Phillip Wilson

Amazingly, I survived my Life
2011-09-30 00:02:21 (UTC)

2001 REVIEW (PART TWENTY-ONE)

13 February-31 December, Childersburg/Sylacauga, AL (continues)

(acerca 4:53 P.M.) I substained a “boo-boo” on the job late this morning: “Ordered” to change plastic streamer signs in front of the store (the right as one leaves) a wasp or bee stung me on the left arm in two different places. For some reason I failed to see the hive less than two feet in front of me high on the wall near the ceiling. I guess I was too threatening to the “herd.” To chase me away, she or he punched me twice. It worked! And did it ever work! I went running to Louise (it was she who pointed out the hive) and she put alchol on the wounds.
Later, Louise sprayed poison on the hive, killing all the inhabitants. The hive fell to the sidewalk, where Louise stomped it. However, three wasps, apparently away from home, searched all over for the house, having been told as children that a built-in homing device would always serve him or her well. But the cofused wasps were unable to locate the base from which they had left just minutes before. I decided to keep away from the panicky threesome, so I did other things until the area was clear. No, I’m not allergic to bee sting: I just don’t like the pain!
I figured it would be truck-unloading that would get me first. But a small animal: Who would have thought!
Since about 4:15 P.M., Kayla has been hanging around. And we can’t get rid of her – until early this evening.

(acerca 10:47 P.M.) Why was I so full of energy at work today? Was it a sugar “high”: For breakfast I had biscuits and jelly. Or was it a tobacco “high”: I begin the 9-2 shift with a cigarette. Whatever was ”behind” the enthusiasm for Bargain Town duties, I wish I had it every time I set foot in the place! Although the high-level energy is wasted at Bargain Town, just as my high-level clowning was wasted on Carson and Barnes Circus. So how best to use the energy? That is the question I must answer.
Speaking of clowning: I actually thought that clowning was my full-time job on the circus, that any other work would take away from it! How nieve I was! From watching the video BARNEY’S MUSICAL CASTLE with Kayla – who left at 9:05 P.M., or thereabouts – several times, I realized that the production staff most likely doubled as performers, and that epiphany got me thinking: Why did I insist on sheltering and protecting Luigi from non-clowning (Big Top, electrician, etc) work? I had some notion that I was an artist only: As a result I failed to squeeze and “benefit” from my “sawdust” experience.
Somehow, diet is connected to physical outlay. And spiritual “put-out.”

(28th, About 8:09 A.M.) It was around 9:08 yesterday evening when I pressed the power button, the “1,” and the “0,” in order to view WASHINGTON WEEK (9-9:30 P.M., P.B.S.). And, naturally, the set remained on for ROCK AND ROLL (9:30-10:30 P.M., P.B.S.) that followed.
I assume Louise thinks of herself as a good manager. So why was the asperin, an expiration date of September 2001, not move from the Bin to the floor for sale until I did such? One of the Bin bottles had an April 2001 no-good-to-sale date.

(acerca 8:33 A.M.) Louise claims that the asperin, along with several other products (the Christmas, Easter, and Halloween stuff don’t count) was in the Bin when she started working at the Childersburg Bargain Town last September, that instead of “squeezing” the stock onto the Floor, it was “hid” in the Bin. That may or may not be true, but once Louise began her “reign” as manager, the Bin area should have been cleared of all non-seasonal salable items. That tale she told me about the former stock “team” hiding merchandise in the Bin and not finding room on the Floor for it: More than likely that was all a cover-up. If a low-level Stock Clerk is able to find space on the shelves for the items left in the Bin, then why wasn’t the top-level unable to ? Don’t get me wrong: I am not envious of Louise and want to be the manager of Bargain Town. If Raleigh wants to put a person like, than fine. It’s their store!

(acerca 12:04 P.M.) Louise told me yesterday that Kathy and Angie were not doing their work properly: The Clothing section wasn’t being kept up-to-date. I responded that I would do it, but I didn’t know anything about that part of the store. Louise declared that the Clothing section was my job.
“Neither is the transfer of merchandise from the Bin to the floor: That is your job, but I do it simply because it needs to be done!” Now, I didn’t say that, but I could have and should have. I have been “sneaking” school supplies, back packs, and other stuff from the Bin over to the Floor: I hate to see even an inanimate object not used. If I get fired for doing my job too well, than so be it. But if I have to do the low-level, insulting work, I at least can do it with dignity: Lord knows it doesn’t dignify me!
It is sunny and hot at present, but such wasn’t the case earlier: It was hot, but not sunny. Phoebus must have squeezed the Blackness from the Clouds. And that Blackness, to find out, was nothing but troops of Rain hiding from the Boss. Rain had no intention of working today, but Phoebus came across the Stow-aways by accident. The Clouds are now free to house Heat: There is so much of It.
Saturday began with another visit from Kayla: Around 9:10 A.M., her mother brought her over. She (Kayla) is still in residence.

(acerca 12:53 P.M.) I contacted the Department of Health and Human Services via e-mail this morning: I am still extremely concern about the mis-treatment my disability claim is receiving. Maybe the federal level can do what the state or local level couldn’t or wouldn’t.
I had ridden downtown with Joyce, granny, and Kayla: The latter was all dressed up for her picture-taking a Wal-Mart. David had to nap, so, in addition to the proposed “sitting” in front of a camera, Joyce and granny took Kayla on a “window shopping” expedition. Kayla didn’t mind: She just enjoys getting out.
In addition to the e-mail to HHS, which was my main order of business, I also “called up” P.B.S. and APTV on the internet, as well as job searched with the Birmingham television stations.
It was around 9:4_ A.M. when I beg_n my business day. A few minutes before 11:30 A.M., Joyce came into the library as a sign that, if I desired a ride home, I should come to the waiting car as soon as I can. This return trip mode of transportation had been arranged earlier.
While downtown, before “hitting” the library, I purchased two stamps (68 cents), a bottle of Shampoo from Family Dollar ($1.08), and a pack of cigarettes ($1.39).
Having made room in the Clouds for Heat, the day is a hot one. It will only get worse before it gets better.

(acerca 2:50 P.M.) How hot is it? It is so hot that the Clouds are not safe havens for Rain: Just as soon as a Blackness build-up occurs, Heat sucks it up.
Kathy Keith, the African American female at work: The body odor from us is sickening. If I was a pr__ticing racist, I could sure use the stench as a confirmation that Black people are vastly inferior to White people!

(acerca 3:14 P.M.) Although interesting and nice to know, I feel that literary criticism applied to “Wuthering Heights” should be restricted to comments concerning the structure, character-development, and artistic merits of the novel and not a “could be” scrutiny for social commentary. I doubt if Emily Bronte wanted such to happen: If so, any analysis vulgarizes “Wuthering Heights” and its spirit. Why can’t those bored “scholars” leave well enough alone? Why can’t they pick on something else? No body needs their help to enjoy the novel. And such may anger them: Out of revenge may come all these explanations that divert people’s attention away from the true meaning of the story. It is a tale of two people and how love assumed control over them and forced them into anti-social behavior. About how dangerous true love is. If Heathcliff is a “persona” to avoid, one really doesn’t want true love, in spite of what one hears to the contrary. True love has a honey-dripping mouth: It is like the spider – “Come into my nest!” said the Spider to the fly. And we all know what happens if fly falls for the seductive charm of the spider!

(acerca 5:05 P.M.) It’s creepy enough when a normal mortal has to live without uniting with his feminine half! This critical need is only a major minority of a living male. But Emily Bronte created a man in which this frustrated search for one’s feminine half is almost the entire person: No doubt she did this to emphasize the importance of successfully bonding with one’s feminine side. Most likely Hethcliff’s personality was exaggerated for a reason: To point out the torment of being teased by that otherness, of being taunted by it every day and night while it eludes capture.
Joyce and granny took Kayla home around 4:32 P.M. I remained behind and juggled for about 33 minutes.

(acerca 6:24 P.M.) 20-tablets for $4. Two cents a pill. Just how potent are those Vitamins “C” pills?
What the hell, they were “free” and you get what you pay for!
Too much Vitamin “C” is bad for the body. I’m sure that I needn’t worry about vitamin “C” overload!
According to the internet, $700 a month or more makes some one not elgible for disability and/or SSI. If that is the case, I am more than qualified!

(29th, About 9:34 A.M.) It bothers me to no end whenever I find out that I was neglectful in journal maintenance, especially when such neglect happened within ghe last 6-7 years. It was almost as if I resented the obtrusion into my life. And there’s no hiding behind the “I was too busy!” excuse! Although the days that I work eight hours don’t usually allow time for a prolix report. So maybe I’m being too hard on myself: At least there is something there to criticize!
Speaking of being critical: During my 1993-94 “residency” with Richard and Mary Pereles in Louisville, KY, the ever-negative Richard was always making scathing comments on pretensious people, people that pretended to be what they weren’t. How hypocritical of him: Richard was constantly trying to intimidate others into believing he had studied for the priesthood, had been a wrestler, was a former rodeo rider, etc. He was the epitome of pretensiousness!
Phoebus is refreshed after Its evening off. Refreshed enough to heat the day almost to the boiling point.

(acerca 10:51 A.M.) It was a red-letter day yesterday in more ways than one: Yesterday evening Joyce and I shared television-watching, first with RELIC HUNTER 9 7-8:00 P.M., WTTO/CH. 21) and then LIVE BY REQUEST with Neil Diamond (8-10:00 P.M., A and E). Hell, even about forty-five minutes of SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE (10:30-?, N.B.C.) were “taken in” after the NBC13 Local News (10-10:30 P.M.)! Such quality time with my sister doesn’t happen all that often – fortunately. But it won’t hurt me every once and a while.
As you know, I am in the process of re-applying for disability/SSI. Many, if not most, of the dates are curtesy of my toil at journal-keeping. I am approaching this “redo” in much more of a business-like framework than I did before: Over the period of 3-4 days I have written responses to the questions. And I may only include “technical” data: My own personnal observations may not help. They may even be more harmful than helpful! I suppose that I now realized, after two failed attempts, that if I ever have a chance for a disability and/or SSI “grant,” it will come about, as with all legal documents, as a result of “just the facts, M’am.”
I am trying to create an opening for something: During my one and only talk with Helen Waldrop, of Voc Rehab, at Hardee’s in April of this year, I stated that I analyze analyzists. I’m sure such a declaration endeared me to Ms. Waldrop! In truth my “real” handicap is my outspoken-ness: I seen to always talk my way out of anything!

(acerca 11:36 A.M.) I use to think that maybe I was coping out by claiming that the Circus was robbing me of my self-esteem; that self-esteem was much more important than one’s talent. And all these years it has bothered me: If only I had been better able to withstand the assault on my self-esteem.

(acerca 12:11 P.M.) Did I turn my back on my performance “talent” just because of a wish to retain my self-esteem? If it is true that an artist must suffer for her or his art, should I have been more willing to accept a loss of self-esteem?
But on the other hand, any line of work, including and maybe even especially performance, is upgraded tremendously by self-esteem. So I guess I did the correct thing when I “retired” from the circus, which was draining me of self-esteem. I didn’t have much to begin with, which is probably why I became a performer in the first place, but Carson and Barnes – nay, all performing – was, as I look back on it now, taking away the little I had!
Though working as a stock boy at Bargain Town in Childersburg, AL, for $5.15 an hour is not a good way to build up my supply of self-esteem! Which is where You come in, Journal.

(acerca 2:17 P.M.) Every since around 1:05 P.M., Kayla has been the youngest human occupant of 118 Princeton Drive. Damn if she is not becoming a regular “guest” of the household!
Zephyr is shooting Its “guns” at the feet of the trees and bushes: The latter are dancing and gambolling all over the place – as far as their tethers will allow. Zephyr is also giving life to the terrestrial “firestorm.”
It is yet another example of the way America Culture was benefitted by Anerican African-American sub-culture: Years ago – and I mean years! ago – the White Person – I recall how this cliché ran rampant through my family – would criticize the black community for “stuffing 8-10 people into a single car. Nowadays, it is politically correct to carpool. It is only one of many times that the African American sub-culture has been ahead of its time.

(acerca 3:34 P.M.) The Heralds are sounding Their Horns. That can only mean one thing: Rain, with or without Storm, will be here soon. The Clouds are tightly packed along the Parade Route, anxiously awaiting the entrance. But don’t look for Heat to relinquish any power before It is forced.
The MCLANGHLIN GROUP (3-3:30 P.M., P.B.S.) informed me of current events, since I am not a big newspaper reader. I realize it is only PR for George W. Bush, but, if true, he is not as bad as I thought he would be. I would never vote for him in 2004, but he may actually be re-elected. If the country survived Ronald Reagan for eight years, it can handle George W. Bush for eight years!

(30th, About 7:27 A.M.) Last Saturday, while I was watching SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE on Tv with Joyce, I made a comment to a Comedy routine taking place, ”That was bad taste!” because it touched on a current problem-area. In response, Joyce said something like, “All of their [SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE] stuff is in bad taste!” And why not: Isn’t that what Comedy is? Is there anything such as Compassionate Comedy? Isn’t by definition Comedy intentionally deals with sensitive issues in order to highlight society’s refusal to deal with them, ___ing this neglect by claiming they are rem___? Did not Aristophanes create plays that was critical to the culture and social development of 5th Century B.C.E. Greece?
As a clown/comic mime, I told myself, as well as stating it in interviews and the classroom, that there are certain things that shouldn’t be “comedic victims” (drunkness, child abuse, etc). That they were just too sensitive, too pernicious to society to laugh at. But now I understand that when things are given the comic treatment this does not necessarily means that they are not being taken seriously, or the harmful consequences of their fulfillment is not recognized. Just the opposite: These harmful elements are recognized for what they are. Given them a comic treatment tells people not to be intimidated by these “Demons,” that they can be overcome: After all, these “Demons” “put their pants on one leg at a time,” the same as you and me. By refusing to build Comedy around certain topics you are “admitting” your lack of invention and Comic powers.

(acerca 8:13 A.M.) I “announced” that I am “checking” the programs out, as if I am a student of popular culture. How many other television addicts deceive themselves with such justification? Of course I did want to see what type of programming Lifetime (“Television for women) puts out. To this end I viewed THE DIVISION (8-9:00 P.M.) and ANY DAY NOW (9-10:00 P.M. I was pleasantly surprised at the dramatic quality of these shows. And each deth with an issue of relevance to current society: The former, alcholism, and the latter Alzheimer’s.
I hate to admit it – please don’t tell anybody – but I usually inwardly cry whenever I watch TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL (7-8:00 P.M., C.B.S.). It is nothing but a “religious” drama, but I’m anti-organized religion, not anti-spirituality. Many anti-religious people want the show off the air, and, if it hadn’t been emanating from the Family Room Tv set I wouldn’t have viewed it – I never would on my on – but, hey! It is a television drama and if you are offended by it don’t watch it! Television is a business and whatever brings in money is fair game on Tv!

(acerca 2:51 P.M.) According to the Weather Channel, conditions in Birmingham are 88-degrees (F) with a Heat Index of 97-degrees (F). The last I can believe: The Humidity is a terrorist! Fortunately Rain is gathering It into one place and demanding Full Dress. Not long after I arrived home via David around 2:35 P.M., the Front Line initiated the attack.
Unloading the truck left my legs hurting: I don’t know if they can endure too much more!
I can’t tell you how proud I was to mail (Leslie, who was my ride this morning [along with Kayla who, incidentally, was taken home yesterday around 5:07 P.M.] mailed it for me, or rather dropped the large piece of mail in the outgoing mail slot) the disability forms to Greg Graham this morning! The business-like manner in which I “attack” the “filling out” was most impressive if I do say so myself! Even if this “redo” is to no avail, I can be contented that I was very successful and professional, more so than Mr. Graham: I can quote dates and apparently this attorney can’t.
Storm is challenging Humidity to a fight as I write: Thunder is all around us.
The back yard was groomed yesterday evening: Even if I wasn’t “flagged,” further mowing is out of the question today.
By the way, the older Chow-Chow of Anita Matlow fame is named Trixie, not Traci_. Please, when you review the 1997 to 1999 journal(s), make the necessary correction. I wish I could say this is the only “boo boo” that needs to be amended in the earlier volumes of my journal, but – well, it happens!

(31st, About 6:26 A.M.) As far as I can tell, this is the first time – ever – that the final day of a month – any month – and the final entry in a journal installation have corresponded. And, as luck would have it, this final day and an eight-hour day fall on the same twenty-four hour period: I won’t be able to write a long report even if there was enough material for doing so.
To begin this final report, Month VII’s final day is hot and stuffy. So hot, in fact, that steam seems to have built up high above the ground.
FAMILY LAW (9-10:00 C.B.S.) and the first half of THE NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER (7-8:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was the extent of my electronic research yesterday evening. However, I did watch several game shows – or a portion of several – including SHOP ‘TILL YOU DROP, SUPERMARKET SWEEP, and WEAKEST LINK.
The edition of “Wuthering Heights” that I am presently studying – by Baruch Hockman – include selections from Emily Bronte’s journal. Having read some of the selections, I can’t help but compare them to my early journal writing.

(acerca 7:29 A.M.) How could anyone whose journal writings are so infantile create such a compact, well-balanced masterpiece like “Wuthering Heights.” I read that the author’s sister, Charlotte, edited the manuscript: How much “monkeying” around with the structure of the story did this older sibling do? After all, Emily was already dead. In all probability, left to itself, “Wuthering Heights” would have “faded away” after a year or two, if indeed it would even had been accepted by the public at all! I strongly suspect that Charlotte were more responsible for the “classic” status of “Wuthering Heights” than she let on!

(acerca 6:34 P.M.) Add a little Heat. Mix will. Add more Heat. Mix well. Repeat to desire consistency. That how it was today: The Clouds would let Heat be poured on us. Zephyr would stir it, once the Clouds had “closed,” not allowing any more Heat until the mixture was just right. Then the Clouds would part, letting more Heat in the “Bowl.” That went on for a while until the day was just as the final day of Month VII should be, according to – I have no idea!

(Received from Leslie, Bill, and Kayla for Christmas 2000 [December 23, 2000])

(August- 1st, About 6:41 A.M.) I was going to use a regular spiral notebook for the latest volume of this journal, as I have twice before, but I have cheapened it enough already. Besides, it is not a question of money now: It is a matter of getting to an Office Supply store in Birmingham. Hopefully next month . . .
Six or seven weeks ago, when I asked Louise why no one straighten up the shoe area, she told me no one had time. Well, yesterday she was most of the day getting the shoe area in order.
I understand that the district manager was at the store Saturday. The only direct “fall-out” from the inspection was that the balls were marked down two for a dollar of 50 cents a piece. However, I got the feeling Monday morning that I wasn’t Louise’s favorite person. Something “told” me that my “marketing” policy was impressive to Raleigh and somehow Louise was “brought to task.” It is shocking that the store was and is in the shape it was and is and as manager Louise had and has the responsibility to squeeze as much merchandise onto the floor as possible and to make sure that “stuff” is not hidden – yesterday afternoon, while straightening the curtain rods, something that Louise should have done months ago, I found several roll-down curtain shades under a shelf on the floor. I have never directly corresponded with Raleigh, but Louise is not a good manager.

(acerca 8:03 A.M.) It’s the thickness of the paper that counts: The pages of this composition book are the thinnest I ever want to use again.
Last Friday afternoon I was telling Louise that one’s co-workers don’t like it when one is eager and conscienceous in one’s job: It makes them, the co-workers, look bad. Louise agreed with this assessment. And come to find out, she is one of my co-workers!
Last Sunday SIXTY MINUTES (6-7:00 P.M., C.B.S.) was tuned into for the final 15 minutes or so. A “story” of a French actress, still living but 72 years old and working, that was recently inducted into the Academie (?) [Incidentally, the actress was the female lead in the ‘70’s movie JULES ET JIM, which I saw but remember nothing of]. In a face-to-face interview, this woman revealed that at her age passion should not play a part in anything.

(acerca 1:45 P.M.) The interview with the French actress was conducted my Mike Wallace or Mort Shaffer. I interpreted her “no passion at my age” declaration to mean that any future association I may have with clowning and/or mime must be enterred into as a cerebral enterprise, and not the “Clowning is my life!” nonsense that cause so much trouble in the past. Not only clowning, but any Second Career (let’s not count Bargain Town, o’kay?), including journal-writing. Passion can be as self-destructive as ambition, and neither have any business being on this side of the half-century mark! If either or both did “cross over,” it/they had better get gone before I find out about it: That is, if it/they doesn’t/don’t get me first!
I – along with granny – am currently at Leslie’s house, caring for Kayla while her mother works. I left work shortly before 1:00 P.M. and after circumnavigating the house (outside) with Deah, so she could “potty,”

(acerca 3:34 P.M.) My addiction wasn’t appeased yesterday evening: JAG (8-9:00 P.M., C.B.S.) was the only long period of television-watching. Otherwise it was only servings: WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE? (7-8:00 P.M., A.B.C.) and THE NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER (7-8:00 P.M., P.B.S.). I am o’kay: Really! Today was a rough four hour of work: I am still not pacing myself correctly whenever I work an Eight. I can’t get my muscles to calm down!
A terribly hot, humid first day of Month VIII. Of course this Opening is nothing as to what we will be up against!

(acerca 6:49 P.M.) Yesterday afternoon, while I was on a “break,” sitting against the northern outer wall of CVS, in the driveway that “runs” between CVS and the vacant building to the north, a man (early-40’s/late-30’s) came from the direction of the back of the building, riding a bicycle. After I had sat down, this same guy rode pass me going to the back. I have been “hit on” by enough gays to instinctively “recoil” at a strange man stopping to talk. He lit a cigarette (I was smoking one, also) and started talking about cycling. According to this man, he has three bicycles, is from Ironton, AL, and has been in Childersburg for a little over a year. He congratulated me on being from Childersburg (?!). I discussed biking in this area, that it would be nice if the town had a bike lane to the Grist Mill and the Cave. I talked about Tallahassee, FL, and the bike trail there.
Maybe the guy wasn’t trying to seduce me, but I know how women must feel about men that only think of women as one thing.
Joyce, after visiting with Kayla for a while, had us home by 5:55 P.M. David wanted pizza, so we went by Twosome’s, on the highway, and ordered two. And around 6:20 P.M., I walked behind the grass-gobbler, pushing it into action, and groomed the front yard.
I am still trying to figure out how Charlotte Bronte felt about her sister Emily: In several of her journal selections, she repeats in writing, like a transcript, the conversation of the day. That was just like I did in my early journal entries. Was Emily, therefore, as bad a shape as I was?

(acerca 7:13 P.M.) In other words, was my life style shared by the woman that wrote one of the better novels in literature? If so, it was not as bad as I think. Did Charlotte ever think that “Wuthering Heights” would ever be as “big” as it is? Was she only doing the, what she felt was a losing proposition, out of pity, compassion, and/or love?

(2nd, About 7:18 A.M.) It’s all over between the College Loan Consolidation and me: Last Thursday afternoon a female, telling me she was calling for David, the CLC representative that I ended up with, contacted me by telephone. It seems that I had failed to list my driver’s license number on the application. Having just been to the bank, I was unable to locate my license. Honest! For real! I wasn’t trying to get rid of CLC, even though I later wondered why my driver’s license number was needed for loan consolidation. I told the woman that I must have left the license with the female bank teller, or rather she had forgotten to return it to me. I asked the lady to call back the next day (Friday): When she asked “at what time,” I replied “around 4:00 P.M.,” being that I worked that day.
As of this writing, I have yet to hear from the woman! Or from David! Or from anybody from College Loan Consolidation! Most likely the female told David something like, “This guy [meaning me] has no intentions of subscribing to our services!” And she is right: I regret my initial impulse that “forced me to contact CLC by telephone on that, I think, Friday afternoon following the reception in the post that day of an announcement brochure about the College Loan Consolidation. I guess my staggering debt from both levels of college made me temporarily desperate. And we know what can happen if something is done out of desperation!
CLC sounds too good to be true. And if something seems too good to be true, it usually is.
As tired as I was yesterday evening, both from work and from grass-cutting, I took on the project of serious television such as THE BATTLE FOR KOREA (8-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.). It was most informative, but a wandering mind and teasing by Sleep almost countered the availability of historical information that was provided by the program: I absorbed a lot, but if I had even more mentally alert, just think of the benefits I would have had!

(acerca 9:31 A.M.) It wasn’t that long ago, relatively speaking: Ten or twelve years ago Granny made the declaration that went something like “Poor people are always treated unfairly!” I’m sure that she didn’t articulate it like that: Her grammer and syntax are nowhere near that good. But she no doubt expressed her uppermost concern. Which is why she was – and is – willing to sacrifice me for her own well-being: Life with Joyce is the best she ever had and nothing will separate her from her late-in-life lifestyle! If I wasn’t the one affective, I would be more tolerant of granny’s mentality, as despicable as it is: Imagine! Putting your own comforts before that of your child’s! If nothing else, this proves granny’s unfitness as a parent!
Phoebus is sure to pull the mercury up fifteen or so places from It’s upper-70-degrees (F) resting place It currently occupies, before the day is over! As degrading as Bargain Town is to work at, it could be worse: I could have to pick fruit or perform some manual labor under the hot sun.

(acerca 3:59 P.M.) On the other hand the detail and precision with which Emily Bronte gave to her journal entries may be the reason “Wuthering Heights” is so literarily “tight” and balanced. Maybe her sister was really only the editor.
It was the longest five hours I have ever spent at Bargain Town! The vast majority of the 10:30 A.M. to 3:30 A.M. shift was spent behind the register: And, believe me, I much rather stock the shelves! One really has to be on one’s “toes” with the buyer-“traffic” one confronts!
Hopefully I can re-coup my muscular “losses” in more than eighty-five hours: If I feel like this truck-unloading Monday morning will be “painful”! Maybe I shouldn’t have juggled for thirty minutes this morning, before I want to work. But when else can I do it?
David’s “toy” keyboard, in addition to a piano, also has a drum “machine”: 16-beats, 12-beats, and 8-beats are included in the repertoire. By slowing the drumming down to the slowest speed, I can disert the drumming. Thus I can train myself on different “beats.”
Stay curious, as P.B.S. says.

(acerca 5:37 P.M.) $7 – and 58 cents in tax – I purchased a pair of supposively leather faux-mocecsins this morning. “Supposively,” because of being from Bargain Town and for seven dollars only. And “faux”: The top of the shoes have the appearance of American Indian foot wear, but a rubber sole is attached to each shoe.
I really didn’t want to buy the shoes. However, this morning Louise was pricing many pairs of the faux moccasins, and I, just to make conversation, asked if there was a size “12” in the bunch. There was. The pair was eventually “stored” under the counter: Louise later asked me if I intended to get the shoes. I did. I’m sure that the pair will be much more enthusiastic about my feet than I am about having them there!
Heat did not disappoint us: What a thing to be dependable!

(acerca 7:22 P.M.) It was almost six hours after Kayla arrived here earlier this afternoon that she ended the day’s visit.
While I am on the subject of Kayla: She is at the age when she stutters. Everybody goes through that phase. Most people grow out of it. Unfortunately, I was one of the people that never matured beyond the stuttering point. And at 51 years of age, I rather doubt if I ever can.
Stuttering wasn’t the only thing that I didn’t grow out of: Sexual kinkiness is for the young, to leave behind when one is in his or her late-20’s or early-30’s. But something went wrong in my case.
I held been held hostage by a developmental disorder all these years, huh? So now I must figure out: Did I or didn’t I have a say in the matter when it came to life-maintenance? In other words, how much should I blame myself?

(3rd, About 8:15 A.M.) “Daily Home” carries Ann Landers, and advice column. Yesterday there was a letter for a sixty-plus year old man that admitted he enjoyed many other things better than six. He was asexual.
In 1990 or 1991, Pepe Calderon told me that he didn’t think I was gay, but asexual: If this was a way of saying that I held others things than picking up women with more importance, then I suppose that I am asexual. But if Pepe meant that I didn’t enjoy a good tumble under the sheets, then he was wrong. I never cared to lower myself to the “cheap” women that made themselves available for circus men.
During one of my stays with Richard and Mary Pereles in Louisville, KY, Richard and I discussed the fact that each one of us could take or leave sex, that life didn’t evolve around getting a “piece of ass”!
I was o’kay with EVENING AT POPS (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.): It was “musical research.” But it bothered me that I spent the time in front of the television set watching MYSTERY! “Heat of the Sun” (9-11:00 P.M., P.B.S.) when there is so much for me to read! Tv-viewing, even public television, is becoming too much of a habit, a habit that is “cutting” into more critical pursuits (reading, writing, juggling, keyboard/piano practice).
The day is already up to the high-seventies degrees (F): Six hours hence, what will I report? Phoebus is very much outspoken at the moment: How long will that “speech” last?

(acerca 9:57 A.M.) It’s ironic that I view Louisville, KY, as the best place I have ever lived and the city I would return to in an instant, if given the chance: It was Louisville, KY, where it all damn near ended for me (the arrest for indecent erposure, and the Sunday morning display of m penis to a female, while at a Laudermat). And I think that Alli, the 9-10 year old (?) grand-daughter of Mary Pereles, told her mother about my walking around naked in front of her that night at Mary’s house.
Now that I think of it, when Anita Matlow hinted to me that she seldom allows other people into her “circle,” it was a declaration that a person like me was not suited for a liaison with Anita Matlow. How right she was: I should have taken her advice! Of course Anita Matlow was “open” with most men, who desired a union with her before they came to realize what the situation was with her kids – and what kind of a woman she was.

(acerca 11:30 A.M.) When Kayla enterred this house yesterday afternoon, she immediately stood in the corner of the kitchen (nearest the door) and called herself “horrible.” She would have nothing to do what granny. Kayla kept calling herself “horrible!”, and I asked her who told her that. I was shocked by the episode: And I’m not easily shocked! Leslie remained silent during the entire conversation, leading me to the conclusion that it was she that told Kayla she was “horrible,” and something to the effect that granny (Nee Nee) doesn’t’ like “horrible” people. Kayla somehow associated granny and “horrible,” and so didn’t want to be around her. A lot of stuff happened when I was outside waling Deah around the house, but I understand that Leslie wasn’t going to let her stay.
After Leslie left, I told Kayla she wasn’t “horrible.” Kayla and I “discussed” it so much that soon Kayla repeated over and over “horrible, horrible . . . “ only because I reacted to the word. She really had no idea what it signified.
Kayla ravishly devoured a meal (macarroni and cheese, chicken nuggets) as if she hadn’t eaten all day. And she hadn’t, unless you want to call Corn Curls “food”! Joyce had feed the child a baby “___” meal at lunch, but it appears that Leslie and/or Bill is/are not providing Kayla with the proper diet. The child is under- and malnurous. If Leslie and/or Bill doesn’t watch it, Kayla will be taken from her/him/them.
Would Joyce be willing to lose a daughter in order to gain a grand-daughter? It may well come to that!

(acerca 12:11 P.M.) I never, ever expected Leslie to be a reminder of Anita Matlow, but her relationship with Kayla and her parenting skills are almost an exact duplicate of Anita Matlow!
A 45-minute (approx) toss-around of the Clubs, in the backyard this morning; I almost forgot to bathe Deah. However, two or three minutes into practice I remembered. I can expect more of that short-term memory loss at my age, I suppose, so I had better get use to it.

(acerca 1:27 P.M.) Maybe I’m wrong, but I get the distinct impression that “Vice President” Dick Cheney is President Bush’s boss and is, in reality, the “leader” of the country. And I get the feeling that there are many others that realize the truth. Some are even Republicans!
Kayla is once again in residence, as a reprieve from a dysfunctional home environment. She has been here since around 12:48 P.M.
There’s no doubt that Leslie is a piss-poor mother. But for Joyce to be so critical? I have concrete evidence of Joyce’s horrible mothering. As for granny: There is much more than journal entries to go on!

(acerca 2:19 P.M.) No matter how long I may practice, I will never be able to turn back the clock. I may think that an extended club-juggle session may at least stop the advance of aging, but all it does is to damage my muscular integrity. You are not as old as you feel: You are as old as the calender saids you are!
Kayla ended her in-house presence around 2:17 P.M.
I suppose I should let you know that the day is hot, humid and bright. What else did you expect from Month VIII?

(acerca 3:0_ P.M.) It also seems to me that Congress and the news media are only nice and supportive of George W. Bush because they realize that he is extremely naïve and doesn’t know any better. And that he would cry and stomp his feet if not given his way. I apologize, Al Gore, for questioning your sincerely and integrity.
I may be getting a eight-five cent raise at work: After ninty days, an associate automatically gets $6 an hour. I asked Louise yesterday what would Raleigh do if the minimum wage is upped. Ignoring this question, I was told about the additional money I can expect. However, it will probably be, at the earliest, three more weeks.
Does the ninty-day period include thirteen pay weeks or ninty days of working eight hours? If the latter, the raise would be a long time to come yet!

(acerca 3:54 P.M.) Joyce is very critical of the way Leslie feeds Kayla, as well she should. But is Leslie a “picky” eater to this day? Isn’t that Joyce’s doings?
I promise never to use paper thinner than that which make up this composition book, for journal-writing. A regular spiral notebook has paper that is just not appropriate. It was unfortunate that I had to write in the “standard” paper that I did, but I really didn’t have a choice. But I do now, even if Bargain Town is a long way from where I should be. At least it covrs the expense of my Second Career.

(acerca 6:46 P.M.) Why am I just now reading about the Roman Empire in the encyclopedia? I went all those years not even knowing the simplest detail of Rome, such as: the Parthenon was Ancient Greece, the Pantheon was Roman. And the fact that the arch was a Roman contribution to engineering and architecture. Where were this facts when I needed them? Besides personal gratification, what can they do for me now?
It is as if the sky is unable to hold all the thick clouds! The sky seems to be bursting at the seams! A punture would most likely flood the area: Just think what all of Them together, if breached, can do!

(4th, About 8:17 A.M.) Ancient or post-modernism, that is the question: Should I have studied and researched the Roman Empire yesterday evening, or did I do right in watching ROCK AND ROLL (9:30-10:30 P.M., P.B.S.)? Shouldn’t both periods in the life and times of humankind equally important? This is especially true if our post-modern culture is almost a carbon copy of Roman times. By studying post-modernism, one studies a side of the Roman Empire.
WASHINGTON WEEK (9-9:30 P.M., P.B.S.) was, on the surface, a look into modern society only. But actually the Roman Empire had very similar problems and policies.
While I was between “checking” customers out (not sexually, but commercially), I asked Louise, who was also behind the counter to my right (I was leaned up against the Counter with my butt on the top surface, inside edge. I was therefore facing North, my body parallel to highway 280. Louise had her back to the highway and was at a right angle to me) what was the top-selling item. I introduced this question by stating that if I was doing a dissertation on post- modern archaeology. Upon Louise responding that most people bought at least a candy bar, I replied that a candy bar is not a good way to analyze modern culture.

(acerca 12:50 P.M.) I completed an application on-line for a Production Assistant job at WIAT in Birmingham: It wasn’t officially with the television station, but with an employment agency it uses (General Communications?). I’m still determined that Bargain Town isn’t my last job on earth!
I also sent a letter (the same letter I had e-mailed the Department of Health and Human Services last Saturday, using “copy” and “Paste,” I informed the Social Security agency what was going on) to the Social Security Administration.. By the way, I was informed via e-mail by HHS that the appropriate department would be forwarded my letter. And we all know what that means!
My purchases today was a pack of cigarettes ($1.39), a humanities book from the library book sale (10 cents), and a copy of the letter that I had forwarded (15 cents). I also sent Joyce an e-mail Birthday card – her birthday is Tuesday.
I did my best to avoid the worse of Heat. I started Homeward Bound by 11:30 A.M. (Leslie, leaving Kayla here, took me to the computer center around 8:45 A.M.), but my shirt was “flooded” by Humidity by the time I arrived home (12:30 P.M.). Of course, the walk would have been worse if I had been more dilatory with the trip. Heat, Humidity, and Phoebus are savages! Clouds attempted to close Them out, but the Trio melted through each time.
Three bags of cans and plastic bottles: And one of them was collected even before I got far out of town!
The return of ‘Wuthering Heights” temporarily brings my study of that novel and Emily Bronte to a halt. But I will be back with it, even though 2-3 years may pass before I embrace the novel and author again. And who knows: Study and Research of other areas just may help me to understand “Wuthering Heights” better.
Did I mention the terrible Heat fall? It’s enough for the lower-90-degrees (F)!

(acerca 1:43 P.M.) Everybody is guilty before a trial proves it, except Bobby Cherry! Or at least that the justice of Joyce and granny.
Bobby Frank Cherry has been accused of involvement in the 1963 church bombing in Birmingham that killed four black female children. A judge has recently determined that the formal Klanman, an old man in his 70’s now, is not mentally fit to stand trial. Yeh, right! If racism is behind the judgement is, for the moment, not important. What is, is Joyce’s reaction to it: In every other case, as soon as mention of an arrest of someone by TV news or the newspaper, Joyce and/or granny declares him or her guilty of the crime. Unfortunately neither is unique: The vast majority of “good Americans” are quick to judge. However, in the case of Mr. Cherry, white racists demand a trial to prove his guilt, and state that trialing him would only dis-rupt the racial harmony that Birmingham finally has. I won’t even begin to write about the latter statement: But is “A: is automatically guilty by virtual of arrest, then why is “B” innocent until proven guilty? And it is just as wrong for the black community to pre-judge Mr. Cherry before his day in court as it is for the white community to demand his innocence and release.
Once again it shows the hypocrisy of Joyce and granny, and the type of people they are!

(acerca 4:21 P.M.) Earlier this afternoon Joyce was reading about some of her “1966” high school class mates (even though Joyce completed high school in Goodwater, she is still and always will be, a member of the Class of’66 of Childersburg High School) from a list compiled for the purpose of a class reunion later this year or next year: Many has retired from the military. But one in particular impressed me the most: Bill Jennings, older brother to Mike Jennings of my class, is involved with NATO over in Germany. And I began to feel sorry for myself: What have I done with my life? I have nothing from which to retire and reflect on a job well done.

(acerca 5:00 P.M.) On the other hand, the NATO “gig” that Bill Jennings had could have been a part of a military career, a career from which he is retired. That list is more than likely a year or two old, so Bill may now be separated from the military and NATO. And, too, just because he has a NATO address listed doesn’t mean that he was a spy or anything.

(5th, About 7:47 A.M.) Late yesterday evening Joyce and I watched the beginnings of SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE while awaiting David’s arrival home. The host was one to the stars of WB’s DAWSON’S CREEK: A satire of that show was presented. The music from the program was used as the basic for the satire. Joyce announced that they were “leaning” on the music. I was amazed that she knew that term, or at least what it signifies in tv production and film making. But then I remembered: Her son (David) is a producer at NBC13 (WVTM-TV) in Birmingham. To be honest, I have never heard of “leaning on the music” in reference to using the music and building a news item, drama, or comedy around it, but I quickly caught on.
According to Angie, there will be 240 pieces (boxes) delivered by the truck tomorrow, which will not come (the truck, not tomorrow) until between 11:00 A.M. and 2:00 P.M. Eighty more pieces than last Monday! And that “tore” me up! Will I survive this Monday? A little over twenty-five hours to convince my body not to go out on strike: I hope I can!

(acerca 9:17 A.M.) Joyce and granny took Kayla to Sylacauga yesterday morning while I was at the library, but she (Kayla) was back by 5:20 P.M. And this time she remained at this house – as did I – until 8:19 P.M., or so.
Part of DIAGNOSIS MURDER (8-10:00 P.M., PAX) was watched after she went home. It was the “pilot” for the series, so obviously it was the fifth or sixth repeat. Local news at ten, then SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE: And Saturday was done for.
The day is being warmed by Phoebus. Heat is being recharged by Phoebus and has just begun to abuse the day.

(acerca 11:43 A.M.) I don’t know why, but whenever I study the Roman Empire, I become depressed. Actually I do know why: The things I am only now, at 51 years of age, learning I should have been acquainted with over thirty years ago. Why the developmental retardation? Was I a victim of educational abuse and neglect by the University of Alabama? Or was it self-neglect and – abuse? Are we not all responsible for our own intellectually growth? And isn’t educational abuse and neglect wide-spread: We have all heard of athletes that graduate from college functionally illiterate?
I am haunted by the declaration of Anita Matlow, which went something like this: “Every man that has done me wrong ends up at the bottom!” Sure, I may be more aware of my failures, but does that change the fact that I have “bottomed out”?
On the other hand, Baby Boomers that are retired have a life that is over: They really have nothing to look forward to, except passing the time before death singles them out. Me, though: Since I have never “retired” from anything, I look forward to everything. That is, if conditions (society) will co-operate!
To paraphrase Seneca, the Roman playwright and essayist, who wrote “On Tranquility of Mind,” people that are socially handicapped or “unfit” for anything are better at retirement than at a career.
Is it normal for someone to take thirty years to develop? I’m sure that I’m not unique. And will such a tragedy ever be eliminated from human existence? I doubt it: Such has always been and will always be. I just happen to be one of the ones of modern life.

(acerca 1:46 P.M.) Is there any difference between my practicing piano on David’s toy keyboard and Anita Matlow’s “practicing” her supposively songs she wrote on a Karoke machine? Well, yes there is: I have no pretensions of being a piano player – ever; whereas Anita Matlow thought that she was a real professional song writer. How amateurish she was!
While Joyce and granny were absent from the house grocery shopping at Wal-Mart, I led myself in a club-juggling practice. The lower-90-degrees (F) didn’t let me work-out long, though. It may have been “warning” me that Heat was dangerous. It may have also been saving me for the truck-unloading tomorrow morning: Once I get “behind” clubs or balls I don’t know when to stop. I can’t juggle myself “younger,” so a “greater mind” than mine is needed to order me to cease and desist.

(acerca 6:09 P.M.) I haven’t has a sleep that deep in a long time! I still can’t seem to get my bearing, even after two hours of wakefulness. Undoubtedly I was exhausted!
I returned to the land of the living with the “stomach” of the gods growling and rumbling. I somehow managed to walk Deah before the water was turned loss on us.
Barry is down in the Gulf of Mexico: Not yet a hurricane, the Tropical Storm is distur_ing the Air and Gang this far north. And wouldn’t you know it: Heat is in hiding, being the first to scramble to a shelter. Left behind was the upper-70-degrees (F), who is able to withstand the unwelcome visit by Barry.
Last Friday evening, when I took Deah for her late evening walk around 10:30 P.M., I didn’t have any cigarrettes. So instead of taking her up towards the “Princeton Forest,” I only let her have access to the front yard. But she wanted the former. When the leash prevented that journey, she looked me straight in the “eye” from a distance of 12-15 feet (her head was right angle to her body, her head turned to the right). I be damned if the dog wasn’t communicating something like, “What’s the deal: I want a longer walk than this, dumbass!”

(acerca 7:39 P.M.) Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was like I had sleep deprivation stacked on top on sleep deprivation from weeks back, and the layers were peeled off one at a time. I was walking around asleep. The only reason that I was able to function at all was because I had been hypnatized by life’s activities: Certain things are demanded of me, and I will do them awake or asleep.
So this how it feels to finally to unburdened of 3-4 months of sleep deprivation! I rather like the sensation. Maybe the lightened load plus Barry’s largesse of Coolness will ease the pain of truck-unloading tomorrow!

(6th, About 12:50 A.M.) Am I suggesting that the Roman Empire is the foundation of all knowledge, that study should begin at that point and advance to more specific learning? I suppose I am: It seems to me that knowledge is layered that way. The Roman Empire is the outermost layer – the peel if you will – that must be removed before you can get to the next layer. It takes years to get to the center, many more years than I have. So I doubt seriously if I will even remove a third of the layer.
I knew it would happen: The intense sleep yesterday afternoon used up most of my “appointment” time with the Eyes-shutter late yesterday evening and early this morning. I am not turning to You out of sleeplessness, Journal: I have a lot to tell You, and I may as well get started. It all came as a result of watching JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR (8:00 -10:00 P.M., P.B.S.) – the Alabama Public Television is in the midst of a fund-raiser, so the re-broadcast was inter-rupted several times, and the ending time is only a guess. It was the 30th anniversary production, as I stated after the first broadcast a couple of months ago. There are a lot of theatre critics that will swear that re-doing an old play is a sign that originality is lacking in the theatre. Such is occurring on Broadway at the present, just as such occurred early in the twentieth century. But as I see it, these older plays are just now receiving the technological treatment that they have always deserved. The vast majority of “good” plays are written years ahead of their time and justice can only be done to them when they are presented in the best light (no pun intended) possible. If that means updating them technologically every ten years or so, then so be it: It is not an indication that “good” plays can or are not be/being written anymore.
Was Jesus a failure in life? There were many, many street ministers in Isreal in the first century. And I doubt if Jesus was even one of the better ones. If not for Paul and other people, the Jesus Movement would have died with Jesus. So much for Aristophanes statement that posthumous fame is the cruelest kind a person can have!

(acerca 7:30 A.M.) When creating a character or characters for literature and/or drama, all one has to do is copy directly from today’s culture and then start taking away: People have always, and will always, be the same. It’s only the influence of, principly, technology and how he/she/they respond to it that differeniate people from different time periods.
For instance, say you want to create (or recreate) society and people from the 1870’s: You would simple take society and people from 2001 and substract, first, computers, then – in order – television, automobiles, airplanes, telephones, Sigmund Freud, etc, everything that defines modern society and the modern/post-modern person. Although it‘s not as simple as it sounds.
I realize that the Stanislawski (?) method of acting has been abused and mis-interpreted for years, ever since the “style” was created is Moscow. But the above is probably closer to the truth than most people realize. Playwrights, authors, and directors are especially affected by such character-genesis. As for actors: Well as I have been told, you should portray Hamlet the way you would react to the same circumstances that Shakespeare had hovering around the play. We are all Hamlet, only the evolution of science, technology, and history have buried our Hamlet: Method acting, whether applied to the stage of to the ___e, is, to me, is an exhumation of that Hamlet.
Kayla’s hours yesterday: 4:43 until 7:32 P.M. give a minute or two.
There is a protective dome over us, curtesy of Barry. Barry wants to be able to have a controlled environment and that means getting rid of ruly elements such as Phoebus, Heat, etc. Truck un-loading just may be foremost on Barry’s mind: That may be the reason He is in the area to begin with. If so, I thank him with all my heart.

(acerca 9:31 A.M.) “On a wonderful day like today . . .!” If water continues to fall from the sky for truck-unloading, what a great time for all! Even better if the Drops get “blowed” up! I love you, Barry!

(acerca 3:04 P.M.) Barry has sent out Special Forces to get to us: This area is not quite far north to escape His reach. Rain was given the contract – the commission – to show us that even 300 miles is no protection.
For some reason it was difficult to “shift” into Bargain Town mode this morning: I strongly suspect writing and the Roman Empire are to blame. From a king to a jack, to reverse the “From a Jack to a King” country song of years ago.
The lifting boxes and stacking them on a handtruck is not the problem: It’s the coming down the ramp that is hell. Even a load of 3-4 boxes weighs more than I do, and I can only get the hand truck down the ramp by forcing my body in the opposite direction, back up the ramp. My back pays for this tug-of-war victory. This “ain’t” twenty-five years ago, you know! Those two-truck weeks will be awful! I hate to even think about them!

(acerca 4:47 P.M.) I probably laughed myself to sleep last night (or this morning). I no doubt laugh myself exhausted, or what’s more likely Sleep decided that the only way to stop my giggling fit was to give in and knock me off. Tony ”Fatboy” Baxley: It sounds like some gangster, huh? Every time I thought of Fatboy – Joyce’s cat – receiving mail, I would have to suppress my laughing with the blanket. I would subscribe to something, filling out the order form with Tony “Fatboy” Baxley. It may not be funny to you but it is hilarious to me!

(7th, About 7:58 A.M.) Each time I learn something, a tiny pebble is removed from a column that support a terribly heavy weight. It started out, more than 51 years ago, high above my head. I live in fear that the weight will overpower the support (there are two, one on either side) and come crashing down on me. By all right this should have happened years ago, but things didn’t go right for me.
What’s out there to be learned is pressure that seems to be slowly increasing. Every time I pick up new data, instead of decreasing as one would think, the weight only gets heavier. There is, therefore, no way to lighten the load.
Some authors – more than you think – spend/have spent months on choosing just the right word to give a novel the punch that would make/have made it a novel of exceptional merit. I am trying to capture the sensation of the mental aggravation the results from a perception of having been cheated in the pursuit of intellectual attainment. Running at full speed I keep seeing the distance between the Frontrunner (Knowledge) and me ever increasing. I know if I stop to rest it would have no chance, yet the more I “run,” the futher I get behind. I may as well stop, though I can’t or won’t, for some reason. If I truly were smart, I would stop: I may win by stopping. I sure can’t the way things are going.
Here I go again! Wish me luck!

(acerca 9:21 A.M.) I received a telephone call from David of College Loan Consolidation: He needed to know my driver’s lincense number. I read it to him. I sure hope CLL didn’t forge or photocopy my signature to the promissory note that I intentionally forget to sign. If the consolidation happens, then I will know what kind of a organization College Loan Consolidation is.
Barry hasn’t follow-through on His Threat: He seems to have just left in the middle of things, just when all was getting good. The Clouds have remained in place, wondering what’s up with Barry. They are leaderless and don’t know what to do.

(acerca 7:36 P.M.) FAMILY LAW (9-10:00 P.M., C.B.S.) – for it was the concluding part of a 2-parter – was witnessed privately; WEAKEST LINK (8-9:00 P.M., N.B.C.) and 7TH HEAVEN (7-8:00 P.M., WB) were Family Bonding/Quality Time programs that I sat through in the Family Room. With this I bring you up-to-date with my “research” into Modern Culture.
Barry may have departed the Gulf of Mexico, but He hasn’t left the area: He passed through Childersburg around 5:15 P.M., this afternoon, and stationed Storm and Rain in town. Martial Law oversees Dr__s as I write.
Previous to the arrival of Barry, Humidity had “warmed up” the people: My glasses fogged up went I went outside. If there was some sort of conspiracy to keep me in Bargain Town, where boredom _u_ie me, it didn’t work.
Will Barry like this area so much that He will be slow leaving? Surely not for the former, but as to the latter? Most likely so!

(8th, About 8:21 A.M.) Something about a naked man that had no penis, no testes, no hair covering his pubic area. This “dream” came when I was semi-awake? Any more information would probably be speculation, so I won’t add anymore to the mental movie.
Exhaustion from work – even non-truck-unloading days are physically stressful – resulted in a fantastic sleep session: Even the part-sleep period was hard to give up. So why did I leave my bed so early on a non-working day? One reason is because I hate to get into the habit of staying in bed past 8:00 A.M. And then I have writing, reading, and the business of neglect by lawyers (I plan on including Ken Rodgers in on the legal abuse of power), a back log of which awaits my attention on all three counts. As much as I would like to enjoy a non-working day, such doesn’t seem possible, no matter how hard I try. After this long I wouldn’t know what to do with one, anyway.

(acerca 10:04 A.M.) Barry is still keeping the sky crowded with Clouds. Either Rain or Storm, or both, is/are out to change things. Heat is under house arrest, and Barry has a troop of soldiers surrounding It’s house, only letting out enough of Heat’s family that promise not to take arms against Barry. (continued)




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