Miss Tammy Maries' Blog

{December 4, 2012}   Save Me

God save me
Take me away from the pain.
I’m losing my faith.
My life. My vision. My passion.
There’s no compassion.
This pain is forever lasting.
I’m fasting,
Trying to find grace.
Get my mind out of this place.
My soul cries out.
I want to scream.
Trying to get redeemed.
The devil is in disguise,
Being fake, and trying to act wise.
All his lies.
Trying to tempt,
As he pretends.
He is picking at my brain.
Straight driving me insane.
I’m going crazy.
Trying not to let him phase me.
Look him in the eyes,
I see the hate.
I look to the Light,
I see true praise.
Please, Lord, let this be a phase.
Make him go away.
I want him to decay.
Please make him fade.
I can’t take it any more.
My heart I pour,
As I’m trying to ignore.
He is coming at me hard core.
Worse than before.
Lord save me.
Embrace me.
I have faith in Thee.
Come on, Jesus,
Set me free.
My soul pleads.
I beg Thee,
For you are my trustee.
I count on Thee.
–author unknown


I really wish I understood why people have to come in and out of our lives. I make friends easy but I don’t make “good” friends easy. I keep a wall up around me because I have an issue with trust. I don’t trust people. I believe that most people have an agenda behind everything. I believe that our society as a whole has been trained to use people to get what you want. I don’t think that people (for the most part) do this to hurt people but people get hurt regardless. I am sure I have done it to people as well. However, when I do make a connection with someone, I eventually let my guard down. It takes some time usually for this to happen but three years ago, I met some people and I don’t believe my guard was ever up.

You see, this group of people that I met were so different from anyone I had ever met before. The difference between them and everyone else I knew… they were authentic. They had NO agenda! Still to this day, I have not been asked to provide any of them with anything. I grew to love all of them so much. Sure, we had our differences, all friends do but for the first time in my life, I was able to be me… the real me. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else so they would like me. I didn’t have to pretend to like everything they liked either. I have made some of the best memories with this group of people.

So back to that “I really wish I understood why people have to come in and out of our lives” statement. Last summer one of them moved away… no across town, or to another city within Ohio or even a neighboring state but away… to the other side of the country. I still talk to him almost every day but no more spur of the moment “let’s make a day of this” days.

I don’t make many “girlfriends” I made two within this group. Well the first one moved away last year. She moved for love, I can’t blame her as I would do the same thing. When you meet your soul mate, you will do anything to stay with them. She is happy now and that’s what is important.

Then another friend passed away in January (this is written about in a previous post). This was very difficult because she was the one person I could confide in. She knew everything about me, everything. We told each other our darkest fears and we understood each other. We didn’t judge one another. She was like nobody I had ever known before. I only had the chance to know her for a couple years. I see the heartache in every single person she touched. She was taken too soon.

Her fiance has decided to move away too. He has some friends on the west coast, one of which is the friend that moved there for love. It will be easier for him to be there instead of here. Too many reminders of what he has lost. I don’t blame him either. Just really going to miss him. We have had our differences but always came back around to each other… this is how real friendship works.

Now someone else is moving away. I understand the reasoning for it… I do. It is still hard. He won’t be that far away but when people move away and start a new life, it is easy to forget about the one you left behind. I care so much for this person. He has introduced me to so much… before I met him, I had never been to a broadway play, I had never seen The Rocky Horror Show, and I probably would have never bought a GPS but he convinced me it was way better than being lost all the time. I feel like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz because I want and need to say… “I will miss you the most”… I will leave it at that.

I still have friends here and there are a few from the group left. One in which I have been the closest to. He knows who he is. I wouldn’t have been able to get through any of this or last year without him. I am so scared that something will happen and he will be taken away from me as well. I fear that I cling to him too much because of this. I know that there are reasons people come in and out… I know they all leave a mark on our heart and in time we remember the good things and forget all the bad, however, I feel like there is this huge hole in mine. I don’t know if I will ever meet a group of people like this again. I don’t know if anyone will ever be able to measure up to them. If you have met any of them, you know what I am talking about. I love each and every one of them and I am going to miss them so much.

{February 17, 2011}   Do you hear me?

I wake up every morning and I instantly think about coffee. (I know, I know… you have told me this before) I sluggishly get out of bed (why didn’t I set the automatic timer again?) and make my way to the kitchen. I grumble about the mess the kids made in there after I went to bed. (already making for a good day, huh?) I make my coffee, wake the kids up, let the dogs out and pour a cup of coffee. I go lay back down in bed and get out my phone to check (stalk) all my facebook and twitter friends. I pull up my twitter feed and see the happenings of all my “friends” from the night before and make my way to the news of the day, which starts around 4:30am with NBC4. (I know, I know… you have told me this before)

I send out a few tweets to some people in regards to what they did last night or what their plans are for today, I post something that I think people want to know about me on facebook and then I go pour another cup of coffee. (This time I yell at the kids on my way to to kitchen for their mess, since they are awake and all) I go and sit back down in bed and check to see if anyone responded to me. (I know, I know… you have told me this before)

I take my oldest child to school and drop her off, I am usually upset by someone almost hitting me going through this neighborhood that is now occuppied by a lot of new drivers (Yay me!) and clearly their parents didn’t do a good job at teaching them how to drive. Everyday I promise myself I will do better than they did come this April with my oldest. We make our way to the high school, (stupid moms in their minivans are holding up the drop off line, don’t they know that I have important things to do today and don’t have time to sit here!) drop off my daughter and make my way back home. (very slowly due to the incompetent drivers in my town)

I walk in the door and find that my youngest has fallen back asleep (did I expect anything different?) and I start yelling at him to get up because he can’t miss the bus, I simply have more important things to do than to drive him to school today. By now my head is pounding! (Why does my day always start off so bad?) I go pour another coffee and climb back in bed, I think my phone chirped. (someone tweeted me!)

I cozy up in bed, check my facebook and twitter (I know, I know… You have told me this before) and start up some conversations. (Man I have a lot of work to do around the house) My son yells goodbye, I go see him off and lock the door, feed the dogs and sit back down on my bed. I look at all the stuff I have to do and I just can’t get motivated to do it. Work beckons, lots of work today, lots of traveling. All this other stuff is just going to have to wait. (I know, I know… You have told me this before) Man Someone is pushy!

I get myself ready for the day, come back to the computer, open my email and see that I have a crisis going on with one of my properties (imagine that) and that I have three more marketing assignments to do (on top of the two I had yesterday) and oh yeah, my inspections are due by midnight. (Seriously?) I wonder to myself “why I can’t get a days peace” (I know…I know… You have told me this before) and then my printer decides to not work. Wow, really? (OK…OK… I HEAR YOU!!!)

I kneel down beside my bed, I close my eyes and I pray… I hear you Lord, I am sorry for not listening. I know that every morning should start with a conversation with you, when it doesn’t and I put other things first, I find myself cluttered and losing control. Forgive me for not putting you as a priority in my life. Amen.

I stand up, pull my shoulders back, take a deep breath and start over. (Yeah I hear you, tomorrow is a new day, tomorrow I will start it off with you)

{February 13, 2011}   The attack I didn’t see coming

I didn’t have a good year in 2010. I started off the year just like everyone else, setting goals, feeling optimistic, ready to take on the world. Well, that quickly faded. Last year was one of the most difficult years I have ever had and I have had some bad ones. In years past I have dealt with things like, losing my job, my daughter being diagnosed with Diabetes, my grandmother passing away, making a clean break from an ex but nothing ever prepared me for my year last year.

I am a person who lives in the fast lane. I love being around people all the time and if it is too quiet, I find myself getting anxious. I have a lot of friends. I never seem to be without at least one of them around me. Well, last year I didn’t want anyone around me. I went through several different stages last year, I even thought I wanted to enter back into corporate America (when I say that I instantly start hearing Eminem belting out the lyrics to White America!). Things were good for a few weeks and then I began to have serious anxiety.

I have dealt with this disorder almost my entire life, honestly, I don’t remember a time I didn’t have it. This time was different. If you have never experienced a full blown panic attack, you may not be able to relate to this post. I started every morning with a feeling of doom over my head (picture a comic strip with a dark rain cloud of the main character) and I couldn’t shake it. The closer I got to work, the harder it became to breathe. As I would pull into the parking lot, my head felt like someone pumped air into my scalp, causing a pressure that was unbearable. It would never go away until I was home from work. I became dizzy, scared to leave my office. I simply did not understand. I had never felt this way before. I would come home and hide in my room. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I have worked in corporate jobs my entire adulthood. Why was this different?

One day, I was feeling extremely off balance and my good friend Amy came to stay with me during the day. I was working alone and was left to run a large apartment complex and two condo communities. I had no staff except for maintenance and some vendors that popped in and out during the day. So Amy came and kept me company. I didn’t have much time to talk with her that day because I was extremely busy. When that clock hit 6:00pm I was ready to bolt out of the door. I wanted desperately to go home, pour a glass of wine and hide in my bedroom until morning. This was my daily routine. It still shocks me that I was living like this. Well, I never made it home for that glass of wine. Instead, I was sitting on 23 South for quite a bit of time. Amy was a few lanes over and on her way home. I started to feel like I was fainting. I suddenly couldn’t see the road, I tried shaking it off but it became more persistent. I was blacking out. I quickly called Amy and told her what was going on. I hopped two lanes and drove to a nearby parking lot. Amy got out and stayed with me. We tested my blood sugar to make sure I wasn’t having a low blood sugar attack but the meter said I was fine. I tried walking around, it make it worse. We called my husband and he came to get me. I left my car there. On my way home, with my husband driving, I got even worse. I felt as if someone was choking me and only allowing me a few short breaths every thirty seconds or so. My head felt like water was swishing around and I truly thought I was going to die that night. I knew it was stress and anxiety but I was worried it was something more because I had never experienced this in my life.

I went to the doctor the very next morning and sure enough, they told me it was stress. I was put on several different medications, all of them made it worse. I started having severe body aches. One night I was trying to watch a movie with my husband and ended up crying because my stomach hurt so bad that I thought I was dying. I went back to the doctor the very next morning and they thought I had appendicitis. I was quickly admitted for CT Scans with contrast, blood work, head evaluations (for the dizziness) and they all came back fine. I went home that evening and sat in my bedroom in complete silence. I was trying to wrap my head around what was going on. This wasn’t like me. I am the girl who can handle everything life has to throw at me. I am strong, I am independent, I am couragious, and I am not a quitter. I spent a lot of time praying that day.

When my husband came home from work, I broke down. I was crying like an infant. He had never seen me like this and he became extremely worried. It was this day that he did something that made me realize that my husband was a really good man. He held me for a long time and told me that I didn’t have to be superwoman. I didn’t have to work this job, my job didn’t define who I was. He told me he would be happy if I just stayed at home and built my real estate business on my own, in my own time. I had been married to this man for 15 years at this point and never once had he been this gentle and caring towards me. Perhaps this was the one thing I needed? It certainly was a pivotal moment in my recovery. It may not sound like much to most of you who choose to read this but it was amazing to me. My husband just doesn’t do that. He doesn’t show emotions like that, he doesn’t believe in crying or having anxiety. He would normally tell me to suck it up and stop being a baby… or is that how I always took what he was saying to me? I am not sure. I just know that that was the first step to my recovery. It took several weeks for the anxiety to slow down. I went 4 months with no attacks. Oh and I quit my job the next day. That certainly helped too.

I still wasn’t out of my house a lot. I spent a lot of time that summer in prayer. I sat outside and basked in the sun every chance I could get. My friend John was there with me a lot. He helped me through this and was very caring. I didn’t see much of my other friends though. I met Sean and the three of us would hang out a lot. We took my kids on a lot of adventures. I went back home a lot to remind me of who I was and to help me figure out who I wanted to be. The healing process was working. I have since found that I am doing great. My real estate career is growing at rapid speed and I have to slow down sometimes, out of fear that another attack is lurking in a dark corner, waiting for that moment that I let my guard down. I make sure that I see my friends as often as possible.

I lost one of my closest friends this past January and my biggest regret was that I didn’t see her much that previous year. I don’t want that to happen again to anyone I care about. Katy’s passing has brought our friends even closer. I feel that we all feel this way. To be in your early 30’s and to lose someone to cancer that quickly, puts a whole different perpective on your life. I would do anything to get one more day with her but I know that won’t happen so I am trying to live the way that I believe she would have wanted me to and that includes being with friends for everything.

I hope that this year is better than last. It started off horrible, with losing Katy and all but I am trying to use that as turning point in my life. I am very blessed. I have a wonderful family and the most AMAZING group of friends ever. I don’t feel like I deserve to have all of this but for some reason I do. When you go through something like I went through last year, you wake up every day praying for a good day and when you get it, you can’t help but smile.

{September 23, 2009}   Now That You’re Gone

Now that you’re gone

Now that you’re gone,
It’s too dark at night.
It’s constantly cold.
And nothing seems right.

Now that you’re gone
It hurts to be alone.
I can’t stand it here without you
Afraid and on my own.

Now that you’re gone
My world means naught,
I’m sorry for what I said,
And all the times we fought.

Now that you’re gone,
I can’t seem to find my smile.
I didn’t think I’d lose it yet,
At least not for a while

Now that you’re gone,
I can’t help but yearn
For the love that we had
And the day that you’ll return

Now that you’re gone
And have left me behind
I’m losing my focus
And have already lost my mind.

Now that you’re gone
Nothing else will matter
Each day I’m without you
My heart won’t cease to shatter

Now that you’re gone
All it does is rain,
The heavens seems to weep,
As if they feel my pain.

Now that you’re gone
I just want to cry,
Because I curse that night you left,
When we had to say good-bye.

Now that you’re gone
I only want one wish,
For you to come back
And give me just one kiss

{August 7, 2009}   Growing

The past couple of years have been really hard for me. The year I was turning 30 I changed my career. It wasn’t a small shift either, it was huge, complete 360. I had written in a blog on Yahoo at the time that I was making this change and that others would soon follow. I won’t mention what the others were on here but those of you that know me, know what they are. It’s funny that I said that back then, that was over 3 years ago and even though my career changed and grew, I still haven’t made those other changes. Even more interesting to me is that I myself am a completely different person than I was then. I came from a small town in Southern Ohio. All of my friends dreamed of getting married, having kids and staying home. All but one…Elizabeth. Elizabeth and I knew we were different. We had the same dreams of moving to the city and working for a big corporate firm. I had dreamt of this since I was little, except that instead of being a corporate guru, I was going to be famous! When I met Elizabeth, we instantly clicked. After high school, we moved to Columbus to pursue our dreams. What a great summer….in the beginning. Things got crazy, she and I fought a lot and eventually, I moved home. Well I never lost focus of my dream. I didn’t stay home for long. I eventually moved back to Columbus. I worked at a large retail chain and moved up quickly. It lacked something though. I wanted to move on, they asked me to go to Chicago or Detroit to run the districts but I was told no by someone. I don’t take being told no very well. I suppose this is when I started to rebel.

Since I wasn’t “allowed” to go any further with this career, I changed courses. I was looking for a better way. I will skip ahead because I already wrote about the next three years in a previous post. See, I love the city. I despise the country. I like the country for weekend trips, camping and that sort of thing but I feel at peace in the city. I live close enough now that I can see the skyline on a clear day or night. I drive downtown constantly. People really close to me choose to ignore this desire inside of me. Oh well. I have made some new friends, friends that seem to understand this in me. I have had new friends since about three years ago and the circle keeps getting bigger. I love people, I don’t think it is all about me. I listen to my friends, I care about them, I want to help them any way I can. I love it when my friends want to hang out with me and when they are willing to go downtown with me. Certain people, in my close circle, they don’t like people. I am having a hard time with this. I am not a one best friend kind of girl. I have many friends, many many close friends. They all bring something different to the table. There is a piece of me in every one of them and vice versa.

So the thing I ponder about most these days is this….if I have grown this much in three years, where will I be three years from now. Do I stay stagnant in the area I wish to change but have been to afraid to do so, or do I take that leap and start living my life to the fullest extent possible? I guess I have some tough thinking to do.

I post this short story to remind people why it is important to accept everybody for who they are. God never intended for us to be the same. What a boring world this would be if we could not express ourselves individually, if we could not see beauty in everyone, in everything. What if we couldn’t see ugliness or feel sadness? What if we couldn’t teach or pass on life lessons? I give your the story of Harrison Bergeron.

I’d like you to read this famous story and think about whether Nietzsche wasn’t on to something when he criticized the naive idea of human equality.

THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren’t only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.

Some things about living still weren’t quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron’s fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.

It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn’t think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn’t think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.

George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel’s cheeks, but she’d forgotten for the moment what they were about.

On the television screen were ballerinas.

A buzzer sounded in George’s head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.

“That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did,” said Hazel.

“Huh?” said George.

“That dance – it was nice,” said Hazel.

“Yup,” said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They weren’t really very good – no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn’t be handicapped. But he didn’t get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts.

George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.

Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself she had to ask George what the latest sound had been.

“Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer,” said George.

“I’d think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds,” said Hazel, a little envious. “All the things they think up.”

“Um,” said George.

“Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?” said Hazel. Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. “If I was Diana Moon Glampers,” said Hazel, “I’d have chimes on Sunday – just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion.”

“I could think, if it was just chimes,” said George.

“Well – maybe make ‘em real loud,” said Hazel. “I think I’d make a good Handicapper General.”

“Good as anybody else,” said George.

“Who knows better’n I do what normal is?” said Hazel.

“Right,” said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that.

“Boy!” said Hazel, “that was a doozy, wasn’t it?”

It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, were holding their temples.

“All of a sudden you look so tired,” said Hazel. “Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa, so’s you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch.” She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in canvas bag, which was padlocked around George’s neck. “Go on and rest the bag for a little while,” she said. “I don’t care if you’re not equal to me for a while.”

George weighed the bag with his hands. “I don’t mind it,” he said. “I don’t notice it any more. It’s just a part of me.

“You been so tired lately – kind of wore out,” said Hazel. “If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few.”

“Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out,” said George. “I don’t call that a bargain.”

“If you could just take a few out when you came home from work,” said Hazel. “I mean – you don’t compete with anybody around here. You just set around.”

“If I tried to get away with it,” said George, “then other people’d get away with it and pretty soon we’d be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

“I’d hate it,” said Hazel.

“There you are,” said George. “The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?”

If Hazel hadn’t been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn’t have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.

“Reckon it’d fall all apart,” said Hazel.

“What would?” said George blankly.

“Society,” said Hazel uncertainly. “Wasn’t that what you just said?”

“Who knows?” said George.

The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn’t clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, “Ladies and gentlemen – ”

He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.

“That’s all right –” Hazel said of the announcer, “he tried. That’s the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard.”

“Ladies and gentlemen” said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men.

And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. “Excuse me – ” she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.

“Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen,” she said in a grackle squawk, “has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under–handicapped, and should be regarded as extremely dangerous.”

A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen – upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.

The rest of Harrison’s appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever worn heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H–G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides.

Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds.

And to offset his good looks, the H–G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle–tooth random.

“If you see this boy,” said the ballerina, “do not – I repeat, do not – try to reason with him.”

There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.

Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.

George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have – for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. “My God –” said George, “that must be Harrison!”

The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head.

When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.

Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.

“I am the Emperor!” cried Harrison. “Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!” He stamped his foot and the studio shook.

“Even as I stand here –” he bellowed, “crippled, hobbled, sickened – I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!”

Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.

Harrison’s scrap–iron handicaps crashed to the floor.

Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall.

He flung away his rubber–ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder.

“I shall now select my Empress!” he said, looking down on the cowering people. “Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!”

A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.

Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask.

She was blindingly beautiful.

“Now” said Harrison, taking her hand, “shall we show the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!” he commanded.

The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. “Play your best,” he told them, “and I’ll make you barons and dukes and earls.”

The music began. It was normal at first – cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.

The music began again and was much improved.

Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while – listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.

They shifted their weights to their toes.

Harrison placed his big hands on the girl’s tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers.

And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!

Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well.

They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.

They leaped like deer on the moon.

The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.

They kissed it.

And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time.

It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.

Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on.

It was then that the Bergerons’ television tube burned out.

Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George.

But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer.

George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. “You been crying?” he said to Hazel.

“Yup,” she said,

“What about?” he said.

“I forget,” she said. “Something real sad on television.”

“What was it?” he said.

“It’s all kind of mixed up in my mind,” said Hazel.

“Forget sad things,” said George.

“I always do,” said Hazel.

“That’s my girl,” said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head.

“Gee – I could tell that one was a doozy,” said Hazel.

“You can say that again,” said George.

“Gee –” said Hazel, “I could tell that one was a doozy.”

{July 26, 2009}   Music

A mixture of sound and silence
Artistic release in time, the essence
Alluring beauty avowedly delivered
At best, music is simply divine!

Mundane worries consigned away
Music keeps the masses enthralled
Mystic saints’ melodious music
Mesmerized even the Gods!

Mellowed cow milks more & more
Music to ears turns it a philanthropist
Music therapy to the miserable
Manifests in salvation- a revelation

Music can bring about rain
Music can unshackle the mind
Music can well alleviate pain
Music is simply divine!

{July 26, 2009}   A New Light

All these thoughts of
What’s going to happen to me
Swirl around unabated;

Fueled by the dreams of yesterday
With an aim to stand tall against all odds
I nurtured this desire for a long time;

Falling at every other step,
I picked up the pieces and moved on
Hoping to succeed where others have given up;

In the middle of the night
As the demons of the past
Tried to play havoc with my life
A gentle breeze from the open window
Drifted in, giving a breath of inspiration
And igniting this hardened soul;

As the world slowly started coming alive,
The morning light filtered in
Signaling the end of the darkness
And the beginning of something wonderful

{July 26, 2009}   My Window

I sit here and look out my window.
I look down at the street below,
I see the people walking by and I wonder,
What is on their mind?
Are they happy?
Are they sad?
I wonder if people ponder this about me,
Do they care if I am happy?
Do they care if I am sad?
I sit here and look out my window.
I look up to the sky above,
I see the stars and the moon and I wonder,
What is He doing tonight?
Is He happy with me?
Is He sad by me?
I sit here and look out my window.
My mind wonders off,
It goes back to things I have done,
Mistakes I have made,
I wonder if I will ever forget and move on,
I wonder if I am the only one who remembers,
I sit here and look out my window.
I look out to the horizon,
I daydream of where I want to be.
Will I get there someday?
Will I be strong?
Will I make it?
I sit here and look out my window.
And I sit here and look some more.

et cetera