What shall we talk about today? I suppose it would be wise to finish, or at least attempt to finish, what I had started the other day. I left off talking about my daughter, so that seems like a good place to start back up. I have to be work later today, but I have an hour or so to kill while I do my laundry for the week. My daughter has given her mother a bit of grief since her conception. I had hoped for a son, but maybe GUS thought better of it because of my reasons for that. I had always felt responsible for my family name since my Great-Grandfather Frank made that trek across the pond in 1926 with my Grandfather Albert, Great Uncle Fred, and my Great Aunt and Great-Grandmother whose names escape me at the moment. My Grandfather was only 3 years old, and during that time the Nazi Party was gaining momentum in Germany. Hitler was to be released from prison around that time, and everyone knows what happened 10 years later. So I was always grateful that my family was able to leave Germany and not have to be a part of the events that took place a decade later.
What does this all mean you ask? Well, I am the last male carrying the Kirschnick name, literally if you count my back, but when I pass on, there is no one left to make that name live on. Now, with today's times, it is possible that my sisters could have a kid that carries my last name. I mean marriages are not a given anymore when having children. Well as you know I am not having a boy. This is not to say that we won't have a boy in the future, but our family does include two boys already. Now I had not gotten into the details in the last blog, but this seems like a good place to do that.
I have gained not only a daughter, but two awesome boys. They are 15 and 11, and they are our sons. I have finally found a place in this world where I fit in. All those years of searching for this place was worth it. These two boys of ours will be good brothers to Madelyn, and they are smart, healthy, well-mannered (at times, depending on the daily changing level of teen angst with the 15 year old) kids to boot. It is a strange turn of events for me to be a dad, but it is exactly what was supposed to happen. My woman and I should be tying the knot after Maddie is born, and as formal as it is on paper, I already consider her to be my wife along with our children being our children.
My wife is someone I have known for over 20 years, not to mention a fellow Scorpion, and our birthdays match up correctly in the stars. You all know how much I believe in the zodiac and the heavens. Anyway, life has changed both of us from what I remember, although I have a hard time remembering what we were exactly like or what transpired back then due to my lifestyle choices. I do remember the long nights her and I spent together talking about nothing and laughing about everything over coffee and cigarettes. That was an awesome time, when you could still smoke indoors, over a coffee mug at a 24 hour truck stop. I had asked her to marry me before Maddie, so this is not a shotgun wedding by any means, and I reinforced that feeling after Maddie was born by formally doing it with the ring. She said yes, and the rest is happily ever after.
I have a lot to learn still about relationships. I have been so used to being selfish over the past 10 years since Beth died. Beth was the last one of my relationships that I gave everything and took nothing. After her death, I did what I wanted when I wanted. I even acted that way in my first marriage with Karen. This situation reminds me of the way I used to be before I got jaded by prison and the suicide. Anyway, I have come a long way over the past 10 1/2 years, and I still don't have all the answers (even if I act like I do). What I do know is that I love my beautiful wife, and my wonderful kids very much. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to keep this house up and running, them safe and warm, and food on the table. Hence the reason I am working two jobs.
Speaking of the two jobs, I recently was hired at an auto parts store, which turns out is a Corporate America job. Yes, I went corporate. I know I know I know, you don't have to tell me what you are thinking, but the benefits would be good for the kids in the long run. Not to mention, I got the degrees already so I would be able to move up through the ranks very quickly. The problem is that the headquarters are in Missouri, and I doubt my wife is going to want to move there if a higher position opened in the company. At least not in the next 5 years. She has a good job here in the Chicago area, and our kids are comfortable where we live, so it would be difficult to take a promotion to headquarters.
Not to mention, the pay at the moment is not making life perfect. I have had to continue to work my old job, a moving company, just to supplement the income. I know the corporate job will be great in the long run, but the long run doesn't feed the family, or keep the roof over their heads, or heat, etc. I talked to my boss recently because the pay really isn't enough. My wife had told me to not take the job because she things a lot sooner than I do, call it intuition, something I have lost recently...Anyway, I told him either give me a raise, which he couldn't do, or I have to quit. He couldn't give me a raise, so I tried to find a solution. He didn't want me to quit, but his payroll is where it should be per corporate, thus the choice is up to me on the move. So I asked to have my hours cut after the first of the year. I will work 20-25 hours there, wait for the right moment to get a promotion with a pay raise, then return to my full-time status. In the meantime, I am going to work more at the moving company, which is better pay but no benefits. I am an independent contractor there, and if I get hurt on the job, I am pretty much fucked. This was one reason I tried to find an alternate route.
Well, that is what is happening in my life at the moment with work and family. I have a few other things to talk about concerning my job and other stuff that I need to write down at some point, however I have to leave all of that for Part 3 I guess. Well, I hope you are enjoying weekend, and I will catch you on the flipside. Thanks for stopping by!
The Blog of Kenneth Kirschnick.......Welcome to a place for my thoughts to be shared with the world...Anything goes here, politics, religion, life, music, academics, poetry, writing, films, etc. I have no boundaries in life, so there will be no limits here either...Enjoy!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Been a very long while...part 1
Hello all,
Yes, I am still alive, although at times I have wondered if even reality is my perceived reality, or some sick fuck's cruel dream, with me playing a minor role in it. There has been somewhat of a roller coaster the past few months. Some of you may know and some others may not, but I will get into all the wonderful stuff in a minute. Let me just say that I have not found nirvana through all this living I have done, and my happiness at the moment is totally based on day-to-day events. Yesterday for example, was not a high point in my psychological calendar. So where do I begin? Ah yes, the bad stuff right? That was my usual way of writing blogs over the past decade, but I am going to take a different course and start with the good. This way, I may never even get to the bad, thus allowing me to forget it altogether.
So, I am going to be a daddy. I have, from what I seen, a beautiful baby girl on the way. I think that this may be a cruel joke from the old man upstairs considering my life, and all the women that I have either hurt, hindered, or otherwise hunted over the years. Not to say I purposefully made them trophies, but some may feel that is what they are, which of course in the grand scheme of things is not true. I have always admired beauty, like an art collector. There was never a rhyme or reason for the beauty I saw, I just saw it in many forms.
My daughter's name is going to be Madelyn Rose. I had no part in the naming of her because I was only allowed to name a boy, but since that is not what I created, I was left to the sidelines with only veto power. I believe I used my veto power twice, once for the name Emily, and once for the name Claire (although this conversation took place a while ago, so I may be mistaken). There it is, a beautiful daughter that is due to enter my world on May 19th. I will be a good dad, teacher, mentor, protector, etc. It is exciting because for years I assumed I was sterile. This is not the first time I tried to have a child, and let me say for the record, that she was planned.
Madelyn is by no means an accident. She was conceived after a debate over my return to Hawaii or not. I had chosen to not return to Hawaii, and a week later she was in my life, although it was not confirmed for another four weeks after that. The whole process is interesting, and I am learning a lot. There are a lot of things that I don't like, and bother me considerably. I might be developing an ulcer, or some other stress related ailment, but so far I am not proof positive.
I have quit smoking officially, which also says a lot about my willingness to be a good dad. I know people say you have to want to quit for yourself, but you also need motivators. She and her mother are good motivators. I like knowing that I can prolong my life a little bit to see her grow up, and to grow young with her mother. There are other factors in this nuclear family I helped create, which I will get to soon. Since this has to be a two, maybe three part blog, I will end it here for now. As I have responsibilities to take care of today. It is 7:45 AM, I don't know what it is like to sleep past 6 AM anymore, and I am currently working two jobs and helping raise a family. Life is weird sometimes, especially if I look back only 12 months and see how many changes are afoot.
We shall talk soon I promise, there are many more things to talk about, such as corporate America, relationships, school, first times, and of course more life stuff.
Yes, I am still alive, although at times I have wondered if even reality is my perceived reality, or some sick fuck's cruel dream, with me playing a minor role in it. There has been somewhat of a roller coaster the past few months. Some of you may know and some others may not, but I will get into all the wonderful stuff in a minute. Let me just say that I have not found nirvana through all this living I have done, and my happiness at the moment is totally based on day-to-day events. Yesterday for example, was not a high point in my psychological calendar. So where do I begin? Ah yes, the bad stuff right? That was my usual way of writing blogs over the past decade, but I am going to take a different course and start with the good. This way, I may never even get to the bad, thus allowing me to forget it altogether.
So, I am going to be a daddy. I have, from what I seen, a beautiful baby girl on the way. I think that this may be a cruel joke from the old man upstairs considering my life, and all the women that I have either hurt, hindered, or otherwise hunted over the years. Not to say I purposefully made them trophies, but some may feel that is what they are, which of course in the grand scheme of things is not true. I have always admired beauty, like an art collector. There was never a rhyme or reason for the beauty I saw, I just saw it in many forms.
My daughter's name is going to be Madelyn Rose. I had no part in the naming of her because I was only allowed to name a boy, but since that is not what I created, I was left to the sidelines with only veto power. I believe I used my veto power twice, once for the name Emily, and once for the name Claire (although this conversation took place a while ago, so I may be mistaken). There it is, a beautiful daughter that is due to enter my world on May 19th. I will be a good dad, teacher, mentor, protector, etc. It is exciting because for years I assumed I was sterile. This is not the first time I tried to have a child, and let me say for the record, that she was planned.
Madelyn is by no means an accident. She was conceived after a debate over my return to Hawaii or not. I had chosen to not return to Hawaii, and a week later she was in my life, although it was not confirmed for another four weeks after that. The whole process is interesting, and I am learning a lot. There are a lot of things that I don't like, and bother me considerably. I might be developing an ulcer, or some other stress related ailment, but so far I am not proof positive.
I have quit smoking officially, which also says a lot about my willingness to be a good dad. I know people say you have to want to quit for yourself, but you also need motivators. She and her mother are good motivators. I like knowing that I can prolong my life a little bit to see her grow up, and to grow young with her mother. There are other factors in this nuclear family I helped create, which I will get to soon. Since this has to be a two, maybe three part blog, I will end it here for now. As I have responsibilities to take care of today. It is 7:45 AM, I don't know what it is like to sleep past 6 AM anymore, and I am currently working two jobs and helping raise a family. Life is weird sometimes, especially if I look back only 12 months and see how many changes are afoot.
We shall talk soon I promise, there are many more things to talk about, such as corporate America, relationships, school, first times, and of course more life stuff.
Monday, September 5, 2011
M.I.A.
Well, I have finally found a few minutes to sit down and write out a blog. The past few months have been a blur. I made plans to go back to Hawaii and get my M.A. in Military and Diplomacy Studies, but things happen and that plan has changed, considerably! It doesn't bother as much as I thought it would because in the process of getting everything ready for the trip, I made a lot of calls and sent a lot of e-mails to my "so-called" Hawaii friends and/or contacts. I did get some positive results, but from a very limited amount of people. The rest were pretending, or acting like they cared but that facade was easy to read, guess I learned something from Kenneth Burke after all. The motivation was there was nothing to gain from helping me find an apartment, which was the main reason I contacted everyone I ever met out there. There are even some people that have left the island and won't bother returning my calls, and a couple of them actually live in the Chicago area.
I have realized that Honolulu has a high turnaround of people, therefore it is easy to put people out of mind if they are out of sight. I say, Good Riddance, those are people I do not need in my life. The negativity from that situation bothered me at first, but now I am on a new path and I like it.
I have started my M.A. in History as of last week. I went to my first classes, and they were alright, nothing to write home about. My grades for this semester will be based on a few papers, no exams. It is a breeze. I have already formulated a topic of study for my Ancient Greece "major" paper, it will involve Aristotle's rhetoric as a method of persuasion. Do you notice the link between my other degree and this one??? Good, because that is what I am going to do for the next two years. I am going to pound these texts out, do some great writing and get going on this academia thing.
I didn't get those teaching gigs due to low enrollment. The classes of the person who would have been my boss did not fill up, so he ended up swallowing up (I call it stealing) the film history classes I was supposed to teach. Ah well, this is the profession I chose, therefore I got to get used to the disappointments of low enrollment and asshole chair-people.
I did think I would have gotten more done this summer in the academic part of my life, but it flew by with the job I have. I was going to leave the job before Hawaii, but since I am not going to the islands anymore I can keep it until October. It is pretty nice because a few of the other drivers quit, which has given me more hours as of late. A few weeks ago, it had slowed down to me just working 10 hours a week, which was tough on the wallet. Anyway, I am back to working 10-15 hour days, plus going to school, so things are moving rather nicely.
I moved out of my father's house and I am currently renting a nice little casa in western suburbs. It is nice out here because cigarettes, gas, and booze are not taxed like they are in the city, or at least not as high. We all know you can't run from the tax-man. I pay 450 in rent my utilities. I moved what stuff I had, my parents gave me a few things to fill the place, and I bought a 10 dollar 1960s couch from goodwill. The thing is in mint condition and I think it is worth something being a relic of the cold war era when people put plastic on their couches/sofas. It is gold, with a nice wood frame. It has the circular pillows that act as armrests but can be used as a neck pillow also. It is vintage, and maybe one day I can find out if it is worth more than 10 bucks. The name of the couch maker is Benny Studios and it was in Chicago, but this company doesn't exist anymore, and even google cant find anything related. So I will just enjoy its comfort on my ass and maybe one day I will make a handsome profit from it.
As for the rest of my new place, it has some downsides. The neighbor's are really close and they hang outside my backdoor on their porches. I call it "The Pub," and I know that should be a good thing for someone like me but it isn't. I have been trying to quit smoking, there has been some success, and I have cut down my drinking considerably over the past few weeks. Having these guys congregate in the back smoking, cigs, weed, and whatever else, plus drinking becomes a bit tiresome. I can't leave my kitchen window open because of the smoke blowing into my house.
I got to know the people, my neighbors to the right are Deadheads, so we have that in common, my other neighbors across the back sidewalk live in two units but are part of the same family. The patriarch, Jerry, who is a total asshat by the way, owns his unit, and his son Dave rents the unit next door. There are so many people coming and going that I don't know who is who. They are definitely a country/city folk. In other words, they are very country or hillbilly-ish, but they are from this area, which may be far west of Chicago, but not boonies far. So, I would venture to say that Jerry's influence (he used to be an OTR truck driver) has had something to do with this situation. Jerry used to be cool with me, but I think I have intimidated him. There is definitely an alpha struggle happening in the back of my house, and I believe Jerry (original Alpha) is losing his power to other men trying to control the back stairs. Anyway, I don't care, and maybe that is another thing that bothers him. I don't know what is up, I just know he doesn't talk to me anymore, but he did when I first moved here a month ago. I am sure there will be plenty more to write about, but the parking situation here is another blog.
I don't really have much else to report on at the moment. I am just going through the motions and trying to figure out a good plan. I know my book is done, and should be out in stores next month or November. Other than that I have just isolated myself from mostly everyone I talk too, and I am enjoying the silence and solitude for the moment. I will let you know if that changes...
Thanks for stopping by...
I have realized that Honolulu has a high turnaround of people, therefore it is easy to put people out of mind if they are out of sight. I say, Good Riddance, those are people I do not need in my life. The negativity from that situation bothered me at first, but now I am on a new path and I like it.
I have started my M.A. in History as of last week. I went to my first classes, and they were alright, nothing to write home about. My grades for this semester will be based on a few papers, no exams. It is a breeze. I have already formulated a topic of study for my Ancient Greece "major" paper, it will involve Aristotle's rhetoric as a method of persuasion. Do you notice the link between my other degree and this one??? Good, because that is what I am going to do for the next two years. I am going to pound these texts out, do some great writing and get going on this academia thing.
I didn't get those teaching gigs due to low enrollment. The classes of the person who would have been my boss did not fill up, so he ended up swallowing up (I call it stealing) the film history classes I was supposed to teach. Ah well, this is the profession I chose, therefore I got to get used to the disappointments of low enrollment and asshole chair-people.
I did think I would have gotten more done this summer in the academic part of my life, but it flew by with the job I have. I was going to leave the job before Hawaii, but since I am not going to the islands anymore I can keep it until October. It is pretty nice because a few of the other drivers quit, which has given me more hours as of late. A few weeks ago, it had slowed down to me just working 10 hours a week, which was tough on the wallet. Anyway, I am back to working 10-15 hour days, plus going to school, so things are moving rather nicely.
I moved out of my father's house and I am currently renting a nice little casa in western suburbs. It is nice out here because cigarettes, gas, and booze are not taxed like they are in the city, or at least not as high. We all know you can't run from the tax-man. I pay 450 in rent my utilities. I moved what stuff I had, my parents gave me a few things to fill the place, and I bought a 10 dollar 1960s couch from goodwill. The thing is in mint condition and I think it is worth something being a relic of the cold war era when people put plastic on their couches/sofas. It is gold, with a nice wood frame. It has the circular pillows that act as armrests but can be used as a neck pillow also. It is vintage, and maybe one day I can find out if it is worth more than 10 bucks. The name of the couch maker is Benny Studios and it was in Chicago, but this company doesn't exist anymore, and even google cant find anything related. So I will just enjoy its comfort on my ass and maybe one day I will make a handsome profit from it.
As for the rest of my new place, it has some downsides. The neighbor's are really close and they hang outside my backdoor on their porches. I call it "The Pub," and I know that should be a good thing for someone like me but it isn't. I have been trying to quit smoking, there has been some success, and I have cut down my drinking considerably over the past few weeks. Having these guys congregate in the back smoking, cigs, weed, and whatever else, plus drinking becomes a bit tiresome. I can't leave my kitchen window open because of the smoke blowing into my house.
I got to know the people, my neighbors to the right are Deadheads, so we have that in common, my other neighbors across the back sidewalk live in two units but are part of the same family. The patriarch, Jerry, who is a total asshat by the way, owns his unit, and his son Dave rents the unit next door. There are so many people coming and going that I don't know who is who. They are definitely a country/city folk. In other words, they are very country or hillbilly-ish, but they are from this area, which may be far west of Chicago, but not boonies far. So, I would venture to say that Jerry's influence (he used to be an OTR truck driver) has had something to do with this situation. Jerry used to be cool with me, but I think I have intimidated him. There is definitely an alpha struggle happening in the back of my house, and I believe Jerry (original Alpha) is losing his power to other men trying to control the back stairs. Anyway, I don't care, and maybe that is another thing that bothers him. I don't know what is up, I just know he doesn't talk to me anymore, but he did when I first moved here a month ago. I am sure there will be plenty more to write about, but the parking situation here is another blog.
I don't really have much else to report on at the moment. I am just going through the motions and trying to figure out a good plan. I know my book is done, and should be out in stores next month or November. Other than that I have just isolated myself from mostly everyone I talk too, and I am enjoying the silence and solitude for the moment. I will let you know if that changes...
Thanks for stopping by...
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
So here is the daily grind...
Hello all,
This is the first day I can actually say I have to myself. I have started a new job at a company that does party supplies. I do not mean the balloons or streamers, but the tents, canopies, moon-walks, giant grills, chairs, tables, etc. I am a delivery driver/laborer. My job is to load up my truck, grab another laborer, which usually doesn't speak English, and drop off the load to the customer. This involves setting up the tents/canopies, and whatever else they order. I have been working close to 50 hours a week, and it is possible I could work up to 60 hours a week. I do not have much free time, so I am figured typing out a new blog would be wise this week.
Beyond the job, life itself is rather smooth. The pay is very low at the company for me, but the overtime makes up for it on the checks. I have been able to slowly increase my wardrobe, which was needed because I have wear my clothes until they disintegrate off my body. I got rid of a lot of stuff before I left Hawaii, and now those clothes are falling apart too. So I was able to get some new pants, and some new shirts. I am still being a minimalist, and I don't feel bogged down by the number of items I have available to me. It all still fits in 1 suitcase, so I can leave at any time, which is my M.O.
Speaking of leaving, I will be traveling to San Francisco this weekend to visit some friends from Hawaii. Eirik is out there and it will be good to see him since he left the island in December. I am sure we will do some drinking, but I will be doing a lot of sightseeing. I have not been out in the Bay Area since the first Further Festival, which was in the late 90s. I booked a ticket for Alcatraz on Monday, so that oughta be fun. I will probably grab some fresh seafood at the market on my trip back in from The Rock. Other events that I have planned are a visit to UC-Berkeley to talk to someone there about my possible Ph.D. application, which will be sent off in a few months. Since it is a very good Burkean school, it is only fitting that I apply there. I will be in San Francisco for about 4 days/5 nights. It should be an awesome trip.
I have re-applied to NEIU and HPU for a 2nd M.A. because of the poor economy and my inability to land a lucrative position with my current degrees. I was a bit down and out about the whole affair a few weeks ago, but the new job has changed my outlook a bit. Since the job is a seasonal position, it will end just in time for the new school year to start. I thought I had some opportunities to teach at Triton College, but their silence over the past 8 weeks has caused me some cognitive dissonance, and since I am good at removing the dissonance, Hawaii has become another option yet again. I will let you all know how that plays out in the next 6 to 8 weeks.
The process of starting a new program was a bit hectic at first, but recently I have been given information about it only being a change of program form. I had filled out the applications again, but only after paying the monies to the 2 schools was told I only needed a program change. I do not understand this because I graduated with my M.A., but I guess it still means I am a student of these schools. NEIU is because I applied to finish my M.A. there after the first semester at HPU when I thought I couldn't afford the island life. HPU is good because I graduated from there and my old professors/Dept. Chair/Dean of the Arts and Humanities College have all recommended me based on my academic skills and merit. I believe this will work out for me quite nicely. Even if I get in, I am still applying for my Ph.D. at a couple universities, so if I get accepted I will leave behind the 2nd M.A. and push forward with that.
The new book will be out in September. That is a guarantee. My publisher will be working on the editing and a few other things that I have been supposed to fix. The process is coming to an end, and I can safely say it will be available for purchase very soon. After that, I was thinking of getting a book of poetry published, maybe around Christmas or the first of the year. I have hundreds, if not thousands of poems that have been collecting over the years. I think the format will be a walk through time in the life of me. The poems will have little blurbs about what I remember about them, or who inspired me to write them. Most of them are dated, but some are not. I think it will be a good book to publish in hardcover, which will be my first one.
As for life, well I got a couple flat tires on my car on my lunch break on Sunday. It cost 150 bucks to fix and that is not cool. I still have the bad luck, but it hasn't broke me yet and I don't think it will be able as I get older and older. My ex-wife Karen had a beautiful baby girl a few weeks ago. We finalized the divorce in January, and here she is with a new family. She seems happy, and that makes me happy. I am so glad she is doing well, even with someone else.
It is becoming apparent by the day that I will probably not have kids. I have tried over the years, but I think I may be shooting blanks. I said I didn't want to have young kids in my house after I turn 60, and it is becoming increasingly clear that it will not be happening soon, if at all. I am fine with it, although I thought it would be really nice to carry on my last name since I am the last male to do it in this family. Ah well, there are other Kirschnick's in the world, just not ones from this blood-line.
Somebody broke into my Grandma Kirschnick's house the other day. My Aunt Sandy chased the guy away, and he came back an hour or so later and broke in again. It was in the wee hours of the night, thankfully nobody was hurt. The intruder lives in the same complex and I guess he was drunk and high and thought it was his house. I don't know if I believe that or not, but it is what it is! My grandmother never liked cops, and I doubt she will press charges. They gave her a hell of a time when they were looking for me over the years. Threatening her with Obstruction charges, lying to her about what I was doing or wanted for, and even threatening to arrest her once. I have not seen her in a while and have been meaning to go out to Rolling Meadows where she lives, but just can't seem to catch up with her to set a day.
Then there are the pubs in my neighborhood, or the drinking in general. I have been bouncing around looking for a good local pub besides the ones I am familiar with. I think I have found it. There is a place here in my neighborhood that has $2 Guinness on Wednesdays, $2 Blue Moons on Tuesdays, there is pretty much a $2 drink special every day of the week except Sunday ($3 bloody mary). I have been going there a couple days a week, usually for a cold one after work. Working outdoors in the hot sun makes a man want to enjoy a cold brew. It reminds me of the Shawshank scene when they tar the roof of a building and the head cop lets them drink some ice cold beer afterwards. Andy DuFrain...
The 4th of July was a good day. Spent it with the family, drinking some brews and BBQ'n. We had awesome ribs and some other delightful foods. I watched the fireworks at the park a block over from my house, because the City of Shit-cago decided to cancel the annual fireworks at the lake because they are broke. I personally believe celebrating America's B-day should never be used as a scapegoat for saving money. We are celebrating something much bigger than ourselves. They could have cut the money from somewhere else, like the New Years Eve fireworks, hell America's B-day is more important than a new year anyway!
Well, I have a lot of chores to catch up on, and I do want to get out of my house for the day so I better get stepping. I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe 4th, and I look forward to writing to you all again in the coming weeks. Maybe after I return from SF next week...maybe!
Later,
Kenny
This is the first day I can actually say I have to myself. I have started a new job at a company that does party supplies. I do not mean the balloons or streamers, but the tents, canopies, moon-walks, giant grills, chairs, tables, etc. I am a delivery driver/laborer. My job is to load up my truck, grab another laborer, which usually doesn't speak English, and drop off the load to the customer. This involves setting up the tents/canopies, and whatever else they order. I have been working close to 50 hours a week, and it is possible I could work up to 60 hours a week. I do not have much free time, so I am figured typing out a new blog would be wise this week.
Beyond the job, life itself is rather smooth. The pay is very low at the company for me, but the overtime makes up for it on the checks. I have been able to slowly increase my wardrobe, which was needed because I have wear my clothes until they disintegrate off my body. I got rid of a lot of stuff before I left Hawaii, and now those clothes are falling apart too. So I was able to get some new pants, and some new shirts. I am still being a minimalist, and I don't feel bogged down by the number of items I have available to me. It all still fits in 1 suitcase, so I can leave at any time, which is my M.O.
Speaking of leaving, I will be traveling to San Francisco this weekend to visit some friends from Hawaii. Eirik is out there and it will be good to see him since he left the island in December. I am sure we will do some drinking, but I will be doing a lot of sightseeing. I have not been out in the Bay Area since the first Further Festival, which was in the late 90s. I booked a ticket for Alcatraz on Monday, so that oughta be fun. I will probably grab some fresh seafood at the market on my trip back in from The Rock. Other events that I have planned are a visit to UC-Berkeley to talk to someone there about my possible Ph.D. application, which will be sent off in a few months. Since it is a very good Burkean school, it is only fitting that I apply there. I will be in San Francisco for about 4 days/5 nights. It should be an awesome trip.
I have re-applied to NEIU and HPU for a 2nd M.A. because of the poor economy and my inability to land a lucrative position with my current degrees. I was a bit down and out about the whole affair a few weeks ago, but the new job has changed my outlook a bit. Since the job is a seasonal position, it will end just in time for the new school year to start. I thought I had some opportunities to teach at Triton College, but their silence over the past 8 weeks has caused me some cognitive dissonance, and since I am good at removing the dissonance, Hawaii has become another option yet again. I will let you all know how that plays out in the next 6 to 8 weeks.
The process of starting a new program was a bit hectic at first, but recently I have been given information about it only being a change of program form. I had filled out the applications again, but only after paying the monies to the 2 schools was told I only needed a program change. I do not understand this because I graduated with my M.A., but I guess it still means I am a student of these schools. NEIU is because I applied to finish my M.A. there after the first semester at HPU when I thought I couldn't afford the island life. HPU is good because I graduated from there and my old professors/Dept. Chair/Dean of the Arts and Humanities College have all recommended me based on my academic skills and merit. I believe this will work out for me quite nicely. Even if I get in, I am still applying for my Ph.D. at a couple universities, so if I get accepted I will leave behind the 2nd M.A. and push forward with that.
The new book will be out in September. That is a guarantee. My publisher will be working on the editing and a few other things that I have been supposed to fix. The process is coming to an end, and I can safely say it will be available for purchase very soon. After that, I was thinking of getting a book of poetry published, maybe around Christmas or the first of the year. I have hundreds, if not thousands of poems that have been collecting over the years. I think the format will be a walk through time in the life of me. The poems will have little blurbs about what I remember about them, or who inspired me to write them. Most of them are dated, but some are not. I think it will be a good book to publish in hardcover, which will be my first one.
As for life, well I got a couple flat tires on my car on my lunch break on Sunday. It cost 150 bucks to fix and that is not cool. I still have the bad luck, but it hasn't broke me yet and I don't think it will be able as I get older and older. My ex-wife Karen had a beautiful baby girl a few weeks ago. We finalized the divorce in January, and here she is with a new family. She seems happy, and that makes me happy. I am so glad she is doing well, even with someone else.
It is becoming apparent by the day that I will probably not have kids. I have tried over the years, but I think I may be shooting blanks. I said I didn't want to have young kids in my house after I turn 60, and it is becoming increasingly clear that it will not be happening soon, if at all. I am fine with it, although I thought it would be really nice to carry on my last name since I am the last male to do it in this family. Ah well, there are other Kirschnick's in the world, just not ones from this blood-line.
Somebody broke into my Grandma Kirschnick's house the other day. My Aunt Sandy chased the guy away, and he came back an hour or so later and broke in again. It was in the wee hours of the night, thankfully nobody was hurt. The intruder lives in the same complex and I guess he was drunk and high and thought it was his house. I don't know if I believe that or not, but it is what it is! My grandmother never liked cops, and I doubt she will press charges. They gave her a hell of a time when they were looking for me over the years. Threatening her with Obstruction charges, lying to her about what I was doing or wanted for, and even threatening to arrest her once. I have not seen her in a while and have been meaning to go out to Rolling Meadows where she lives, but just can't seem to catch up with her to set a day.
Then there are the pubs in my neighborhood, or the drinking in general. I have been bouncing around looking for a good local pub besides the ones I am familiar with. I think I have found it. There is a place here in my neighborhood that has $2 Guinness on Wednesdays, $2 Blue Moons on Tuesdays, there is pretty much a $2 drink special every day of the week except Sunday ($3 bloody mary). I have been going there a couple days a week, usually for a cold one after work. Working outdoors in the hot sun makes a man want to enjoy a cold brew. It reminds me of the Shawshank scene when they tar the roof of a building and the head cop lets them drink some ice cold beer afterwards. Andy DuFrain...
The 4th of July was a good day. Spent it with the family, drinking some brews and BBQ'n. We had awesome ribs and some other delightful foods. I watched the fireworks at the park a block over from my house, because the City of Shit-cago decided to cancel the annual fireworks at the lake because they are broke. I personally believe celebrating America's B-day should never be used as a scapegoat for saving money. We are celebrating something much bigger than ourselves. They could have cut the money from somewhere else, like the New Years Eve fireworks, hell America's B-day is more important than a new year anyway!
Well, I have a lot of chores to catch up on, and I do want to get out of my house for the day so I better get stepping. I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe 4th, and I look forward to writing to you all again in the coming weeks. Maybe after I return from SF next week...maybe!
Later,
Kenny
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Kidnapped by 6 drunk chicks at a Baby Shower...
Saturday night, June 18th, 2011, I went to Jet's Public House in my neighborhood to have a beer and a shot. I had to work on Sunday, so I was not planning on getting drunk, and I just needed to unwind after a hard days work. I ordered my beer and shot and sat there for a few minutes. Shortly after the bartender served me, the jukebox played "Cherry Bomb" by The Runaways. I don't think I have ever heard that in a bar, or at least not lately (past 10 years). There was a group of very obnoxious girls to my right that were very drunk.
As I was sitting there, they began to sing "Talk Dirty to Me" very loud. It was much louder than the jukebox, and it was quite comical. I thought they were just too drunk, and that was that. Near the end of my beer, and after ordering another one, one of the girls, Kara, came up to the bar and asked about the jukebox. The girls wanted it louder and threatened to leave the establishment because the bartender refused to turn it up. Kara, and another girl, argued that they were the last of the patrons in that bar, besides me, and questioned why they would want the bar to be empty. They were threatening to leave and go to another bar. The bartender did not give in to their demands.
Kara tried to explain their side to me, which I just laughed and nodded while these girls began to surround me and ask me questions about my thoughts and opinions of the situation. After that banter had subsided, we began to talk about where we all were from. After about 10 minutes, it turns out that Kara and her sister actually grew up in Mayfair, which is where I stomped around also for a few years on and off. It was Jimmie's neighborhood, and this was back in the early 90s. We realized we knew some of the same people, which then escalated into another situation, the kidnapping of me!
This was a baby shower, and these women were drunk, but they wanted me to come to the next bar with them. They all had wedding rings on, and I was not flirting with them, nor thinking of anything else besides drinking. They insisted that I couldn't be left at the bar by myself and I should go with. I didn't hesitate, and we ended up at The Nil. This happened to be the bar that I told Connie I was married at, which created the downward spiral that ultimately ended that relationship. I was hesitant to go there because Connie does drink there on Saturday nights, but bit the bullet and went anyway.
Upon arriving, I was introduced to one of the women's husband, Mike. He had gone to St. Patrick's but was 2 years behind me. Again, we started to see common names from our past, which is pretty funny considering how small the world actually is, six degrees of separation that is. Mike and the women bought me drinks all night. I was very drunk by the end of the night, and I went home having only bought my first 2 beers and a shot at Jet's.
I congratulated the woman I thought had just had a baby, and she freaked out. One of the girls who coaxed me into coming to The Nil, told me not to worry about it, and that I didn't offend her. The other girl then had an argument with her girlfriend about me calling her fat. I did no such thing, I just said congratulations on the baby. This situation escalated and finally there was a rather long argument between the two women. The other women tried to calm the waters, but nothing worked. I finally stepped in, as a mediator, and said my peace. For future reference, mediation does not work when the mediator is: A. involved in the conflict, B. drunk!
Crissy, the girl I said congratulations to, ended up leaving very pissed off. One by the one girls left. I was left with the two original sisters from Mayfair. Like I said, I got pretty drunk for free, and I stumbled home. I laughed about the entire affair the whole way. 5 AM rolled around rather quickly and I was stuck having to work. The day dragged on, but allowed me to recollect the events, and thus be able to write them down here. This is another Great Adventure, and I kind of like being kidnapped, especially when the drinks are free. Hopefully, those women were able to settle their differences. I was just a strange side-show attraction for them, but everything happens for a reason, and maybe those negative feelings that Crissy has, needed to be brought out into the open so they can be dealt with. It just shouldn't have been done when she was drinking.
I will more than likely never see any of these women again, and if I did, I probably wouldn't remember what they look like. I drank about a hundred dollars in free booze, and got to chat with some interesting people. The thing I have realized is that married life is not for me. I knew this from my own personal experience with it, but after talking with these women and their husbands, it is even more apparent. I see the issues that some of these people have, and I looked into Mike's eyes and saw a fear of what was to come. Most of these women seemed to have bubbly personalities, but you could see the dark sides too. Maybe they got pregnant before they wanted kids. It just seemed like they were all stuck in the rat race, and wished they could be as free as me. I am not judging, just saying!
As I was sitting there, they began to sing "Talk Dirty to Me" very loud. It was much louder than the jukebox, and it was quite comical. I thought they were just too drunk, and that was that. Near the end of my beer, and after ordering another one, one of the girls, Kara, came up to the bar and asked about the jukebox. The girls wanted it louder and threatened to leave the establishment because the bartender refused to turn it up. Kara, and another girl, argued that they were the last of the patrons in that bar, besides me, and questioned why they would want the bar to be empty. They were threatening to leave and go to another bar. The bartender did not give in to their demands.
Kara tried to explain their side to me, which I just laughed and nodded while these girls began to surround me and ask me questions about my thoughts and opinions of the situation. After that banter had subsided, we began to talk about where we all were from. After about 10 minutes, it turns out that Kara and her sister actually grew up in Mayfair, which is where I stomped around also for a few years on and off. It was Jimmie's neighborhood, and this was back in the early 90s. We realized we knew some of the same people, which then escalated into another situation, the kidnapping of me!
This was a baby shower, and these women were drunk, but they wanted me to come to the next bar with them. They all had wedding rings on, and I was not flirting with them, nor thinking of anything else besides drinking. They insisted that I couldn't be left at the bar by myself and I should go with. I didn't hesitate, and we ended up at The Nil. This happened to be the bar that I told Connie I was married at, which created the downward spiral that ultimately ended that relationship. I was hesitant to go there because Connie does drink there on Saturday nights, but bit the bullet and went anyway.
Upon arriving, I was introduced to one of the women's husband, Mike. He had gone to St. Patrick's but was 2 years behind me. Again, we started to see common names from our past, which is pretty funny considering how small the world actually is, six degrees of separation that is. Mike and the women bought me drinks all night. I was very drunk by the end of the night, and I went home having only bought my first 2 beers and a shot at Jet's.
I congratulated the woman I thought had just had a baby, and she freaked out. One of the girls who coaxed me into coming to The Nil, told me not to worry about it, and that I didn't offend her. The other girl then had an argument with her girlfriend about me calling her fat. I did no such thing, I just said congratulations on the baby. This situation escalated and finally there was a rather long argument between the two women. The other women tried to calm the waters, but nothing worked. I finally stepped in, as a mediator, and said my peace. For future reference, mediation does not work when the mediator is: A. involved in the conflict, B. drunk!
Crissy, the girl I said congratulations to, ended up leaving very pissed off. One by the one girls left. I was left with the two original sisters from Mayfair. Like I said, I got pretty drunk for free, and I stumbled home. I laughed about the entire affair the whole way. 5 AM rolled around rather quickly and I was stuck having to work. The day dragged on, but allowed me to recollect the events, and thus be able to write them down here. This is another Great Adventure, and I kind of like being kidnapped, especially when the drinks are free. Hopefully, those women were able to settle their differences. I was just a strange side-show attraction for them, but everything happens for a reason, and maybe those negative feelings that Crissy has, needed to be brought out into the open so they can be dealt with. It just shouldn't have been done when she was drinking.
I will more than likely never see any of these women again, and if I did, I probably wouldn't remember what they look like. I drank about a hundred dollars in free booze, and got to chat with some interesting people. The thing I have realized is that married life is not for me. I knew this from my own personal experience with it, but after talking with these women and their husbands, it is even more apparent. I see the issues that some of these people have, and I looked into Mike's eyes and saw a fear of what was to come. Most of these women seemed to have bubbly personalities, but you could see the dark sides too. Maybe they got pregnant before they wanted kids. It just seemed like they were all stuck in the rat race, and wished they could be as free as me. I am not judging, just saying!
The sickness!
Yesterday around 3 AM I was awoke by severe stomach pains. I fell back asleep, and by 7 AM my entire body ached. It was/is not a head cold, but more like a stomach virus/bacteria. I am not quite sure what to call it. It reminds me of cotton fever or PAWS. The symptoms were joint pain (every joint in my body, including fingers and toes) and bone pain, mostly in my arms and legs. I had the runs all day yesterday, and felt nauseous a few times throughout the day. By the afternoon, I was moving very slow, as every step I took was a painful reminder of days long gone when my addiction caused my body severe turmoil.
I relocated myself throughout my house at various times. The basement was a good place to be when I was having hot flashes because of the cool dampness that envelops that space in the summer. After the hot flashes would subside, I would get the chills and have to relocate to the backyard where the temperature and humidity would warm me up. It was a cycle that continued throughout the day.
I did manage to go to the bank and to the store to get some liquids, but that took me three times as long as normal. My movements, as stated earlier, were very slow and laboring. I finally understood how my Grandfather Les felt during his cancer battle. There were times he would drop stuff because he was so weak and all his limbs hurt. He used to get so upset with himself because he could no longer function as an independent man. I felt like that yesterday. I mentioned that it felt like cotton fever or withdrawal, and it did. It could be equated to the 2nd of heroin withdrawal. At that point, the 2nd day would be all body pain and the relieving of the bowels. I know it is a disturbing take on the way I was feeling yesterday, but it was the truth. I went and bought some Tylenol PM when I had to go pick up my mother at work. I came close to passing out at the Walgreens and had to have my mother finish the purchase while I slumbered to the car. When she came back to the car with the pills, I opened them and my weakness made me drop the entire bottle upside into the car. It is a bad feeling when you don't have the strength to hold an aspirin bottle.
When I arrived back home, I waddled back into the house, and straight to the basement. I laid there for hours, and then the pills began to work. I started to nod off, and tried to get comfortable for some much needed sleep. I finally drifted off around 9 PM, and then I was awakened by a loud lightning crackle and the thunder that followed. I could hear the rain pouring down outside and my mother came into the basement and asked me if I was awake, which I replied yes I was. She was worried about the sump pump and wanted to know if I should close it so the basement doesn't flood. I told her to call my father and ask him since he knows more about it than I do. I know how to close it, but I wasn't sure if it was needed. The storm seemed to be pretty vicious, as I look outside this morning at sunrise and see tree branches strewn across the backyard and deck.
The Hawaiian plants that I have been growing for my mother seem to be doing well, I guess they enjoy those types of storms. Some of them moved a bit, but they all seem to have grown since yesterday. Maybe it was the nitrogen from the lightning strikes. Well, today I do feel better. I still have the runs, but I think that is just the ending of a wild 24 hours. Thankfully I was off work for two days, because I would not have been able to do my job yesterday. It does suck that I worked seven days in a row, and my days off have to be spent nursing myself back to good health. The joint pain has subsided, not entirely, but I just feel weak and sore. I do have my strength back though, so that is a good sign.
Where did this illness come from? Well, my parents and sister Katie went to a graduation party about 2 weeks ago, and Katie and my father ate some sausage at the party, which caused both of them to become very ill. That illness was passed to my sisters Gwen and Erica, my grandmother, and Katie's fiancee Josh. They were all ill last week, and here I am ill this week. I had just gotten over a head and chest cold a few weeks ago, so I didn't think I would actually get sick. I guess I was wrong. Hopefully, I am the last of the people to catch this. It was a bit more than 24 hours that I have been sick, but I guess there really is a 24 hour flu, which I never really believed in the past.
My sister Gwen had cooked a white bean chili with chicken on Monday night, and I thought for sure she had poisoned me. I didn't say that to her because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, and I am glad I didn't because it wasn't her fault. Well, that is my spiel for the sickness, and I can only hope I am back to 100% tomorrow for work.
I relocated myself throughout my house at various times. The basement was a good place to be when I was having hot flashes because of the cool dampness that envelops that space in the summer. After the hot flashes would subside, I would get the chills and have to relocate to the backyard where the temperature and humidity would warm me up. It was a cycle that continued throughout the day.
I did manage to go to the bank and to the store to get some liquids, but that took me three times as long as normal. My movements, as stated earlier, were very slow and laboring. I finally understood how my Grandfather Les felt during his cancer battle. There were times he would drop stuff because he was so weak and all his limbs hurt. He used to get so upset with himself because he could no longer function as an independent man. I felt like that yesterday. I mentioned that it felt like cotton fever or withdrawal, and it did. It could be equated to the 2nd of heroin withdrawal. At that point, the 2nd day would be all body pain and the relieving of the bowels. I know it is a disturbing take on the way I was feeling yesterday, but it was the truth. I went and bought some Tylenol PM when I had to go pick up my mother at work. I came close to passing out at the Walgreens and had to have my mother finish the purchase while I slumbered to the car. When she came back to the car with the pills, I opened them and my weakness made me drop the entire bottle upside into the car. It is a bad feeling when you don't have the strength to hold an aspirin bottle.
When I arrived back home, I waddled back into the house, and straight to the basement. I laid there for hours, and then the pills began to work. I started to nod off, and tried to get comfortable for some much needed sleep. I finally drifted off around 9 PM, and then I was awakened by a loud lightning crackle and the thunder that followed. I could hear the rain pouring down outside and my mother came into the basement and asked me if I was awake, which I replied yes I was. She was worried about the sump pump and wanted to know if I should close it so the basement doesn't flood. I told her to call my father and ask him since he knows more about it than I do. I know how to close it, but I wasn't sure if it was needed. The storm seemed to be pretty vicious, as I look outside this morning at sunrise and see tree branches strewn across the backyard and deck.
The Hawaiian plants that I have been growing for my mother seem to be doing well, I guess they enjoy those types of storms. Some of them moved a bit, but they all seem to have grown since yesterday. Maybe it was the nitrogen from the lightning strikes. Well, today I do feel better. I still have the runs, but I think that is just the ending of a wild 24 hours. Thankfully I was off work for two days, because I would not have been able to do my job yesterday. It does suck that I worked seven days in a row, and my days off have to be spent nursing myself back to good health. The joint pain has subsided, not entirely, but I just feel weak and sore. I do have my strength back though, so that is a good sign.
Where did this illness come from? Well, my parents and sister Katie went to a graduation party about 2 weeks ago, and Katie and my father ate some sausage at the party, which caused both of them to become very ill. That illness was passed to my sisters Gwen and Erica, my grandmother, and Katie's fiancee Josh. They were all ill last week, and here I am ill this week. I had just gotten over a head and chest cold a few weeks ago, so I didn't think I would actually get sick. I guess I was wrong. Hopefully, I am the last of the people to catch this. It was a bit more than 24 hours that I have been sick, but I guess there really is a 24 hour flu, which I never really believed in the past.
My sister Gwen had cooked a white bean chili with chicken on Monday night, and I thought for sure she had poisoned me. I didn't say that to her because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, and I am glad I didn't because it wasn't her fault. Well, that is my spiel for the sickness, and I can only hope I am back to 100% tomorrow for work.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Alright, it's not the best job, but it is a job.
I got the call this morning. I start tomorrow at 7 AM. It seems to be a weekend job of sorts, and it is only seasonal, but it will help pay some bills through the summer. I don't know specifically how many hours a week it will be, but I do know I will be working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday this weekend, and probably through the end of summer. It is a delivery job, and it is more than minimum wage, and the best part is I DON'T HAVE TO SELL ANYTHING! Finally, I am feeling like life can return to normal for a little while.
I have been home from Hawai'i for 3 months today. It took exactly 3 months to find a job, I don't know what that means, but I am grateful for it. Alright I have to head to bed, got to get up at 5:30 AM.
I have been home from Hawai'i for 3 months today. It took exactly 3 months to find a job, I don't know what that means, but I am grateful for it. Alright I have to head to bed, got to get up at 5:30 AM.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Florida Law requires welfare recipients to pass drug tests...
If you click on the picture it will take you to the story. It is a funny story, especially if you are familiar with the writings of William S. Burroughs. Welfare recipients in Florida would be required to pass drug tests in order to receive their checks...And someone is thinking of this now? Why not 40 years ago before the welfare programs were busted? Why not 20 years ago during the crack epidemics?
The ACLU believes this to be a privacy issue, and is going to bat for the welfare recipients that are going to be drug tested. Now my buddy Shawn brings up a good point, if he has to get drug tested at work to collect his income, why shouldn't it be legal for someone to get drug tested picking up a check from the Feds? I agree with Shawn 100%. Now given my personal background, I can attest to a lot of ways people I associated with got around the legalities of a welfare state, and used the loopholes available to pinch a pretty penny from the Feds and the State of Illinois. I can say, for legal reasons, that I was not involved in any of this, but people do talk. I refused to accept welfare or public aid, even in the worst of times.
There is, however, an issue with generational welfare. This is a family receiving welfare benefits, and it being passed down to their children, and eventually their grandchildren. Now, if these people need help in finding a job, or paying their bills until they do, I am all for assisting them. If these people are collecting check after check over the course of a 40 year period, then no, there is something wrong with that recipient, or they are doing something wrong and manipulating the system.
Personally, I would love to see the data on the number of people that are convicted of drug crimes and also receive a welfare check. That data would help decipher this problem. Now, I understand the argument is at the discrimination point, where we are persecuting the innocent for a select few that are guilty. Like I said, show me the data of the drug crimes/welfare recipients in any given state, and then I'll decide if this law is being discriminatory.
Back to the original point, the article states that people failing drug tests would be subject to a year suspension, or they have to go to rehab to reinstate their benefits. I think this is a great idea. We live in an entitlement country, where people believe the government should be paying their way. Fuck that, get off your ass and do something. Yeah, I am sitting here unemployed at the moment, and yes I am bitching about it, and yes I blame Obama and the GOP at the same time for the poor economy, but I am NOT running to my local Government office and asking for a handout. I was sick two weeks ago, and should have seen a doctor, but without medical insurance, there is only one place I could have gone, Cook County Hospital, and I would have sat there and waited for hours on end, but hey, I would have gotten free health-care. NOPE, I didn't even do that. The government is broke just like me, except they are borrowing from my kids and grandkids (hypothetical of course) at interest rates that are insane. So why should I increase the amount of money they are spending by asking for a handout?
So, is it fair for a large percentage of Americans to be collecting welfare if they are getting high? I say no, if they have heavy narcotics in their system, especially cocaine, heroin, meth, etc. they should be cut-off immediately, be given an opportunity for rehab, and then they can try again. Rehab worked for me, after all the hard core shit I was up to in my teens and 20s, that says a lot. I have recovered, it took me a long time, but here I am 10 years later, and I still haven't received 1 welfare check. Yes, I have borrowed money, but at least it is debt on my shoulders. Imagine if welfare was a borrowing system like my student loans? That would be an interesting conversation...But the Feds and States should be able to drug test those that receive aid from the government, if you don't want to have your privacy invaded, then don't ask for free money...They should also keep a running tab going, and start a welfare interest rate and a cap on spending. This might deter people, considering the cap on student loans is 138,000, and the interest rates are fixed. Put this system in place with the current welfare program, and let's see how many people reach their cap, and are getting high! Quantitatively, this is a perfect experiment/research project. I don't have the time to dig through the .Gov sites to find the information I am looking for...Ah well, I guess I will just leave it with this...
There is no Free Lunch! I am sure you have heard that before, and it only rings so true at this point, so true!
And...It is day 2...
of my quitting smoking...That is not going very well mentally, but at least it is going! Already coughing up some nasty lung-tissue.
Hipsters and Festivals in Chicago...yeah so far they suck
My former business partner Tim called me to do another shoot of some bands at some hipster festival on Sunday. The first shoot we did a few weeks ago I got paid for, and I was hoping to get paid for this one also, but during the drive there I realized that was just a dream of mine. When we arrived Tim pulled his usual disappearing act and expecting me to handle the camera work. At the other shoot I did that, but this one, knowing I wasn't get paid for, fuck that...
Needless to say, the day ended badly. I ended up wasting my day, so I decided to get drunk. Tim didn't like being around me, and he just doesn't understand how my brain works. I need creative control, but also expect to be paid for my time. I am not a lackey. I just don't work well under those conditions. He pulled one more disappearing act, so I just said, fuck all, and became the most obnoxious person I possibly could. It might not have been the best decision, but those who know me well, know that I just cut the strings entirely when I am pissed off.
The crowd was filled with hipsters, and Tim later said some of them didn't like my attitude and supposedly wanted to kick my ass. At this point, I asked, why didn't they? I would have loved a good brawl. I really don't like hipsters. If you don't conform to their non-conformist ways, then you supposedly are everything against what they stand for. I have a problem with a sub-group trying to stand apart from the mainstream, but having rules of sub-group conformity. I am a punk, not a hipster. I create chaos in any forum, I like it. I stand apart from all groups. There have been few people in my life that were able to handle me and my antics.
I sit here and watch Bio-Dome and realize I come from a time long gone. A time when a rock-star could be on his deathbed, but be loved and adored. A non-conformist meant non-conformity. Grunge was cool, and there wasn't a style that you had to conform too to be able to intermingle in the group. The festival was jammed, and I guess this shows me that I am so far removed from that group of people. Maybe I am just that old guy that doesn't get it, but in my mind I am still that Bluto from Animal House, still looking for my Delta house brothers in life. I have found a few, and Roselle was a good time period filled with a bunch of these types of people. I guess they are mostly dead, and I should be too.
I am not dead though am I? So here I stand surrounded by a bunch of imbeciles and it makes me yearn for my past, but at the same time hoping to find a future crowd to accept me for me, and not me for what they want me to be. I didn't realize Tim had become a hipster. He used to be a metal-head, and I think he has chosen his current course because of the band he is in and the people he is choosing to associate with. I may not have much, and sometimes I do drink too much, but don't judge me. I wasn't causing anybody any pain or harm on Sunday. To top it all off, I was invited to do a job and then stiffed for my pay. If a foreman called me up to build a house, and then didn't pay me, I would burn that fucker to the ground!!!
My life has been a 36 year old tornado, and I have wreaked havoc across this great nation. I take responsibility for my actions most of the time, I just wish those that judge me would take responsibility for their actions. That, of course, will never happen. I am heading out of this Chi-ty again, I just can't handle it any longer. I see a lot of talent, but I also see a lot of misdirected energy. In ten years, these people will have their kids, and broken dreams. They will be standing in a puddle of their own piss, surrounded by the chaos they created, yet they won't know how to deal with it. The funny thing is, they might remember me and hope that I am worse off than they are, because maybe it will make them feel better about themselves.
Anyone that was there on Sunday expecting a free-hand out, well Tim seems to love doing shit for free for you ungrateful fucks...call him, and don't worry about me, I will pull-through...As a matter of fact, I am starting now, with a new book and some awesome ideas of re-creating the future path of greatness...I really dislike Hipsters!
Needless to say, the day ended badly. I ended up wasting my day, so I decided to get drunk. Tim didn't like being around me, and he just doesn't understand how my brain works. I need creative control, but also expect to be paid for my time. I am not a lackey. I just don't work well under those conditions. He pulled one more disappearing act, so I just said, fuck all, and became the most obnoxious person I possibly could. It might not have been the best decision, but those who know me well, know that I just cut the strings entirely when I am pissed off.
The crowd was filled with hipsters, and Tim later said some of them didn't like my attitude and supposedly wanted to kick my ass. At this point, I asked, why didn't they? I would have loved a good brawl. I really don't like hipsters. If you don't conform to their non-conformist ways, then you supposedly are everything against what they stand for. I have a problem with a sub-group trying to stand apart from the mainstream, but having rules of sub-group conformity. I am a punk, not a hipster. I create chaos in any forum, I like it. I stand apart from all groups. There have been few people in my life that were able to handle me and my antics.
I sit here and watch Bio-Dome and realize I come from a time long gone. A time when a rock-star could be on his deathbed, but be loved and adored. A non-conformist meant non-conformity. Grunge was cool, and there wasn't a style that you had to conform too to be able to intermingle in the group. The festival was jammed, and I guess this shows me that I am so far removed from that group of people. Maybe I am just that old guy that doesn't get it, but in my mind I am still that Bluto from Animal House, still looking for my Delta house brothers in life. I have found a few, and Roselle was a good time period filled with a bunch of these types of people. I guess they are mostly dead, and I should be too.
I am not dead though am I? So here I stand surrounded by a bunch of imbeciles and it makes me yearn for my past, but at the same time hoping to find a future crowd to accept me for me, and not me for what they want me to be. I didn't realize Tim had become a hipster. He used to be a metal-head, and I think he has chosen his current course because of the band he is in and the people he is choosing to associate with. I may not have much, and sometimes I do drink too much, but don't judge me. I wasn't causing anybody any pain or harm on Sunday. To top it all off, I was invited to do a job and then stiffed for my pay. If a foreman called me up to build a house, and then didn't pay me, I would burn that fucker to the ground!!!
My life has been a 36 year old tornado, and I have wreaked havoc across this great nation. I take responsibility for my actions most of the time, I just wish those that judge me would take responsibility for their actions. That, of course, will never happen. I am heading out of this Chi-ty again, I just can't handle it any longer. I see a lot of talent, but I also see a lot of misdirected energy. In ten years, these people will have their kids, and broken dreams. They will be standing in a puddle of their own piss, surrounded by the chaos they created, yet they won't know how to deal with it. The funny thing is, they might remember me and hope that I am worse off than they are, because maybe it will make them feel better about themselves.
Anyone that was there on Sunday expecting a free-hand out, well Tim seems to love doing shit for free for you ungrateful fucks...call him, and don't worry about me, I will pull-through...As a matter of fact, I am starting now, with a new book and some awesome ideas of re-creating the future path of greatness...I really dislike Hipsters!
Sunday, June 5, 2011
David Wesley Mitchell versus James McAvoy
So I was surfing my FB page and saw a rather comical post. Has someone ever told you look like someone else? When I was younger it used to be DiCaprio for me, doesn't hold true anymore with the balding genes taking their toll.
Anyway, this is a fellow thespian/friend of mine; David Wesley Mitchell...Someone said he has that McAvoy look...Just thought I would make this easier for anyone to decide, and make a note about the "You know who you look like..." adage that is so common in our Hollywood-esque society...
Why can't people say, "You know James McAvoy looks like you David?" That would be more of a compliment, and less of a, "yeah I have heard that before!" or "Not even close, I am so better looking!"
Anyway, this is a fellow thespian/friend of mine; David Wesley Mitchell...Someone said he has that McAvoy look...Just thought I would make this easier for anyone to decide, and make a note about the "You know who you look like..." adage that is so common in our Hollywood-esque society...
Why can't people say, "You know James McAvoy looks like you David?" That would be more of a compliment, and less of a, "yeah I have heard that before!" or "Not even close, I am so better looking!"
Friday, June 3, 2011
Today marks the 10 year anniversary of the death of a wonderful woman...
June 3rd, a day that lives in infamy, for myself at least. 10 years ago today Beth passed away and it sent me into a downward spiral over the first 3 years, and then recovered slowly to the present day. I have realized that my life has become increasingly difficult to manage. At midnight I did a shot, made a toast to her, and left it alone. I was in a very bad place this morning, and of course I couldn't get anyone on the phone.
RIP Beth Ann Christensen
I will return to this blog this weekend, but I just wanted to post something for now, on the day.
RIP Beth Ann Christensen
I will return to this blog this weekend, but I just wanted to post something for now, on the day.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Just another gem from yours truly...
Hey all, I have been writing some rather wild quips lately, and I figured I should keep track of them...These two are from the past couple of days. Please remember, these are just play on words with a tinge of emotion, don't read into them too much, plus they are funny to me, so they should be to you too, or at least once you decipher the metaphors/analogies...Good day all.
(This was a response to my buddy Ben's question of how am I doing? Obviously, how am I NOT doing would have been a better Burkean question...unemployed, almost homeless, and almost broke, 06/02/2011)
(This was a response to my buddy Ben's question of how am I doing? Obviously, how am I NOT doing would have been a better Burkean question...unemployed, almost homeless, and almost broke, 06/02/2011)
It's little rays of sunshine that burn the skin with SPF 110 being applied like gasoline on an open wound infected with gangrene being sterilized with maggots that just happen to be maturing into flies, which have eaten enough 'shrooms to kill a hippie, make that 10 hippies and 1 dog, and all this envelops the acid rain falling from the heavens making me yearn for peace of the afterlife, but only getting hellfire that boils in my stomach like an ulcer on crack-cocaine...so all in all, things are fan-fucking-tastic! You?
(This was written in my Conquer Club clan forum to express to my clan-mates how life is for a Chicago artist, along with an Archer insert to loosen the crowd...)
Tonight I have come to the realization that I am over-qualified to work with idiots, and I don't have enough professional experience to work with drones, AND my psyche is nearing artistic suicide/psychotic behavior levels, couple that with a bad case of the Mondays, even though it is Tuesday and what I am left with is a call girl (called hookers when they're dead) that won't leave and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels right when the liquor store closed 5 minutes ago!!!!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Today, May 26th, 2011...What's Happening? Hey Hey Hey!
Spent the morning going through the news of the day. Jobless claims are up again? There is a surprise. Economists are already talking about a double-dip recession...Oops, did I just say that out loud?
It doesn't surprise me at all. I am a recent M.A. graduate and have been home in Chicago for week 11 now. After countless interviews and job ad searching I have put my resume back on the shelf. There is no work for people in my field (Communication/Media). The work has slowly dried up because advertising dollars are drying up. Without advertising, media cannot function. Without that funding, there can be no hiring.
Even the corporate jobs, such as P.R., Marketing, or Advertising are not available. I have few options in Chicago. Maybe it's the city I am in, there could be more jobs available in other cities, and I have been looking at the West Coast cities, but even those jobs are limited. I have applied for many over the past 3 months, but without a substantial wage, it is not possible to succeed. My student loans are only in deferment until February of 2012. At that point, my payments will be due, and a salary of no less than 35,000 is do-able.
The issue with the unemployment numbers do not just affect me personally. They affect every American. The more people that are out of work, the less the Government can expect in tax revenue. As the dominoes fall, the Government begins to increase its debt, and will sooner or later fail itself. "Too Big To Fail" was a term used to describe the banks and the bailouts that followed, but what happens when the Federal Government defaults? The term, "Too Big To Fail" takes on a whole new meaning.
Switching topics, what is going on with the weather? We are a little over 3 weeks until the first day of summer, and it is in the 40s today in Chicago, with a cold rain falling on the city. I don't know what is happening with Mother Nature, but it cannot be good. I have been quite sick the past week, and the weather is not helping me in the least. I was never one for medication, but this one has forced me to change that personal choice.
The future of my life beyond the job hunt, or lack thereof, might be for me to head back to school for a 2nd M.A. I am thinking History, but might also consider Poli-Sci. I figured if the economy is still horrible, and I cannot find a job, then I might as well defer my loans for as long as possible while I wait for my Government to get their shit together. It is becoming increasingly disappointing to see the days drag together like an endless nightmare. I stand here at the crossroads again.
I have taken a business call, but for future reference...Angels and Kings on Michigan, shooting Superbig acoustic set with Tim Bauer on May 24th, 2011. Met Jimmy, Frank, Patrick, and John of Superbig, along with the band A Friend Called Fire. Working on OTM website for possible projects working for myself.
It doesn't surprise me at all. I am a recent M.A. graduate and have been home in Chicago for week 11 now. After countless interviews and job ad searching I have put my resume back on the shelf. There is no work for people in my field (Communication/Media). The work has slowly dried up because advertising dollars are drying up. Without advertising, media cannot function. Without that funding, there can be no hiring.
Even the corporate jobs, such as P.R., Marketing, or Advertising are not available. I have few options in Chicago. Maybe it's the city I am in, there could be more jobs available in other cities, and I have been looking at the West Coast cities, but even those jobs are limited. I have applied for many over the past 3 months, but without a substantial wage, it is not possible to succeed. My student loans are only in deferment until February of 2012. At that point, my payments will be due, and a salary of no less than 35,000 is do-able.
The issue with the unemployment numbers do not just affect me personally. They affect every American. The more people that are out of work, the less the Government can expect in tax revenue. As the dominoes fall, the Government begins to increase its debt, and will sooner or later fail itself. "Too Big To Fail" was a term used to describe the banks and the bailouts that followed, but what happens when the Federal Government defaults? The term, "Too Big To Fail" takes on a whole new meaning.
Switching topics, what is going on with the weather? We are a little over 3 weeks until the first day of summer, and it is in the 40s today in Chicago, with a cold rain falling on the city. I don't know what is happening with Mother Nature, but it cannot be good. I have been quite sick the past week, and the weather is not helping me in the least. I was never one for medication, but this one has forced me to change that personal choice.
The future of my life beyond the job hunt, or lack thereof, might be for me to head back to school for a 2nd M.A. I am thinking History, but might also consider Poli-Sci. I figured if the economy is still horrible, and I cannot find a job, then I might as well defer my loans for as long as possible while I wait for my Government to get their shit together. It is becoming increasingly disappointing to see the days drag together like an endless nightmare. I stand here at the crossroads again.
I have taken a business call, but for future reference...Angels and Kings on Michigan, shooting Superbig acoustic set with Tim Bauer on May 24th, 2011. Met Jimmy, Frank, Patrick, and John of Superbig, along with the band A Friend Called Fire. Working on OTM website for possible projects working for myself.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
"Jails, Institutions, and Death" by Kenneth Kirschnick (unedited version)
CHAPTER 15
The garden hose snaked its way from the kitchen sink throughout the one bedroom apartment. There was kink in the hose by the bathroom door. The sound of hissing water trying to flow emanated from the hose. A gloved hand reached down and un-kinked the hose. The water pressure returned to normal. The end of the hose sprayed water onto the plush blue carpet of the bedroom. The black trench coat wearing man picked up the end and began to saturate the entire room. He made sure the water soaked the carpeting with such enthusiasm, that he chuckled as the water sprayed up against wall. He knelt down and sprayed under the bed. He avoided the bed and the furniture. He watched as little puddles formed in the carpeting. After fifteen minutes of saturation, he laid the hose down and returned to the kitchen.
He turned off the kitchen faucet, and began the arduous task of coiling the hose. He used a technique he learned in boy scouts. He held the nozzle in his hand and coiled the hose around his elbow and open palm. It was a good technique for rope coiling, but the hose was a little more difficult to handle than a rope. He watched the end of the hose with the other nozzle swing around the corner into the kitchen. The excess water in the hose spilled out in trail, which reminded him of gasoline. “That might be next time.” He thought to himself.
The hose was coiled up; he replaced the small bungee cord he had brought to hold the hose in place. He laid the hose on the counter top, and went back to the bedroom. He grabbed the long orange extension cord that he had placed on the bed when he arrived. He walked over to the wall with the outlet that connected to the switch on the wall by the door. He plugged in the cord, and stepped out the room holding the other end in his hand. He pulled a large wire cutter from his outer pocket on his trench coat, and snipped the cord at the end by the plug. He threw the cord into the bedroom. It landed like a rattlesnake ready to strike. He giggled to himself, and walked back through the apartment towards the kitchen. He headed over to the sink and grabbed the hose. He walked to the back door, and walked out.
The deadbolt on the front door clicked open. The door swung open, and three bags full of groceries hit the carpeted floor in the front room. One spilled out onto the carpet. There was a mix of spaghetti-os, kernel corn, and tomato soup sprawled across the floor. Jack Ralas stepped through the open door. He shut his front door and kicked off his shoes on the welcome mat by his front door where he exchanged his street shoes with a pair of more comfortable house slippers. He picked up the bags of groceries. He walked into the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter top next to his sink. He noticed there was a pool of water on the counter, and as he looked at his kitchen floor, he noticed there was more water. He followed the trail of water to its source. He realized it was coming from his bedroom. He walked into his bedroom and looked up at the ceiling to see if he could see anything leaking. The shadows of the setting sun had made it kind of hard to see. He reached up for the light switch and flicked it on.
His eyes bugged out of his head and looked straight ahead. There was no one around, yet Jack was looking at someone. There in the corner was a shadow, a face of perfection glowed within a flicker of light. Jack’s body convulsed with the electrical current the jolted his body. It seemed like an eternity, but it only lasted for fifteen seconds. That is when the fuse had finally blown. Jack fell to the ground. His eyes were fixed on the shadow in the corner. Foam bubbled out of his mouth. His fingernails were black, and he slowly breathed. He mumbled a prayer of sorts, and tears rolled down his cheeks to the soaked carpeting. A few minutes passed before Jack faded off into oblivion. His body was lying motionless on the wet carpeting. His feet were black and there was an open wound on his cheek where the electricity had found a way out of his body. The shadow in the corner held its head down and slipped away into the darkness of the bedroom.
Detective Morotta entered the crime scene. He looked around the small one bedroom apartment. After making an inspection of the apartment, he looked at the body. He kneeled down next to Jack’s body. The sound of water squishing under his feet made him feel a little uncomfortable. He had already spoke with the coroner and found out the cause of death. Electrocution was a death fitting for an inmate, but not a civilian. Jack had no prior arrests, and as far as Detective Morotta was concerned, he was an angel. The crime scene investigators removed the body, and Morotta took some notes. He had the feeling this was connected to the murder of Sara Mitchell, but he couldn’t be sure. He prayed that his gut was wrong. In his heart, he knew his gut was never wrong.
If these two murders were connected, then he might be dealing with a serial killer. If that was the case, then Morotta knew the feds would be arriving shortly. Whenever the feds took over a local case, there was usually a lot gopher work involved. Such as, gopher some coffee, or gopher some donuts. That did not appeal to Morotta at all. He found himself in a bit of a predicament. He had to find out who was responsible. He didn’t have a lot of time either, and he knew it.
He headed back to the station and began another long night of paperwork. “So much for being on time for dinner.” He thought to himself.
“I’m on it boss.” Danny spoke into his cell phone.
“Good!” Burt screamed into the phone.
The cell phone went silent, and it took Danny a minute to realize that Burt had hung up. He weaved in and out of traffic to the 16th precinct of the Chicago Police Department. It took him twenty minutes to get from Rogers Park to Jefferson Park, where the precinct was located. He was rather proud of himself. He had made good time.
“I’m here to see Detective Morotta.” Danny told the civilian clerk at the front desk.
“He is expecting you, Mr. Doderling.” The clerk replied.
She reached under her desk and pressed the button that released the lock on the door. Danny heard the buzzer on the door and headed over to it. He nodded in appreciation, and the clerk smiled and went back to her duties.
Danny looked across the large room. It reminded him of his newsroom. Desks were sprawled everywhere. There was no conformity to it. Some were sideways others were half cocked. It definitely made him laugh, because he always saw The Chicago Police as a mismanaged, disorganized, and clustered part of the Chicago Democratic Machine.
“Excuse me, where is Detective Morotta?” Danny asked the first detective he saw.
“Morotta, he is over there in the corner.” The detective pointed across the room to the other side of the office.
Danny nodded his head again in appreciation, and headed through the maze of desks. He noticed that Detective Morotta was not a very big man. He looked the detective over as he approached him. Receding hairline, cheap sports coat draped over a collared polo shirt, and black slacks. He was typing one finger at a time. Danny found that funny, because he thought he only saw cops typing that way in the movies.
“Detective Morotta.” Danny said as he approached the desk.
Detective Morotta looked up to see the young face of Danny Doderling. He snarled under his breath, and then turned it into a smile. Danny knew it was a fake smile. It didn’t seem to bother him. Danny didn’t want to be there either, but Burt had told him to do the interview face to face. It would be harder for the cop to lie this way. Danny didn’t care either way. Even if the cop lied, Danny figured he could get the same amount of truth from his own investigation.
Detective Morotta motioned for Danny to sit down. Danny took a seat on the other side of the desk. Danny pulled out his little tape recorder, hit record, and began to ask the detective about the case of the two murders. Detective Morotta’s answers were blunt and to the point. He really didn’t have much information to hide because he didn’t have very much information at all. He had tried to think of a way to utilize the newspapers to his advantage, but he hadn’t found a way.
CHAPTER 16
“I’m looking for Lil’ Management.” Davis spoke into the receiver.
“Who the fuck is this?” The reply came from the voice on the other end.
“Tell him it’s Davis, and I am in trouble.”
“Oh, hey man what’s up, it’s me Doc,”
“Oh yeah, I remember you from the night we made our break from psycho heaven.” Davis replied.
“Yeah, but Christian, ain’t around right now, he’s on the block.” Doc replied.
“Alright, well, tell him I am in trouble, and need to get out of where I am at.” Davis pleaded.
“No problem, I’ll let him know.” Doc said.
“Thanks.” Davis said as he hung up the phone.
Davis sat there in the old phone booth. He had been trembling all day, trying to figure out what was going on. He had been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks. His hotel room at the Hotel Norford was trashed. Empty bottles of whiskey cluttered the floor. The ashtrays were overflowing with burned butts. He was a mess, and he was out of cigarettes. He had the shakes from the alcohol that his body craved. He couldn’t chance walking to the liquor store, he was trapped. The morning headlines scared him to death.
When he saw the paper this morning on his usual morning walk to the corner store, he bought one and ran back to his room. The article on the latest killing made him uneasy. He knew the police would start searching for him again soon. It was only a matter of time. It was Christmas Eve, and it had begun to snow again. He needed to get out of the hotel, and to a place more secure. He had been hiding out on the west side of Chicago for six months. The money Beth had sent to his lawyer would not last forever. He was not about to go back to jail for murder. He had been there, and knew what kind of life that was to live. He would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen.
He wasn’t sure if he had done anything crazy like murdering his longtime drinking buddy, or his eighth grade school teacher. He tried very hard to remember his past few days of drinking, but couldn’t recall what he was doing. He knew he was capable of murder, but he couldn’t picture himself being that violent and ruthless.
Sara Mitchell was his eighth grade school teacher. She had caught him and Jack drinking behind the school on the day before graduation. She could have easily let it go, but she had to make a big fuss about the situation. That day followed him on his school transcripts all throughout high school. How many kids get expelled from school on the day before graduation? Jack had just gotten a suspension, but Davis was not like by Ms. Mitchell. So she made sure, he got expelled. He still graduated only because all the course work was completed. The transcripts that were sent from school to school showed his expulsion. It created disciplinary problems for him at the four high schools he attended.
Jack and Davis continued to drink daily throughout high school. Even though Davis’ parents moved and he had to switch schools four times, they stayed in contact. Davis read the article on Jack and realized that people from his past were dying. They were not just regular people either. Davis saw the problem immediately. He had motive to kill both of them. Jack and Davis had a falling out seven years ago. Davis was driving Jack home after a night at the bars. Davis hit a light pole on Elston Avenue just north of Bryn Mawr. Jack flew through the windshield, and was hurt badly. It took Jack six months to recover after extensive physical therapy. Jack’s lawyer had talked him into suing Davis. When the court case ended, Davis was ordered to pay all of Jack’s medical bills, and a lump sum of $250,000 was part of the agreement. Davis skipped town and went to Phoenix. That is when he met Beth. He had told her about the accident, and the large restitution, but she backed her husband and knew he would make good on the payments. The accident with the state trooper on their honeymoon had created even more chaos in an already chaotic situation.
Davis realized that the pieces of this puzzle were going to form in a picture of him. When the police put everything together, it was going to be manhunt one hundred times worse than when he broke out of the psych ward. Christian and Davis hung out for the first week, but the gang banging lifestyle was not his cup of tea. So Davis got some money from Trevor, and checked himself into the Hotel Norford. It was a cozy little dump on Pulaski Road, just south of North Avenue. Davis had been here drinking up a storm for over six months. Now that the cold weather had arrived, he went out only once a day, to get a few bottles of Jack Daniels and a pack of cigarettes. He sometimes bought some snacks, but he never felt like eating much. He had lost the bulk of his jail muscle. The rings around his eyes were black, his rib cage stuck out of his chest so much, he looked anorexic. The beginning stages of death had set in a few weeks earlier. He couldn’t breathe well, yet he smoked more and more. He couldn’t make it through the night without throwing up at least once.
The hotel room had a sink where he would urinate, instead of going to use the community bathroom down the hallway. He hadn’t showered in over a week and a half, and his beard was a full three months old. His hair was dirty and shaggy. He looked in the mirror occasionally, but every time he did so, he recognized himself less and less.
Davis stumbled his way upstairs to his room, hoping to make it before he felt like throwing up. He pulled himself up the two flights of stairs. He used the banister to climb the steps, because his feet just dragged behind him. He fell down on his bed and laid there for what seemed like hours. He opened his eyes and for the first time, he saw the shadow sitting in the corner of the room. The shadow had always been there, but it was the first time Davis had seen him. The shadow’s face glimmered, and Davis thought he was hallucinating. He began to mumble out loud, not realizing he was asking for help. The shadow nodded in approval, and then there was a peace in Davis’ mind. He no longer felt compelled to drink. His body wanted alcohol, but his mind had cleared up a little bit. He laid there and rolled thoughts of happiness, Beth, life, chaos, the future, the past, and the present throughout his head. Just as he figured the minutes would drag on forever, someone started pounding on the door.
Davis came out of his daze and noticed it was dark in his room. The time had flown by, and Davis crawled his way to the door. His body was shutting down. He reached for the door handle from a prone position on the floor. The door swung open, and the light from the lights in the hallway blinded him for a second. There was the shape of a man standing over him. Fear gripped Davis for a few seconds. He thought they had finally come to arrest him. He dropped his hand to his side and gave up. His brain shut down and the blackness enveloped his sight. He felt calm and serene. A feeling he had not felt in months.
Davis was fading in and out of consciousness. He felt like he was dreaming but couldn’t wake up. People were talking but the conversations flowed into dreams. He opened his eyes for a second and saw the snow falling past light poles flying by the car he was in.
“He’s coming around.” Doc said.
“Good, man, he looks like I did when I was strung out on that heron last summer. Remember that Doc.” Christian said.
“Yeah, how could I forget, Psycho, made us kick your ass for shooting that garbage into your arms? Yeah, he looks a lot worse than you ever did. Look at his hands, their shaking. You didn’t convulse like that when you passed out.” Doc said as he was watching Davis in the backseat.
“Look, you need to get a hold of some valium or Xanex for this cat. That is the only thing besides liquor that is going to help him.” Christian said, as he tried to control the car from sliding into a curb.
The snow fell down with such intensity, that the streets were quickly covered in snow. Christian drove north to Doc’s house. Luckily, Davis had called when he did, ten minutes later, and he would have been out of luck. Christian and Doc had plans to go to Elgin to hang out with Doc’s baby’s mama for Christmas. Doc was still going, but Christian was going staying behind to help his friend. Christian recalled the hate relationship they had in the psych ward, but that was a long time ago, and it was now time for Christian to help Davis out. Davis never did anything but be a man, and Christian respected him for that. Christian was a Simon City Royal, a street gang in Chicago, and he was down for his clique, but he was also down for helping out the less fortunate. He really enjoyed helping out people who were running from the police. This made him happy. He hated cops, the court system, and the government. Anytime that authority could be undermined, he was the first in line.
They parked in the alley behind Doc’s garage, and carried Davis through the gangway to the back basement door. They tossed him on the couch, and Doc took the car to go fill some prescriptions, the illegal way. Christian removed the coat they had put on Davis. Davis had begun to sweat profusely. He looked bad, really bad. Christian had not seen Davis in about four months. The last time they hung out, Davis got all drunk at an end of summer bash he had thrown. Davis picked a fight with one of the Coffee brothers. Rich and Roger Coffee both took Davis out back and beat the shit out of him. Davis had managed to piss off most of the people at the party, and by the time the fight broke out, there were ten people standing around Davis giving him their best kicks. A garbage can was the last straw. Rich Coffee picked it up and smashed it over Davis’ head.
“You want to fuck with my brother, fucker!” Rich yelled into the hot summer night.
Davis was hard headed and didn’t stay down, which is why the beating was not as bad as it could have been. Christian finally pulled some people away and helped Davis down the alley. He called a cab on his cell phone, and waited with Davis on the corner of Elston and Lawrence. The cab showed up, and Christian tossed thirty bucks in the front seat, and a beaten up Davis Stiles in the back. He told the cabbie to take him home, and the cabbie did just that. Davis stumbled out of the cab in front of The Hotel Norford. His face was swollen; he had a black eye, and a busted lip. He smiled at the front desk clerk with bloody teeth. He loved every minute of it. The physical pain was the only thing that made him feel alive. Beth was gone, Davis didn’t want to live, and yet he couldn’t die.
CHAPTER 17
Burt’s office door swung fiercely open. Luckily, there was door stopper in place; otherwise the handle on the door would have shattered the glass window next to the door. Burt looked up from his desk, and saw Danny standing there with a shit eating grin. He had a stack of files, and he actually waited for Burt’s reaction.
“What the hell are you so happy about kid?” Burt asked.
“I did it boss, I got the story of the century.” Danny waited for another response from Burt.
“Well, don’t stop, tell me about it.” Burt snarled, not liking the drama queen that Danny was playing.
“Boss!” Danny stepped up to the desk and dropped the files he was carrying on Burt’s desk. “In there, are the ingredients to a movie deal. I really could not have gotten any luckier. It seems that Sara Mitchell was Davis Stiles’ eighth grade school teacher. She got him expelled, and Jack Ralas was his accomplice in the situation. Not only that, but it seems that Jack had a large settlement against Davis from a car accident. There is the motive.”
“Really, how did you find all this out? The police?” Burt asked, a little skeptically.
“Well, I talked to the detective on the case, and he was very hush, hush about it. So I started with Sara Mitchell, and began to cross reference Jack Ralas’ name also. I found the eighth grade incident from sixteen years ago. Then I checked up on Jack’s medical history, and found a car accident report, and then the court records. Davis Stiles’ name was on everything. You told me to do my homework, and this is what I came up with. I want permission to write the story.” Danny finished explaining.
“Well, what do the cops know?” Burt asked.
“Don’t know boss, but if they don’t have this information, we will sell more papers. Plus, the paper might bring Davis in.” Danny replied.
“Alright, get it done, I will okay it.” Burt said.
Danny was a little surprised, Burt was not himself today. Usually Burt was a wild man with his ranting and raving. Today, he was calm, almost serene. It didn’t make Danny feel comfortable at all. He wanted to deal with the hard nosed Burt that he had worked for all this year. This man standing in front of him was weak and sick. Danny grabbed the files off of Burt’s desk and headed out to write his masterpiece. When Danny exited the office, Burt reached into his desk for a bottle of pills and his bottle of whiskey. Burt felt Death’s cold hand on his shoulder. The pills dulled the pain, and the whiskey warmed the chill he had on his bones.
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