I was working on this a few months ago and I put it away because I - TopicsExpress

I was working on this a few months ago and I put it away because I wasnt digging it too much. I took it out this morning and I,m going to take another crack at doing something with it now......Thought Id share an excerpt with you if you like reading this stuff I write... Its a bit long for Facebook standards, but what the hell. Im going to have been around for 53 years on Tuesday so I thought this would fit with the occasion...Hope you had a good sleep and are waking up bright and shiny.xo 1961 First Animal, the dog Blackie returns from space aboard Sputnik 9 Elizabeth Gurley Flynn (70) becomes president of the U.S. communist party The Beatles first performance at the Cavern Club White Mob attacks freedom riders in Montgomery Alabama 27 freedom riders arrested in Mississippi President Kennedy establishes Peace Corps Walt Disneys 101 Dalmatians released Poppin fresh Pillsbury Dough Boy introduced Russian ballet dancer Rudolph Nureyev defects to West in Paris James R. Hoffa elected chairman of Teamsters 1st episode of Dick Van Dyke show U.S. performs nuclear test at Nevada site Soviet Union tests a 58 megaton hydrogen bomb Gypsy closes on Broadway after 702 performances Disgruntled employee sets fire to a circus tent in Brazil The copy of my birth certificate has seen much better days. Since the day I was handed the important document printed with the white typeface on the black ink smeared paper, its spent the years crammed inside of an old cardboard shoe box along with expired appliance warranties, bank statements, old check stubs, and the phone numbers of people whos faces I cant recall, and who I have no idea how, and for what reason I ever knew at all. My father wrote down artist as his occupation. There was no blank space provided for my mother to fill in her occupation. The few other details that havent worn themselves off the ragged stained piece of paper state that I was born in Harbor City, California- a small town that borders The port town of San Pedro to the south, Carson and Wilmington to the east, Torrance to the north, and Lomita to the west. My parents were living on Rockefeller Lane at the time in Redondo Beach. I have no recollection of Rockefeller Lane- It wasnt until my parents saved up enough money to buy the house in Hermosa Beach that the world outside my mothers womb began to make enough sense for me to start taking notes- short remembrances as ragged and as hard to decipher as my birth certificate. Of the few I can remember, most seem to take place in the small rooms of that house, one block away from the ocean. They dimly appear, drenched in sepia tones and late afternoon shadows- as if the window blinds have been yanked down to block the sun . Now and then a breeze glides in off the ocean for just a quick moment, allowing a tiny flash of light inside. Just enough light to ignite a memory. POW! WHAM!! ZAP!! BIFF!! SMACK!!! Batman and Robin land kicks and punches! Bright colors glow and jump out off the screen at me! To this day I still dig the fight song that played in sync along with all the action. The Riddler: Black mask, tight green leotard, black question marks, pomade shiny slicked back hair. I was already becoming attracted to the those I was not supposed to like. Sometimes a memory might find its way inside dancing across the breeze upon a faint melody. A static electric melody that sounds as if it were playing on a tiny hand held a.m radio. The few songs I can remember from those days seemed to carry with them a sentiment of anguish and longing. They also carried with them the feeling as if heavy storm clouds sat waiting on the horizon for just the right moment to swoop in and wreak havoc. Counting flowers on the wall, it dont bother me at all. Playing solitaire till dawn with a deck of 51 …those words still creep me out today. Even back then my imagination was able to conjure the image of a comatose bedraggled man sitting alone in a dingy room staring at the wall smoking cigarettes. This diamond ring doesnt shine for me anymore.This diamond ring doesnt mean what it did before… That one brought about the image of a pale malnourished guy wiping away his tears, who also sits alone in a dingy room with a broken heart. Once, as we strolled what was left of the battered midway of the old Long Beach Pike Amusement Pier, and as the Diamond Ring song blared from one of the tinny sounding speakers that sat outside of the Laff In The Dark ride, my mom told me she hated that song. it reminds me of when you were born. Apparently I was one of those kids who cried all night and day. Teens fresh out of high school , when my parents were in their teens, had it drilled in their heads that they were expected to partner up, get married, and have kids weather or not they wanted, or were ready to. Another fact that both my parents have confessed to me at different times. Faceless nameless older women sometimes drift back in darkened shapes that shift about slow and silent from room to room in that small house by the sea. We had a number of different sitters in our charge shortly after my parents opened their hamburger joint The Surfboarder around the block on 22nd street. My only recollection of any swift movement on the sitters behalf was the day a seagull flew into the house and got trapped- The babysitters pale flabby arms swing about the room wildly straining to reach out from the tight constraint of her dark sensible dress . Her thick legs are bound in therapeutic hose and thick orthopedic shoes lumber back and fourth frantically trying to capture the bird and take it outside. I can still see the action. I cant hear the soundtrack. Theres another babysitter flashback I can still remember. its become more clear and radiant since my brother passed away.. Our babysitter Leatrice. She comes back in full color. Black arms sway, black hands clap. The bright sleeveless blouse and tight gold capris . She sings her song to my brother who is barely able to stand. My Paul-ee can snap his fingers shake his shoulders… Paul cant snap his fingers, but he gives it his best pinching his index fingers to his thumbs in rhythm to her rhyme. His fingers move just like the sand crabs that lived beneath the sand. Sand crabs that would lightly pinch and tickle our toes on days we would all walk the shoreline. Sometimes that song will find its way back onto the tip of my tongue. I cant recall the full song, but those few bars are just enough to bring my brother dancing back to life as I remember him then.