Not An Average Fan

I have been crazy about music all my life. My “Bud,” big brother, James, used to play his sweet blue and white guitar, which may have been a Fender, and I danced on the bed. This as a toddler, and maybe a bit beyond.

I am sure the harmonica my other brother, Melv, gave me, was in use almost enough to drive my parents to send me off for adoption. They gave in to my constant pleas for guitar lessons, and I spent about three years at that.

School had singing, the church had singing in choir. Mom, Dad, and I did an impromptu concert of gospel music almost every night. Of course, I used it as a way to stay out of bed whenever I could. We could go a couple of hours when I was really good at thinking of obscure titles.

I had an impressive collection of Disney albums, the original scores to many movies. My Fair Lady and Tennesse Ernie Ford were also in my collection.

I guess it was about 1972 that they got me a Kimball Swinger Oprea edition organ because I had outgrown the simple plastic one. Again, they were kind to allow me to practice because I am a volume menace.

My brothers left their 45s when they moved out, and I was introduced to rock mostly on a red portable turntable first in the attic, then in my room.

There were Country Music Concerts in parking lots, concerts included with my Six Flags season pass, and later concerts in Atlanta.

Vinyl, eight-tracks, cassettes, CDs, and streaming, I kept music always, and because I hate commercials, I have often avoided radio.

My favorite band is The Rolling Stones. I think over the time since I found them in 1981, I have owned the majority of their work and much of Mick’s solo work.

My son says I am an extreme fan of The Rolling Stones, and I guess he is right. I took him to his first concert to see them. It is funny to me that he thinks me so far gone.

This did not come out how I planned, but honestly, almost nothing I do does.

As a prompt, what is your musical history? Create something about it.

I got some sleep that was deep enough to be restorative. I am ignoring the pain.

Who cares about pain?
We all have it, such a shame,
Try to stuff it, pain.

*****

Take today under
Advisement, be open, beware,
Do not stare too close
At the presentation, be edgewise,
Try to share the beauty on show,
Do not let your reservations
Impair your ability to enjoy,
But remember there are depths
Not visible on the surface,
And you are a multidimensional
Creature in the process of being.

*****

Thank you for your visit here. You may follow Haphazard Creative, or come back when you will.

Many blessings to all of you.

Watch out, Monday is on its way, speeding down a surface street riddled with potholes that may aggravate its temper. Good luck to all of us with that.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

 

It Might Be Okay

It might be okay to hurt this much if there were an acceptable reason for it, like getting run over by a Peterbilt. As far as I can discern, I have not tangled with a big rig. Given the way my consciousness is working, I suppose I may have missed an encounter, but due to COVID-19 isolation, I consider that dubious.

Speaking of isolation, I generally think of myself as an expert, but it has now reached the point my tolerance is fraying. I have spent a goodly share of hours trying to ameliorate my negative feelings. Music seems to be my best weapon since a 9 mm and firing range is not in my vicinity.

You probably have your own list, so, I will leave off illustrating mine.

Oh, I turned on the TV, once I figured out which remote worked it. The first thing to splash on screen was a commercial. Then there were more. Have I told you how much I hate commercials and ads? Yeah, I use VPNs, subscriptions, and avoidance to make those nuisances remain outside my life. My son does not have all the ad-blockers I do, and he is more geek than me. I ask questions of geeks is why I have armor. My aversion is such that I had not touched the TV remote since February. They believe me at AT&T because the DirecTv portion of my bill is less than $20. We will not talk about the outrageous other portions.

The problem with this level of pain is that it works like a predator, which diminishes the possibility of sleep to nil. Sorry.

If someone came to you and told you that you could not fail, what is that thing you would immediately begin doing? Are you already doing it? Preparing to begin? If not, please consider that the item you thought of is your purpose and probable area of giftedness. You should start chasing the making of this the goal of your life yesterday. My son, Alex, and I have an expression, Prime Before, yeah, there is a comic sketch, brilliant really, but he says that is us. I agree I want to have the thing at my fingertips before I know I need it. I believe this is the motive of some of my collective behavior.

I want to be a writer, which I am, and so I write every frigging day. Feel like it or not. Inspiration, or only about the dregs at the bottom of the empty well. I write.

I am not whining to be a nuisance. Were you in my place; you would get the pain. I am doing my best to put positivity to work. I must say when all of the crap built to the point, I just wanted to knock things over and spill everything on the floor, and I figuratively grabbed myself and called out for the only backup I have. I felt a sense of accomplishment. I told Alexa to play Gotta Get A Grip by Mick Jagger. Music has long been a panacea for me. I think music, reading, and writing, along with the grace and forbearance of God, and my dear mother, who is now gone, and the son who has been an overarching blessing, are the defining reasons I struggle to remain.

I am rambling a little; I keep hoping I will find peace enough to sleep. None of you may read this, I am on the edge of giving it up despite my vow. WordPress keeps spamming me about renewing my domain. Commercials, I did say they were abhorrent to me. Yeah, they’re coming into that annoyance level where I decide to the abyss with this. I will note it before I tell WordPress goodbye.

This is getting old, not sleeping.

Very well then, alright. God Bless You all, and many blessings sent your way.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan.

Life For Life

A child in womb, life,
The reason to stand and fight,
A separation
Of purpose, but will to bear,
A child brought hopeful through fear.
Always devoted
Despite trials, battles, high costs
Give and give again
Because love is, does, happens,
Believes, continues, best makes.
Some days years later
When despair encroaches, sears
Body, mind leaving,
The child reaches out, calls to
Account, encourages life.
The realization
What is forged together can
Abide all hardship
Be a saving grace, carry
Forth the ones who will remain.
No other heart touches
The willingness to survive
Like one brought to life,
And unbreakably bonded
With endless familial love.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

As a prompt, create something that reflects the dynamic of a significant relationship.

I am struggling with myself over continuing this practice. It seems I have little influence or impact, and despite that usually being a millennial concern, it is mine too. I fail to know if I should keep putting in the effort. I am fighting my crisis mode of retracting from everything.

It has been good being here while it lasted. All the best to all of you. May God bless you with prosperity, good health, and your fondest desires.

2020.07.09 Weeds at Ramp rr

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

 

Kudos to the Helpers

We have people in our lives that lend us strength when we become weak. These are blessings in human form. Love flows from them against our storms. When one enters our existence, it is a miracle, a grace.

Today some of my heroes reached out, not knowing how much they were needed. My son, Alex, called. His calls always lift my spirit and ignite my soul. We talked, and it was just a wonder.

I called Bernice, and she cheered me on as we laughed together. She gets me, even though I am strange.

I have been struggling, and a few people noticed. Today, my mentor, called. He invited me to lunch, catfish, fried okra, green beans, and bread. He also offered to go shopping with me. I have not been able to get myself to go and had almost run out of food. We went to Kroger and Sam’s Club, and I restocked. He is such a dear.

My best friend, Reba, and I talked. She saved the dog, from physical discipline, after making a terrible mess, by letting me vent. There is so much she does, long-distance, to help me.

My people are my support and much-needed considering. My disease, I cannot express, but love is sometimes the only thing that helps me survive.

It feels good to know I have food. It had reached a critical point.

Tomorrow I go for shots in my knees.

I guess I said all that to tell you, love those people who make life bearable. Never take them for granted. Also, recognize, however low, you feel that you are someone’s hero and do not give up. Life is precious, we are destined, what we will become is to be seen. Hang on. You are a blessing.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Wookie was scolded for making a mess, admonished never to do it again, and then the poor rotted creatures got bacon treats. There was some time-lapse. She was observing proper social distancing since she was not entirely able to predict the actions of her Momma. Truth told at that point, I was not prepared either.

 

Why Insomnia

Hypnos was controller of none of the humans in 2020, the powers above his pay grade had relieved him of that luxury; still, he could disturb their reality. All the distractions vying for attention drove many people to the brink of exhaustion. With his experience in sleep’s theater, Hypnos could easily reach those minds open to predation.

The wily god liked ending sleep only barely begun. On one human subject, he played the game to allow an hour, or three, of rest and arranging something to incite wakefulness. At times it was streaming a louder song, having the dog jump on the bed, changing the room’s temperature, or sending a frightful nightmare.

For another victim, Hypnos reckoned sleeping day hours and wakeful all through the night would be splendid and cause eventual dissolution. A satisfying state of affairs for his purposes.

Humans were oblivious to Hypnos’ interference. The old tales were rarely told, and so their memories were incomplete. His path was without obstacle. People who thought they slept well were providing him with a smorgasbord of dreams. He swallowed their strength.

Alex and I talked about sleep problems and this came up. I think I might do more with it, but I never know.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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