SLIPPING (IN AND OUT OF MY MIND)
©Copyright R.W. Montalbano 3.21.11
I thought about going crazy
But, I don’t have enough for the fare
What if I’m just too lazy
What if I just don’t care
Maybe I can just sit here
And go where I want to go
No one I know, will ever know
I won’t even need a T-Shirt to show
I was there
Slipping in and out of my mind
Sitting here, trying to write
The next line...of my life
On 623-The First 48
Goes by in just one hour
And the guilty just cower
...and cry
Everyone asks them “why?”
But they really don’t know
What if they’re just sitting there - Thinking about going crazy
What if they just don’t have enough - For the fare…
What if they’re just a little too damn lazy - What if they really don’t care
Maybe they just want to sit there
And go where they want to go…
I don’t know.
Why did you say....
All those things about me,
While I was turned the other way?
Did cutting so deeply
Make you feel better
For that one moment
In that one day?
Should I go away...or
Maybe just stay and go crazy
Would you loan me the change
For the fare?
Have you ever been there?
But, what if we just sat here
And talked this thing through?
Would that really mean something to you?
Would you like to see my new T-shirt?
###-
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
SO, WHAT IS IT THAT I BELIEVE...AND WHO CARES?
3.21.11
Reading The Houston Chronicle, watching "Sunday Morning" on CBS and staring at the cover of the latest Newsweek, with a cover photo of Hillary Clinton, staring back at me--
So, I am reading and listening to what "other people" think about - whatever - when suddenly, the image of Mr. Ben Stein, one of the few 'other' geniuses I love, tells me that I need more sleep.
"HE'S RIGHT!!!" I screamed inside of my brain...He Always Is.
Then, I realized that "HEY", I believe in a lot of things. Maybe some of them make sense and could be important to other people...but, who cares what I think?
I mean - besides me and maybe my daughter, whose recent 18th birthday seemed to have opened up her mind...(It certainly has opened up her mouth). And, out of the mouth of this "babe"...shocking stuff. I'll talk about that, later...maybe.
So, what is it that I believe, and who cares? What if I, in the Autumn of my life, with Winter rapidly approaching, I sat down to write about the things and stuff that "I" have believed in, presently believe in and may believe in, sometime in the future? (Although I put a question mark at the end of that last sentence, I don't really know if it is a question.)
This is not a rhetorical question...it is real.
What are the things and thoughts that shoot through my mind, at the speed of--thought? Why do they go so fast? Why don't they hang around a while longer, so I can think about them? (Does this make any sense to you...and, what if it doesn't?)
NOTE TO GOD: WE NEED MORE TIME TO THINK.
Why or Why Not-because we've lost track of our lives. We've lost track of why we're here and we've lost track of so many of the important things and stuff in our lives.
Not too long ago, I had one of the greatest experiences of my life. I went back to San Diego, California, where much of my life "happened". I went there for a reunion of the the brave, wonderful, crazy guys who served on "DDG-22". The Good Ole, USS Benjamin Stoddert. The "Benny Sweat" - the B.S., the ship I served aboard, at the request of a judge in Illinois (back in '63), just less than a year prior, who actually believed that...that woman.
See, while drag-racing against my bests friend at the time, Al Wedge, I ran her off the road...SAYS SHE...THAT'S RIDICULOUS! I didn't do it. Al didn't do it. The choice to "leave" the paved surface of that road was entirely hers. She chose to panic when she saw Al, in his 57 Pontiac, and I in my '53 Ford Business Coupe (in her rearview mirror), driving behind her. OK, I will admit that we were going slightly faster than the actual 'posted' speed limit of...well, I really don't know. When I went by it...it was sort of a blur.
She could have just...pulled over and let us pass...But did she??? NO!!! She believed she would be safer in the middle of that corn field, instead of at the edge, by the road. NOT MY FAULT, YOUR HONOR.
But, the judge, who just happened to be a Lt. CMDR in the US Naval Reserve, thought differently. So---"Anchors Aweigh My Boys"...well, actually, you can make that singular-Al didn't get caught.
"However, the cop that was taking me in, was actually at fault. When he stopped me, he asked me to "follow" him to Police HQ. I thought, "ARE YOU NUTZ"? OK, says I. He pulled out, I pulled out behind him. When he made the first right turn, something happened to my car. Suddenly, the steering wheel locked, and I couldn't make that turn. At the same time, the gas pedal stuck to the floor, and I couldn't stop. It was like "Twilight Zone".
By the time I got home, the cop was there too. This time, I was a passenger in his vehicle. I was just starting to tell him how grateful I was to see him, due to that Twilight Zone thing, when I was suddenly thrust to the floor, when he applied his brakes. "Is this guy crazy?" I thought. I am a minor, and there are no seatbelts in this official car. I could've been seriously injured.
But, I wasn't. LIke I said..."Anchors Aweigh".
Back in San Diego, 46 years later, Johnnie R, Mandy N, Morey P, Dickie N, and me were once again, sitting around a table drinking beer. WHAT A SHOCK! It was as if we were transported back in time to Pearl Harbor in 1964-1965. We didn't miss a beat. It was as if we'd always been there, at that table. It was too bad Bobby D wasn't there. I'm glad Maynard K wasn't.
OK, where was I? Why the hell did I start writing this...and, Who cares?
When I remember, I'll come back and put it right here. Maybe you'll come back and read it...it could happen. Maybe you won't. Anyway-Anchors Aweigh, Me Lads...Anchors Aweigh.
Reading The Houston Chronicle, watching "Sunday Morning" on CBS and staring at the cover of the latest Newsweek, with a cover photo of Hillary Clinton, staring back at me--
So, I am reading and listening to what "other people" think about - whatever - when suddenly, the image of Mr. Ben Stein, one of the few 'other' geniuses I love, tells me that I need more sleep.
"HE'S RIGHT!!!" I screamed inside of my brain...He Always Is.
Then, I realized that "HEY", I believe in a lot of things. Maybe some of them make sense and could be important to other people...but, who cares what I think?
I mean - besides me and maybe my daughter, whose recent 18th birthday seemed to have opened up her mind...(It certainly has opened up her mouth). And, out of the mouth of this "babe"...shocking stuff. I'll talk about that, later...maybe.
So, what is it that I believe, and who cares? What if I, in the Autumn of my life, with Winter rapidly approaching, I sat down to write about the things and stuff that "I" have believed in, presently believe in and may believe in, sometime in the future? (Although I put a question mark at the end of that last sentence, I don't really know if it is a question.)
This is not a rhetorical question...it is real.
What are the things and thoughts that shoot through my mind, at the speed of--thought? Why do they go so fast? Why don't they hang around a while longer, so I can think about them? (Does this make any sense to you...and, what if it doesn't?)
NOTE TO GOD: WE NEED MORE TIME TO THINK.
Why or Why Not-because we've lost track of our lives. We've lost track of why we're here and we've lost track of so many of the important things and stuff in our lives.
Not too long ago, I had one of the greatest experiences of my life. I went back to San Diego, California, where much of my life "happened". I went there for a reunion of the the brave, wonderful, crazy guys who served on "DDG-22". The Good Ole, USS Benjamin Stoddert. The "Benny Sweat" - the B.S., the ship I served aboard, at the request of a judge in Illinois (back in '63), just less than a year prior, who actually believed that...that woman.
See, while drag-racing against my bests friend at the time, Al Wedge, I ran her off the road...SAYS SHE...THAT'S RIDICULOUS! I didn't do it. Al didn't do it. The choice to "leave" the paved surface of that road was entirely hers. She chose to panic when she saw Al, in his 57 Pontiac, and I in my '53 Ford Business Coupe (in her rearview mirror), driving behind her. OK, I will admit that we were going slightly faster than the actual 'posted' speed limit of...well, I really don't know. When I went by it...it was sort of a blur.
She could have just...pulled over and let us pass...But did she??? NO!!! She believed she would be safer in the middle of that corn field, instead of at the edge, by the road. NOT MY FAULT, YOUR HONOR.
But, the judge, who just happened to be a Lt. CMDR in the US Naval Reserve, thought differently. So---"Anchors Aweigh My Boys"...well, actually, you can make that singular-Al didn't get caught.
"However, the cop that was taking me in, was actually at fault. When he stopped me, he asked me to "follow" him to Police HQ. I thought, "ARE YOU NUTZ"? OK, says I. He pulled out, I pulled out behind him. When he made the first right turn, something happened to my car. Suddenly, the steering wheel locked, and I couldn't make that turn. At the same time, the gas pedal stuck to the floor, and I couldn't stop. It was like "Twilight Zone".
By the time I got home, the cop was there too. This time, I was a passenger in his vehicle. I was just starting to tell him how grateful I was to see him, due to that Twilight Zone thing, when I was suddenly thrust to the floor, when he applied his brakes. "Is this guy crazy?" I thought. I am a minor, and there are no seatbelts in this official car. I could've been seriously injured.
But, I wasn't. LIke I said..."Anchors Aweigh".
Back in San Diego, 46 years later, Johnnie R, Mandy N, Morey P, Dickie N, and me were once again, sitting around a table drinking beer. WHAT A SHOCK! It was as if we were transported back in time to Pearl Harbor in 1964-1965. We didn't miss a beat. It was as if we'd always been there, at that table. It was too bad Bobby D wasn't there. I'm glad Maynard K wasn't.
OK, where was I? Why the hell did I start writing this...and, Who cares?
When I remember, I'll come back and put it right here. Maybe you'll come back and read it...it could happen. Maybe you won't. Anyway-Anchors Aweigh, Me Lads...Anchors Aweigh.
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