Phillip Wilson

Amazingly, I survived my Life
2011-09-30 00:02:26 (UTC)

2001 REVIEW (PART TWENTY-SIX)

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

(acerca 9:52 A.M.) This is what I remember of two different conversations from two different events: It was in Gadsden, AL, a filming session of the Center for Public Television. Carolyn (?) Hale was the producer/director, the videographer was – I forget his name. I was the “crew.” We were in Gadsden to film Jerry something or other, an African-American blues singer that had put out some records, toured Europe, and been interviewed by A and E (?) and Discovery Channel.
Three different rooms housed us. The morning after I attempted to phone the videographer. No answer. In semi-panic, I called the director, telling her the situation. She told me that maybe the videographer was in the shower. So I called back: and sure enough, he had been in the shower!
Another time, I was involved in a “shooting” at the northern edge of the University of Alabama campus, only this time I was in front of the camera. Dale Owen was the director. It was a segment for the Intergrated Science 6 (or was it 7) series. My character, Slim, was a mechanic, a co-worker of another male.
Previous to filming under a shelter, I had told Dale at the location just before moving that Jackson Brown, a rock singer from the late-60’s/early-70’s, would pretend, on stage during one of his concerts, to swipe a turd (feces) and lick that finger. Dale repeated what I had said to the videographer.
Ocassionally conversations of long ago become clear to me. I am able to recreate almost exactly these moments. Somethings I wish I couldn’t: Many of these “Blast from the past”’s are painful! But I can’t let that stop me! No pain, no gain: There really is something to that. Damn, who would have thought that I would be able to overcome myself? Jacob did, indeed, beat the lord in the desert!

(acerca 11:07 A.M.) Another Dale Owen tid bit: It was the same location (in 1995) of the Jackson Brown retelling. I had stated that the Kenny Rodgers/Dolly Parton hit “Castles in the Air” (“Sail away with me, to a different world . . .”) had been written by the Bee Gees, the group from the 1960’s that is still active in the rock music field. The declaration was immediately retold to the Camera man. Most likely neither this statement nor the one about Jackson Brown was thought to be true: Dale was that type of smart-ass!
Yesterday evening I saw a special report on Afganistan (10-11:00 P.M., CNN). It was supposively a video secretly recorded. The documentary was about the ruling Taliban, the people believed behind the recent terrorist attack. I also watched the final 25 or so minutes of the Discovery – or rather The Learning Channel – ‘s program on space travel. It is my sincere hope that either or both will be rebroadcast. (TLC’s airing was 9-10:00 P.M.)

(acerca 12:08 P.M.) Yesterday afternoon I was busy in Bargain Town’s stockroom when my attention was diverted by Kathy: A young male was standing facing me about thirty feet away (15 or so feet from the stockroom door). Believe it or not, I didn’t recognize my own nephew at first. But it was David: Scott, his Best Friend, was with him. “We got a problem!” David said. He asked if he could borrow a hand truck. To move a washer and dryer, he said. I loaned him the most sturdy one.
We got a problem? I don’t think so! Although I was having a rather difficult time in finding room for all the toys Raleigh had sent. And I still haven’t! I doubt if I ever will!

(acerca 2:32 P.M.) I don’t know why it happens, but every time I see scenes of Central Park on SESAME STREET I miss living in New York City: And I have never lived there, only visited. Maybe, like most people, New York City represents the life I never had: I have already told you that most of the so-called “patriotism” and hatred for the terrorists are by-products of people’s dreams being destroyed. Sometimes dreams are the only thing to which people can cling.
In reality, however, New York City is not the ultimate lifestyle. As a youngish white male told me years ago (I think I was touring with Carson and Barnes Circus), one shouldn’t even aspire or desire to live in New York unless one had to for work. I tend to agree that he knew what he was talking about.
It was either Horace Pope, a middle-age white male that served as my teacher in the 8th or 9th grade, or “Bear” Bryant on Tv, or possibly both, that suggested that New York City was the center of everything – business, publishing, sports, etc.
Sour Grapes or the truth: All this clamor about New York City is nothing but “Sound and fury, signifying nothing!” Success is not tied to living and working in New York City.

(acerca 3:57 P.M.) Around 6:00 P.M., yesterday, I were in the stock room examining the “cache” of toys Bargain Town must somehow put out on the “floor” for Christmas shoppers: I heard my name, and turned to my left. Joyce was standing there. She said that the hand truck was out in her car. I went with her and brought it back home.
Deah finally smells like a “dish” again: I bathed her in the bath tub this morning using detergent. I also took care of my “assigned” juggling duties with a 20-minute Club outing and about a half-hour with the Bean Bags.
What a beautiful day it is and has been: Warm (the mid-80-degrees [F]), sunny, clear. However, as with a_ this jingoism and display of patriotism, it won’t last: Fall will start to go it alone, as an independent agent. As will people start damning President Bush when sons, daughters, husbands, wives, etc, come home in Body Bags. Recall the Vietnam War anti-war song: “Hey mothers, be the first on the block; to have your son come home in a box!” People will also turn against Bush if the “war” drags on for more than six months, and if the terrorists are not found and killed – and soon.
Talk about dumb luck! President Bush may swear that he is not using this attack to further his own career. But how can he avoid not doing so? It is the nature of the office!
It should never had happened! But it did, and it came way too early in George Bush’s presidency: In three years people will turn on him. And when they do, it will be vicious!

(acerca 6:51 P.M.) Do people – especially President Bush – not realize that the more pray_ is used as a “weapon” against terrorist attacks, the more hate crimes there will be? Organized religion – Judaism, Christianity, Islam – is socially divisive, and not the unifier that it should be. Can’t humankind do anything without the “crutch” of God?

(24th, About 5:38 A.M.) Let’s start off the day with a dose of Rain. Other stuff will be added throughout the day.
The final forty-five minutes of AFRICA (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was the extent of my involvement with the mini-series yesterday evening due to the fact that Joyce and granny arrived shortly before 8:00 P.M., home for helping David move (to Shelby County, near where he lived pre-Wichita Falls) and with food from McDonald’s. I had seen national news (5:30-6:00 P.M.) on A.B.C. and N.B.C. earlier, but I used yesterday unlike most of my off days: I read. “The Story of Art” by E.H. Gombrich specifically. This 1948 book is great for humanists: Not so much a technical manual describing “Art” down through the ages, it tells the social foundation and maturation for “art.” I only wished I had access _ an updated version of the book.

(acerca 6:20 A.M.) The question is: Why is Joyce so critical of my egg-cooking? It happens every Monday: For truck-unloading energy, I usually seek the assistance of scrambled eggs. It’s always the same: “It smells (or looks) like they are burning!”, just because there is a slightly brown residue covering a portion of the bottom of the frying pan. I don’t know if Joyce resents my egg-cooking ability – it probably is better than hers and that she can’t have from her own brother – or the fact that I use eggs at all.

(acerca 5:01 P.M.) He/she who wants a fifty/fifty partnership should not turn to marriage! There’s no such thing as equal between a married couple. At least I have yet to find one! Sixty/forty, seventy/thirty, maybe: But fifty/fifty? Only in your dreams!
Now, now: I mustn’t let Anita Matlow “sour” me on marriage! For not all women are the same! Lemons fall in the least expected place!

(acerca 5:33 P.M.) Nobody told Phoebus that It didn’t suppose to report in this afternoon. So It showed up, but upon being told of the non-workday, It left the sky. And It hasn’t been back since.
Why were You so quick to believe “them” when They told You not to report to work: An Evil So_erer was hired in Your place! A horrible “brew” was concocted and poured over the area: Out-of-control winds, black Clouds, drizzle. I figured Fall would turn on us, but I had no idea if would be this soon, the second full day of Its administration!

(25th, About 6:12 A.M.) Early Sunday afternoon, discussing that day’s plans in regards to helping David move, Joyce told me that she and granny would be going up to his new house around 3:30 P.M., and that David would be coming down here around 4:30 P.M. I could go back with him: That is, if I wanted to. As always I just sat there, emotionless.
Later Joyce went someplace (not David’s) by herself. I was in my room when granny shouted from the hall side of the door, “Come here, I want to speak with you!” (most likely those were not her exact words). So I opened the door halfway: Granny asked me why I weren’t going back with David. I said I were when he came down! Then granny accused me of shrugging my shoulders and responding, “Whatever!” to Joyce’s “edict” concerning David’s travel plans. I reply that I did no such thing, that I hadn’t reacted at all. And as far as I knew, I hadn’t.

(acerca 6:38 A.M.) By 4:15 P.M. I was all dressed to go.
By 5:15 P.M., I was still waiting.
By 6:15 P.M., I were beginning to get worried.
Upon asking what happened to David, Joyce - she and granny had returned home around 7:45 P.M. – replied that he had been too tired to make the trip. In addition, Scott, David’s friend, had stayed longer than expected. There was no telephone to call: David had yet, at that time, to have had one installed. When I had asked about the car phone, Joyce “hemmed and hawed” and said something about the phone being in her car, not David’s pick-up: The latter is not true.
If David didn’t want me around, why not just tell me? But it’s funny he wanted “my” hand truck around!
This episode only highlights the fact that I am unable to get things down because my “supporters” never come through! What good are ambition, perserverance, drive, etc, when the final stage of a project depends on outside forces, forces that you have no control over?
This is the reason that I didn’t do a “flip” when Joyce had told me about the outing: Why get my hopes up only to be betrayed by the person? Even though I were the victim, I couldn’t help but think how pathetic the situation was!

(acerca 7:2_ A.M.) Welcome back, Upper-40-degrees (F)! It’s been a while! Your caresses felt oh, so good! But we must beware: I have a feeling that Fall is trying to distract us while It does Its murderous ways!
I’m getting a strange feeling about what happened last Sunday! Surely it wasn’t done intentionally!

(acerca 6:49 P.M.) Nary a Cloud interrupted one of the better speeches Day had made this year! The speech was written by the newest member of the speech-writing team, Fall. The speech had it all: Clearness, plenty of shine, a seductive coolness. A terrific speech!
Remember in Modern Humanities, a part of the subject was the impact of Charles Darwin and evolution on modern and post-modern culture? Up to that point I really hadn’t thought much about the matter. But since the re-introduction I the Spring semester of 1998, I have taken every opportunity that comes my way to research the connection between Charles Darwin and the New World Order. That includes the audio-visual mechanism of yesterday evening: The first installation of EVOLUTION (8-9:56 P.M., P.B.S.). As a humanist, I don’t need to go any deeper into the subject: And the show took me just as far as I should go.
I also saw the final forty minutes or so of the NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER and, out in the Family Room, the first twenty minutes or so of 7TH HEAVEN, both programs of the 7-8:00 P.M. broadcast slot, the former on P.B.S., the latter on WB.
It’s not right to go more than two days without juggling: I feel I owe at least that much to It, considering how much It has done for me (?). Si it was with pleasure that I devoted 32-33 minutes of my pre-work period to the “trick.” I know it isn’t much, but it’s the best I can do. You know I would do more if I could!

(26th, About 6:59 A.M.) I’m not going to have that extra half-hour this morning: I stayed in bed too long.

(acerca 7:39 A.M.) Thanks, 80-degrees (F), for all Your help! Enjoy Your 7-8-month vacation!
The mid-40-degrees (F) are moving in and beginning to mass just outside the city gates. Soon we will be overrun by Them! We won’t be able to keep Them out, even in the afternoon!
Since I doubt I will have more than this one shot at you – a one-shot day – being that I work from 9-7:15, I will declare my television of yesterday evening: A_ yesterday, the first forty minutes __ of the NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER (7-8:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was the first program of the day to take over my attention. and prepared me for what followed: Two-hour episode of EVOLUTION (8-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.). Only now am I realizing that the vast majority of the programs on public television handle subjects from a humanistic perspective: With the possible exception of NOVA, the h__ and/or __ _ph__l information are only on a “need to know” bases, the remainder of the air time devoted to the way or ways in which the subject is under investigation related to the contemporary society and culture, and the way or ways in which the subject has contributed or influenced modern and post-modern society and culture. Maybe public Tv has always been that way and only now am I noticing it, but the P.B.S. programming is damn good follow-up on graduate school! Public television is not only video resource for “advance” studies in the Humanities: There’s A and E, TLC, CNN, The Discovery Channel, etc.

(acerca 7:52 P.M.) Another day without Clouds! Have They been dismissed by Fall? Or have They resigned in protest over the promotion of Cool!
A long, long nine-and-a-half hours! My longest work day at Bargain Town to date!

(27th, About 7:37 A.M.) Today (it may started yesterday evening) is the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. In 1980, during the filming of the movie KENT STATE, at Jacksonville State University and Gadsden State Community College, a young white male – he wore glasses – named Jerome or Jerald Schwartz was the assistant director. The holiday is not on the same date, according to the Christian calender, every year: Sometimes it is the first part of September, sometimes it is even a part of October.
According to this Schwartz guy, it is pronounced Yom KIP pur; according to Leonard Nimoy on a public radio announcement, the holiday is usually emphasized on the PUR: Yom Kip PUR. I doubt if the former was even Jewish: Just because his last name was Schwartz doesn’t mean anything. Here he was, down in Alabama among the backwoods, none-too-bright people, people that think a last name determines religious status: For to them Judaism is a race. All Schwartzs, therefore, are Jewish.
The third installment of EVOLUTION (8-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was my sole television “research” yesterday evening. Hell, I work hard for my money and I deserve to relax in front of a no-brainer facility!

(acerca 8:45 A.M.) Coming home (my home on Princeton Drive) yesterday evening around 7:2_ P.M., Bill told me that I was on television yesterday afternoon: It seems as if THE PHANTOM OF HYPE is still be shown publily after it was made six years ago. I doubt if the Center for Public Television ever thought that the short film would be as popular as it has been! Most likely Dale Owen, the writer/producer/director, was only trying to fellow the “directive” of the studio head by allowing a pathetic loser to do the only thing he can do. Dale handed me a Halloween costume, that’s how much faith he had in the project. I surprised and amazed everyone when I created a more professional wardrobe: Dale wasn’t the only one in on the conspiracy.
Would a sequel to THE PHANTOM OF HYPE do more harm than good? Should I just leave Phantom alone and let it stand as an example of my artistic output?
Another awe-inspiring day: Although the 40-degrees (F) weren’t as low-down as yesterday, Fall is still more than pleased with Them.

(acerca 9:20 A.M.) It was sometimes in the 1970’s; it was on some variety or talk show. I was someplace besides Childersburg. The late Orson Wells, an actor, was being scrutinized by a camera. He was standing up: If I recall, his shoulders was favoring stage left/camera right, his head turned so that he looked straight ahead.
“Performers are a third sex!”, is something that Mr. Wells said at the time. He, I’m sure, didn’t realize what he was saying at the time, but the post-modern “policy” is to question why there are only two gender Classifications. Sure, Male and Female are very much different anatomically: No doubt the separate labels were “invented” for the convenient of studying that difference. But Male/Female don’t come close to describing people psychologically and spiritually! Is gender a way of thinking, or the presence of a penis or breasts?

(acerca 11:03 A.M.) I am writing this sub-entry from Suds ‘n Duds, a washeteria on highway 280: My purpose or being here is to give a cleaning to Deah’s bedding. Joyce, through granny, has expressed reluctance to have the things serviced in her new washing machine.
I have just transferred the bedding to a dryer. Washing was one dollar (four quarters). So far, one quarter has gone for drying.
While the things were being washed, I walked up to the convenient store – about a hundred feet north – and purchased a $1.39 pack of cigarettes.
For a small town, this laundremat, the only one in Childersburg, is not bad: It is large, clean, and, as far as I can tell, the machines are in good operating conditions.
Several years ago – in the mid-1980’s (?) – I read an article in a magazine that Steve Holt received each month (“World [?]) that reprinted by-lines and news clippings from around the world: It was a “clearing house” of sorts from the print media of other countries. I was at the Holt home in the South East Lake section of Birmingham. I think the article was from a newspaper of the former Soviet Union or Yugoslavia, but don’t quote me on that. The article was about a man who had an incurable speech impediment: He presented mime and clowning. According to the reprinted article, the expressive power of his face was incredible. He had to do manual labor most of his life.
Sounds familiar? You see, I am far from alone in my situation!
What a gorgeous, clear day it is: Warm, Cloudless, sunny!

(acerca 3:02 P.M.) Robert Clifton, Jo Clifton, Mary Pereles, Richard Pereles, Cindy Lukas, Mary Holt, Steve Holt: I had to had been crazy to be associated with any of these people! And to have been engaged to the likes of Anita Matlow! That I attracked these types of individuals is proof enough that I was a pathetic low-life!
Not only did the laundromat provide me with a venue for cleaning Deah’s bedding, but I also saw El Presidente speak live on television! I wouldn’t have otherwise: I seldom turn on the “intruder” during the day. The set at the Wash House was hung from the north west corner and Fox 6 was emanating from the box. Of course the speech – outside to a “real” bunch of people – was about the terrorist attack: George Bush would be a fool if he didn’t “milk” that tragedy for all the political advantages he can get from it! He will never get such a “lucky strike” again!
It’s not racism on Louise’s part: She really does do it! I am 99% sure that Kathy stoled my box cutter Tuesday afternoon! Having found it Tuesday morning, I had placed it on an unopened box while I was looking to see what was in another on. Kathy, who is the acting manager in Louis’s absence, was hurrying me to “move some boxes.” The next thing I knew the cutter was gone: Not only mind, but the orange (mine was also orange) box cutter belonging to Louis. Kathy had been carrying the latter around in her pocket, although I had used the “razor blade” and had placed it on an unopened box, too. But now that the stock of toys, etc, have been lessened, as of yesterday, I still can’t find the box cutters. The only other person back in the stockroom as I was looking for merchandise to take to the “floor” was Kathy.

(acerca 3:39 P.M.) I got to hand it to Kathy: She is smart when it comes to stealing! This church-going, all-American woman that she throws on people is just a smoke-screen!
Kathy said to me, “These boxes aren’t moving!” I asked her why was there so many empties out in back: She answered something evasive, about the boxes being from another store. So I exclaimed in an angry, smart-ass tone, “I haven’t done anything this morning I guess!”
Kathy was panicking and not thinking: Most of what she put out will have to be moved. A lot of the stuff I was waiting until what was already out to sell down before I replaced it. As a result of Kathy’s “rush,” I was hurried. And my distraction opened the “gate,” giving her time to steal. Without a search warrant it would be hard to make a case against Kathy: That is, unless one of her children or male visitors commit a criminal act with one of the box cutters.
I sent a $50 check to Sallie Mae this afternoon: With over $35000 indebtness, fifty dollars will have no effect, will it?
That consolidation I half-heartedly made application for several weeks back: As I was hoping nothing came of it. Most likely Sallie Mae and UNIPAC laughed in CSL’s face when presented with the unsigned promissory note! At least, that was what I was hoping for!

(acerca 4:35 P.M.) No e-mail messages: None, that is, except “span” (junk mail). I found such out when I went to the library after Deah’s things had been washed and dried (By the way, I spent two quarters on the heat & tumble machine). I also read about Charles Darwin and evolution on the P.B.S. web site: There is still much more to cover but other things besides computers clamor for my time whenever the top-of-the-list Bargain Town temporarily lets me have my freedom. Like juggling: I just finished a 34-minute work-out with the Bean Bags. For with the PHANTOM OF HYPE as popular as ever, I must be ready at a moment’s notice to answer a call for more masterful clown presentations.
A Mr. Cook was at the store on Tuesday: Mr. Cook is something to do with safety or loss prevention at all of Variety’s stores. Each store is graded. While I was stocking toys on the ledge lining the back wall (stockroom left as you enter) Kathy told me that points were deducted for a ladder being anywhere on the “floor.” I was well aware of that. I countered with, “Points are also deducted for not having the alarm of the back door on!” Well, not exactly that, but the “alarm of the back door” was highlighted. Kathy said it was turned on. When I added the bar had to be down, she said that it was. But when I eventually went to the stockroom, the bar wasn’t down nor the alarm on! Kathy had lied!
The store made a 90 on the inspection. And guess what the ten percentage points were lost for? Yep, the back door! (In the event of fire, the back door would be a fire exit. When activated, an alarm sounds when the back door is opened, supposively preventing theft. Yeah, right!). No wonder Kathy hates me!

(acerca 5:51 P.M.) Did I do Circus due to how I were (and to an extent still am) or did the Circus make me like I were (and to an extent still am)? In other words, did doing Circus create me? Was my “career” choice visceral or cerebral (why in the world would a sane, together person cerebrally do circus?)? Years ago some one told me (was it the Wise One, Robert Clifton?) that, sure I could drive a truck or do mechanics, but I lack the mentality for such occupations. Was this a compliment or a “put down”?
There may be something to heredity as the major controlling force in a person’s life. On the other hand, if by doing Circus I made a Faustian deal with the devil, environment is the cynosure. Charles Darwin left a lot of questions unanswered!

(28th, About 7:05 A.M.) My right hand was the last thing the box cutters saw: They disappeared only after I had used them. So maybe I am refusing to accept the blame and turning to Kathy Keith as a convenient “scape goat.” I have been brainwashed into believing that if anything is missing from the store, it is Kathy’s doings. Until I am sure that I suffer some tendency to misplace things, especially box cutters for some strange reason, I suppose I should forego the undercover operation I was about to launch!
Deah’s bedding may be nice and fresh, but mine “ain’t”: I were attack by so many fleas that Sleep became disgusted and stomped out of my bedroom. And with a nine hour day ahead of me, I needed the companionship of Sleep. If you recall I had similar problems in Tallahassee: What a way to relive Old Times!
The fourth and final installment of EVOLUTION (8-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was transmitted to my brain yesterday evening, as was the final twenty-five minutes of the NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER (7-8:00 P.M., P.B.S.).
And for what may be the last words for today: A fall-like mid-40-degrees (F) covers the area. Correction: It is not fall-like, fut the real Fall!

(acerca 8:40 A.M.) I did a brief practice on the piano yesterday evening: In his book, “A Brief History of Time” (?), Steven Hawkins, who now, because of Lou Gehrig’s disease, is only a living brain, made the declaration that if he had been more discipline, he would have formed a bond with a musical instrument. He was too lazy.
I don’t know if I told you about this, but Carrie Sandhl’s Bibliography and Research (?) class had a Field Trip to ACNS – the computer center for Florida State University. The place is 6-7 miles from campus. After a short computer-search course, I rode back to the campus with – damn, I forgot his name! But he was the nicest one of my “theatrical” comrades; a Ph.D. student; long hair; married; a child; wife use to work in New York State for the Lucille Ball Museum; lived close to me when I live on Delview Drive; drove a dark brown van.
I suppose to have been supplying directions back to F.S.U.: The first turn, a right, was missed (the first turn from ACSN, across from some mineral company). We ended up by TCC – Tallahassee Community College on Pensacola Avenue: I made the remark that TCC was on our left. The male, the driver, was aware of that fact.
Pensacola Avenue “goes” through the campus and to the east (left) of the stadium (one passes it on one’s right).

(acerca 8:45 P.M.) There on the battery display turn box was – none other than Louise’s orange box cutter! I saw it on the ledge this morning. Shortly thereafter, I came upon mine: While shelving the flowers (vase of Poinsettias, with a handle? Floral mirror?), it appeared before my eyes! Apparently it “hid” while I was hurriedly opening boxes to see what was contained therein. I owe Kathy an apology: Since I only accused her in this journal, I will apologize in this journal. “I am so sorry for wrongly accusing you of something that I did! Please forgive me! I will try to never do it again!”
For the – what? sixth day in a row, the Clouds has been absent from the sky: Are They ill or what?


(29th, About 8:07 A.M.) It was one of my better investments of recent years. And it was less than $3.50! (I think: I don’t have the receipt at this writing)!
I went next door yesterday early afternoon to CVS (the left of Bargain Town as you exit) and purchased a squeeze bottle of Natrapel Insect Repellent. I covered most of my body with it before retiring yesterday evening. And, you know? the fleas stayed away from me, at least until I fell asleep. However, there still remains a major barrier to uninterrupted slumber: I partake of too much liquid before seeking nocturnal refuge in bed and my bladder issues an unwelcomed Wake-up Call. Very seldom am I able to find Sleep in bed when I return for the bathroom.
I also paid a dollar (and eight cents) for four Super Energy Extra Heavy Duty “AA” batteries: Bargain Town was honored with that sale.
There is a beautiful African American female that works at CVS: She is, I guess, early- to mid-thirties. Several times she has smiled at me and started a conservation. Yesterday, while at the check-out counter buying the insect-avoider, this female asked me if I had any kids. Does this lovely creature know that I am almost twenty years her senior? Does she even care? Should I be more “open” to her?
Yesterday’s business activities began when I took a stack of journal volumes to The Print Shoppe downtown to be rebound. This is my first step in assuring that my journal is given “eternal life”: You never know what this “new war” that the United States is launching against the promoters of the New York/Pentagon attack may lead to. Am I overreacting by getting my things in order?

(acerca 9:52 A.M.) WASHINGTON WEEK (9-9:26 P.M., P.B.S.) and TELL ABOUT THE SOUTH (9:30-10:30 P.M., P.B.S.) were the extent of my study via electronic medium yesterday evening. Non-work days mornings and afternoon are spent in front of the Printed Word: My own and someone else’s.
I continue to be bothered by my falsely accusing Kathy of theft! Now I wonder how incorrect I have been in my interpretation and analysis of the people that had a place in my past: Maybe it’s time for a revision of the part each played in my development or lack of development. Obviously, in order not to be more pathetic that I were, I transfer a lot to others. I know these people were bad, but am I overdoing it just a little? Am I softening the blow of reality at the expense of others?

(acerca 1:0_ P.M.) If I am to have any chance at a Come Back, I had better get with the right people! One of the reasons that I don’t feel sad about becoming divorced from all my so-called “friends” is the past is that I got what use I could of each one, and none of them are able to contribute anything else to my personal and/or artistic development. I must become involved with people that are able to do something for the new and improved Phillip Wilson, and by extension, Luigi. If it takes 5-6 more years, it will take 5-6 more years!
I must get over the stress caused by realizing that I have wasted so much, that I could have been a “star” at something if only . . .
It is this ”if” that is eating me alive! I have a feeling that the vast majority of this current “round” of fag-waving patriotism is the result of people trying to escape similar life-threatening beliefs.
How lovely is this penultimate day of Month IX! It’s visit in the year seem awful brief, though the stay was as long as Month Month IV and Month VI.

(acerca 3:51 P.M.) Late yesterday afternoon lack of sleep was about to overpower me: There was still 2-3 more hours of work ahead of me. In addition I had gotten myself into a state of sexual excitement, thinking of the missed opportunities for sex with – of all people – Mary Pereles. So to relieve my pent-up sexual frustration and to hopefully wake me up, I took three paper towels and a mirror to the Bin area – in back where the Christmas stuff had been before I carried it out to the “floor” earlier in the week – and dropped my trousers, underpants, and assumed the position. But alas, I was unable to ejaculate! Most likely the “cum” wouldn’t come because, One, I don’t want to get into the habit of work place “relief,” and, Two, I am trying my damnest to rise above that kind of abnormal life style. It’s one thing to do it in the privacy of my room! It is more “acceptable” under that circumstances. But at Bargain Town? Get real! As for regret over the times I didn’t “jump” (no pun intended) at sex when I had easy access to it: I should be more concerned at the “career” opportunities that I allowed to slip by me! The latter hurts so bad to think about, it could be that self-protection makes me dwell on the former. Although that, too, hurts!
There are Clouds in the sky this afternoon! Nice to see “Y’all,” Clouds! Fall didn’t seem the same without “Y’all”!
My rectal bleeding was only temporary: I guess I can expect 3-4 days of bloody toilet paper every so often for the rest of my life.
Kayla was over here for about two hours this morning: Given my work schedule this week, it was the first time I was around her in 6-7 days. Therefore, it was more of a treat than usual.

(acerca 4:4_ P.M.) Should I keep analyzing the past and attempt to correct, or redo, what I did wrong? Or should I begin anew as if the past hadn’t occurred? Is it futile to think that I can “do it again”? There is so much to “do again,” can I ever get to all of it? I wouldn’t ignore the past, but I would just let the past stay where it is and try to have it report to my “office” for a personal talk. Maybe only sado-masochists want to redo their past, for the thrill of the challenge and pain. Well, there are other challenges out there: Why limit myself?

(acerca 6:50 P.M.) A 32-minute juggling practice: For every minute counts. And no, I haven’t given up plans for a Come-Back. If I am call, I will serve.
More self-training on the piano: Do you realize that before I had a clear and precise idea – an idea that I was able to support with books and articles – of the connection between music and math I would explain to people – and this was as late as four years ago! – that a person doesn’t play or sing a sixteenth note as such. Only if the sixteenth note is a part of a known and established rhythum can the 1/16 of it be played or sung. I also told people that one doesn’t play or sing a “note,” but “tones.” At the time I said this things to people, I had no idea J.S. Bach was famous for his mathematically-correct music compositions! And when I finally found this out, and that music was really math, it was most gratifying to at long last have concrete support.
Deah also got a bath this afternoon: Once again she’s a “dish” (Ivory dish detergent is used to clean her)!

(30th, About 8:04 A.M.) I could have picked Leslie ‘s name. Or David’s. Or Joyce’s. Or granny’s. But whose name did I pick?
When Bill came for Kayla around noon yesterday, we “drew” names for Christmas (Joyce had earlier written names on six different small slips of paper), Bill took one home for Leslie; David was given the last unchosen slip of paper.
After Bill and Kayla departed Joyce, granny, and I made selections. Joyce “drew” her own name and swapped it with the slip meant for David. And the person whose name I randomly selected from the four remaining slips of paper was – you guess it – Bill! Buying a gift for Leslie or David or Joyce or granny wouldn’t be all that much of a conumdrum. But Bill Reeves: I suppose that’s what Christmas is all about.
Kayla, of course, is open season: We can all give her a gift.
For the past 3-4 days, I have taken Deah for her mutational peregrination wearing a robe: This reminds me of the morning in Tallahassee, at the house on 305 Piney Road, that I went outside in the front yard robed. Anita rushed from the house and yanked the garment off of me, saying that it gave me the appearance of living there; and living with Anita were against the rules of Section Eight housing! This was in the Fall of 1997.

(acerca 8:41 A.M.) Television yesterday evening included NBS 13 LOCAL NEWS (10-10:30 P.M., N.B.C.13), THE DISTRICT (9-10:00 P.M., C.B.S.), and CITIZEN BUN__ (8-9:00 P.M, C.B.S.). All three shows were watched in the Family Room. A portion of THE POINT (7-8:00 P.M., CNN) was viewed in the isolation of my room. The reason that “included” was included in the opening sentence is because several other programs invaded the Family Room, though I was back and forth doing things (writing, walking Deah, etc).
As I write the upper-50-degrees (F) permeate the area. Not bad for the final day of Month IX!

(acerca 9:30 A.M.) I still have the “itchy crack” (the crevice between my buttocks) at times, as I do at present. It also “burns” whenever I rub the area woth a bar of soap. The morning following my eviction from the house on 214 Dellview Drive – March 20, 1999 – the burning sensation was most pronounced when I soaked in the tub after renting the motel room. For some reason camping out the night of the 19th – a Friday – led to the “lighting a fire under my ass” sensation. This, too, I will have to carry the rest of my life!

(acerca 10:51 A.M.) A commercial was shown on television yesterday evening: It was for a toilet paper manufacturer. I found the commercial offensive and I told Joyce so. The commercial showed people’s butts – some in swimming pools, all a part of missing bodies – and the Voice Over declared something like “A clean and fresh-smelling __ (I forgot what the butt was called)!”
So was it payback later when I found myself with a feces-laden “crack”: The before-I-go-to-bed bound movement was massive. However, it was no excuse for a poor wiping! My underwear was left with brown stains. An order emanated from my night clothes. I was aware of the hanging feces from my rectum all night: This may have been one reason Sleep during the early hours of the morning. Brown-tinted water “ran” to the drain after making contact with my feces-crusted “crack.”
This reminds me of what Erica Jung wrote in “Fear of Flying: She had sex with a man – a conductor (music) – that was careless about wiping his ass.
Here I am, 51 years of age, and I still can’t wipe after using the toilet! How pathetic!

(acerca 6:40 P.M.) It is only the mentally challenged person and those suffering dementia that have problems “wiping their asses”: Do I fall into either category?
Yesterday the Clouds were absent from the sky; this afternoon They were up there: Their schedule is as screwy as mine!
Month IX leaves Cool Weather behind for Month X. And I’m sure Month X will improve on it!

(October – 1st, About 7:15 A.M.) Oh yeah: A good night’s sleep! It is amazing what a second blanket can do! This upper-40-degrees (F) is soporific: And it’s about time Weather and Sleep started working together!
Before I forget it, I was only able to turn over about twelve minutes to Bean Bags yesterday morning. What the hell: My captivity in my “hometown” may not last more than another year.
Yeah right! You wish!
Part Six of the documentary by Ric Burns that was presented – not Part Six, but Parts 1-5 – about two years ago, NEW YORK, was presented yesterday evening (9-11:00 P.M., P.B.S.). However, due to fatique and the fact that truck unloading is this morning, I only allowed myself an hour and twenty-five minutes. AFRICA (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.) I viewed from end-to-end, as I did DOC (7-8:00 P.M., PAX)[in the Family Room with Joyce and granny], although the latter was interrupted from time to time for household chores (taking garbage cans to side of road, readying the recycling bin, etc).

(acerca 2:30 P.M.) Up until very recently – this morning in fact – I felt that the term “Male Menopause” was an insult to women. There is a hormonal shift that women must deal with as they suffer the four or five years of menopause: There’s no way a man can experience the physical assault caused by menopause! It is truly the “change of life.”
But then I got to thinking: I am going through a “change of life.” As menopause is a transitional period between ceasing menstruation and the final “period,” such has been my 4-5 years of transition between the ceasation of a relationship with those I thought were my friends and a pick-up of new “friends,” people that will be able to help me in the New World Order that is about to open up for me. That I have upgraded myself intellectually is of no doubt! So the question for discussion is: Is the new and improved Phillip Wilson the result of a hormonal shift? Maybe I need to revise my outlook on this whole “Male Menopause” stuff: There just might be something to it! Is that o’kay with you, ladies?

(acerca 4:06 P.M.) I have just received bad news: The Print Shoppe can’t re-bound those journal volumes I was led to believe it could! So I am back to “square one.” Not only can the re-bounder (Joe Allen) not perfect bind hard covers, but the volumes are too long for plastic spirals. It will take longer than I thought to fix the neglect. And why not: It is taken me, and will take me, years to compensate for the neglect of other varibles in my life (learning, sex, etc)!
However, the re-binding set-back doesn’t mean that I should forget about getting back together with Performance: It will take much more than that to put an end once and for all to Luigi! Therefore, I will try to practice longer than a half-hour at juggling, as I did this morning before leaving for work.
A gorgeous Cloudless day, a fantastic start to Month X! The mid-70-degrees (F) was unanimously and quickly confirmed!

(2nd, About 6:57 A.M.) According to the “Home Office,” the truck was to come between 11:00 A.M. and 2:00 P.M. In actuality, though, it was at the back of Bargain Town of Childersburg, AL, before 10:30 A.M. If I had reported to work at 10:30 A.M. – the usual time whenever the Monday shipment is scheduled for “late” – I would have been beat by the truck. So I decided to “split the difference” when I was told of the timetable Friday: As I told Kathy and Angie, I didn’t trust the time declaration. Three or four weeks ago I came in on a Monday, and the truck was already in back being unloaded. And it was only 10:20 A.M.! It had been announced by telephone on the Friday before that the truck would be at the store “between 11 and 2”! I was bound and determined that this would never happen again!
There is no getting around it: I will have to fix those journal volumes myself. Maybe this is what the “powers-to-be” wanted all along: For the condition of the journal is a__ important as what is written in it!

(acerca 6:24 P.M.) Over ninty hours before I have to be at work again: Saturday afternoon at 3:00 P.M. Woe is me: What will I ever do with myself?
Another in a “string” of hits from Fall: Warm, lots and lots of sunshine, no Clouds.
Do you realize that every time I ejaculate on an article of clothing, my DNA ends up being washed down the drain? All those little Phillip Wilsons forever lost! It’s a good thing too!
NEW YORK (9-11:30 P.M., P.B.S.) only interested me for about one hour and fifteen minutes: The show covered more specific history than I cared to have knocking out other, more “important” remembrances. Hell, I have a hard enough time as it is keeping what I want to keep around from leaving me due to overcrowded conditions: Damn if I need a ten_nt hanging around that doesn’t contribute to the household!

(acerca 7:01 P.M.) Kayla came home with me when I got off work at 2:00 P.M. yesterday: Leslie transported both of us here. For the next five and a-half hours or thereabouts, Kayla kept everyone busy (Granny, Joyce, and me: everybody)! Bill came for her around 7:30 P.M.
Then it was FAMILY TIES (8-8:30 P.M.; 8:30-9:00 P.M.,- TV LAND), which led up to the above-mentioned documentary.
The journal volumes are back with me. And from now on They will remain close to home: No one can keep an eye on Them and care for Them like I can!

(acerca 7:35 P.M.) Last Thursday afternoon I spoke over the telephone with a male at The Print Shop that I later learned was Joe Allen. I was told that my journals would probably be given the perfect bind treatment. I was led to believe that my journal was about to be given a new lease on life.
On the way to work Friday morning (10:30 A.M.) Leslie took me to The Print Shop: Joe Allen was not at the Shop, but a young female wearing teeth “braces” was. I turned my journal volumes over to her, explaining that I had spoken with a man via telephone the day before. I was told that Joe would call me Monday afternoon concerning the re-bounding. My name and number were written down on a piece of paper and placed on the stack of journal volumes.
Well, come 3:30 P.M., Monday afternoon and Joe Allen had yet to call. So I called The Print Shop: The female turning the conversation over to Joe, I was told that, because the covers were cardboard and not paper, his perfect binding machine was unable to be of help. And one was too thick. Finally I was informed that the 12 ½” length was too long for a 11” plastic spiral.
In all probability, Joe Allen was trying to impress me during the initial telephone contact Thursday: He talks the talk, but, as I found out this morning – or yesterday afternoon, actually – he is unable to Walk the Walk. He is far from unique in this!

(acerca 9:53 P.M.) I will say it again, assuming that I have said it before: I must create my own “Second Career” and not rely on anyone to employ me. The thought once again crossed my mind this afternoon as I considered that Chris and Marty Krapt(?) of ZOOBEMAFOO, the kiddy show on public television, did just that: They came up with the idea of a nature show for children and it proved to be extremely marketable. With all the talent and knowledge I have, my Second Career shouldn’t be Stock at Bargain Town, U.S.A., in Childersburg, AL! But I am not naïve: I know what is required for “success.” No doubt that I am proceeding much too slowly, but networking takes one to the level when a successful amateur pursuit becomes a business, a profession. In other words, without contacts, I don’t care how talented or knowledgeable you area: It “ain’t” going to happen! Luigi may come back alive and save me from Bargain Town; and the resurrection may only be literary instead of performance . It really doesn’t make a difference. In fact the former may be much more suitable for the new and improved Phillip Wilson!

(3rd, About 7:50 A.M.) Would I have been hired by Louise Thompson if I hadn’t been backed by an “employment specialist” of sorts? On my own, would by age and speech pattern been held against me? Most likely “networking” got me the Bargain Town job. And I will remain a stock clerk with a Master’s degree unless I am “networked” by somebody with power and influence: Kids are told that “success” is based on one’s own dedication, perseverance, and talent. But one is later told – especially in graduate school – that networking is crucial to a “successful” future. In all probability, the guideline, “It’s not what you know, but who you know” is responsible for the creation and smooth operation of a career.
The only way that I will ever have a Second Career in television is to be “placed” there by somebody. Hell, it is tough enough for the young to break into that business without a sponsor: What kind of a chance does a Middle-Aged white, single male have?
However, something must happen – and soon: Surely I won’t be forced into years of service at Bargain Town, U.S.A. in Childersburg, AL? As I have been told many times over the years: “A mime is a terrible thing to waste!” I remember the photographer (older man, beard, 5’11”-6,’ slender-built) from Baltimore, MD, in particular, saying this supposively humorous version of “A mind is a terrible thing to waste!”, from and electronic advertisement for the Negro College Fund, in 1990.

(acerca 9:00 P.M.) NOVA “The Search for a Safe Cigarette” (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was the only television that received my complete and undivided attention yesterday evening, although JAG (7-8:00 P.M, C.B.S.) claimed a few minutes of it.
Early yesterday morning (7:00 A.M. or so) Joyce was leaving the house to do some errand. Granny asked her if she was leaving for her doctor’s appointment near Birmingham: Joyce answered harshly with a “no!” Granny then said something like there was no reason to answer like Leslie. So it got me to thinking: Why would a grandmother have such a relationship with one of her grandchildren? What a pathetic life granny must have, much worse than I ever thought it is!
Until I mentioned the fact Monday evening, Joyce had forgotten about the medical services. I realize Joyce has always had a bad memory, but it seems to be getting worse! Is she looking at Alzeimer’s down the road. Her “selection” is highly favorable.

(acerca 1:51 P.M.) I can’t for the life of me understand creationists: If Humankind is indeed “imperfect,” than what makes them think that God, who they say is perfect, made an imperfect product? A perfect craftsman can only make a perfect article! If God created man in His own image, then God is not perfect by any means. It is the ultimate form of blasphemy to attribute the creation of an imperfect “produce” to God!
And, too, even those people deemed mentally and/or physically “normal” suffer momentary “flashes” of “abnormal” behavior through no fault of their own: By way of design, Humankind is flawed. Only an inferior craftsman can turn a flawed product.
There are many incidents when the functioning of the human brain temporarily operates differently than how the brain, if perfect, would never operate under “normal” conditions: Expects in neurology can cite numerous cases. A perfect God is responsible? I don’t think so!

(acerca 3:50 P.M.) A person is declared “insane” when the frequency of these momentary abnormalities in the brain increase to the point that the person can no longer function in the “real world.” And of course “insanity” is relevant to the “real world” that one must deal with. It is like disability in that sense. As Ken Rodgers, the initial legal advisor I confronted in August 2000 when I decided to launch an appeal against the negative decision of the Disability Determination Administration (?), said to me, “Crippled legs wouldn’t be as much as a disability to someone that works at a desk as it would be to a ditch digger,” or words to that effect.

(acerca 5:21 P.M. Although the above is not a verbatim account of what attorney Ken Rodgers said to me, the meaning was clear: The criteria for determining disability hinge on how a corporal and/or sensory malfunction hinder normal service to a given “career.” If Mr. Rodgers was trying to keep me from appealing I have yet to determined; but a “do” or a “don’t” has nothing to do with the connection between “insanity” and the ability to cope.
In other words, everyone is disabled, everyone is insane: The environment, or stimulus, is the determining factor. How one intereacts with what one comes in contact with makes all the difference in the world!
What I am trying to say is that my horrible “ass-wiping” of the other evening shouldn’t be held against me! Only if bad post-toliet hygiene persist should my emotional/mental health be suspect. One day doeth not make a crazy person!

(acerca 6:40 P.M.) Let’s investigate the Adam and Eve myth and see if “God created Man in His own image”: If Eve fell victim to the wiles of the serpent, than humankind wasn’t perfect. For a perfect person does not fall for “wiles.” Therefore, Eve’s creator – God – wasn’t a perfect craftsman. If Eve was in cohorts with the serpent, then humankind wasn’t perfect: A perfect human doesn’t resort to conspiracy. Again, God was imperfect to make humankind “in His own image.” And in either case, the fact that Adam yielded to temptation brought on by Eve: If Adam had been perfect in the first place, he would not have yielded to temptation.
By giving the Serpent such power over suppively perfect beings, a god is made out of Him. And then we have two Gods. That “shoots” monotheism “out of the water”!
So much for God being perfect!
Kayla was here from around 2:45 P.M. until around 6:10 P.M.

(acerca 9:10 P.M.) The United States is busy trying to form a coalition in order to wage war against terrorism. It is the only chance the country has to prevent what happened three weeks ago from happening again. In the same sense, I must try and form a “coalition,” one that will wage war on my present low-life status. It will be the only way that a Second Career can ever be launched. It will be the only way to prevent a recurrence of a Bargain Town lifestyle!
The warranty on my hearing aids – covering three years – will be expired in a couple of weeks: Can I expect a mechanical break-down next month? Doesn’t that usually happen with “things”?
While talking with Joe Allen via telephone on Monday afternoon, he kept referring to my journal as “notes”: He was unaware that the volumes represented several periods in my life. But I suppose it is only notes that I have kept over the years and not really a journal: No one treats a journal with the neglect that, up until a year ago, I gave mine! On the other hand, Charles Darwin admitted that “Origin of the Species” was only collected notes from the “Beagle” adventure years before. So maybe my notes didn’t leave out too much: And everyday much “happens” if only I realized at the time how to look for it.

(4th, About 7:_1 A.M.) P.B.S. started broadcasting GENESiS: A CONVERSATION WITH BILL MOYERS on Wednesday evenings from 8-9:00 P.M. Yesterday evening was the “debut” of the series and it will “run” for 5-6 weeks. Actually, though, it is a re-broadcast: It was 1996, either late Spring of Summer. I had been “transferred” from the separate and independent apartment, to the bedroom in the rear of the first floor of the main house of Gail and Larry Benjamin on the corner of Shoreline and WOW Lane. Five years ago, GENESIS was aired via WFSU on Sunday afternoons, at 3:00 P.M., I think. I had a television on the table in the hall/main room and I would sit in a chair that had been placed in the door way to the bedroom/bathroom. There was about a four-inch “drop” from the hall to the bedroom. I doubt if both rooms together were bigger than this room! But I was not paying rent, which is the reason for the relocation: Money wasn’t coming in, so I was covering the rent by doing chores for the Benjamins.
About four or five months ago I “called up” the P.B.S. webpage in hopes that a review of GENESIS was available: It wasn’t then, but I suppose it is now! But the fact that my futile search may have “led” to a rebroadcast gives me an indescribable feeling.
THE NEWSHOUR WITH JIM LEHRER (7-8:00 P.M., P.B.S.) was also a part of my Wednesday schedule. As was a 30-minute juggling practice and a approx. two-hour nap.

(acerca 9:05 A.M.) One of the panelists on GENESIS yesterday evening – a female, late-30’s/early-40’s, black hair, jewish, a professor in Isreal – mentioned the fact that she saw the “backside” of God on occasions. I don’t know if it was the backside, frontside, or side side, but I was conscious of some divine being a week or so before I was legally forced out of the house at 214 North Dellview Drive in Tallahassee, FL. You, Journal, are the only other “person” that is aware of this “intervention”: For anyone else to know what be a confirmation of mental delusions. Things have to be awfully bad for some divine personage to become involved personally: I don’t think anyone would argue that the foolish liaison with Anita Matlow became “awfully bad”! Actually it was “awfully bad” from Day One!

(acerca 9:26 A.M.) When I was in high school, I was a firm believer in the Adam and Eve story, that, indeed, woman was made from one of Adam’s ribs. On several occasions I would “fall for it” when another male would count his ribs on both sides of the sternum: The male would swear that the number of ribs on the left side of the chest was less by one the number of ribs on the right side of the chest.
That was in the mid- and late-1960’s. The scary part about this is that there are people that still believe such! How pathetic!
Fall has been very good about keeping a thick coat of blue on the sky so that the White of the Clouds, making up the outer layer of the dome that covers us, doesn’t show through. Yesterday was a fine example. Today, though, Fall, the Tour Guide, is revealing that Outer Wall of White to visitors: Scattered here and there are Clouds. This isn’t stopping Fall from giving us Its usual great work: Warm, bright, clear.

(acerca 3:31 P.M.) It’s one thing when the Monday before payday is a holiday: That could very well result in a delay of the paychecks. It’s something else, however, when the Monday is a regular day, as it was this week: What Raleigh’s excuse? That the postal service is slow! We all know that it is – extremely unreliable – but that “slow mi__” is also a convenient excuse.
No promised pay today: Working for Bargain Town is becoming more and more like being back on the circus! And I need to separate myself from this type of environment. But I can’t seem to do it: Not without help! That is why I wrote and send a note via e-mail to Helen Waldrop: Voc Rehab just may be able to network me in to a Birmingham TV station. I doubt it, but I am almost desperate and will use whatever I can! Hell, Voc Rehab got me into this mess: Hopefully it can get me out!
Lunch at Hardee’s: A double cheeseburger “war” is going on among McDonald’s, Burger King, and Hardee’s – a double cheeseburger for 99 cents – so this is what I ordered (catsup only). However, somebody forgot to re-program the digital cash register and the young female African American “order-taker” tried to charge me the regular price: With a small drink ($1.39) she announced that my order was $3 and something. I pointed out that double cheeseburgers were on sale for 99 cents; the manager, also a young, female African American, made the price change: It was $2.58 (I think). Then I purchased a pack of cigarettes at the near-by convenient store for $1.39.
Which reminds me: Early Tuesday afternoon I walked up to the Allen’s Convenient Store (near McDonald’s) and bought a pack of cigarettes for $1.85. I have done the trip before, but have, no doubt, failed to tell you about it. The hike (1/8 of a mile or so) is usually made on Tuesdays, although not always. And sometimes I have lunch at the across-the-highway Burger King.
In addition to the e-mail to Helen Waldrop, I also informed David via e-mail of the P.B.S. upcoming program on LOCAL NEWS, in the event that he is interested in gleaning possible “tricks of the trade.”
Only about a 2/3 bag of cans and plastic bottles came home with me. The foot trip, though, was fantastic, considering the conditions of the day: Upper-70-degrees (F), Yellow around, etc. Somebody or something scraped the sky this morning: Fall’s paint job had been ruined by the white of the Clouds showing through. Although the status of Mercury wasn’t affected (I don’t think!), Fall’s “mural” was destroyed just because the gods felt that They could do better. But They can’t: and that incurs Their wrath!

(acerca 4:2_ P.M.) This coming Sunday, there will be a “No cost, no money down lay-away” day at Bargain Town (20% is usually required for putting an item on lay-away). The store will be opened from noon to 7:00 P.M.: This is by order of Becky, the district (?) manager (?). Everyone (Louise, Angie, Kathy, Claudia, and me) suppose to work. Claudia was by the cash register, Louise was at the end of the counter, and I was on the customer side of it, by the exit door. It was Tuesday afternoon. Louise was working on the week schedule for next week. In my usual joking mode, I told Louise that I would call Becky; and was she working on Sunday? Becky was in Georgia at a meeting; and she probably wasn’t working Sunday. Claudia was shocked by by humor: Even Louise found it too much. Thinking me serious, Louise say I could work some other day. I then ceased with the joking and stated that I could come in.
The final decision was that I would work from 2-7:15 pm Sunday. But I was shocked that Claudia – and Louise to an extent – was shocked over my joking! Apparently neither has ever dealt with such, what they call, arrogance. How else can I put up with such a degrading job as stock clerking at Bargain Town in Childersburg, AL?
(continued)




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