In Part 15, I shared with you my unique ability to day dream right before going to sleep where these dreams would continue. And they were so real that I felt I was really there. But I needed to change some things. I was always able to remember my dreams in the morning because I would jot down notes right when I woke up. This would embed the dream into memory by forcing myself to recall what happened. Sure, I was in control of the day dream – right up to the point of falling asleep, but then the adventures would begin. My conscious mind was not formulating or directing anything that was happening. And now I was trying to use this ability to travel to places I had been with the goal of interacting with people I knew. Whether it was real or not, never occurred to me … being 15 years old and feeling like I was immortal and could do anything.
So I was talking to one of my best friends about this … we’ll call him Mike … and he said that I had two choices to try and fix the haziness (as he called it) of being able to interact with people I knew. The first was to start smoking pot (this was the 70s after all) and the second choice was to read the book ‘Seth Speaks’ by Jane Roberts. I opted for the second choice (not having ever seen pot). But I did ask, “Can I have some of that? Just in case the book thing doesn’t work.” Mike told me to take a hike since the stuff wasn’t free. So I opted to get the book.
This dude named Seth channeled through Jane Roberts and she wrote books about it. The one thing … crap … I’ve hit the 2 paragraph wall … just when it was getting interesting. Heck, I’ve had people tell me it’s all interesting. Of course these people think I’m insane so what the heck.
NEXT WEEK – I’m about to do what?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by TRAX nightclub: founded in 1981 and began operation in the spring of 1982. I left the club at the end of 1983. It went on for a few years and eventually folded after the building and land were sold to UVa. This week’s blog is also brought to you by the fine folks behind THE SAVIOR PROJECT. Hop on over to www.saviorproject.com and find out what all the buzz is about. The new book, THE CHOSEN ONE, can explain a lot of it, and can be found at these fine retailers:
Ebook & paperback on AMAZON
Ebook & paperback on BARNES & NOBLE
Ebooks only …
The ebook is only $2.99 and the paperback is only $7.99.
Thanks for joining me. And here’s a pic the TRAX nightclub logo – the best nightclub ever … for which I named the club, designed the logo, and drew all the drafts and final version. I still have the original artwork. I was a graphic artist back then … a REAL one. We didn’t have the benefit of computers. It was all hand drawn. And I didn’t have those colorful wavy lines in the original. I found this version on the net I also booked the bands for the club. That was the coolest job ever. It wasn’t a job, it was a blast. My days at TRAX could be a book unto itself. Oh well. Lots of books to write and so little time. CYA next week.
You like the blog so far?
In Part 14, I got myself back on track to tell the story of becoming a writer, having strayed a bit due to the action, etc. Now I’m back in the states, really ticked off that I didn’t get to see Rita, and determined to do something about it. What I did was realize that I was just starting high school and had absolutely no power (money = power) to do anything about seeing her any time soon. Sure we wrote to each other and she said she would like to immigrate to America. But I knew that would take years. All I had were dreams.
Yes, I’m a dreamer. Just ask anyone that knows me. (Heck, I’m trying to make it as a writer … I must be a dreamer.) With such a vivid imagination (as my Mother used to say) I have always been able to force myself to dream, either in the daytime when doing nothing (like sitting in boring chemistry class … hey, to a 15 year old … that’s doing nothing) and especially at night right before going to sleep. I could come up with all kinds of action packed scenarios that I would be involved in from flying B-17 bombers over Europe during the war to being the last person on the planet fanatically trying to find another human being. (I always did of course … and was she ever … wait … there I go again) But the strength of my dream capabilities was that after falling asleep, whatever I was making myself dream would usually continue. You’ve heard people say that the last thing in the mind is usually what you’ll dream about. That’s when I decided to dream about being in Europe, Italy to be exact. But the dreams just weren’t right. I was trying to be in places that I had been and interact with people but it kept getting hazy or cloudy … fuzzy or whatever you want to call it. It just wasn’t real enough. So I was talking with one of my best friends about this and … oh well, shucky darn and slop the chickens … I have to stop. That was supposed to be a new paragraph. This is where that promise to keep it short comes back to haunt me. And you?
NEXT WEEK – Can I have some of that?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by Environmental Systems of America. This fine environmental consulting firm was at one time THE premier group of environmental and recycling experts in the USA. That is until one of the partners decided to cook the books and brought the whole thing down. Oh well, greed does things to people. Do you know of anyone who would really sponsor this blog? If so, please email me. I could use all the help I can get.
Be sure to visit www.saviorproject.com.
Thanks for joining me. And here’s a pic of the planet Terlokya. As a matter of fact, this is on the cover of book 2. Looks like Earth … but it’s not. Chris Gates is there right now. Well almost. That moon you see there in the upper right hand corner is called Donar. Wish you could go? Get the book The Chosen One and start your journey. CYA next week.
Well, was that blog catchy or what?
In Part 13, my brother and I had barely escaped from unknown parts of Naples Italy with our lives. My obnoxious behavior at Rita’s apartment building almost got us arrested. But we got away. The next day we did the pleading with the parents for a chance to go back so I could see Rita. No dice. We drove through Italy and made it to Monaco in time to celebrate New Year’s Eve in the heart of the Mecca of gambling. And the Mecca of drinking too I might add. Since I missed out on having my only chance of seeing my Italian Goddess, I figured I’d get wasted. That’s always a good plan when you’re only 14. While my parents roamed the glitzy casinos with all the tuxes and high flutin’ dresses, both of my brothers and I figured this was a once in a lifetime opportunity: to party BIG TIME.
But alas, I stray again. This is supposed to be about “The Odyssey of This Writer”, not about the drunken, womanizing debauchery of me when I was in my early teens. Sooooo … let’s get this puppy back on track and tell the real story. (Sure … I’ll write a book about the other part … someday.) The point is, is that I didn’t get to see Rita in Italy. And that haunted me all the way back to the states. We were still writing each other and she chastised me a bit for causing such a HUGE disturbance in her neighborhood that night back in Naples. As a matter of fact, Rita told me her parents had forbid her to see “That American” since I was sure to lead her down the path of destruction … just like our country did to everyone else. I tell you … I REALLY wish I had met her parents. I would have had a few words for them. And I actually did get to meet her parents. It all happened … Oh crap … this is where a new paragraph is supposed to start. I guess we’ll have to wait till next week.
NEXT WEEK – Who gave me this book?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by Peoples Drug Store. Why? Because they don’t exist. They were bought by a big conglomerate years ago. Do you actually think I have REAL sponsors? I mean look at what I’m writing about … drinking, pushing the limits of the law, etc. Do you think someone would really sponsor this? If so, please email me. I could use the dough.
Be sure to check out the book trailer for THE CHOSEN ONE -http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDTsM3qkAOA . People say it’s really cool. And of course, links to buy the book, THE CHOSEN ONE, are right there at www.saviorproject.com.
Thanks for joining me. And here’s another random pic that I just happen to like. This is a pic of a kid (he’s 26, but still a kid to me,) who grew up with my oldest son. He’s a Marine serving in Afghanistan on the front lines. I am so proud of him and thankful that we have such a dedicated young person protecting us … from what I’m not sure of … but that’s another story. He’s in there, he does what he’s ordered to do, and I just want him to come home safe … and alive. I want all of them to come home safe … and alive. CYA next week.
Well, did you like the blog or what?
In Part 12, my brother and I were clear across Naples Italy with me yelling and banging on the entrance door to an apartment building. I was really hoping someone would answer the door. Instead we see an Italian Police car screech to a halt at an adjoining street. I was hoping they would be turning down the opposite way from us. Hoping was the key word. What was happening though was the Polizia di Stato (State Police) car accelerated backwards, then spun it’s tires as it turned down the street towards us. We quickly hopped over a railing and headed down a very narrow alley right next to the building, running for dear life. Neither of us looked back. We came out onto some brightly lit boulevard and immediately saw a bus stop with a bus sitting there. After scrambling onto it, I dumped a bunch of money into the till to avoid any confrontation with the driver. We sat down in the middle of the half packed bus. It’s was close to 1:30 AM but Italy seems to never sleep. At least at night. I asked my brother if we could get off at the next stop and go back to try one more time and he immediately spewed the English version of cuss words that the previous bus driver had used in Italian. But he did it very quietly … right into my ear. Needless to say, we were heading back to the hotel.
The next morning, none of the pleading, begging, or moping would convince my parents to drive by Rita’s for just 5 minutes. Nope. Had a schedule to keep. And it didn’t involve helping me out at all. We had to get to Pompeii, then get ourselves back up north and through Switzerland to spend New Year’s Eve in Monaco. Joy for me. What the heck was I going to do? I knew this was going to be the only trip to Italy. I had to come up with a plan. I’ll tell you what that was next week.
NEXT WEEK – Now what?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by Miller Lite Ice, the best beer ever made and packing a punch of 7% alcohol content. It was last brewed in the mid 90s. That’s why they are a sponsor.
Be sure to check out the series website for THE CHOSEN ONE. All links for everything related to The Savior Project are right there at www.saviorproject.com.
Thanks for joining me. And here’s another pic of that favorite person of mine that I shared last time. CYA next week.
Well, tell me how you liked the blog … or not?
In Part 11, I moved the story along past the summer fling to Christmas time where my family was in Italy for the holidays. We finally arrived in Naples and I knew I was going to get to see Rita. One of my brothers and I made plans to sneak out the first night so I could go see Rita. However, we ran into a bit of a snag. Our parents decided to speed up our time in Naples so we could squeeze in a trip further south to Pompeii. That meant we were only going to be in Naples for one night. And to make matters worse, we ended up staying out late taking in all the attractions that would have been spread over two days and two nights. By the time we got back to the hotel and had dinner, it was close to 11:00 pm. Rita’s family didn’t have a phone of their own. The apartment building they lived in had a shared hallway phone. And it’s not like I could whip out my cell and make a quick call like you can now. Finally after my parents went to be in their room, my brother and I made our escape.
I’d like to point out that two American kids, a 14 and a 15 year old, really aren’t adept at putting together a good plan to get from one side of Naples to the other side … at midnight … in a foreign country … and neither of us spoke the language. We just thought that we’d hop on a bus and be merrily transported to the address that I would give the bus driver. Needless to say, when I tried to talk to the driver about where we were going, I heard probably the fastest stream of Italian cuss words ever spoken. I’m not sure if that had to do with the fact that we were Americans or that we couldn’t figure out the bus fare. After giving the driver a boatload of change (probably way too much though). We finally arrived (1/2 hour later) at Rita’s apartment building … close to midnight … everything was dark … and the front door to the building was locked. I told my brother I didn’t come all this way to fail and not see Rita, so I knocked on the door. No one came. I knocked louder. I waited and no one came. I banged on the door and waited. Still no one. So I banged on the door and yelled Rita’s name. Finally someone came. But it wasn’t who we wanted. Down the street … Uh oh … this is supposed to be a new paragraph. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
NEXT WEEK – How will I ever see you again?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by the Northrop University, founded in 1942 by Jack Northrop of Northrop Aviation. Originally named the Northrop Aeronautical Institute, the school opened for classes in June 1946 to 412 students. In August 1993, Northrop University, located in Inglewood California, closed its doors. That’s why they were easy to get as a sponsor.
And check out the book trailer for The Chosen One from The Savior Project series. Here’s the link - www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDTsM3qkAOA
Remember, the ebook is only $2.99 and the paperback is only $7.99 and can found at these fine retailers:
OF NOTEWORTHINESS – I was surprised at the number of followers, friends, enemies, and random people that chastised me for not telling the whole story about Rita. I’ve even been getting calls on my cell asking for the details. Really? Have you no imagination? Funny thing is … all of the requests came from people over 35. I had some readers under 25 tell me I did the right thing and they could figure it out. What does that say about youth?
Thanks for joining me. A pic of one of my favorite people is below. CYA next week.
Well, what did you think of this week’s blog?
In Part 10, you found out about my great liquid lunch, my face-plant right in front of the Italian goddess, and how she snuck me back into school. But alas, I believe I have strayed from the original intent of the story. I became involved with the details of the catalyst that led to my wonderful travels which eventually led to me becoming a writer. But Rita was the incentive for me to try some unusual things to keep in touch with her. But now, I’m starting to get ahead of myself. So let’s just move the story along and say that by the time the school session ended and we all were about to leave, I was a different guy. Plus I was totally smitten with Rita. Duh. I believe the last day of school was rougher for me then for her. A few years after all of this drama, I began to realize that to Rita, this was just a summer fling. But to me … well … it was everything. But on that last day, we did make plans to write to each other at least once a week, and we knew we would see each other over Christmas. During the upcoming Christmas holiday, my family had already made plans to travel from our home in Germany to all the big tourist attractions in Italy. And that included the city that Rita lived in, Naples.
Back at home in Freiburg, it was actually good for both of us to carry on the correspondence because we were both writing in German. She didn’t write well in English, and I had learned a little Italian from her (my Gibberish was better than my Italian) but I couldn’t write a lick. So we did write weekly in German. That helped in school since I was in a German school. But that‘s a whole different story. Christmas time finally came and I was so excited I could hardly wait to hit the road. The wonderful thing about the Autobahn and Autostrada running from Germany thru Switzerland and into Italy was there were no speed limits. And my parents were intent on making good time. So 90 mph in the new Volvo was no problem. Of course we were being passed by Mercedes, BMWs, and even a few Ferraris doing about 120 – 150 but that was to be expected. It was a blast. We started in the northern Italian cities and eventually made our way down the western coast to Rome where we spent a few days including Christmas day. Our next destination was Naples. When we finally arrived … dang it. New paragraph time. You know the rules.
NEXT WEEK – Where are you?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by the Stinson Aircraft Corporation, founded in Dayton, Ohio, in 1920 by aviator Edward “Eddie” Stinson. It’s out of business now … that’s why I was able to get them as a sponsor. And make sure you get the book, The Chosen One from The Savior Project series. Hop on over to www.saviorproject.com and find out what all the buzz is about.
The ebook is only $2.99 and the paperback is only $7.99.
Thanks for joining me. A random pic is below for no reason what-so-ever.
DISCLAIMER – I had many followers, friends, enemies, and random people plead with me to not cut the Rita story short – to tell all the details. I’m a gentleman. I can’t do that. CYA next week.
Well, what do you think of the blog so far?
As promised: my blog-the Tuesday edition, Part 10 - The Odyssey of this Writer. Posted once a week and kept short. Follow if you dare & click if you like for a heckava ride.
Please do me a favor and click ‘like’ if you are following the blog by just reading it – leave a comment if you are following it as a follower.
In Part 9, I told how Rita had come over to my desk and asked for a pencil on the second day of classes. And even though we were in a German language school and I also had thought I had mastered English already, after she asked for the pencil I became fluent in gibberish. I believe I answered her question with, “Blubbett erfiya durst.” Needless to say, after class my brother took me into town for lunch and beer to try and help me talk to older women. Remember, Rita was 18 and I was 14. This trek into town was in between classes. Had I mentioned that I was only 14 and my brother was 15? Perfectly legal in Germany. This had ‘GOOD IDEA’ written all over it. NOT. So it was about 2 or 3 or 4 hours after we had actually finished lunch that we staggered out of wherever we were and headed back up the hill to school. And on the way coming down the path, guess who is bounding merrily along with her girlfriends? Well, it wasn’t the Tooth Fairy. Rita came right up to me and with a big smile, asked me how were things in town and why did I miss the afternoon sessions. Well, this provided a great opportunity for me to hone up on my Gibberish, which I proceeded to do perfectly with an added drunken stupor mixed in. My brother had abandoned me in favor of making time with 2 Czechoslovakian beauties so I was left to my own stupidity.
I think I somehow got out of that mess because I fully believe those girls thought I was this worldly American speaking yet another language; one that had a lot of slurred words in it. And it also caused me to stagger and stumble when speaking it. Ah yes, a very difficult language indeed. Anyway, Rita actually sensed that I was a bit, how shall I say this without being crude … DRUNK. My brother had somehow disappeared with his new found Czech girlfriends and I was alone with the red haired goddess. Being in total control of the situation, I proceeded to fall flat on my face. Literally. What a great impression I was making. Rita got me up, and dabbed at the bleeding cut on my forehead with a tissue while trying not to laugh too hard. She then told me that she was going to take me back up to school, sneak me in so the teachers and administrators wouldn’t see that I was drunk, (Was it that obvious?) and put me to bed. (Really?) She managed to sneak me upstairs without anyone seeing us. It was dinner time and everyone else was in the cafeteria while I was just getting back from lunch. Anyway, we were walking down the upper hallway, well, she was walking and I was kind of stumbling along while she was supporting me. I noticed that we passed by my dorm room and went down to the end of the hall. Oh darn … this is where a new paragraph needs to start and that means I’ve already hit 2 paragraphs. I can’t break my own rules. Sorry.
NEXT WEEK – Now where am I?
This week’s blog has been brought to you by the UVa Drinking Team: founded in 1985 and disbanded in 1985. We still practice but have not participated in any actual events since being disbanded. This week’s blog is also brought to you by the fine folks behind The Savior Project. Hop on over to www.saviorproject.com and find out what all the buzz is about. The new book, The Chosen One, can explain a lot of it. And that book can be found at these fine retailers:
Ebook & paperback on AMAZON
Ebook & paperback on BARNES & NOBLE
The ebook is only $2.99 and the paperback is only $7.99.
Thanks for joining me. A pic of the book cover is below. CYA next week.
So … what do you think of the blog so far?
The Tuesday edition Will be out in time. Did anyone doubt me?