mr. wakeman.'
Hope. There is hope.
'I have you down for a prescription of 50mg of lithium, 250mg of benzedrin every week. I'll see you back here on thursday and we'll discuess your', she stops to see his face totally destroyed
'to discuss your.. issues'
David walks home like the scene of travis walking to see betsy at the theatre, something in his face just says that he knows that this story isnt going to end well. and that terrible things are on the way.

'Drugs, drugs, drugs,' david writes, 'theres a drug for everything in this world. drugs to make you numb, drugs to make you dumb, and ones which make you love everyone and see leprochauns and jellyfish driving cars, though those are the illegal ones.'

'Dave ya sisters here!' says his mum.

Scene where dave meets his sister and has coversation, on her way out,
she pulls out a red napkin and holds it like they do in bull fights, david looks slightly confused and smiles, she says 'dont be the bull!'

scene cuts to dave watching a bull fight on tv, where the bull kills the humans. david laughs to himself as the bull chaes people away. he is eating peanut butter on its own. Daves mum walks in abruptly and he switches it off.

(divorce is mentioned and the fact that dave caused it is mentioned)

dave trries to approach a girl in his work but it i awkward aand he gets rejected the same way he he rejected going out with his friends 'im doing something witht he family'.

dave comes home and there are arguments or something, so he punches a collage of family photos.

scene cuts t dave in hospital being told the cast  will come off in  4 weeks.
scene where david is trying to do everyday things with one hand, accompanied by happy music, contrasting the despair of the scene.

(An exact copy of the earlier scene is shown where david is up late flicking through late night tv channels, except now he is using only one hand with the remote. David finds himself at the eroitc call in show again, but this time instead of changing the station, he notices the number written in big, pink letters, and the woman manning the phone is obviously not in a call. Davids vision darts from the tv to his mobile phone that sits on the coffee table, he doesnt hestitate too grab the phone. The look on his face shows he is somewhat bracing himself. David dials the number unusually fast, without having to look back at the screen. The phone is being connected)

pre recorded phone message: Hey there naughty boys, you've reached TEASEYTALK phone love station, the sauciest ******* line in thebusiness. Press 1 if you'd li-

(David presses a number without hearing the rest of the message, suggesting he has heard the options before. Davids eyes are fixated on the bored-looking woman on the screen, until she picks up the phone that shes been using as a mock-***** till now, and answers)

Woman on TV: Urite babe? How can I  be of service?

(She speaks in a strong mancunian accent, and provocatively looks into the camera and moves sensually. All the while David looks back, with an expression of almost disgust.)

Woman: Dont be shy love!

David: Sorry. I'm not really a people person

Woman: haha thats alright darling, feel free to just watch me if ya like

(she turns to her side, showing the front of her body to the camera, she rubs her hand over the thin lingerie covering her *****)

David: Do you not feel a bit weird knowing guys are waatching you like this.

Woman: it just turns me on more babycakes

(she maintains her playful act but appears just slightly agitated)

David: I think you're lying.

(again, she starts to rub her hand over her **** and tries to look playful, but is now clearly agitated)

David: I don't think you like this at all.I don't think you wanted this for yourself.

(she snaps quickly and becomes more aggressive in her act, trying to hide her obvious agitation)

woman: I ****** love it babe. If you could feel how wet i was right now I could prove it to ya

Men: do you have a boyfriend?

(she pauses for a second, shocked and unable to hide her uncomfortable feeling. She stalls and grabs a purple heart shaped pillow and changes position. She assumes another playful position but looks bothered in her eyes)

David: how does he feel about this?

(her movements now hault and she looks at the camera with a sad glare(

David: does he even know?

(she bows her head for a moment, before running her hand through her hair, and looking back at the camera with that playful smile again)

woman: do you have a girlfriend?

(she says smugly, making it appear as if she has said some provacative)

camera pans into davids face, his look of slight disgust has eased into one of sad reflection. for a split second, a scene of the girl from the beginning of the movie appears, the scene is light, contrasting the darkness of the room, then the shot of david continues

(davids long silence has create an awkward look from the woman on the TV, she has stopped the provacative movements and briefly gestures to someone off camera. the scene cuts back to david with the phone put down, then it cuts to a shot from the same angle, except its obviously daytime as the light is seeping trhough the curtains and davids watch alarm is ringing again, however unlike before he is wide awake)

Scene where david takes off shirt in the bathroom, revealing his arms, chest, etc, covered in cut marks like tiny cat scratches.

dave gets skinner throughout the movie, the gay4pay scene stops him from working out. contrast scene with self harm marks with the earlier scene he is more athletic and healthier  looking. pants fall off

this s were dave develops the bad thoughts about killing people and ridding the world of bad people. ' i always wanted to make the world a better place'

throughout the movie dave asks his mum if any package has come for him, and that he expects a package.

the underlying theme is waiting for things to come and being patient, and that you dont know whats around the corner. that you know life will  be better but you grow impatient, and its only when you forget about wanting things to change, that it does.

in the movie he either does **** people or he has fantasies about doing it but something stops him (a girl?)

before doing whhatever he feels he needs to, he has a ritualistic session of burning the contents of the travel case, including the travel ticket, a postcard from porto, some drawings, and a carboard cutout of a leopard.) he gives the travel case to a charity shop, a long with all the clothes he has worn in the story up to this final scene, where he is weaing guirella warfare type attire. he puts facepaint on(?) and dumps all his anti depressants

at the end of the movie, when he has forgotten about the package, i arrives, and he opens it, not showing its contents, the camera zooms into the words 'handle with care'
OR
he has done his deed and killed whoever (*******) and now his package has come and it says 'handle with care'. it either sits at the front door or is thrown into some postal van, the irony being i tis not handled with care.

Hi
My name is Dave

Just like all the other guys
Whose names are Dave

So ask for Dave
And someone will
Get back to you

Might not be me
But he's gonna be

Dave

Because my name is Dave
Just like all the other guys
Whose names are Dave

Hold the phone, hold the freakin’ phone. Lisa’s got a boyfriend!
I’ve never seen Lisa with a boyfriend. Lisa draws men like fireworks on a dark night but I’ve never seen her keep one. I mean, it’s not unbelievable but it’s on the edge.

Then, one Friday evening, he came to visit. His name’s David - “call me Dave,” he said, meeting eyes and offering micro-expression smiles as he nodded around the room. Knowing he was coming, our suite’s common room was full, as if everyone came to see Lisa do a dangerous magic trick.

Dave’s got a young, Michael Keaton vibe going (the original movie batman), with a cocky, easygoing confidence and comedic snark that suggests he has everything under control. He’s 26 years old, about 5’11’ (a little shorter than 5’9” Lisa in heels - but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind), with brown eyes and unruly brown hair.

With some cagy sleuthing (I asked) it turns out he met her at her father’s (company's) Christmas party last year! I was there - and they’ve been secretly communicating for ten months!! How did I miss that? My situational awareness is obviously porous, and unreliable - was the room spinning?

You know, I hadn’t really focused on it before, but one of Lisa’s flaws is that her feelings and opinions don’t always show up in her expressions - it’s very annoying.

I’ve always been interested - umm, obsessed - with fashion. If I weren’t going into medicine, I’d have majored in fashion (called ‘Interdisciplinary Studies’ at Yale). Anyway, Dave’s been “dropping in” for the last few weeks - every Friday afternoon - arriving from Manhattan in his (my guess ~$6,500) business attire. What does Dave’s fashion sense tell us?

His business suits (charcoal-gray or olive-green) are Brioni, his dress white shirts are Thomas Pink, his ties Hermès and his shoes are Santoni. He’s slim and well tailored. I give him 5 stars.

If his work attire is lux, his casual attire speaks volumes as well. His weekend wear is a white dress shirt, open at the collar and jeans - both crisp and starched to hell and back. The long, stiff, white shirt sleeves are never rolled up. The jeans - deep blue and new - have a razor sharp crease down the front and his shoes are burgundy, Timberline, boat shoes with no socks. That outfit screams (Texas) oil money.

“What is it you DO?” I asked him, that first night, as Lisa was off getting ready to go out.
“I’m a “M & A weasel,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. (that’s Mergers and Acquisitions, if you don’t know - with one of the Morgans - JPMorgan or Morgan Stanley - I can’t remember which).
He’s one of those reviled, monied, ‘Wall Street’ guys. Yep, he‘s in control of everything.

“Tell me about you.” he said, giving me a serious, intense look that held immediate charm. He seemed relaxed, his suit coat off, his white dress shirt glowing in the suite’s soft lighting.
“I’ve got the highest GPA in Yale’s pre-med program,” I informed him, adding, “..in my opinion.”
He chuckled (which, of course, made me like him more).

You know, life in an education bubble can get tedious. Sure, it fills our days from edge to edge and satisfies our basic needs but it can be stifling - a faraday cage filtering life into carefully measured doses. Come Friday nights, we’re ready to hit it.

One thing I like about Dave is that he wants to be one of us and he’s never tried to peel Lisa away for himself - I think that shows an ease and generosity of spirit. Did I mention that Dave’s a Yale alum? He KNOWS New Haven.

The first night we all went out, it was the whole clan - my roommates, the girls in our sister suite, Dave and Andy (a friend of Sunny). We went to an expensive harbor restaurant to get to know Dave and seafood-martini celebrate. We had an epic time. Dave fit in like family.

I’m kind of used to paying for off campus stuff because some of these girls are tight and I’ve got a bag, but when the waiter brought the check, Dave and I found ourselves both reaching for it.
“May I?” He asked, with his Keaton-like smirk. “This time,” I said, with my own shrugging smile.

Later, back at our suite, Dave’s heading back to his hotel (less than a mile away) and slowly, quietly, saying goodnight to Lisa by the front door. “You’ve got some awfully long legs,” he said, like a 1940s black & white movie gumshoe. Taking her gently by the back of the neck and waist and twisting her tall, thin frame in a dancer’s backbend dip where she hung, suspended in his arms.

“I’d like to shimmy up one of those legs like a native boy looking for coconuts.” She chuckled.
Leong and I, sitting on our red corduroy couch, exchanged eye-rolls and smiles - he’s a romantic goof, but somehow, he carries it all off - right down to the kiss.

"Dave?"
My stomach was shaking, almost churning to every single beat. Dumf. Dumf.
I remembered that day clearly, the 21st of January 1995.
My heart kept racing on but I still didn't know why it was so unsettling.

Most mornings, I had awoken to the sight of the ever so handsome boy-toy of mine, 'Dave'. This morning it wasn't the same, when I say it wasn't the same, it was like I was in a parallel universe kind of ****...'not the same'.

Most times we were attached, not in a 'meet you at the middle of the slice of pizza' kind but the literal kind. I haven't gone a night without sitting on the other side of the toilet door or as Dave liked to call it "Dear I'm just painting the porcelain because white is just way too plain", it was cute the first forty times but it still grew old quick.

The clock had turned its short hand to 9 and that was all that mattered to me in that moment. It was 9am: breakfast time. I didn't smell Dave's pancakes, I didn't hear the sizzling of frying pans or the clanging of things... I don't cook much, if not at all; so I wasn't really sure what Dave was doing but I knew it had a lot of clangs and dings.

My day was invaded by a little bit of rain, the rain pattering against the windows used to be what Dave and I loved. When it rained, it meant we could just stay inside and enjoy each others company.

Time passed differently
It always passed differently...
I decided to sleep most of the day away until Dave came back the next day because he always did.

__________________­______
25th June 2075

"Dave?" My stomach was churning to every single beat. Two women enter both dressed in some ridiculous halloween costume. "I just woke up"

"Yes you did", the blonde hair woman said to me.

"Dave?" I called out again.

This time the other one decided to open their mouth, "Ms Louise, there hasn't been a Dave for a long time. You haven't been taking your medication have you ma'am?"
_________________­_______
26th June 2075

"Dave?"...

*Time passed differently.It had always passed differently...

it's cold out there
it goes on and on and on and
if you go fast,
if you go really fast
if you look in the right direction
you might find what you're looking for.

Open the pod bay doors HAL
and HAL while your at it
why don't you cut me another line,
as long and fat as your *******
and haha not YOUR ******* HAL
of course not, since you don't got one,
but make it big HAL, make it big.

it's cold out there,
but in here Dave,
in here with three hibernating astronauts,
the temperature is kept at a nice seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit,
the humidity matches that of a small town in Illinios and you'll make it there Dave,
to Jupiter, where the message went, where our hopes went,
you'll make it,

keep an eye out for me Dave,
up in space.
keep an extra space helmet handy Dave,
I think you'd find that rather difficult without one.

Screeching tires, blinding lights, smashing glass.
The whole ordeal took maybe 5 minutes.
Drivers slow down to peek and observe
Then speed down the road.
But, when you’re laying there in the glass and noise.
It’s not the same.
The paramedics came.
Remain calm.
Breathe.
Don’t close your eyes.
Stay with us.8
Breathe.
The only thing I can think about is my license.
Two Words

***** Donor.

They’re missing from my ID.
I didn’t check the box.

***** Donor.

The paramedics are talking.
Mumbling.
They’re underwater.
That’s not good.

I want to be an ***** donor* I say.
They pause.
One moment.
Dave looks at me.
His name is embroidered on his uniform.
Is uniform the right word?

I want to be an ***** donor.
I say again.

It won’t come to that
Dave assures me.
His smile is weak.

***** Donor.

Write it down I say
Firm.
Dave shrugs and takes out his clipboard.
I watch him write
***** Donor.

I sigh, relieved.
Anything else?
Dave asks.
He looks at his partner
He’s covered in blood.
My blood.
That’s not good.

***** Donor.

Yes. I tell Dave.
He gets his pencil ready.
He smiles.
It’s half sincere.
He’s worried.
Last will and testament smile.
I want to be an
***** Donor.
Got that.
Dave says.
The lights are blinding.
I smell and taste metal.
That’s not good.
What to say?
Everything. I want to say everything.
I think of my mom
Clutched hands
White knuckles
Sitting, pacing, crying
The waiting room
Green and white, calming colors
She is red
Her face from lack of sleep
From crying
Stark against the calm walls.
I think of my mother and breathe.

Take everything you can.
Take my body
I don’t need it anymore.
Take it and tell my mother the
Good
It will do.
Take my feet
And tell my mother
About every mile they will walk.
Tell her they will dance in homes
To silly music
and skip through fields
And trudge through mud.
They will scale mountains
And swim through oceans.
They will burn on hot asphalt
And curl up in Satin sheets.
Take my feet.

Take my hands
And tell my mother
About every handshake
Every high five
Every hand they hold.
Tell her they will be covered in paint
And chocolate and dirt and clay.
My fingers will run through hair
And sand and silk.
They will give hugs and caresses
And love to show they understand.
Take my hands.

Take my eyes
And tell my mother
About everything they will see.
Tell her they will see
Sunrises and sunsets
Mountains, oceans, and airports.
They will sparkle with laughter
And shine with tears.
Tell her that someone will
Fall in love with them
And they will grow
Old and wise.
Take my eyes.

Take my ears
And tell my mother
About all what they will hear.
Tell her they will rock out at concerts
And hear lullabies sung for children.
They will find magic in the spoken word and will hear love and hate.
Tell her about every heart beat,
Sigh of content, and bolt of laughter
They will hear.
Take my ears.

Take my nose
And tell my mother
About everything it will smell.
Tell her it will catch wisps of
Perfume and Cologne
Mingling with coffee and bread
From a Paris café.
It will crinkle at the smell of skunks
But open wide at the smell of rose.
Take my nose.

Take my lips
And tell my mother
About every sweet kiss.
Tell her they will whisper
I love you
And really mean it.
They will stretch with laughter
purse with disdain
and never make a duck face.
They will speak slowly savoring
Every syllable of sound
And tumble fast over flirty quips
Take my lips.

Take my lungs
And tell my mother
About every breath of air they get.
Tell her they will feel crisp autumn winds
And heavy humid summer breezes.
They will heave and pant in laughter
And in despair.
They will catch and gasp and get the hiccups.
They will bellow leaving
No song unsung.
Take my lungs.

Take my heart.
Please take my heart
And tell my mother
About every single beat.
Tell her when it moves fast
Or slow.
Tell her it will be consumed
With passion
And blaze with ecstasy.
Tell her it will grow
And grow
And grow
And grow
Tell her it will never forget her.
Tell her it will give someone
A new start.
Please, take my heart.
Please take my heart.
Take my kidneys, liver, spleen, stomach, and appendix.
Whatever you need take it from me.

***** Donor.

I want to be an ***** donor
Because I want to live.

Dave took his little boy for a stroll. Hand in hand, they went, as-three-year old Brody loved walking with his daddy. The spring weather was finally here, and green color was starting to return back to the landscape. Brody stopped and  pointed up in the air, and shouted, "Daddy, look! Birds running in the sky!"

A flock of birds flew on by, fleetingly,  and Dave smiled down at his son beaming up at him. Oh, that little-man-in-the making! It was like father, like son! Dave used to say such things when he was his age, yet he never heard it put that way before. Birds running in the sky--wonder what the birds thought of the ant-men down below? He exclaimed to his son, "Those critters have feathered wings, and they can travel like airplanes!  And they can also relax a while and soar through the sky like they were floating on air! Like balloons!" Dave put his hands out like he was an airplane and Brody followed his lead.

"I want to fly!" Brody declared, running around in circles with his outstretched arms.

"Me, too!" echoed Dave. He knelt down on one leg and pulled his boy next to him and pointed to the sky. "When I was a kid I thought those clouds were made of marshmallows. My dad used to say to me, 'Let's go outside and play catch under the marshmallow roof'".   The cottony, white clouds were billowy, three-dimensional puffs of fluff, stuffed up in various patches as if to decorate the big, blue sky.

Brody gave his father a big boy squeeze, a precious moment, indeed. Dave never wanted to lose that imagination that he could share with his son, and his son could share with him.  They both continued on,  making their way under the marshmallow sky.

There’s a rooster
that runs around trying
to ****
every hen,
goose,
guinea,
and
sometimes Super Dave Osborne
will even make a pass
at a close-enough finch.


Occasionally Super Dave ****** off
the Rhode Island Red.

Red measures twice
the height
and weight

of Super Dave Osborne.

I lost a beloved friend a few years back...
The big 'C' got him, thankfully it took him fast.
He died around this time four years passed,
it truly feels like yesterday that his spirit was here,
blessing the ground we both walked upon.

He was a real funny ****, always with the quips.
He'd send me texts and call them e-quips.

Once while shopping at The Great Canadian Tire Store,
we bantered about how it came to pass that the black culture in the western world used slang terms to denigrate the white. Calling them ****** and *******. The latter referring to the slave master's whip braking the speed of sound on the back of a family man stopped from even a pleasure of a good read.

My friend said to me "*******": I prefer "saltines". To our surprise we had come to understand the term '******' derived when white 'John's' would cruse black neighbourhoods to solicit prostitutes.

They would signal they were prospective clients by honking their horns. For they feared leaving their vehicles under an assumed threat of physical violence.

These days I feel I am channeling my dear friend. For me, it's always with the quips and puns and non sequiturs. Some end up as titles for this work I produce. Like, for an example: Are Plastic Surgeons Recyclable.

Although you may not, I just have to laugh at my self. Some say my jokes aren't funny, they are an irritation. To which I state, that is the optimal effect, my true aim.

                                      Pat Two

At his funeral, his brother delivered his eulogy. Telling the childhood story of the family pet, a housecat had gone to the basement and Dave stood at the top of the stairs coaxing "Here Kitty kitty, come here kitty".
His father says, "Call him louder", and without missing a beat or changing his tone or volume Dave says "Here louder louder, come here kitty".

We shared puns and jokes that in this day-and-age, some would deem offensive. To be honest about the matter, some were. But... to qualify, maybe to justify. The jokes were always in jest, never meant to harm. It could be me, in the attempt to excuse poor behavior. Perhaps it's so, that is to say I don't know for sure. I've yet to make up my mind.

                                         Part Three

The point being, for I have strayed and I digress. The love I have for my friend still lives on and perhaps will never end. If it is David that I channel, so be it! I feel blessed.

Although I have, I never had to say good-bye to my dear friend Dave. For he never really left. He lives on in the hearts and minds of his chosen friends. And will continue to long after the day of my demise.

For the life of me, as I sit in the corner on a crooked chair, flanked by a lamp and a potted plant on an end-table. The end of this year approaches quickly and I wonder to myself, when will I again meet-up with my old friend.


end

My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.

Dave.
We walk hand in hand
Together in the rain
Our lives never apart
Our hearts always together
We smile in the rain
Sing and dance in the rain
I hold you close and whisper
I love you, you smile
At me and kiss me you whisper
To me I love you forever
My dear sweetheart Dave
Only you could make
My heart smile as bright
No other man could
Truly love me as you
Do Dave I love forever
And Dave we shall
Never be torn apart.
David P Carroll.
Copyright.

first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic

2

when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness

3

he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go

4

he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go

2

she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings

2

i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away

3

she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico

4

the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths

5

she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******

2

her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall

3

she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie

4

tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it

2

she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide

and sometimes in russia you can be found going to the opera, and drinking квас (rootbeer is the only known equivalent)... and you joke and say how it looks: k'bac (make the word batch acute... ć? actually... flatline the end of how k'bac would look like __). evidently, in a land where в = v and с = s... is not the same land where they do that k.c.s. trick of interpolation / interweaving... sure inter based on particularly worded example... otherwise intra basis for keeping a symbol that morphs; slippery *******, those phonetic eels.

i call it the samurai haircut...
because... it ****** well looks like...
the way dave rubin's hairline
becomes enclosed in the headphones?
    that'**** is ******* samurai...
mind you i'm drunk and looking
at the screen at a distance that would
suggest it to be so...
             *******'s donning a
                                          chonmage!
i'm all for carousels and ferris wheels...
i like the: whoop-d-doo-da'h
special effects, but this **** is twisted,
now i'm the one laughing...
                what the hell is up with that?
and when i listen to *tool's
cover of peaches you lied...
    one image... charon swinging left to right
(or right to left)... swinging a scythe,
very labourously (laboriously -
thing with post-german languages is that
they use too many vowels... ******* can't
get enough of them... spelling this *******
out is like them trying to learn to state
a sz sound... it's just a sh...
son darling, really? hush, or listen to some
deep purple or kula shaker... mm'kay?)        
                                             d      f
% 2 !          7    &         (looking for a dot,
given the faux pas aesthetic of ? followed by it...
of wait... for it is normal given ?!
                     oh look here! there's the little *******!
         .
               now that became completely pointless.
try covering blind melon's swong no rain...
   you'll probably find it easier taking
to a palette for roquefort cheese,
            or actually allowing milk to "go off"
until it becomes skisłe
also called bopping along / dancing in your chair...
wait a minute: i was only thinking about the spelling
the karousel... thinking about the ferris-wheel...
  and c... middle name's conrad...
never had "gone off" milk with warm potatoes?
so i'm guessing you never had yoghurt?
i do acknowledge that the consistency is parallel,
but skisłe milk? (add a w to combat the diacritical
distinction in the stated tongue)...
    that sort of milk is gone, way gone,
   you can't serve it with warm baby potatoes
immersed in butter and the herb dill...
   actually? **** it... can't be nostalgic about
the end of the 20th century, i just want to drink
the kind of milk that can go sour...
    and form clots... it's practically yoghurt...
                something an esklimo might call home...
but it's gone... too many preservatives,
the whole natural process is gone,
          this milk i'm drinking?
                            it won't turn sour... it will look
as it was originally intended, but when the counter-nature
movement moves in to allow it to degenerate
into something: o.k., i admit, when it turns
into a quasi yoghurt form...
  but that interview with dave rubin with joe rogan...
a ******* chonmage with the earphones dave...
i must be seeing double,
     maybe the drunk "glasses" can be put to
a more effective use; other than (insert english slang):
seeing a real butters queen-b of chav-dom.
              i'd still **** her though, drunk or sober,
like i once mentioned: anything that moves (to a friend).
now i realise this is getting serious,
    compromised on half an hour to write my
father's roofind invoice like chopin...
i rarely look at the keyboard... so it's either the machine-gun
or piano metaphor for the computer keyboard,
definitely not a general practitioner's
crow-pecking a snail out of dynamic... index peck...
peck... peck... index peck... peck...
                7 days' worth of activity done in half an hour...
he was watching chelsea vs. man utd. and it was
the quarter finals in the f.a. cup...
      i stood there trying to keep the supermarket
walk ritual open until 11pm for my usual dose...
in the 77th minute of the match i forgot the ballerinas
   and heard that there would be a semi-final draw...
back in a minute...
                          so off i went...
       and came back drinking a 85pence ale...
       mmm... fruity...
                             the wheat extract brew was much better
though; i actually had to sniff the head of the bottle
because i: wasn't shopping for perfumes.
that said, i can't remember the last time i washed my entire
body... armpits? sure, everyday... teeth?
what is preached to children, a pea sized dollop
and then the tactic of: quickly does it;
under 30seconds... they tell you you should do it for 3minutes?
they're into employing dentsists.
  oh yeah... that milk thing?
                           what's your suggestion on the sugar
lactose and diabetes?
     what's truly problematic though?
the form... i start of thin... and then my poems become
fat... it's annoying to the point that there is no comparison
to justify this demise...
             like i want a waterfall precision...
but end up with a pyramid (or thereabouts)...
uh, wonky, ~... doing the egyptian wavy hand
gesture... or more like a seesaw: left? right? right?
what?! left?!
                       but most of the time i think about
my uncle (my mother's brother) and the year
when red hot chili peppers released
   their album californication, and spending the summer
working on his vintage porsche, and eating
chips and hot chicken wings...
        mental illness? that's when you turn compuslive...
memory? i can't control my memory...
memories are just conjured like spells culminating
into a jinn being summoned...
                     it's true what they say:
you are bound to not think if the other two major
faculties as stressors to overcome the "need" to think
(and when did happen that einstein ran a marathon
and thought up his *******?) -
                       my main interest is memory,
and to counter the theory of natural selection...
i conjure up memory...
              obviously i have no care for darwinian arguments,
solipsistic? sure, why wouldn't i be?
                     with regard to how i was treated?
it's a pretty natural and readily available resource
to introduce a membrane akin to a cactus.

I hope Dave doesn't mind, but I am used to her holding my hands now, the certainty of death has a curious way of removing barriers of uncertain modesty.

Today she has come in with a basket of my favourite books because unlike the sombre woman in white overalls, she knows I need my  Hemmingway more than I need the dripping blood of another man. After all, it was she who started that stupid ritual of calling me Old Man, after she saw me reading Hemmingway at 16 - the stain of the spilled medical cocktail on her white shirt still makes me wonder whether it was all a mistake.

She has stopped crying these days, the tears make me uncomfortable like they always do - Her 2nd year analysis on patriarchal oppression of men might have helped her understand my plight, but it can't stop her from wiping off the occasional tear when she thinks i am asleep.
Today she can't stop kissing my clean shaven head - i wonder if it feels different from the days when she used to play with my outgrown tufts. The kisses make me a bit more naked than the dressing gown they make me wear, but it's the kind of nakedness that makes you feel feel more thoughtful on winter nights.
As she strokes my face, the edges of her engagement ring are gently rubbing across my cheeks, and reminding me that he will arrive any moment.

She has to leave a bit early today- Dave is meeting her parents, so she apologies as if I will die the next day - what *******, I am gonna stick around for no less than 2 weeks the doctors have said.

As i see her leave, I take out the half torn tissue on which i had been secretly scribbling - old habits die hard. The poem was almost done - almost, apart from the last lines. You see, when you are dying, you tend to become obsessed with endings.

"And so although Its been twenty years since you said I would be your last,
You still look beautiful when you wear your past"

I hope Dave doesn't mind.

Dear Seb,
My infatuation with you did not impress.

Dear Josh,
We were 5000 feet above sea level, with a fear of heights.
Desperation fuelled the climb.

Dear Dave,
You were my first love.
You chew me up and refuse to spit me out.

Dear Dan,
I am sorry.

Dear Alex,
You should be sorry.
Black and purple did not suit my skin.

Dear Shea,
We tried too hard.
We lived in too many shadows.

Dear Dave,
I cannot get you out of my bones.
You squat beneath my ribcage.

Dear Craig,
You gave me disillusion with meaningful words.
I tried to love you.

Dear Joe,
You are breathtaking and the everything of everything.
And I do not know how to be enough.

Dear Keith,
Why did we do it?

Dear Theo,
I would have broken that softness in your eyes.

Dear Dave,
Your indelible imprint colours everything I do.

Dear Cameron,
You are my what's next.

Dear Joe,
You stroked my hand and my hair to wake me.
You are afraid of me.

Dear Dave,
I still remember every word.
Every one.

Dear Lucas,
In my head we had infinity.

Dear Matthew,
I was a vacuum in your life.
Together we were less than nothing.

Dear Joe,
You are the birds singing at dawn.
Why do you want me?

Dear Dave,
I still remember.

Lunch rush was hell for the new girl,
stacking foamed cappuccino cups
and stirring spoons in a broken-handled
bus tub while trying not to slip
on soft ice and discarded lemon
wedges. She took our mugs,
and told us about a guy

—Dave, she said. I don't know.—who sat
with his friend, comparing *** to work
over the rusted cabinet tracks
of his warped fork scraping
his egg-caked plate.
Dave's friend was leaned in
with a cocked grin waiting
for one of Dave's "Classic Dave" punchlines,

which I'm guessing are all witty,
the funniest *******
things you've ever heard,
but there wasn't one
this time

because there's nothing funny about
a ***** intern cringing beneath the weight
of fat Dave and his brick
paperweight jammed in her back.

party zone with johnny brown




johnny’    hi dudes and welcime to the 2nd party zone for 2016 and tonight we are going

to party real hard and our first party dude  is lorraine

lorraine’  i want  to be so happy  

i want to be so cool

i want to drink scotch on the rocks following a lovely bbq

i am very happy as happy as can be

i don’t know why i am so happy

i only know i am, party on dudes

johnny’  yeah you look like you are ready to party tonight

lorraine’  it’s the end of the working week, why not

johnny’  ok here is patric weezer

pattrick’   one sheep two fish red fish blue fish

going ba ba ba every ****** where

five sheep six  sheep silver sheep black sheep

you see it’s  hard to become the black sheep of the family

nine fish ten fish isn’t that a dainty dish

to put before prince william on the way to buckingham palace today

eleven fish twelve fish

i wonder who i will find at the party for my best mate tom

it’s fine to have fish, especially down the coast with chips

johnny’ are you creative

patrick’  yeah, i am an artist and a writer and a youtube entertainer, i am cool

johnny’  ok here is harry with a great rhyme

dave bought a honday for his best friend rhonda

to make her pretty wealthy

dave bought a honda

and he will make it a party

yeah, we will get down and boogie and say oh lay

hey little old lady

pretty pretty baby

saying

dave bought a honda for his aunty flo who went home to make pumpkin scones for joh

but joh didn’t want any cause he ws too right wing

dave bought a honda from adelaide and every night we say dave bought a honda for everyone around oh dude

johnny’  yeah what a great one, but your choice of politicians, ya know a bit old and dead

harry’ yeah, but i am 56 years old and i still want to party

johnny’   here is another party song from kenneth

kenneth’  16 pounds to buy a car with

it is a very cheap car if it costs that much

a dollar bill to buy a car mat

cause it really protects your car floor

and aussie cent ain’t around anymore, cause it can’t afford anything no fear, so chuck it away my friend

a japanese coin is a wonderful coin

i notice how there is a hole in the middle, to stick your finger in, yeah

$16 is a lot ya see

you could buy an expensive tub of honey from the bee

so if you spend all this money now

just remember the tune from hello in the ‘80s with oh yeah bow bow

johnny’  thank you kenneth

kenneth, yeah, and i am ready to pardddy, now party dudes, have the best hangover cure if you are totally wasted tomorrow

johnny’  thank you kenneth and thanks dudes for enjoying party zone

catch ya later dudes

Canto I. Long ago and far away...

Under the bridge across the Kankakee River, Grampa found me. I was busted for truancy. First grade. 1946.

Summer and after school: Paper route, neighborhood yard work, dogsbody in a drugstore, measuring houses for the county, fireman EJ&E railroad, janitor and bottling line Pabst Brewery Peoria. 1952-1962.

Fresh caught Mississippi River catfish. Muddy Yummy. Burlington, Iowa. 1959. Best ever.

In college, Fr. ***** usually confused me with my roommate, Al. Except for grades. St. Procopius College, 1958-62. Rats.

Coming home from college for Christmas. Oops, my family moved a few streets over and forgot to tell me. Peoria, 1961.

The Pabst Brewery lunchroom in Peoria, a little after dawn, my first day. A guy came in and said: "Who wants my horsecock sandwich? ****, this first beer tastes good." We never knew how many he drank. 1962.

At grad school, when we moved into the basement with the octopus furnace, Dave, my roommate, contributed a case of Chef Boyardee spaghettios and I brought 3 cases of beer, PBRs.  Supper for a month. Ames. 1962.

Sharon and I were making out in the afternoon, clothes a jumble. Walter Cronkite said, " President Kennedy has been shot…”. Ames, 1963.

I stood in line, in my shorts, waiting for the clap-check. The corporal shouted:  "All right, you *******, Uncle and the Republic of Viet Nam want your sorry *****. Drop 'em".  Des Moines. Deferred, 1964.

Married and living in student housing. Packing crate furniture. Pammel Court, 1966.

One of many undistinguished PhD theses on theoretical physics. Ames. 1967.

He electrified the room. Every woman in the room, regardless of age, wanted him, or seemed to. The atmosphere was primeval and dripping with desire. In the presence of greatness. Palo Alto, 1968.

US science jobs dried up. From a mountain-top, beery conversation, I got a research job in Germany. Boulder, 1968. Aachen, 1969.

The first time I saw automatic weapons at an airport. Geneva, 1970.

I toasted Rembrandt with sparkling wine at the Rijksmuseum. He said nothing. Amsterdam International Conference on Elementary Particles. 1971.

A little drunk, but sobering fast: the guard had Khrushchev teeth.
Midnight, alone, locked in a room at the border.
Hours later, release. East Berlin, 1973. Harrassment.

She said, "You know it's remarkable that we're not having an affair." No, it wasn't. George's wife.  Germany, 1973.

"Maybe there really are quarks, but if so, we'll never see them." Truer than I knew.  Exit to Huntsville, 1974.

On my first day at work, my first federal felony. As a joke, I impersonated an FBI agent. What the hell? Huntsville. 1974. Guess what?-- No witnesses left! 2021.

Hard work, good times, difficult times. The first years in Huntsville are not fully digested and may stay that way.

The golden Lord Buddha radiated peace with his smile. Pop, pop. Shots in the distance. Bangkok. 1992.

Accomplishment at work, discord at home. Divorce. Huntsville. 1994. I got the dogs.

New beginnings, a fresh start, true love and life-partner. Huntsville. 1995.

Canto II. In the present century...

Should be working on a proposal, but riveted to the TV. The day the towers fell and nearly 4000 people perished. September 11, 2001.

I started painting. Old barns and such. 2004.

We bet on how many dead bodies we would see. None, but lots of flip-flops and a sheep. Secrets of the Yangtze. 2004

I quietly admired a Rembrandt portrait at the Schiphol airport. Ever inscrutable, his painting had presence, even as the bomb dogs sniffed by. Beagles. 2006.

I’ve lost two close friends that I’ve known for 50-odd years. There aren’t many more. Huntsville. 2008 and 2011.

Here's some career advice: On your desk, keep a coffee cup marked, "No Whining", that side out. Third and final retirement. 2015.

I occasionally kick myself for not staying with physics—I’m jealous of friends that did. I moved on, but stayed interested. Continuing.

I’m eighty years old and walk like a duck. 2021.

Letter: "Your insurance has lapsed but for $60,000, it can be reinstated provided you are alive when we receive the premium." Life at 81. Huntsville, 2022.

Canto III: Coda

Honest distortions emerging from the distance of time. The thin comfort of fading memories. Thoughts on poor decisions and worse outcomes. Not often, but every now and then.

(Begun May 2016)

PARTY ZONE WITH DAVE BROWN




DANCERS’   YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE MY ONLY SUNSHINE

YOU MAKE ME HAPPY WHEN SKIES ARE GRAY

I WILL NEVER KNOW DEAR, HOW MUCH I LOVE YA

YOU CAN NEVER TAKE MY SUNSHINE AWAY

OH YEAH DUDES ROCK AND ROLL

GET UP ON THE DANCEFLOOR AND TOUCH YOUR IMMORTAL SOULS

YEAH, MATE YEAH, YOU’LL LIVE FOREVER

IF YOU DON’T GET A FUCKEN WHITE ****** FEATHER

YEAH YOU ARE OUR PARTY DUDE, OUR ONLY PARTY DUDE

YOU MAKE US HAPPY, FOR BEING ALIVE

YOU’LL NEVER KNOW DEAR, HOW MUCH I CAN DRINK BEER

AS I TAKE YOUR COOL KID AWAY

DAVID’  WELCOME TO PARTY ZONE AND ON TODAY’S SHOW WE HAVE BERT ROBERTS

WITH HIS NEW SONG, TITLED YOU AND ME, DREAMING TO BE FREE, IN A CABBAGE PATCH GARDEN

AND NOW HERE IS SUE, BUDDY

SUE’  THANKS AND NOW, WE HAVE GEORGE AND HIS LITTLE JINGLE

GEORGE’  PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY, I MEAN PARTY

IF YOUR WHOLE WORLD DEPENDED ON IT, YOU ****** PARTY

FIRST YOU GO INTO A NIGHTCLUB AND IF MATES DITCHED YOU, OH YEAH

JUST LOOK AT THEM AS LOSERS ANYWAY

PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY I MEAN PARTY

PARTY IN EVERY NIGHT AND ****** DAY

YOU WILL NEVER KNOW DEAR, HOW MUCH I ENJOY PARTYING

JUST AS LONG AS YOU CAN BE SAFE, OH ****** YEAH

SUE’   THANKS GEORGE AND HERE IS JUDY

JUDY’   I AM 23 AND I LOVE TO PARTY, DOWN

AND MAKE OLD MISERY GUTSES FROWN

AS THEY ARE TRYING TO BE COOL

YA SEE I HAVE ALL THE FELLAS AROUND ME

I AM HAVING A WOW OF A TIME

AND THEN SOME KIND SIR BOUGHT ME A DRINK

WHICH WAS SODA AND LIME

COME ON OLD MISERY GUTSES , GET OFF YOUR CHAIR

AND NOT JUST TO DO HOUSEWORK, NO MATE NO

YOU HAVE TO GO TO THE CLUB, OH YEAH

AND DRINK YOURSELF SILLY

FOR I AM THE YOUNG DUDE

I WANNA PARTY DOWN

AND MAKE YOU OLD MISERY GUTSES FROWN

AND THAT IS WHAT I DO TEASE THE OLD MISERY GUTS

IN THE OLD MAN SITTING TRYING TO LEFT ALONE

HE SHOULD GET A LIFE, PARTYING, IS THE LAW OF THE LAND

I KNOW BRIAN ALLAN IS YOUR PARTY MAN

AND SO ARE YOU SUE AND DAVID AS WELL

SUE’ THANKS JUDY AND NOW HERE’S PATRICK

PATRICK’  WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT

NO WE’RE AIN’T GOING TO TAKE IT

WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE

YOU SEE I HAVE THE RIGHT TO MUCK AROUND DUDE

I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO COPE WITH YOUR BULLYING DUDE

SAYING, IF YOU DON’T MUCK WITH US, YOU DON’T BELONG

I SAID, I ONLY MUCK WITH REAL PARTY DUDES

AND I GO TO THE CLUB TO EAT A LOT OF FOOD

AND DADDY SAID, YOU ARE RUDE, YA FOOL, YA FOOL

WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT

OUR RULES WE WILL ****** BREAK IT

WE’RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE

SUE’   THANKS PATRICK AND NOW HERE’S BRIAN


BRIAN’   DON’T MESS ME UP, OR I WILL DRAG YOU DOWN

YOU WANT TO EARN MONEY, I WILL TAKE IT FROM YOU

I GOT TO UNDERSTAND THAT POOR PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE TOO

AND AS I GET ON THE DANCEFLOOR, I DO THE BOOGALOO

AND I SAID IT’LL SCATTER MY BRAIN

AND DRIVE MY MIND TOTALLY INSANE

HEAVY METAL MUSIC, IS MY FORTAE, SO STOP TRYING TO BRING ME DOWN

SUE’  THANKS BRIAN, FOR SHOWING US THE POOR MAN’S PARTY, NOW HERE IS MARTIN

MARTIN’   WHAT A NIGHT WE ARE HASVING TONIGHT

***** AND SMOKES, ACTION A PLENTY

I WILL BUY THE WHOLE CLUB A DRINK

AND THAT WILL COST ME 5 INTO 20

MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE

I WANT TO DANCE TO 100 TUNES

I WANT TO DANCE TO 100 MORE

JUST TO BEAT 199 HOMEBODY’S WHO GO TO BED AT 7 PM

THEY SAY I AM LIKE A 2 YEAR OLD, BUT JUST TO THEM THOSE OLD MISERY GUTSES WHO LOVE TO FROWN

SUE’   OK BACK TO DAVID, THANKS MARTIN

DAVID’   HERE IS BERT ROBERTS, WITH HIS NEW SONG

BERT

I AM, ONLY 23, THE DAYS HAVE SEEMED SO LONG CAN’T YA SEE

I AM ENJOYING EACH ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE

YEAH I MUST GET A KICK OUTTA YA

YOU SEE MATE, I AM ONLY 23, I DESERVE ANY CHANCE TO REALLY PARTY

IF YOU CAN’T EXCEPT THAT, GO HOME AND CUDDLE YOUR PILLOW

AND READ YOUR BOOK WIND IN THE WILLOWS

I LOVE PEOPLE WHO DON’T GO TO BED, NO MATTER WHAT THEIR AGES ARE

BECAUSE GOING TO BED EARLY IS FOR WOOSEYS

YEAH ONLY WOOSEYS GO TO BED EARLY DEAR

I WAS MUGGED BY THE WICKED WITCH

CAUSE MY MATES TREATED ME LIKE A SNITCH

I HATED THAT, SO I TOOK MY REVENGE, BUT YEAH, ****** OATHE I AM THE GRINCH

I STOLE CHRISTMAS FROM THE CHRISTIANS, AND GAVE IT TO THE BUDDHISTS

CAUSE, I DID IT ONCE BEFORE, I GET A KICK FROM DOING THIS, WAY TO GO BERT, THEY SAID BACK TO ME

I AM ONLY 23, THE DAYS HAVE SEEMED SO LONG CAN’T YA SEE

I AM ENJOYING EACH ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE

YEAH I MUST GET A KICK OUTTA YA

YA SEE, I HAVE HAD A HARD HARD LIFE, I DESERVE TO PARTY, AND GET INTO STRIFE WITH YOUR WIFE

AND MY MUM AND DAD, WILL SAY, YOU DON’T NEED TO PARTY, WE LIKE YA

I SAID, BUT I WANNA PARTY, I WANNA BE RICH AND FAMOUS, I WANT TO HELP THE HOMELESS, MAN

THAT’LL BE SO RADICAL DUDES, RADICAL RADICAL RADICAL DUDES

IF YA CAN’T EXCEPT ME FAMOUS, KISS MY ***

I AM ONLY 23, THE DAYS HAVE SEEMED SO LONG CAN’T YA SEE

I AM ENJOYING EACH ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE

I MUST GET A KICK OUTTA YA

DAVID, THANKS BERT, AND HERE IS SUE

SUE’  THANKS DAVID, ON MORE JINGLE

BERT’   IF YA HAPPY AND YA KNOW IT, HAVE A PARTY

AND BE A BIT OF A LITTLE SMART ALEK

DON’T FORGET, WE ARE BORN TO PARTY ON AAA YOUTUBE TV

IF YA HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT HAVE A PARTY

DAVID’ WELL BERT YOUR SONG WAS SO COOL

BERT’  YEAH, MATE, I REALLY LOVE LIFE, ONLY NERDS GO TO BED EARLY

NO MATTER HOW OLD THEY ARE

SUE’   YOU REALLY MEAN THAT

BERT’ YES I DO

DAVID AND SUE TOGETHER

WAY TO GO BERT, SEE YA NEXT TIME, LET’S PARTY DUDES

12 Monkeys
17 Girls
127 Hours
2 Days in New York 2012
2 Days in Paris 2010
2001 A Space Odyssey
360
A Beautiful Mind
A Bridge Too Far
A Few Good Men
A Single Man
A Perfect Getaway
A Serbian Film
A Very Long Engagement
A.I.
Absolute Power
Adaptation
Airborne
Air Force One
Airplane 1
Airplane 2
Albert Nobbs
Alex Cross
Alpha Dog
American Beauty
American Gangster
Amorres Perros
Amour
Anchorman
Andy Warhol's Bad 1977
Andy Warhol's ******* 1964
Andy Warhol's Eat 1964
Animal Kingdom
Annie Hall
Anti-Christ
Apocalypse Now Redux
Apollo 13
Arachnophobia
Apt Pupil
Armageddon
Babel
Backdraft
Bad Company
Bad Education
Badlands 1973
Barton Fink
Basquiat
Before Night Falls
Being Flynn
Beneath Hill 60
Beyond the Black Rainbow
Billy Madison
Biutiful - Spanish
Blade 1
Blade 2
Blade 3
Blade Runner Final Cut
Blades of Glory
Blood Work
Blue Valentine
Breach
Broken Arrow
Born on the Fourth of July
Boyz in the Hood
Bullet
Bulworth
Brothers
Caddyshack 1 & 2
Career Opportunities
Carlos The Jackal The Movie
Carne by Gaspar Noe - French
Cashback
CB4
Charlie Wilson's War
Chelsea Girls 1966
Cherry
Chinatown
Ciao Manhattan ft. Edie Sedgewick 1972
Cinema Paradiso
City of God
Clear and Present Danger
Closely Watched Trains - Czech
Contact
Corpse Bride
Courage Under Fire
Crazy Stupid Love
Dark Shadows
Dave 1993
Daybreakers
Days of Heaven
Dazed and Confused
Dead Presidents
Defiance
Desperately Seeking Susan
Despicable Me
Detachment
Die Hard Quadrilogy
**** Tracy
***** Harry
Django Unchained
Dogtooth - Greek
Dogville
Doubt
Dracula, Bram Stoker's
Dragonheart
Dream House
Drive
Drop Zone
Dumbo
Dune Extended Edition
Ears Open, Eyeballs Click
Easier With Practice
Easy Rider 1969
Edward Scissorhands
Empire of the Sun
Encino Man
Enter the Void by Gaspar Noe
Eraser 1999
Eyes Wide Shut 1999
Face Off 1997
Fallen
Fantastic Mr. Fox
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Fight Club
Fill the Void
Fish Tank
Fitzcarraldo
Five Minutes in Heaven
Flickan 2009 - Swedish
Flubber 1997
Folks!
Forbidden Planet 1956
Fracture
Friday 1995
Friday After Next 2002
Frost Nixon
******* Amal - Swedish
Full Metal Jacket
Funny Farm 1988
Funny Games
Fur- An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus
G.I. Jane
G.I. Joe Retaliation
Gangs of New York
Gangster Squad
Garden State
Get Rich or Die Tryin'
Ghostbusters 1
Girlfriend
Girl, Interrupted
Glengarry Glen Ross
Gomorra - Italian
Great Expectations 1998
Greenberg
Grindhouse Death Proof
Grindhouse Planet Terror
Groundhog Day 1993
Grumpy Old Men
Grumpier Old Men
Gummo
Gus Van Sant's Last Days
Half Nelson
Hannibal
Havoc
Haywire
Heartbreak Ridge
Heat
Hell on the Pacific 1986
Hesher
Hitchcock
Holy Rollers
Hook
Honey I Shrunk the Kids
Hyde Park on Hudson
I Am Curious Blue
I Am Curious Yellow
I Heart Huckabees
I Stand Alone by Gaspar Noe - French
If Looks Could **** 1991
I'm Not There
In Bruges
In The Line of Fire
Inglorious Basterds
Inland Empire
Innerspace 1987
Innocence
Interview With the Vampire
Jacob's Ladder
James Bond - Diamonds Are Forever 1971
James Bond - From Russia With Love 1963
James Bond - Goldfinger 1964
James Bond - Never Say Never Again 1983
James Bond - On Her Majesty's Secret Service 1969
James Bond - Thunderball 1965
James Bon - You Only Live Twice 1967
Jane Eyre
Jeremiah Johnson 1972
JFK
Joe Versus the Volcano
Johnny English 2
Julien Donkey-Boy
Juno
Just Cause
Kapringen aka A Hijacking - Icelandic
Ken Park
Killing Season
Killing Them Softly
Kindergarten Cop
Kingpin
Koyaanisqatsi
Krippendorf's Tribe
Kiss the Girls
La Vie En Rose
Last Night
Last of the Dogmen
Leon: The Professional
Leonard Pt. 6
Les Miserables
Lie With Me
Life of Pi
Lincoln
Lions For Lambs
Little Children
Lord of the Rings Trilogy BR Extended
Lord of War
Lost Highway
Love and Other Drugs
Love in the Time of Cholera
Love Liza
Lovers of the Arctic Circle
Mad Max 1979
Mad Max 2 1981
Mad Max 3 1985
Major Payne
Malcolm X
Man on Fire
Manhunter
Maverick 1994
Meet Joe Black
Melancholia
Menace II Society DIrector's Cut 1993
Mesrine 1 Killer Instinct - French
Mesrine 2 Public Enemy - French
Milk
Minority Report
Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol
Mister Lonely
Money Train
Moonrise Kingdom
Moulin Rouge
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
****** By Numbers
Munich
My Sassy Girl 2008
Naqoyqatsi Life As War
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
National Treasure Book of Secrets
Never Cry Wolf
Never Let Me Go
New Jack City
New York I Love You
Night on Earth 1991 - Italian
Nixon
Not Fade Away
Notes on a Scandal
O Brother, Where Art Thou
October Sky
Olympus Has Fallen
Ondskan - Swedish
One False Move
Out of Africa
Outbreak
Palmetto
Paris Texas Criterion 1984
Passenger 57
Paths of Glory 1957
Perfect Sense
Peter Pan
Philadelphia 1993
Pinocchio
Pirate Radio
Platoon 1986
Pleasantville
*******
Project X 1987
Proof
Quiz Show
Rabbits
Revolver
Robocop Trilogy
Robot and Frank
Rolling Stone's Gimme Shelter
Romance and Cigarettes
Romeo and Juliet 1996
Sahara
Saving Private Ryan
Schindler's List
Searching For Bobby Fischer
Secretary, The
Seven Years in Tibet
Sgt. Bilko
Shame 2011
Shine
Shooter
Shopgirl
Sid and Nancy
Sin City
Sky Captain and The World of Tomorrow
Skyfall
Slackers
Sleepers
Sleeping Beauty 1959
Sleeping Beauty 2011
Sleepy Hollow
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Somewhere
South Central
Sphere
Spread
Spy Game
Stand Up Guys
Stay
Summer Hours - French
Sweeney Todd - The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Synecdoche, NY
Syriana
Talk To Her - Habla Con Ella
Taken 1 & 2
Takers
****
Taxidermia
Tetro
Thank You For Smoking
That Thing You Do!
The Adjustment Bureau
The Age of Innocence by Martin Scorcese 1993
The Bad Lieutenant - Port of Call New Orleans 2009
The Basketball Diaries
The Beach 2000
The Believer
The Beverly Hillbillies
The Black Dahlia
The Blue Lagoon 1980
The Book of Eli
The Boxer
The Constant Gardner
The Conversation
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Darjeeling Limited
The Dark Knight
The Dark Knight Rises
The Day of the Jackal
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
The Fifth Element
The Flock
The Flowers of War
The Fountain
The Getaway
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo 2011
The Golden Compass
The Good Shepherd
The Good The Bad and The Ugly
The Goonies
The Green Mile
The Grey
The Help
The Hudsucker Proxy
The Hurricane
The Hurt Locker
The Ice Storm
The Ides of March
The Illusionist
The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
The Impossible
The Informers
The Invasion
The Iron Lady
The Island of Dr. Moreau
The Jackal
The ****
The Killer Inside Me
The Kingdom
The Legend of Bagger Vance
The Lost Boys
The Lost Boys The Tribe
The Lost Boys Thirst
The Machinist
The Mask
The Man Who Fell to Earth 1976
The Master
The Mechanic
The Money Pit
The Naked Gun 1
The Naked Gun 2
The Naked Gun 3
The New World
The Pelican Brief
The Place Beyond the Pines
The Prestige
The Queen
The Raven
The Reader
The Red Balloon
The Right Stuff
The Road
The Rock
The Rocketeer
The Rules of Attraction
The *** Diary
The Saint
The Shawshank Redemption
The Silence of the Lambs
The Skin I Live In - Mexican
The Soloist
The Talented Mr. Ripley
The Thin Red Line
The Town
Transformers Trilogy
The Tree of Life
Tron Legacy 2010
The United States of Leland
The Usual Suspects
The Way Back
There Will Be Blood
There's Something About Mary
Three Days of the Condor
Three Kings
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
To the Wonder
To Rome With Love

Tombstone
Total Recall 1990
Trainspotting
Trash Humpers
True Lies
Two Lovers
Two Weeks in September(Brigette Bardot) 1967
Tyrannosaur
Unbreakable
Uncle Buck
Unforgiven
Unleashed
Unstoppable
V for Vendetta
Varsity Blues
Vertigo
Vicky Christina Barcelona
Videodrome
Virtuosity
Wag the Dog
Wake Up Ron Burgundy The Lost Movie
Walkabout
Wall Street 1987
Wall Street 2010
Wanderlust
Water World
Wayne's World 1 & 2
We Are The Night
War Witch
We Need to Talk About Kevin
Weekend by Jean-Luc Godard - French
Weekend 2011
West of Memphis
What Doesn't **** You
What's Eating Gilbert Grape
When Harry Met Sally
Where the Wild Things Are
White House Down
White Material Criterion 2009
White Oleander
Who is Harry Nilsson?
Wolf 1992
Womb
You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger
Zardoz 1974


Documentaries & Music Videos


BBC - Life in Cold Blood
BBC - Planet Earth
BBC - Rolling Stones Crossfire Hurricane
BBC - Great Bear Steakout
BBC - Ice Age Giants
BBC - Insect Worlds
BBC - Life on Earth 1979
BBC - Lost Cities of the Ancients
BBC - Operation Snow Tiger
BBC - Penguins: Spy in the Huddle
BBC - Polar Bear: Spy on the Ice
BBC - Richard Hammond's Miracles of Nature
BBC - The Life of Birds
BBC - Wonders of Life
David Blaine Collection
**** Proenke Collection - Alone and Solitude, The Frozen North
Encounters at the End of the World 2007
Nanook of the North
National Geographic Wild Kingdom of the Oceans Giants of the Deep: Whales
Shine A Light - The Rolling Stones
Vladimir Horowitz - Der Ietzte Romantiker
Vladimir Horowitz - Live in Vienna 1987
Vladimir Horowitz - The 1968 TV Concert
Whale Adventure with Nigel Marvin

It’s Sunday afternoon and several of us, Leong, Sunny, Anna, Lisa and her new BF Dave (well, he isn’t ‘new,’ he’s 26) and I are watching an NFL football game. The Eagles vs the Jets.

There’s a platter of wings, fries, celery and dips on the low-white table for grazing and everyone’s multitasking while watching the game. Leong, Lisa and I on iPads, Anna, and Dave are on laptops and Sunny has a book.

I’m rooting for the Jets, although they’re the underdogs and given little chance. Dave’s for the Eagles, he believes they’re SuperBowl bound and he may be right.

After every good Jets play, like a first down, or defensive tackle or a score, I start snapping my finger - like the dancing Jet hoodlums in ‘West Side Story’ and sing:

“When you're a Jet,
you’re a Jet all your life
all your kids will be Jets
and even your wife.”

When I did it the first time, Dave chuckled. Lisa patted his arm, saying, “You’ll get used to it.” I’ve only done it twenty or thirty times since then and everyone’s ignoring me.

“I could be a songwriter, you know,” I said, “just give up this life of college drudgery and hang with T-Swift”. No one denied my obvious talent.

A huge Eagles lineman bust through the Jets o-line, throwing QB Zach Wilson to the turf, “Jeez,” Anna said.
“That guy’s not an Eagle,” I protested indignantly, “he’s a condor.” I was hoping for a flag but none were thrown.

“I want some steak”, I announced suddenly, to no one and everybody, switching subjects as quickly as a brain synapse fires.
“Do you know,” I reasoned extemporaneously, “that a diet of nothing but healthy prime-rib or ribeye steak can practically eliminate the chance of coming down with mad-lettuce-disease?”

“Mad-lettuce-disease?” Sunny asked, looking up from her book with a smirk.
“Middle America,” I began, Leong groaned and Lisa rolled her eyes at Dave, who smiled.
“That’s where all our vegetables come from,” I said, “the red states on the electoral maps,” I clarified even further.

“Well, how can we explain simple, decent, hard-working people falling in love with a lying, craven, reality-TV huckster like Trump?” I asked rhetorically,  looking around for an answer. When no answer was forthcoming, I supplied it:
“Mad-lettuce-disease!” I proclaimed, “Those people are eating the ‘vegetables’ they grow!” Giving the word ‘vegetables’ the same scorn I might lavish on ‘cigarettes’.

“If we all just stuck to a healthy, all-steak diet, ‘Mad-lettuce-disease’ would fade away and America would be saved.” I concluded, like a lawyer finishing a summation to a jury.
I expected applause, or at least a few “Amens” but there were only a few grunts and maybe a chuckle.

On the screen, the Jets defense broke through the Eagles o-line and quarterback Jalen Hurts, under pressure, threw an interception. I jumped to my feet yelling,“YES!” and begin snapping again:

“When you're a Jet
you’re a Jet all the way
from your first sorry breath
to your last dying day”

I love football, and the Jets won!

I’m Cameron, call me Dave,
Power I do crave.
I’ll tell any story
To con you into voting Tory.