Phillip Wilson

Amazingly, I survived my Life
2011-09-30 00:03:36 (UTC)

2002 REVIEW (PART THIRTY-SIX)

September- Childersburg/Sylacauga/Oak Grove, AL Ccontinues)

With the upper-70-degrees (F) serving as the Honor Guard, Fall will usher in Month X in about eight and a half hours. Of course by that time, the low-60-degrees (F) will be lining the Grand Entry way!
Did you know that light smoking (less than six cigarettes a day) could well be good for your health? Using the “hygiene hypothesis,” the harmful invasion of nicotine into one’s body may strengthen one’s immune system. This is my own interpretation of the “hygiene hypothesis” so don’t quote me on it, but it make sense! Or I am only rationalizing a nasty addition?

(acerca de 6:10 P.M.) I take it that the Alabama Army Ammunition Plant provided employment to many people, thanks to Germany and Japan. And both nations are still helping Alabama fix the economy: The Mercdes Benz plant in Vance, and the Honda plant in Lincoln.
But I was distracted. I was trying – planning – to say – on saying – that a similar thing is happening in Iraq: Pre-war rhetoric has resulted in an “Iraqi Army Ammunition Plant.” There are many concerns – justifiably so – about humanitarian aid to the people of Iraq. I recall an old saying that goes something like this: “Give a person an apple and you feed her/him for one day; but give him an apple tree seed and help her/him grow an apple tree, you will feed her/him for a long time!”
In other words, don’t bomb the jobs-providing centers of the production of weapons of mass destruction, no matter how threatening these centers may be to you. That is the best humanitarian aid one can give!

(30th, About 5:42 A.M.) Growing is very painful physically and emotionally. That is why Kayla is seeking the protection of her mother: She is hurting and is wondering what she did. It is the first growth spurt that she is facing, probably the hardest one. In a true sense it is as stressful as menopause.
Kayla insisted that Leslie stay with her when she, Leslie, and Bill came over around 7:20 P.M., yesterday evening (I just happened to walk out of my room; otherwise I would never have known). Bill left and returned in about an hour.
Kayla’s next big growth spurt will come about in ten years or so.
Whenever I take the garbage cans or recycling bins to the side of the road, I think about the death of the clown Emmett Kelly: He had a heart attack in Sarasota, FL, in 1979 while taking out the garbage. What better way for a “born clown to die than to imitate the Great One! Long ago an elderly gentleman that had too much time on his hands (a Circus Fan) compared me to Emmett Kelly. From that statement, I felt I had no choice but to continue clowning. Hence, the desperate attempt to appear at as many different venues as possible, even if I never saw a profit! It was that declaration, taken seriously, that led to my cheapening the art of clowning!

(acerca de 6:09 A.M.) I watched Alabama Public Television’s THE CIVIL WAR marathon yesterday afternoon (11:00 A.M.-7:00 P.M.) off-and-on mainly during juggle practice. Although the mini-series only presented a superficial history of the civil war (its sole purpose), I have decided to follow up the research with Bruce Catton’s “Terrible Swift Sword,” the second part of a 3-book series on the Second Revolutionary War of the United States of America. What better tribute to Ken Burns than to use his documentary as a stepping stone, a launch pad, for further study? This, too, was a raison d’etre from the 12-hour series.

(acerca de 6:50 P.M.) My longest day yet at CACC: Nine hours and fifteen minutes of work (From 2:00 to 3:30 P.M., there was a break for Hazel’s class). 7:30 A.M. until 6:15 P.M.! Actually I arrived at CACC a few minutes before 6:45 A.M.: Joyce took granny to the hospital for the pre-arranged laser treatment on her left eye, and she (Joyce) “dropped” me off.
Hazel didn’t report to work until almost 8:00 A.M., but I am still recording 7:30 A.M., as my starting time!
It was so nice picking up a $513.07 check today before Month IX go away with it! It will be my last post-$500 pay check: I must keep my work schedule as close to ninteen hours a week as I can. Bookstore inventory was a special event and will not be held against me.
During the lunch break and work stoppage so Hazel could attend class, I hiked to The Bank and deposited $450 into my checking account. Hell, I won’t even bring home as much as I deposited this afternoon from now on!
The vast majority of the time I was inside today. But when I did go out, Phoebus was waiting on me. It was wondering where I was!
The final day of Month IX presented the lower-80-degrees (F) as one of the last thing It will do: until next year. A 12-month vacation: Imagine that!

(acerca de 7:16 P.M.) The Bush administration wants to privatize Social Security: I won’t at all be surprised if it didn’t want to contract the war it is pushing against Iraq to a private company! What __ Kick butt.com existed: Imagine George W. Bush calling the business and placing an order! The receptionist would tell of another Bush – a George H.W. Bush (or W.H.). She/he would ask George W. Bush if the was any relationship. “He is my father!” Then the receptionist would ask how the war came out and if his father was satisfy with kick butt.com.
Far fetched? Not for the Bush White House!

(acerca de 8:55 P.M.) I need to relate an episode from my near past, but I am unclear as to how it goes: Here is an “outline” of it. Maybe I can reveal more than I think I can.
As far as I can tell, Richard Pereles is the “star” of this flashback. There is also a connection with people saying that they are “fixing to do something”: Instead of actually doing something, these people exclaim that they are getting ready to do it. As with most everything else, Richard Pereles was very harsh on these people. And in a sense, I agree with him. However, there is another side of the coin: I never did clowning, but was always trying to do it. Clowning, for me, was something that would ___ a lifetime of trying but never allow Itself to be reached.
I am not writing just to set my thoughts in words: Not this time, anyway! No, there’s a reason for bringing up an unpleasant time in my life: Yesterday evening Kayla cried pitifully when Joyce told her that granny was putting drops in her eyes. Does Kayla not know that a “drop” has more than one meaning, that an unwelcomed and unplanned___, by Gravity is the verb form of “drop”? Did Kayla think that granny had dropped (verb) her eyes? This morning Joyce told me – we were inside the administration building at CACC – that it is her belief that “they’ (Leslie and Bill) did something to the child.
It may be that I, a childless single man, knows more about child-rearing than Joyce, mother of two, does!
As you can tell, I am having trouble with getting a red-ink pen to co-operate with me. Something about Journal – or Month IX – that pisses it off! Just wait until tomorrow!

October- Childersburg, AL

(1st, About 7:42 A.M.) The point I was trying to make before red made it difficult was that a person never learns the English language: Kayla ‘s reaction to “granny putting drops in her eye” Sunday evening is just the beginning of her (Kayla) life long “fixing to learn” with the English language. And believe me, it gets much more painful!
Around 4:30 P.M., or so, Hazel articulated the fact that she needed some energy food: We were in the small storehouses off to the side, Hazel in a chair to my right as we inventoried the shelves lining the wall nearest the main room. It was decided that a candy bar would not give her the boost she needed. She tied to get me to have a soda with her, but I declined. She asked me what I suggested: I replied “Potato chips, because of the carbohydrates.” Hazel protested that her hands were filthy, as were mind.
Most of the stuff Hazel said was what I had “discussed” with Joyce: Could it be that Joyce and Hazel use me as a credible source? I have expressed dismay with Sheila Mitchell who thinks stuffing her body with sugar is the secret to re-supplying yourself with energy. I stated to Joyce that the best thing for recharging your batteries is a hamburger or cheeseburger. Hazel was familiar with my “prescription” and advice.

(acerca de 8:55 A.M.) Even Leslie made a smart-ass reference to the “rain days” I took last week: In driving me home, I was telling her about the many hours I got in. She stated, rather nastily, that I could use them to make up for last week. When I told her that I was only shy a half-hour last week, she expressed amazement. It was obvious that she had heard only Joyce’s side of “what happened.”
I wish I could say that it is only the small minority of church-goers that are losers and people of questionable worth, that the vast majority of church-goers – people involved in organized religion – are fine people, people that one would choose to be around. But I’m afraid it’s the other way around: The vast majority of church-goers are assholes. There are exceptions, though way too few!
Ken Burns is my age, or a year or two younger (or older). While I was wasting my life in the circus, he was getting the most out of his by making documentary films. As early as 1984 he put out one on the Statue of Liberty: KEN BURNS’ AMERICAN STORIES (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.) yesterday evening brought the film back to life. It was not all that well done: Rock music was used as background and theme music at several points. It did not fit the rhythum of the documentary. What, could Ken Burns not afford specially-composed music? Probably not at that early stage in his career. I don’t know if STATUS OF LIBERTY was his first film or not, but I felt it to be not far above a student film: For the amount of time and money given to it, even THE CIVIL WAR had much to be desire.

(acerca de 10:12 A.M. Henry Miller (?) wrote a small novel, “Smile at the Foot (?) of the Ladder” about a circus clown. The clown advanced to the point that he no longer felt comfortable actively performing in the ring. He eventually became so “out of touch” that his threatening behavior out on a street led to his death at the hands of the police.
Hopefully, such won’t happen to me. But maybe the “death” was necessary for the clown to be resurrected as a real clown. In other words, maybe Luigi is still with me: Just because I am no longer actively performing doesn’t mean that I am not taking clowning to new heights. My present lifestyle might very well be the logical evolution of Luigi!

(acerca de 6:32 P.M.) I saw a Batrian (2-hump) cameral, Deah before she is groomed (a fuzzy bear), a person trying to break out of snow: All within ten minutes! I was sitting on the bench behind Building “E” looking at a cloud formation over Milt’s shop (Building “G”).
Also there was a dog chasing a ___ pile. This feature film happened around 5:00 P.M.
In a few minutes I moved back to a row of seats in the courtyard behind the administration building. My eyes beheld a sloth in another cumulus cloud.
Was it ever a gorgeous day! Was Month X only behaving because of Day One? Probably!
The upper-80-degrees (F) were on hand for the Grand Opening of October 2002. What a welcome back the outside had for me!

(acerca de 7:13 P.M.) “You son of a bitch! We almost had ‘em!” So say weeds after I pulled them – which I did at the two islands of the nursing school parking lot.
“No holding hands!” said I to the shrubery as I cut overlapping limbs. Aren’t I a mean old tyrant? “This is a public place, you shrubs!”
Believe it or not, it took over four hours to care for the island flower bed! Of all the days for Phoebus to make a long, passionate speech! I sweated through ever word of it!
Black Bottomed Clouds tried to invade the opening day festivities, but They were quickly routed.

(2nd, About 4:22 A.M.) As the commercial says (sort of) “When it’s gone, it’s gone!”. Even though my eyes are not yet accustomed to the “light of day,” what “played” before my eyes should – nay, must – be remembered for all times! I remember being partially awake. But it was the partially asleep that forced this “film” on me. It involved me “fixing” to ride a greyhound bus (I never actually road it). I recall being in some kind of lecture hall, aseated. I was discussing with my left neighbor(s) a speech by a recent president of the United States who had done something for which he was apologizing. Was it Clinton or the first George Bush? I turned to ask the person behind me (I turned left). It was a young (14-15) male African American. My original conversation partner (there was a child or something between us) commented that he was way too young. We both mentioned Lyndon Johnson.
It was either the unrelated Part II of this dream or an altogether separate one: I had left some items at a bath house or something. I remember the male director (?) telling me where he had stored the stuff (The director [?] was young – early-20’s). Several of my earlier journal volumes were included in this “neglected” Cache.
I had left my suitcase and things unattended outside a Greyhound bus station. This male (young, white) and I had walked someplace. Upon remembering what I had done, I run back to the station. The last thing I can remember is running up a hill, the traffic on-coming.
There it is folks! Or should I say there they are folks! The three dreams may be all part of one. Don’t ask me how that happened: You are cordially invited to tell me what the hell took place to “inspire” such nonsense?

(acerca de 7:52 A.M.) Yesterday’s care I gave to the shrubbery at CACC resulted in muscular soreness;
I am in the process of getting my journal in order like Dales Evans before she died. By the way, there was a medium close-up of a journal volume, specially designed so that I would notice it: As far as I can figure, it was the September 22, 1991 to December 8, 1991, volume.
But how am I to explain the bus station, the alledged presidential apology, etc? Though maybe that’s the point: I shouldn’t! It was only the wiles of a mischievous Dream maker!
The Cloud Show of late afternoon yesterday: It came from the east.

(acerca de 8:15 A.M.) As Leslie was backing the car out of the driveway early yesterday afternoon in taking me to work, she patronizingly asked me if I had my cap. It was as if she was driving a child to school and asked if he had his lunch!
When Donald Rumsfeld, the Secretary of Defense, blamed the U.S.’s killing of innocent civilians on the fact that it was only there because El Qaida lured us there (Afghanistan), during one of his daily briefings from the Pentagon, it is tantamount to a sex offender or child molester blaming the desirability of the opposite sex, or the cuteness of a child, for her/his behavior! Even I could claim innocence because of factors beyond my control!
After coming home with Joyce and I, Kayla stayed until around 8:00 P.M., yesterday evening.
While was were waiting in Joyce’s office yesterday afternoon (around 5:30 P.M.), I “explained” to Leslie about Kayla’s problem with “granny putting drops in her eyes,” that maybe the child is only aware of one meaning of “drops.”

(acerca de 8:50 A.M.) The white guy at the 1964 Boy Scout Jamboree at Valley Forge, PA, that told me to wait to take a shower because there was a “nigger” in the wooden stalls (I have just become aware of the irony: Valley Forge, one of the major battles fields of the Revolutionary War, was a scene of anti-democratic racial bigotry);
In handing over notes to a counselor, I used the term “nigger” in the report (I was a Boy Scout, mind you! The counselor was a white male, older, and from the north), and was summarily shown the error of my ways;
Billy Whitlock telling people that a black woman “knew her place” because she was a Christian. It was in class – the 12th grade – and Billy was sitting at a desk;
Skippy Griffith (Griffins?) leading the morning home room class in a cheer the day following Martin Luther King’s assassination (1968);
The harassment of the first female African American student in high school (1967 or 1968) by Paul somebody (He later was killed in Vietnam);
and this is only the pre-1970 non-family instances of racial bigotry! THE RISE AND FALL OF JIM CROW (9-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.) brought these nightmares back to the front of the line! The Good Ole Days! Yea, right! Should I now list the post-1970 cases? How about the anti-American behavior of my family, including the 1970 letter that I received from my father stating in essence that if I insisted on hanging around “niggers,” he wanted nothing to do with me?
During one of my bull sessions with Ronnie Harkins in his office, I told him about the Skippy Griffins (?) incidence, but emphasized that his (Skippy) daughter didn’t deserve to die (she was killed by a train wild crossing a track in a car, not far from this house in fact [the tracks on Forest Hills Drive, 100 yards or so from Highway 76]).
I tried to watch OVER ALASKA, a travelogue on P.B.S., from 8-9:00 P.M., but after ten minutes or so, I begin channel-flipping, coming across the film THE GREAT DICTATOR on TCM starring Charlie Chaplin in a dual role.
I remember a male, on some talk show years ago, “honoring” Chaplin by explaining how meticulous the latter was with each film that he put out, doing over 100 “takes.” Then I recall what the producer/director Bill __of the Center for Public Television said: When the Rolling Stones came to Muscle Shoals to record an album, the group took over thirty-nine hours on one song. Mike Letcher, Bill, and I were travelling (not Mike Letcher, but one of the videographers in 1994-95) from a location “shoot” in the Florence area back to Tuscaloosa. However, if Chaplin produced and directed the part of THE GREAT DICTATOR that I saw, then all the fuss about Charlie Chaplin shouldn’t be!

(acerca de 6:24 P.M.) You know what bothered me about THE GREAT DICTATOR (There is a “joke” that I heard years ago and use to repeat it: What is the difference be- Fidel Castro and a jockey strap? One’s a dictator and the other is a dick toter!)? There is a scene when the Hitler-like dictator (played by Chaplin) climbs a curtain camera left. In medium close-up the dictator makes a right triangle with his butt, his knees, and his feet, as one would in climbing. This medium close-up alternated with a long shot (medium): In the latter view of the dictator 30-35 feet off the floor, the feet are straight down from the knees, parallel to an imaginary extension of the backbone. It is a very disturbing editing job. There was no reason for it to have been done!
So much for Charlie Chaplin having been a perfectionist!
The upper-80-degrees (F) continued filibustering this afternoon. And cumulus Clouds were back floating in a special version of the American Cup (or whatever that sailing contest is called). A gorgeous day! May Month X keep this up until Winter lodges a formal protest!
I could have sworn that I heard ants screaming as I ___ed at an ant mound that was encircled around one of the bushes behind the bookstore! It was around 5:20 P.M., and I was using a plastic tube that flares out to fit ___ an “ash tray” (I was using the one to the side entrance to the Cafetorium). Ants rob the plant of nourishment, and it pissed me off!
Is the hearing aid helping my hearing that much? Watch out for the Bionic Man, you ants!

(acerca de 7:18 P.M.) Even though one is too many, the vast majority of Southerners in the mid-19th century couldn’t afford to own slaves. So the Civil War, as are all wars, was a Rich Man’s war – especially after the Emancipation Proclamation went into effect in 1863! Both the union and confederate armies were “devastated” by desertion: A lot of “soldiers,” in addition to planting and harvesting, walked away in disgust, asking themselves, “Why die so that the Rich People can re-unite? Why do I care if the South remains apart from the United States of America?” It would be a good research project to find out if the desertion rate increased sharply after the slaves were freed: Then the question became, “Why die so that the ‘nigger’ may be freed? It isn’t in my interest: I will still be doing the same old work that I have always done!”
Leslie brought Kayla over here around 8:00 A.M., this morning: It was about 11:30 A.M., when she returned for her. Me? I was at work by noon, resulting in twenty hours: And I will get in 4-5 hours tomorrow. I must not let that happen every week: Monday, though, was special.

(3rd, About 7:44 A.M.) “You got what you deserve, ___ ___!” I never knew weeds could be so vindictive when pulled! But, as I was yesterday, my body feels like I was the one pulled, not the weeds! Actually, they did pull me: It was a tug-of-war between weeds and me. The only reason I won is because I had superior ___: Clippers. But the weeds fought me every step of the way.
As I lit a cigarette late yesterday afternoon, I happened to glance at my pocket watch: It was around 4:44. This time piece is fourteen minutes fast so the real time wasn’t 4:44:44, but it was now the time in ___zing an incidence!

(acerca de 8:44 A.M.) I can’t ____ indirect __ something. I must not think that I can cram stuff __ __into my memory file! For instance, I read “Beowulf “ in 1992. However, during an interview with Dr. Leon Golden prior to beginning my graduate training in the humanities, it was as if I was completely unfamiliar with ___this Old English, Anglo-Saxon epic poem that came years after “The Iliad.” Hell, I had only studied “Beowulf” five years before (the in-camera interview with Dr. Golden happened in 1997)!
I bring the situation up now because EGYPT: LAND OF THE GODS (8-10:00 P.M., The History Channel) was almost too much for me to handle yesterday evening. It was all I could do to control my attention span! At the most I picked up a third of this “lecture.” But what a third! Of course, most of that third I should have known years ago! But I didn’t. And all I can do about it now is to – well, learn it!

(acerca de 9:00 A.M.) Fred Thompson, the Republican senator from Tennessee, is retiring this term. Sen. Thompson is a former actor. He is also a current actor: He is making his Come-Back as the district attorney of LAW & ORDER. For some deep-seated reason, I am interested in how former artists manage Come-Backs. I suppose I just may pick-up a trick or two on how it is done. I felt compelled to see Sen. Thompson (yes, he’s still a sitting legislator) in his Come-Back debut! To this end, during the commercial breaks during the second half of EGYPT, I turned over to NBC: As luck would have it, I “caught” Thompson in two different scenes. I must say, his performance wasn’t all that bad! Although being a United States Senator is nothing to be ashamed of, it’s too bad that it took so long from Fred Thompson to stage a Come-Back. Maybe I won’t have to wait until my 70’s!

(acerca de 9:30 A.M.) I was, only like yesterday evening, rereading a volume of this journal from 1992: As that, what came to be my last, circus season was winding down, I told myself that college theatre was more professional than the circus (maybe I was in Birmingham or Childersburg already). Now we know why: I was involved “amateur” venues. I was of the opinion that they would take Luigi to a higher level. And they did: For a while. I didn’t stop when I should have. As a result, I probably did more harm than good that final year or two!
Luigi was responsible for putting me in the emotional mode I was in, in the first place! It was only fitting that Luigi get me out of the situation when He was done with me!
But is He done with me?

(acerca de 9:55 A.M.) One day at the cookhouse – I forgot what year it was – Ernie Miller, a retired high school teacher of United States history and a Circus Fan that worked in the Front Office of Carson and Barnes Circus, declared to someone that the border states (Kentucky, Missouri, etc) didn’t go to the Confederacy because they were prevented from doing so by federal troops. Since it sounded logical – and Ernie was, after all, a civil war “specialist” – I believed it. Only now I am finding that Mr. Miller was in good company: Bruce Catton, for one.

(acerca de 11:56 A.M.) Just before exiting the door at CACC in departing for the day late yesterday afternoon, I mentioned that I didn’t realize that a program could break down: I just thought computers could. Then it was established that I was referring to Leslie: The program that she uses at work had to be sent off to Washington, D.C., to be repaired.
Once in the car and headed home, the wasteful Adult Basic Education – the department Leslie works for – is an example of government waste. As is Talent Search and to an extent Upward Bound.
We haven’t gotten far when I brought up the GED test: It was my contention that, in many ways, the GED is better than a high school diploma. CACC administers the GED test itself. However, A.B.E. provides pre-testing classes. To Joyce, this made welfare abuse easier: Training is required in order to receive welfare. According to Joyce, GED “students” have a friend or some one else take the test and flunk it. In this way, the “student” can continue with the preparation classes in order to continue receiving welfare.
How widespread is that practice? I have no doubt that abuse happens but as I told Hazel back when I was a bookstore employee, most welfare fraud is done by the periphery: Those that indirectly profit from welfare.
A high school diploma or GED is required in order to be a licensed driver in Alabama. I knew it was that way in Florida, but I didn’t realize Alabama had such a policy. Is this not an undemocratic practice? There should be no connection between driving legally and finishing high school. Although driving is not a right: It is a privilege. The practice – driver’s license only to a high school graduate – is neither constitutional or unconstitutional.

(acerca de 6:02 P.M.) You know that ant mound I attacked yesterday? The one behind the bookstore at CACC? The one strangling the bush? Well, all the inhabitants have __ted the Ground Zero. It was the ants’ 9-11: 10-2! And I destroyed several today. The ants will always remember October 3, 2002. I am a “terrorist”!
Just like the Ku Klux Klan: Just like lynching was a terrorist act.
Mid-80-degrees (F), but Phoebus had a leash on Them. The Clouds weren’t as cumulus as They have been. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t so humid this afternoon.

(acerca de 6:55 P.M.) After all these years of keeping a journal, I wonder: If I was living in Alabama 1860, where would my allegiance be? I’m sure that there were many union sympathizers in the South – and Confederate sympathizers in the North – outside Marion County, AL, which seceded from the Confederacy.
It’s a well-known fact that the only reason Harry Truman ordered the military integrated was to show the rest of the world that America is really a democratic country: It not only walks the walk but it also talks the talk! President Truman most likely didn’t order the military integrated because it was the right thing to do.
Abraham Lincoln was desperately trying everything in his power to keep England and France from siding with the Confederacy! Finally he hit upon a brilliant plan: Free the slaves! I have no proof of this, but I strongly suspect that he didn’t issue the Emancipation Proclamation because he was a friend of the African American (or Black Person)!

(acerca de 7:18 P.M.) I remember telling Mr. Yount (?), father of Bobby and Terry, at a Boy Scout meeting, held in the basement of the First United Methodist Church (on Tuesdays I think, in the evenings) – this was the mid-1960’s – that I was interested in working on, or something in reference to earning the reading merit badge. Only I was unable to articulate the “r” sound at the time. So it came out of my mouth as “weeding.” My Yount, an assistant scoutmaster, was bewildered for a few seconds until it hit him that I “talked funny.”

(4th, About 8:07 A.M.) It’s Lilli now: Tropical Storm or Hurricane Lilli is camped out in the Gulf of Mexico. It goes without saying that southeast Texas, southern Louisiana, southern Mississippi, the panhandle and western part of Florida are being merciless victimized by the Bitch. However, to be as fair as possible, She is sending Lilli’s Children to nearby neighborhoods: This area was chosen to receive a visitation by Rain. It crossed the Welcome Line earlier this morning and is, as I write, having coffee while being driven around on a tour.
Granny is trying her best (and we all know the quality of her “best”) to make up for the damage she has done to me over the over the last 2-3 years. She’s desperately attempting to re-assert herself into my life. Yesterday evening while at the table during dinner she asked me what I had done at work. I answered her, but surely she doesn’t think that she can undo her abuse in a few days! Besides, even if I wanted to be “son-ish” with granny again, she is only that much more manipulative and cruel. It is her nature: She can’t help herself. But neither do I want to put up with it!

(acerca de 9:27 A.M.) Don’t bother me: There are a lot of volumes of my journal that need fixing! Can’t You wait awhile, Come Back? Let me take care of my original “career” first!
The second hour of EGYPT: LAND OF THE GODS (8-10:00 P.M. The History Channel) yesterday evening discussed the everyday use of magic in ancient Egypt. I saw no reason to dwell into such “nonsense,” so I turned over to THE NEWS WITH BRIAN WILLIAMS (CNBC). However, upon reconsideration, I decided that as a humanist, the lifestyle of the Common Person of ancient Egypt was as important to know as is the rulers of the three kingdoms (Old, Middle, New)! The only why to really understand religion is to see the effect it has on the general population. I regret my original, hasty decision, but what the hell, I’m sure The History Channel will re-broadcast the mini-series!
Kayla once again came home with Joyce and I: Leslie, who, as you may recall, is on a forced leave of absense, came for her around 7:30 P.M., and the pair left around 7:55 P.M.

(acerca de 1:31 P.M.) I was coming out of the convenient store, having brought two packs of cigarettes ($3.00), when I noticed a man coming in that had a similar appearance to Claude Baxley, Joyce’s last ex-husband. Only the man had a growth of facial hair.
In the front of the store, I lit up. Soon the man came out and approached me from the right (south) (I was facing the store). He said “Phillip?”: It was Chuck McMillan. The name meant nothing to me (and still doesn’t) but he mentioned Bill Tidwell, so I guess correctly he was a fellow Boy Scout.
According to Chuck, he and his parents were discussing me the other day (?). He also told me that he had given me a ride years ago when I was hitchhiking (to Birmingham?). I take his word for it! If so, then this journal is most appreciative!
I told him I was working at CACC: It took him a while to figure out what CACC was (“The College?”). I wasn’t working today, though: I have a long weekend. He told me that he only worked Sunday to Thursday.
Anyone would have thought Chuck and I were Big Buddies!
A woman that may have been Ruby Cox (she came from the house down the street) gave me a ride to town around 10:30 A.M., this morning. Our conversation consisted of mainly – what else? – the weather, although she did inquire about my dog, the implication being that I should be taking her to town with me.
The main purpose for the trip downtown – besides resupplying my Cigarette Cache – was to take three volumes of my journal to the Print Shop for rebinding. They may be perfect bound: I will inform you when the time comes.
No e-mail, of course. So after “playing” on the computer for a short while, I started the walk home (My morning ride said she would be in town again in about an hour and if she saw me, she would give me a ride). Even though the sun is all smiles at the moment, it was quite a different story then: Overcast shielded me from a Yellow Invasion. Try though It may, however, Overcast was unable to protect me from Humidity: The hike made my shirt damp. The upper-70-degrees (F) rubbed the Humidity in.

(acerca de 4:30 P.M.) Research into the civil war has created a flashback: I remember visiting the famous battlefield in northern Georgia, Chickamauga. I may be wrong, but I think I was a part of a contingent of newspaper carriers that had won a trip to Chattanooga, TN, Chickamauga being not far away. The year was, what, 1966? It was around that time, anyway.
Wind, although not nearly as “strong” as Its southern Louisiana’s cousin, is more active than usual. Hell, It has blown Phoebus from the sky! Now we are vulnerable to Rain! And the mid-80-degrees (F) can’t do a damn thing to help!

(acerca de _:33 P.M.) There was no “complete” state in the Confederacy: Unionists or union sympathizers existed outside the union. That’s why the civil war should never be called the War Between the States, as many in the South still do and have for years. It was the centers of state government that seceded, not the citizens of the states. The two must never be confused!
George W. Bush may shun the United Nations; he may turn his back on the Kyoto treaty. But that doesn’t mean that we, the private citizens, have to tarnish the reputation of the United States among the rest of the world!
During the 1970 (April) trip to Venezuela that I took with the Alabama State Ballet, the president was Richard Nixon. I needn’t tell you how he ran the country “to the ground”! The U.S. government’s imperialistic policy towards Venezuela resulted in the country hating Nixon! However, we as ordinary Americans were well received and respected.
In other words, the United States of America is great in spite of its leaders!

(acerca de 7:29 P.M.) Joyce didn’t go to work today. Instead, she and Leslie went to Birmingham. While I was gone, I understand that Ronnie Harkins telephoned. It is one thing for Joyce to leave or take off work in order to get granny to a doctor appointment: Ronnie understands the situation with granny, i.e. that she is elderly. But for Joyce to neglect work for a pleasure trip to Birmingham: Joyce can make all the smart-ass comments about other people, including Ronnie Harkins, taking off work! In no way does that justify what Joyce did today: If indeed what she did she shouldn’t have.
Not that I care, you understand!
Kayla was here until around 7:08 P.M., having come over by Joyce around 4:15 P.M., when the Birmingham excursion ended.

(5th, About 8:11 A.M.) It goes without saying that I love having Kayla around. For her own self. I don’t think, if she knew, she would mind if analyze her development, her maturation.
However, this analysis is costly: In the vast majority of the visits Kayla make over here in the evenings, she is the sole cynosure – and rightly so – for dinner. Usually the fare is limited to chicken negguts and french fries. Joyce and granny each has slow metabolism: Such a scanty meal can substain them. But me? I don’t think my basal metabolism is still 2000 as it was sixteen years ago, but it is no doubt at least 1000. After all these years, I have a midrif bulge – a pot belly. I am not voluntarily dieting, though: Especially since I am still engaging in physical work. Things beyond my control, however, are forcing me to diet whether I like it or not. Believe it or not, I ate better on the circus than I am here at “home”!

(acerca de 8:39 A.M.) As 7:10 P.M. came and went yesterday evening, WASHINGTON WEEK (7-7:2_ P.M., P.B.S.) had only recently been turned on. So I only watched about two-thirds of the show. But I made up for it later in the evening: I sat through the whole of NOW WITH BILL MOYERS (8-9:00 P.M., P.B.S.), even though I hadn’t originally planned to.
I don’t know why I watch MONK (9-10:00 P.M., U.S.A.): The woman that plays Monk’s nurse is a lousy actress! This was again revealed yesterday evening in the final shot of the program: The so-called “kicker.” The nurse asks to be paid, and when Monk walks away, reacts in disgust. Acting is reacting: It is the quality of these small scenes that determines the caliber of the acting. And this woman “ain’t” got it!

(acerca de 9:16 A.M.) Many are the evenings that I must consume the popcorn from one of those microwave popcorn bags: Popcorn is a good way to “rake in” the calories. Popcorn is also relatively good for one: It sure beats potato chips, which have been prepared by being “deep-fried” in grease.
Linda Lingo, the “office manager” at Carson and Barnes Circus in the early days, use to “explain” to me, during our matutinal informal meetings in her truck before she left for the next town (no, not that kind of meeting!), the personalities of many of the people that I befriended: Frank and Wendy, Etienne (the photographer from Paris that inspired my trip to Europe), Vic Camillo, etc. Her analysis was very close to the truth. But for some reason, I refuse to “accept” the reality. As a result – well, we all know the result!

(acerca de 1_:35 A.M.) I have already “explained” – or make an effort to, as poor as it was – my theory of developing a “character”: One doesn’t play a manufactured Hamlet, but one should play it (Hamlet) as one would react to the external environment that engulfed Hamlet. It is other people and situations that instill a character within one and not one’s own effort.
This is the way Luigi was developed: My lifestyle and behavior were responsible for Luigi, and not anything I was born with. I lived Luigi. And not only that, it was my supposived “friendship” with the likes of Steve and Mary Holt, Richard and Mary Pereles, Vic and Barbara Camillo, Doug Green – shall I go in? It would be “crazy” of me to continue pretending that these people are true friends since I am no longer actively performing Luigi. In retrospect, I value what these people did for me, but damn if I want them around anymore!
It has been said that a writer should isolate her- or himself from society. Maybe and maybe not: This has yet to be seen as it relates to me.

(acerca de 1:20 P.M.) If I said summer has taken Heat with It when It left office, I lied: Heat loves power too much to be loyal to any one season. For instance, the upper-80-degrees (F) have been re-appointed by Fall, over the objections of Lili. Phoebus has more influence in the day than the Tropical Storm does.
Only forty-five minutes of 3-Ball juggling has tired me out! And the forty-five minutes were spread out two sessions. Woe is me!

(acerca de 3:37 P.M.) Which is more physically extracting: Juggling itself, or the too-often bending over to retrieve a dropped ball?
The circumstances surrounding and confronting me really hasn’t changed! Luigi is only responding to them and dealing with them differently. I guess you may describe Luigi as an opportunist. But isn’t that what creating a character is all about? Of course I hope that I am not meeting reality as some one other than me! Hell, there’s enough of that real world-escaping as it is! The whole world is, indeed a stage!
Being oneself in the real world is tough enough! Why add the burden of a “character”?

(acerca de 5:01 P.M.) It would be nice if Deah can make it to 2003 before her “ears are lowered” again! Not that I mind the $25-grooming fee, but I rather not be beholding to Joyce to fulfil my transportation needs.
Kayla left with her parents (the latter only showed up at the last moment) around 4:45 P.M., after being over here from about 1:15 P.M. She made two short trips with Joyce and granny – to McDonald’s and to Winn Dixie – and the trip to take Deah in the hair stylist. But all in all she made the day complete.

(acerca de 6:20 P.M.) Appropos to what I was “saying” earlier: My clowning “career” – as it is with so many artistic careers – required me to sacrifice a “normal” lifestyle for which I am still paying. Apparently, without my knowledge, the Muse must have negotiated a deal where I would pay “payments” for a long time for the “gift” for a few years. It was a good arrangement, I think. But this is why it is so hard to change “careers”! Changing jobs is no problem: It is a lateral move and doesn’t require a major revamping of one’s lifestyle. But a career change: At least from an artistic to a “normal.” Usually the stress to the “spirit” is too much to take. Sometimes I think it is better for the performer to die soon after her or his “career” “dies.”

(6th, About 8:23 A.M.) A little after 10:00 P.M., yesterday evening I took Deah on a walk. I was still in the front yard of this house when two cars came slowly down Princeton Drive from the direction of Forest Hills Drive. I stayed in the yard.
The cars continued on to the “end” of Princeton Drive (the “beginning” of the wooded area). The two cars stopped and parked (there is what use to be a private drive perpendicular to the “end” of Princeton Drive).
With caution Deah and I proceeded down Princeton Drive. We came to a halt a hundred feet or so this side of the parked cars.
People got out of the cars, including some children. They started walking towards us. Deah barked and I began to get scared.
With a surge of courage, Deah and I moved forward. The “gang” walked past us on our left. It was young white males (early- or mid-30’s) and several male kids.
A car headed in the opposite way and driven by a female, pulled up beside me. The driver asked me if I was Jim Veasey’s neighbor. When I answered “yes” she informed me that she was Jim’s sister, that her group was going to roll Jim’s yard. In case I was wondering who the people were, that’s what is going on.
(“Rolling” is throwing undisturbed toilet paper rolls over trees, the toilet paper unrolling to cover the tree in white [or whatever color the toilet paper is]).
I am probably the only one that knows the identity of the roller of Jim Veazy’s yard! I have yet decided what I will do with the information. Supposively “rolling” is a puerile way of showing affection: But I damn sure don’t want it done to this yard! Since I am the only one that knows the identity of the “rollers,” if Jim and Wendy become acquainted with the “decorators” and not hearing it from the “rollers” themselves, it would be obvious who snicked. Retribution could well be a decorated yard at 118 Princeton Drive. And the decoration won’t be in fun!

(acerca de 9:3_ A.M.) The year was 1994. It was the fall of that year. I was in Tuscaloosa, AL, having returned to the University of Alabama for a long-delayed degree. I may have still been living in the YMCA.
I was enrolled via correspondence in an Introduction (?) to Philosophy course. I remember a particular point of discussion: Something about “doing good” by nature or as a result of a learned habit. The benefits and dis-advantages of each side were discussed.
Yesterday evening unf___ habit won out in the television-watching: I just wanted to defy “habit” and watch a non-educational program. AIR FORCE ONE (7-9:00 P.M., ABC) starring Harrison Ford fed the beast in me. It was a suspense thriller: Air Force One, with the president aboard (the plane wouldn’t have been Air Force One without the president on board), was hijacked. It was the president, a former combat pilot, himself that the day.
I became aware of the damage witnessing violence can do to a person: My heart beat increased. My palms went dry. I can well understand how some people may consider these corporal changes a “high,” and become addicted, even if it means arranging the violence themselves. They usually get carried away: The violence they do can be undone.
If it any consolation, I would turn to The History Channel during the movie’s sales pitch: THE SEVEN WONDERS OF THE WORLD was playing from 7:00 until 9:00 P.M., followed by a two-hour discussion on pre-dy___ rulers (I only studied the first hour).

(acerca de 10:55 A.M.) I was not witness to it, but I heard from granny that two deer were in Jim Veazy’s back yard yesterday morning, grazing. I did not want to repeat this “news” in front of Kayla. However, granny did, and the expected results happened: I remained behind when Joyce took granny and Kayla to McDonald’s and later granny shopping. As Joyce told me later – we were in the car, bringing Deah back home from having her hair stolen – granny is child-like herself to have mentioned the deer in front of Kayla: According to Joyce, Kayla cried. This is why I didn’t tell about the deer around Kayla.
More than usual, Joyce was bitchy to a greater extent in regards to granny yesterday. Plus being impatience with Kayla.

(acerca de 12:44 P.M.) In reviewing past volumes of this journal, I can see the danger of “stream of consciousness” writing as suggested by William Faulkner: Punctuation suffers. For one doesn’t think in periods, exclamation points, and colons. In fact, if one transcribes one’s thinking process, there goes syntax, grammer, and all proper sentence construction. If you read some of Faulkner’s writing, you will see what I mean: It is not unusual for him to have a sentence last nearly an entire page! Not knowing what I was doing, I engaged in “Faulkner-esque,” writing, complete with the confusion such a style entails.
Why is it o’kay to burn a cross but not the American flag? People will argue that it is the emotional state of mind behind the latter (a fiery cross is not anti-Christian the way a fiery flag is anti-American, as is commonly believed). But what about the harm done to the country by voter fraud? By littering? By ethnic and/or social profilling? For that matter, burning a cross for the purpose of intimidation is anti-American.

(acerca de 3:52 P.M.) According to an article in today’s “The Daily Home,” a major demarcation between the young and the old is the interest shown in current events: The former, in general, has no interest in all this “dis-information,” whereas the latter does.
As we all know, I try to keep up with current events in order to avoid ignorance in ten years.
Therefore, I must be – old (?!?!).
Lili, or some nefarious weather system, has applied a thin layer of black paint to the undersides of the Clouds that populate the sky. It may be a trick: Storm has been known to do such. Phoebus may be in league with Storm: Most of the time Yellow encircles that black, but every so often, Phoebus leaves temporarily in order to receive instructions from Storm. Like at the moment.
However, the upper-80-degrees (F) “keep on trucking,” unaffected by the Storm-Phoebus co-alition. I doubt if anything comes from the Conference Committee: It is like the U.S. Congress.
By the way, the toilet paper Al fresco decoration yesterday evening was a gift to Colton Veazy: It is his birthday today. He was all excited and honored when he talked with Joyce this morning.

(acerca de 5:13 P.M.) Little did I realize it at the time, but in 1970 a dance to the Negro Spiritual “Sometimes I feel Like a Motherless Child” was specially choreographed by a guest teacher with the Alabama State Ballet. Was I directly involved in the dance? I have forgotten.
I think the guest teacher was Bob Davis: If not for “Motherless Child” then at some other time.
If I am not mistaken, “Sometimes I Fell Like a Motherless Child” was in the repertoire during the Venezuela tour.
The only reason that the Alabama State Ballet toured Venezuela in the first place was so that the father of the lead dancer, Sonja __, could show off his daughter. The father was some supposively major player in business in Venezuela.
Sometimes it’s nice to relive the past and bring it up to date. But I don’t want to make a habit of it: There are too many elements that I don’t want to bring forward, and they may unknowingly hitch a ride with those elements I invite to dinner.

(7th, About 8:25 A.M.) Flash bulbs went off as I was walking Deah around 10:00 P.M., yesterday evening. It reminded me of the photographs of Planet Earth taken from outer space: The pictures show clearly the weather systems surrounding earth. It is always lightning and thundering – as well as raining or snowing – someplace in the world. This area just happen to be in the right place at the right time.
But it isn’t too hard to imagine pre-Space Age atitudes towards lightning and thunder: The vast majority of people were not able to conceive of stormy weather existing as a separate identity and that the earth is at its (storm weather) whim. No wonder an organized religion grew up around this “naivete”: Organized religion is opportunistic, and if there’s a buck to be made from the gods, wouldn’t you believe all that nonsense, too?
Zeus, however, put on quite a show! The lightning was “heat” lightning, though, and Zeus usually only handles the lightning bolt.
As someone might have said in 535 B.C.E., it was as if the gods had gathered together the heat and _ays that Phoebus turned in before It went to the underworld, and given to Phoebe. At first the gods only give Phoebe the lightning in small bundles. But then the courting becomes serious!
A horribly vicious storm! Deah was a frightened child: At one point, for a second or two, the power was dis-mantled by the storm!
The area was wet when I got up this morning: Was it sex fluid from Phoebe? All was awash in semen from the gods? Semen and female sex fluid, if examined under a microscope, are home for a diversity of “critturs”: And was such “critturs” in the gods’ semen and Phoebe’s sex fluid?

(acerca de 9:10 A.M.) Dance grew out of church ritual. I use to tell people – actually, I still do sometimes – that if I ever became interested in organized religion, I would associated myself with the Catholic Church due solely to the histrionics of the mass. The ritual hasn’t changed in essence for thousands of years: What one sees now in Catholic worship, one saw a long time ago. It is a study in Comparative Culture.
In “surfing” the channels on the television set in my room yesterday evening about 7:00 P.M., I came upon a televised service from Vatican City. It was a canonization mass. J___ E___ became the latest saint in the Catholic Church. You may be in shock that I would watch CTV and the most organized of organized religion! But St. Peter’s Cathedral and surroundings are beautifully decorated. Plus, the current “history” of the Catholic Church is interesting.
There was “play by play” commentary by CTV reporters and an official of Vatican City. I found that amusing.
In going back over my past via this journal, I came across a discussion of the movie version of the novel “Bad Seed.” I complained that the film adaptation had the little girl killed by a lightning strike where as the novel has her mother poisoning her (as well as herself [the mother]). To remind you, the little girl kills other children and grown-ups if she wants something, or to prove a point.
The movie was re-done for television ten or fifteen years ago. I remember the ending being almost a duplicate of the book: The mother died from the overdose of sleeping pills but the demon/little girl was affected. If I remember correctly, in fact, the final shot of the “flick” was of the little girl.
I just wanted to clear the record: I wrote the earlier critique before the re-do was done!

(acerca de 10:13 A.M.) As I usually do on Sunday afternoon, I watched THE MCLAUGHLIN GROUP (3-3:25 P.M., P.B.S.) yesterday. Before that, however, I saw about ten minutes of MSNBC LIVE, with guest news analyst Kevin Miller, a WEAC radio talk show host in Birmingham. Surprisingly he didn’t come across as some goofball, confirming people’s stereotype of Alabama.
Later in the evening I made a point of seeing ABC News and NBC News at 5:30 P.M.: I buttoned between the two history shows for about 15-20 minutes.
Storm seems to have ended Its weekend drunk! All is now sunny and bright.

(acerca de 10:42 A.M.) When Anita Matlow suggested that we have separate bedrooms after we marry (how the thought of being legally bound to a woman like Anita Matlow sickens my stomach!), I thought it to be just one more peculiarity of the woman: She has (or had) so many, you know. But “The Forsyte Saga” on MASTERPIECE THEATRE (8-10:00 P.M., P.B.S.) confronted me with reality: Anita Matlow was as reluctant to marry me then as I am sickened by what I almost did! A married couple in “The Forsyte Saga” has the “separate but equal” policy happen to them: By chance, at least as far as the woman is concerned. She married only for money and to avoid having to “work.”
A week or two ago while on the way to work, I was explaining to Leslie about hearing, that it takes two ears to hear properly, one picking up the volume, the other registering the “pitch”; that one didn’t hear in stereo; etc. The reason for this diatribe was because of the state of my head phones: The left “speaker” is gone completely! To get the most from television, I must purchase a new headphones (I was in Radio Shack Friday week, while Hazel was in class [I was working bookstore inventory] but I didn’t know the headphones size for this TV set). I had a hard time hearing the Forsyte: In fact, I probably only picked up a third of the audio. I hope to remedy that awkward situation before another episode of “The Forsyte Saga” is aired next Sunday.

(acerca de 6:28 P.M.) It’s not a question of if I it’s going to Storm: It’s a question of when it’s going to Storm! And how much! I guess I shouldn’t said what I said about Storm earlier in this entry: That It is a drunk. Apparently I pissed It off good!
I had three of my journal volumes perfect bound at The Print Shop for fifteen dollars. And the stupid SOB – Joe Allen? – bound one on the wrong side! It is a record of my attendance at the 1967 Boy Scout World Jamboree in Idaho and notes from fall of 1977. If I was Oriental and read from the “last” page to the “front,” the bound volume would be right. But I “ain’t” Oriental! Granted, the left-hand edge of the pages were in bad shape and maybe he couldn’t have bound them with a plastic spiral! He will re-do his “mistake” at no charge there’s no doubt about it!

(acerca de 7:34 P.M.) As soon as I was back in the car after picking up my journal volumes, Leslie stated, “This time put them in a better place!” or something like that. I thought she was referring to how I neglected my journal that made repair necessary in the first place. But she was “suggesting” (if I may use that term) that I don’t put the journal volumes on the file cabinet outside Joyce’s office: Leisa may read them. She (Leslie) then told me about a lot of snooping Leisa has done, including going through Joyce’s purse not long after she (Joyce) started working at CACC. Leisa’s excuse was that she was looking for a key.
I handed the volumes to Joyce to store in her office, which she did: On the floor beneath her computer. How do I know that Joyce didn’t read them?
Not upholding Leisa in any way – I know from my bookstore days that she is a two-face, back-stabbing bitch – but she may not be aware of what she is! She may not be able to help herself. It may be a “disability”!
That’s not my concern, though. It’s that I was too concern with my journal: Something like what happened was bound to happen! Joe (or whoever it was) was only doing what he thought was the best thing for my journal. Little did he suspect that I wanted as little done as possible, contrary to normal customer desire.


(8th, About 7:45 A.M.) What horror! I realize that a mimeograph machine was still in use when I was in grammer school! It seems to me that ink had to be hand-applied to rollers in order to make copies of typed memos, etc. How barbaric and rustic! There’s no getting around the fact: If the mimeograph machine is more than a museum piece for me, I am indeed Old! Or has technology updated printing so rapidly? In truth it‘s a bit of both, but unfortunately a lot of the former! continued)
































































































































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