Moms are never far....

                                                             Good Morning.That sweet aroma never fails to stimulate my senses into just enough action to get my feet on the floor and shuffling towards the kitchen counter. Waiting patiently for me, my favorite cup sits all night for just this moment.mmm this is good coffee.I hope yours is just as good. I was reminded yesterday of how magical moms are. Yesterday was mom's birthday and thinking of her always makes me smile. You see, little things she does and ways she thinks reminds me so much of myself. I feel very lucky to have her. I might also add that I was adopted. The courage and strength mom had was incredible to make a decision to let someone else maybe give me a better life than she could amazes me.We were reconnected after 40 years and I have thoroughly loved getting to know her.It was like we were never apart. Once we got past the initial awkwardness, things really blossomed.I know there are a lot of adoptees out there that might feel slighted or have questions of self worth etc... but I never did . I was just always glad I wasn't aborted  and told myself that at least I'm here and that is what counts. People think that the environment plays a big role in whom we become  but I am here to tell you that you always have your parents residing right inside your mind. My adoptive parents are two of the best people I have ever known. They are righteous, good, upstanding Christians and did everything in the world for me but our personalities were so very different that we just could never get along. You see,  Mom was right there with me it seems when ever I made decisions in life. Our personalities are so in line with each other, that it was a little unsettling when we first met. My adoptive parents are the type of people that work at life as a job, always saving for that rainy day, always on the ready for some disaster that's sure to be waiting. As with me , Mom lives life as an adventure, always looking for that new path to walk on. To us life is a road trip with one destination only that we are sure about, the  rest, well we will just have to see.One more cup of this coffee and I think I can start my day. Boy this is good stuff. See you about the same time tomorrow.

Coffee and an Ashtray

     Good Morning....It feels like morning. I have got to get up and pour a cup of coffee before I can even think straight so if you don't mind waiting just a bit till I get some, I think I'll be much better company for us both.  See you in a second............................Ok I am back and slowly waking up. I hope you are doing better. I was  pouring my coffee, trying to think of what to talk about and lighting a cigarette so unconsciously that I had forgotten all about the joys I had when I began to smoke at age three. You see I didn't always smoke. There was a time when I didn't... Smoke free...... Now thats a thought... Some people say its a weakness others say smokers are just offensive and I'm sure there is more but when I started things were a little different. I remember my first one. Well kind of.. I was at my Grandma's house and I guess I was playing in the ashtrays. Well my good natured grandma thought how cute it would  be to get a picture of me smoking a cigarette. Well she gave me one and lighting it told me how to puff it. " You have to breathe in when you take a puff " she said. It did no good. All I did was blow which wasn't the right way to do it as I was told. It served alright for the picture though and she was happy. I know I didn't inhale then but I got the taste for it though.Everyone smoked then. People smoked in schools, in grocery stores, even in hospitals. People turned on the news and the anchors smoked while they were on air. Ed Sullivan, Johnny Carson and many more television celebrities smoked. Why not? There was nothing wrong with it. There were no warning labels, no decals, no lights going off. Smoking was cool and if you were cool, you smoked.My parents were no different. Mom had her Belairs and Dad had his Dutch masters cigars. They were the coolest people I knew then. Everyone loved the picture of me smoking with the exception of them. I was still a hit as far as the family went though. I started smoking regularly when I was seven. It was a year after the little incident at school .I remember my chosen friends { the only ones I could hang out with } and I passed the smoking area on the way to school everyday. One day as we passed, one of the older kids asked if I wasn't the one that brought a machete to school. I tried to explain that it was only a little fishing knife but they didn't care. They thought it was cool. They all gave me the thumbs up and at that moment I felt pretty big. And best of all, my friends were there to see it. " Hey kid,want a smoke? " I heard a senior ask. " Uh Yea, I'll take one " I replied. Two of my friends accepted them as well and we stood out back in the smoking area and we smoked. Yea, we were smoking with the big guys. For second graders we were the big dogs. Straight up alpha, all the way. From then on we felt as big as any one of them. We were cool. I knew what cool meant after that day.I will never forget the first six months of smoking. I threw up after the first couple of drags every day walking to school. I was cool though and no one ever saw me throw up. I eventually got used to it and  soon I even learned what inhaling was.Sneaking a smoke was also fun. It was one of the first things I hid from mom and dad. I would crack the window in the middle of the night and very quietly light one of the Belair cigarettes I stole from mom's pack.By then you see, I was feeling that delicate, gentle tug at the back of my mind  whispering how good a cigarette would taste. That sweet aroma as I exhaled the smoke wasn't making me feel ill any more.I remember when I was eleven I got caught smoking and Dad sat me down and made me smoke a whole cigarette in front of him. He told me that if I inhaled the cigarette I could smoke in the house. I was going to smoke anyway he told me.I had been smoking fairly regular by then , a pack a week , so it was no problem smoking one in front of dad. It sure was awkward though. It was like standing naked in church. It was just one place I didn't want to be.As with all things time passed and smoking infused itself into my being.Cigarettes have claimed me as a friend for 44 years now. We have been through it all together. Even when I have tried to leave, my friend just smiles that knowing smile. " See you in a little while " I hear him laugh. I guess its time I say good bye. My coffee is cold and I have to go to the store. I will miss my cigarettes and I am trying real hard to quit.  You see I made a promise to someone more special than my old friend. It is a sincere promise.I will keep.Soon it will be coffee and more coffee. There will be no need for the ashtray........................

Reputations? Yea I had one.....

                   Well Good Morning. Is it that time again? It must be. I am so glad that I live right behind a Waffle House. Their coffee is so good and strong. Thats what I need this morning, good, strong coffee.I notice it has been raining all night and at this time, before the dawn the air is particularly sweet with a cool, gentle breeze that reminds me of those mornings when mom would have to drag us out of bed. I remember one morning in particular. We didn't have air conditioning, I think it wasn't invented yet. But the window fan more than  made up for it.The whoosh as the blades turned and the cool night air kept my brother and me asleep while the alarm clock clanged on the night stand between our twin beds. That morning though I had plenty of reason for not wanting to get up. You see I had to walk to school ,which was a great priviledge for a first grader, and part of that walk was down a path through some woods that ended by the football field and my classroom. Well for the past two days a couple of tough kids met me on the way and robbed me of my ten cents I had for my lunch. I was not only embarrassed but I came home hungry too. I remember my mom, being the religious person she is, let us watch  " The Cross and the Switchblade" the night before. It was about a pastor that was converting  knife wielding gang members. Well all I saw was guys I knew wouldn't get the treatment I was getting and it looked kinda cool to me. I didn't know what cool was then but I knew I liked it. After finally getting myself out of bed and sitting at the breakfast table, the answer came to me. I had a little pocket knife stuffed away inside a tackle box dad had bought me.Oh it wasn't big. It's blade was maybe a half inch long but in my mind it was as big as any sword. Carefully I tucked the knife into my pants pocket so mom wouldn't notice. Getting my homework together and taking a deep breath I headed out the door towards what I knew was to come. I remember walking a little slower that morning, not being in any particular hurry but not wanting to be late either. There it was. The path. The way I had to go.I did not want to go that way. But how could I not? After weighing all my options, this didn't take long since I had none, I inched my way down the path. Coming around the turn, just as I thought, there they were. I remember reaching into my pocket and withdrawing the knife. Taking a deep breath and remembering those guys from the movie I yelled  " Whichever of you two want my money is gonna get cut"  and I held that knife out before them. They decided I wasn't worth it and they ran back towards the school. So relieved was I that I had to just stand there a minute to take in what had just happened. "That wasn't so bad" I thought and I began walking to school. I didn't notice the kids looking in my direction when I reached school. You see I went to a school that was 1st grade all the way thru the 12th . When I got to my classroom the teacher told me I was wanted down at the office and directed me down the hall. Arriving at the principals office, I was led into a little office and was asked where the butcher knife was. I told the man what had happened and gave him my little knife but all that mattered was that I brought a knife to school. He called my mom, of course, and she came and took me home for the day.I didn't get in trouble at school but I wished I had . Mom was worse than any school could be when we were in trouble. Another spanking, but at least those two kids wasn't going to get my money again. The next day when I got to school all the kids had an opinion about me. They thought I was the toughest little kid there or I was just totally crazy. Either way nobody wanted to find out. That one single day marked the way people saw me all through school. Who knew? The tough kids saw me as one of their own and the rest of the kids were afraid or weren't allowed to hang out with me.The funny thing is that I never had to fight much to prove it either way. Oh there were a couple of times but my reputation gave me an edge and the fight ended as almost as fast as it started. I should mention also that we were usually friends again after a couple of days. Nobody really held any grudges. Is that the sun I am seeing? I guess it is. Time sure flies when you have good coffee!!! Guess its time to begin a new day. Wonder what neat things are in store? Think I'll get one more cup of coffee and see what it brings............            

LESSONS FOR THE SOUL

Sitting here I am reminded that there was a time when I wasn't the wise old man I am now. Surrounded by the peacefulness of night, it's quiet eerie silence after the sun goes down and the world sleeps. This, my friend , is the time I have always cherished as far back as I can remember.Its the time when you can dream about all the things of tomorrow, contemplate all the things of today and like now, remember simpler days when my biggest fear was not getting that Daisy BB gun for Christmas. Yea, this is my night, in my world and at night while the world is asleep I can be me. When I was a kid of about seven, I used to make a game of sneaking out at night and then sneaking back in again. Oh, I don't know why. I think maybe just the thrill of getting away with it. Yea that's probably why.After a while that wasn't fun anymore and I would venture down the road to my elementary school and play around on the football field. Hut one, Hut two,Hike. Yea I was the quarterback and I just passed the touchdown pass.I didn't ever stay long. Just enough to say I did it and I would sneak back in to my house,then try and sleep a little before I had to get up for school. One night, I can remember it as if it was yesterday, my little brother woke up while I was sneaking out yet again. " Take me with you " he cried. " NO" I said. Of course you know what he said. The same thing all little brothers say to their older brothers world wide. I don't even have to tell you ,but I will. He came back with, " I'm tellin mom and dad if you don't take me with you!!!" Can you believe it! I told him to come on but be quiet. Slowly and carefully we made our way to freedom, hoping the kitchen door  wouldn't creak too loud and wake Dad. What seemed like forever, we were out in the night. Oh the beautiful night with its utter silence. Except for the crickets I believed we were the only ones alive at that moment. We began our journey to the school. I was going to show him how I found a way to get into the school's concession stand. I was too afraid to go in but I knew how if I wanted to. I just didn't want to. No telling what you might run into in a strange building. My little brother didn't want to mess around with that either. He was only five. We were there only maybe an hour when we decided to go home. Crossing the main street at just the time Murphy would want us to, we crossed. And as only Murphy would know, a cop passed us and made a U-turn at the next intersection. C'mon, run... Hurry up lets go!!! Here he comes !!! We gotta go!!! Now Run. I ran. I ran hard, as fast as I could. My little brother right behind me. Keep up, I yelled without even looking back. I ran faster than I ever have in my seven years . Slowing a bit I glanced over my shoulder at my little brother. Where's my brother? He wasn't behind me!!! Coming to a full halt, I turned around and saw him back where the cop had him. " oh no" I thought and I ran even faster than before. You see I knew they were going to call Mom and Dad any minute and I did not want to be a part of that. Almost passing out and barely able to breathe, I finally made it home. Slipping in the kitchen door as fast and as quiet as I could, I made my way back up the steps to our bedroom. Reaching the top step, sure enough, the phone downstairs began ringing. I moved faster, climbing into bed, not even getting undressed and began "snoring" feigning sleep. All of a sudden the lights came on and reaching the side of the bed Dad pulled my covers back and there I was.He was so mad at me. It seemed like I couldn't hardly sit for at least a couple of days. You have to remember that when I was young , being spanked meant something totally different. It was no fun, believe me. There were no"out times" in our room. We had just in times when I was young.  Like when Dad tried to hit me with that water hose that one time. You see I ducked " just in time". I learned  a couple of things that night. number one: Never, Ever  assume your little brother is right behind you. And number two; If you are going to take a chance, don't involve anyone but yourself. I think my coffee is finished brewing now so  I will close for now and enjoy this dark,quietness I find so comforting...............