If You Grew Up In Jacksonville

But you lived so far out in the woods, that no one gets it. I just joined a group by this title. I commented on a man’s question “what’s the big deal about your ability to crack a whip?” He might be from Jacksonville, but he surely is not a Floridian.

Someone called Dallas Thomas an evil man. There was some mention of corruption. Like it is a thing of the past.

I always liked Mr. Thomas and his wife Gloria. Yes, he was an embezzler, but the current Judge Dearborn patted my sister on her head for embezzlement. I think you get lessons in embezzlement when you work for the State Attorney’s Office.

She worked in a cubicle for 35 years. I went to her retirement party. She was complimented on giving all the local government attorneys their start. She should have been one herself. But our mother was more about secretarial work for women, even though she owned the largest non-union mechanical contracting company in the city.

If you grew up in Jacksonville, it’s according to where in Jax. Who were your parents? Who were their parent’s? Did you go to Dorothy Warren Willard’s School of Dancing?

Who shot who?

It was a blessing one great uncle didn’t shoot anyone trying to kill a fly on the butter dish. (that wasn’t there) He was high on cocaine. Which was common in those days, because you bought it at the pharmacy.

Survival Tips on Growing up in Jacksonville

Don’t fuck with certain people. (you know who they are)

Learn to throw a punch and duck.

Carry a gun in your pocket book.

Learn to drive a car, ride a motorcycle and a horse. (you never know when you will have to make a quick getaway) And it doesn’t hurt to fly a plane.

Know how to jump out of window and run through the swamp.

Keep your mouth shut.

Know those judges and embezzlers, and House Representatives.

Help them to get elected.

Be an Olympic like swimmer.

Ski

Praise the Lord

Keep you house clean. Lift the corner of the rug and sweep all dirt underneath.

Angele Dulin

My grandmother. Brought from Paris. (Suresnes, Hauts de Seine, Lee – de – France)

I want to know the story. More. I have scoured ancestry.com and discovered more than I wanted to know, at the time. She was sixteen years old and lied to, by my grandfather. She was a WWII war bride. She went from Paris to Bainbridge Ga. Her name is on the walls of Ellis Island.

I wish I had inherited those lips.

What a history my family has.

My father was born into poverty. Deep poverty. He was born into violence, as his father was. That was the excuse for his insanities. He wanted out and he got out. He fought his way out.

We are all still surviving.

My grandmother committed suicide in March 1957. The most popular song of that year was The People of Paris.

How to Create a Character *

You have one man, with volcanic rage, simmering below the surface of his skin. You have one woman who is iron clad and formidable, prepared to protect the family at all cost. Each has their own story, steeped in alcohol, violence and money. Smiles would turn to grimaces – smile, frown – smile, frown – it was a dodge ball game. You would eventually get slammed.

Then take the kid. Twelve years old, eager to please; anxious to get every detail correct.

The man had given orders, “Go saddle up my horse”. Continue reading How to Create a Character *

Dark or Dumb

Rich people don’t tell their secrets. That would be dumb. People want to believe that those with money behave in a certain way. It’s only the poor and depraved that rob, molest, rape, maul or are just plain mean spirited.

We know that’s not true, if you can believe anything in the movies. Everything is true except for what is made up. That is the nature of stories.

So, those with a little cash in their pocket don’t want to say that their children are alcoholics and drug addicts. They don’t want to say an overdose was really an overdose. They want the attention to be diverted, to someone far away, who could be doing God knows what. Talk about them in a negative way. Not that boy who was a cowboy hero. He died with his boots on.

She laid in the bed at the Howard Johnson’s Motel. Her ribs were broke. Her eyes were black. They played cards. We bowled.

Believe what you want.

I’ll believe anything these days. Judge Dearborn, the only probate judge in Jacksonville, Florida had no problem with them committing felony fraud, as long as they put the money back.

I bet people who rob minute markets wish they could get that deal. And why shouldn’t they? It should be the new rule. If you get caught pay the money back and everything is ok. If they could do it, why shouldn’t other people.

White collar crime baby.

Dark or dumb?

*an added thought – Judge Dearborn was plain faced and no emotion. Retired Don Wright. Attorney at law laughed about the theft. He said, any normal family would accept it. They gave the money back. Does that mean that Judge Dearborn and Don Wright can be robbed and if the robber is caught they will plainly accept or laugh and smile and say, “no problem,” just give me my money back.

*For some reason, I don’t think so.

Ocean Educated

My mother would drive us out of the swamp, to the ocean once a year. Then in 1966 she bought the beach house. – she kept one hand on an oak tree and the other on a palm – thank you Mama – Now I get to pass it on. It’s not for everybody. Thank God ~

Content – Content

I don’t even know what a markdown is, but there was a reference to premium content. This is premium life information. Isn’t it odd that content and content is the same and different word. Opposites. Content is marketed to YOU to stimulate interest in something that you don’t need and will create dis-content. Effective they say.

I’m no C.S. Lewis. But he did say envy is the path to hell. Think about it.

  • The last two comments concerning content, I wanted to Bold but couldn’t, because the first is a market content. Which I would have to subscribe and pay for. Presumably to try and make money.
  • The second was I wanted to italicize, which I couldn’t because it was a content Markdown.
  • I really enjoyed the origin of the word – from Mid-Evil Latin – to contain

ARE YOU CONTAINED!

Forgotten/Not Forgotten

I keep journals. Note books I use to help me find peace and sort my life out. Thoughts on friends and finances.

I make changes in my life. However, I have the tendency to repeat. When writing things down, it becomes obvious.

The photo on the left is of my friend Connie. She was loved by many people. I had written about being with her when she passed, 2015. In the photo, we were at the funeral of Rachael Sutton. (She initiated Starting Point – you know it or you don’t.)

Connie passed with lung cancer.

As she was dying, she told me stories of her life. They were great stories. She didn’t want anyone to know. They were antics of her mother, Hazel. Poor Hazel.

I never knew Hazel, but I admired her in a way that Connie couldn’t. She wasn’t my mother.

Follow Your Bliss

I have been following Auntie Bubba for years. From back in the days when there weren’t as many blogs. You wrote and posted. The title and image would come up on a page and you could browse and read. They hadn’t yet come up with the algorithms where they steer you like cattle through a gap. She was in Paris, when I first started reading. Then she went to San Francisco. Got a scooter. Went swimming down by the SF bridge. Moved out of an apartment. Got money. Went to school. She’s is or was a burning man participant. She figures out how to make things happen for her. She documents it.

I have sponsored people much younger than myself and I advise them to check out her blog. You can do. You can achieve. There are hiccups. Right now she is having surgeries and she gets in the pool. Something I advise people to do to heal. But will they do it. Hell no.

I too follow my bliss. And yes, it’s a lot of hard work. And a lot of letting go.

We only have one life – that I know of. I’ve been on one adventure after another. I am getting older and you would think it’s easier. But it’s not. It’s the same. You have a plan, obstacles, hurdles and dismounts. The idea is to enjoy the journey.

Writing helps.

I can look back and know where I’ve been. WOW….it’s a lot.

I am planning a trip to Bocas Del Torro and it feels daunting. Every thing use to be so dirt cheap. I don’t like spending money. Now there’s the COVID issue. Planes don’t have flights they use to have. You have to meet mandatory dead lines on tests.

WTF – you use to just use to have to consider marauders and murderers. Now that isn’t even an issue. I guess they are staying home to be COVID safe.

Now it’s high priced rooms and boat trips…..I can do this. – More will be revealed.

Thank you Auntie Bubba. You are an inspiration. Life is out there. Do it!

I am taking an ounce of my own advice.