The Amazing Christian L

Have a blessed and safe Memorial Day weekend.  My mother visited the house for 4 1/2 hrs. yesterday.  It was so wonderful to see her getting back to health.   

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKrkEOlyJo8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

 http://youtu.be/r6960mXH-nI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KD7ItOg0HRA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

BC/BEAT CANCER! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TFU7OzyYoQ&feature=youtube_gdata_player

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ri-ipdgOL0&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Jeremy, Chris and Tony, Juxtaposed against this most fervent, yet understated anti war song ever recorded are the images of you, all of you. The greatest life forces I have met in my life time. Jeremy, who patience and dignity gives pause to the rages and conflicts of growing up in a land and time where promises can be more broken and shattered than not. Chris, who seems more real each passing day by simply keeping a silent faith to your tenacity. Tony, The man whose child inside saves the children you hold high to the sun, yet shielding from the heat, but welcoming the light. Catchers. Catcher's in the rye--all of you. Standing almost out of sigh, but not out of reach at the edge of fields of rye--Fields where children at play might stray unthinkingly near them brink...an unwitting fall from innocence to experience. One at a time and all at once, I have felt you tug where sanity might prevail. Fields that have, and still might obscenely become battle fields. Killing fields. Where snow would once delicately melt to force a new spring, but blood would encapsulate and suffocate all memories of life. Catchers as brothers. Those who are wisely charged with saving the rest of us. Brothers who foolishly bear arms give way to the arms of brothers who would hold us back from that final mistake, knowing the killing fields, making blood drenched footprints upon them. Men of cloth who anoint those who have just grown out of children's clothing , but now wearing uniforms of different colors to slay one another--That reasoning , that sanity---I reject it to the marrow. Is it so very wrong to remind ourselves that we were, all of us, brothers in arms, all children at play here? Jeremy, Take me to a place of future sanity where birds are not horrified to look down upon errant footprints--at your field of rye. Jeremy, Chris, and Tony---There is such a thing as a moral trinity. Catch us. Brother us. http://www.youtube.com/watch?list=WL5D

  It's not easy being me, not easy.  I have a 3td shift job as a traveling fire escape salesman.  Ad I am allergic to fire escape rust! It's all those amphibious landing at Long Island.  At least I have a chance to hawk my parting of the Red Sea streak knives fashioned by my cell mate Akmed-Bob (on a cinder block in a Turkish prison on a long Jerry Lewis labor day weekend)   Did I mentioned we adopted a boy dog?? I had Akmed-Bob's pic up on my photo gallery, ya know the one with the one eye brow.  And, no--that is NOT Dominick the hatcheck girl.  (Doesn't  call---doesn't write  *sigh* Um, I do not mean to openly complain *sniffs* but I bough some artificial flowers for mother's day---and they died.  My dog Cookie has a flea big enough to wear a dog collar.  And I suffer from premature---never mind.     And why is Ringo so pissed at me only bc I said he looks like Yasser Arafat? Look, I need help!   I am at the motel on Rte 6.  The door is open---the one next to the almost flashing no vacancy sigh.  Um, id you do not have a secret Cayman Island account, kindly disregard this message in a bottle.   It's not easy being me.  It's not easy being me.