My Two Dannys

I was 16 years old when I met Danny Bass. Kenny, a friend of mine, and I were sitting by the Jax Bch Pier, when Danny passed in front of us. Kenny called out, and Danny came over and talked with us. I immediately liked him. He had stellar mannerisms. He smiled, chatted with ease, and had an award, winning smile.

Kenny and I were the odd couple. He had muscular dystrophy and I had a car. That day, those moments, were the beginning of the end.

I had spent the last 5 months, picking Kenny up; driving to the beach, where his sister lived and smoking copious amounts of pot. I’m sure we were in blue jeans, t-shirts and tennis shoes, when that chance meeting occurred. Soon after, I saw Danny at school, and we became fast friends. He introduced me to my new, and peculiar, Westside group, which was to become known as The Funk Crew, Kenny included, as well as Rooster, Mark, Friz Whiz, Chuck, Deena, David, Lil Deb, Danny, the Session brothers, and more. We all stayed “friends”, for years, until we weren’t anymore.

Danny was the hub.

When Danny graduated, he wanted to go to college. He had his own apartment, in high school. I can remember seeing him at his kitchen table. He had tried to get into FCCJ, and couldn’t. He had a job, throughout the twelfth grade, supporting himself. He was a dock loader at UPS. He didn’t know what he was going to do. I told him I could get him a job, no problem. He went to work for my Father’s company, and he became, one of us. All of my family took him in; my Dad, my brother-in-law, my sister, everyone liked him. It would be hard, to not like Danny.

Continue reading My Two Dannys

Disavow Disgrace

I commented on a facebook post, confessing to a criminal act, that occurred around 45 years ago.

The post was about the struggles, of a single parent, working and living on a wage that barely made ends meet, and when the car breaks down, or the electric bill rises, the person can no longer keep up. They are in trouble. They slide down hill.

I had years like that, that were back breaking. Events in life, that were simple for others, were insurmountable hurdles, for me.

Continue reading Disavow Disgrace

There’s No Place Like Home

Home is a mindset; fixed vs. growth.

  • 1.A drunk, middle aged, uneducated redneck. Aimless and unknowingly lost.
  • 2.A sad mother. She tried, working middle of the road jobs, going nowhere.
  • 3.A whiskey drinker and business operator, at the end of his rope. Thrown into a world over his head. Living in a sink or skim environment, he is gasping for breath.
  • 1. An elder retiree. She once was the boss. Having spent 35 years in a cubicle, pleasing her mother, she is stiff as a board.
  • 2. Her sister. The big one. She thrives on chaos. As the younger ones surround her, she promotes, ill health, obesity and teenage pregnancy. She’s the hero.

There was the great escape. It included domestic violence and poverty. A step out of family. A run down the road. A deep, internal instinct that things weren’t right.  Dodging adversity, with a never ending desire to change and elevate, the trot became a gallop. 

Who wants to be “poor white trash”.

At least get a two year degree. Read a book. 

Try a Faulkner novel.

Put a Flower on it –

I’m sitting on my couch, my daughter laying sixty feet away, suffering with cancer. I have chosen to not write about this, in the past, because it’s too personal, too overwhelming and there has been too much conflict.

I came home from Costa Rica, February 18, 2019, on an emergency ticket. I went straight to the hospital and proceeded to fall apart. Little by little, I have pieced myself back together, as I sit on the sidelines and watch her CANCER process, played out with the doctors, my sister and her father.

I disagree with everything they do.

I’m about living, not dying.

It’s all quite complicated.

Cancer is personal.

Flower or no flower.

Be Saved From the Beautiful Lies

 

I haven’t posted for a while, and don’t plan to post anymore. I wanted to wind Fish Eye Farm, up with witty and philosophical words.

However, my family has been so outrageously dysfunctional lately, that I chose to just let it go, and take things day by day. ( a “secret to my happiness”, which I will call success.)

I stumbled onto this video. At a moment when I felt so down, I watched it and it gave me the second wind that I need. Continue reading Be Saved From the Beautiful Lies

Juke Joint Jesus

We know it was hard; so conflicting. All the alcohol, church and backwoods neighbors, created a confusing life. Come to Jesus and daily violence, were family tradition. Wearing beautiful clothes and farm work were contrary concepts. Roadside bus stops gave way to neon signs, in tavern windows. Continue reading Juke Joint Jesus