Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. My mom, for example, raised three kids in the ’70’s, ’80’s and ’90’s on a shoestring budget with little help. My being the youngest, some might even say she’s still raising one of those children. But I digress.

One such person who will always be my hero – Russ. Let’s check out what is happening in this episode titled “Hero”.


Rain and Conversation and Boredom

So, it’s a rainy Sunday here in my home town. I’m stuck inside because, well, I’m too sweet to go out into the rain. I’ll melt. That is of course a smiley-faced lie.17N_CRY LAUGHING EMOJI

At any rate, I was thumbing through earlier written works I’ve done and found one to share.

I like this very short story. It reminds me of what seems so far off now – my former life as an alcoholic/drug addict. I used to go to the bar every night and drink myself into a stupor that my ex-wife couldn’t shame me out of.

By the way, no, I’m not in a twelve-step program and I don’t plan to be. There’s nothing wrong with those programs if that’s what you need and it helps. I’m just not one to be helped by such a group effort. But, this story is somewhat auto-biographical in that, yes, I was in more than one physical altercation in my time. Some that didn’t turn out so well in my favor.

At any rate, here’s a little short story for you to brighten up what may be a dismal day. If yours is like mine – cheers! The story is titled Less Conversation. Hope you enjoy it!


Well, one thing was certain; Beau was drunk. He may have had no clue about anything else at that moment, but he was sure he was drunk. Everyone else at the bar was certain of this, too, because Beau always left drunk. Soused to the wind.

There was about to be a fight. And, of course, as usual, Beau was about to do the fighting. Despite the fact that he really couldn’t fight his way out of a field of over-sized sunflowers with a baseball bat and the help of a steroid shot in the rump, he was going to fight anyway. He was on that cusp. You know, the cusp that comes just after a cross word is said and that cross word pisses you off, and just before your eyes start crossing – that cusp.

The guy was being an asshole, Beau decided. This guy, Beau surmised by eavesdropping, had been saying cutting, derogatory remarks to this very docile, tender, diminutive lady. Beau had been talking to her before Asshole showed up to the bar. Kayla was a doll, no doubt. And in Beau’s state of mind, and the fact that white knights were in relatively short supply these days, Asshole deserved what he was about to get.

Kayla stood up to use the facilities and Beau struck, first with words. “Dude, you’re an asshole. That’s all there is to it. You have this fine little lady at your side and you’re treating her like trash.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Asshole spoke up, eyes on fire.

“I’m the guy that is going to humble you.” Beau jumped and tackled Asshole to the floor. There were no bouncers in this bar. Beau had no qualms about humbling Asshole, and, at the same time, very little resistance. The bartender and a couple of regulars who knew Beau, and knew his track record, were on them both.

Beau yelled, “Take this, Asshole!” Still, with little resistance, Beau wind-milled wild punches, none of which hit Asshole.

Asshole’s turn came. He kicked his knees up into Beau’s back, which sent Beau flying face-first into the jukebox. A CD playing an Elvis tune A Little Less Conversation began to skip, stuck on the lyric “a little more action”. Asshole wasn’t as drunk as Beau. He had the upper hand, and upper foot, which proceeded to pelt Beau in the belt area of his behind. Not once, but four times. The make-shift bouncers tried to separate the two. This was now not a task. Beau, having knocked himself in the head, passed out. Asshole was dragged off Beau and shown the door. He objected of course. Kayla followed, quite bewildered about what had taken place. She had missed most of the little less conversation.

Beau was left to the floor in a heap to snooze off his nine beers, and the action ceased. One patron spoke. “You know, Beau would be a nice guy, if he wasn’t such an asshole.” And, the entire bar said a “cheers” to that particular patron who spoke the words that everyone was already thinking.


A little lesson for us all in that story, possibly. Hope you liked it and until the next colorful post here, take care.



And They Shouted “More Poetry!”

. . . So, I obliged.

This poem I wrote in pieces over the years and combined it into one poem. I didn’t plan it, have no idea where it came from, or really what it means. But it has weight. And it does say something. It’s titled I Chose Here. Hope you like it.


People committing evil deeds,

jump maliciously from hiding places,

underwater breathing through reeds,

finding their victims have similar faces.


Some friends come and go,

but you can’t let go of others,

some are seasonal like fallen snow,

while some are like sisters and brothers.


This timely star in my black sky,

a shining hope in my darkest night,

time has passed, but I try to deny,

the only star that’s bright.


So, what is the effect of reason or rhyme

 in the mindless scheme of things?

 Is it my own happiness sublime

 that my mind had given wings?


I didn’t choose my path alone,

when hearts are part of my past;

on my future and present, I atone,

hoping treasured sanity will last.





“I did it!” he shouted.

So, I did what I said I was going to do – the Gallery. I will add more later on. But for now, check out the paintings I have in those two gallery links. The gallery can be reached through the link at the top of the page titled “Galleries of Paintings”.

Check ’em out. (Smiley Face!)


Poetry in Emotion . . .

I wrote most of the “meat” of this poem in my 20’s. I edited and rewrote it just recently. I was reminded of this poem while commenting on another’s blog. I follow some of the best blogs out there, I have to say.

At any rate, I was reminded of this poem and the fact that, most often, the best and most mature relationships evolve from and involve compromise. If the two entities in question cannot strike agreements in loving relationships, then love becomes a currency. That currency can either kill a relationship or win a relationship. However, when this “tradable currency” becomes tainted in that one entity uses it as leverage, then all bets are off. That currency may lose all tarnished value. The stock market could fail and said “currency” might eventually be worthless.

So, I decided to share this poem titled The Wrong Click – A Bad Love Song. Enjoy it for what it’s worth. I’m sure there’s a clever pun in the previous sentence somewhere. Until next time . . .


You clicked with me, I clicked with you.

Our steps sounded one, our hearts split two.

We walked and talked in wonderful sync.

Though a heart of nothing is a page with no ink.

We gave each other shelter of sorts

Though storms are notorious for destroying those ports.

What’s thought of as love may very well be

No more than lust for one to see.

A heart given on strings tied

To its bearer, no love inside

Is just a thing, an empty shell,

A trite book with nothing to tell.

You stole this shell without remorse,

I killed the shell without recourse.

Or maybe I gave it freely, free as open air,

And nothing is free, because nothing was there.

You showed that shell the barrel of a gun,

And I pulled its trigger just for fun.

Go your own way, that’s what you should do.

Because always and forever, I’m here without you.

New Painting

I swear I will get to that gallery soon. I’m going to upgrade my WP account soon, and when I do, I plan to put in the gallery of my artworks.

Until that time, here’s my latest painting. It’s titled “Somewhere In Europe”. It looks like an abandoned inn in the Italian countryside or something. Hope you like it! Until next time . . .


Somewhere in Europe
Somewhere In Europe

Latest Work – “Owls”

My second work of this year was done for a friend of mine. It was a fun painting to do. I rarely do wildlife at all. So, this was a perspiration challenge (elle oh elle)! But my friend likes owls so . . .




Let me now what you think. I may make this one available as a print on VIDA as well. Also, I may begin producing paper prints on my own soon. I’ll make a page and links to the works available on the upcoming gallery page. These prints will be affordable versus the pricey VIDA canvas decor prints. I’m thinking $10 – $15 plus shipping charges, which unless you live in Kathmandu or the like, shipping shouldn’t be very much at all. Or may just make them one set price including shipping. We’ll see.

Thanks, and until next post . . .