Blog | Well That's a Fine How Do You Do - Part 3 / Blog | Well That's a Fine How Do You Do - Part 3

Song: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.
By, Roberta Flack

Your last junior high school dance has arrived. hang on a second pal, do something about that hair.

Zip up that fly, stop looking like you’re going to barf.

Because that 13-year-old girl across the dance floor? yeah….that one, right there.

Is looking right at you.

Your mission? if you decide to…accept it? is to get up the nerve to ask her to dance.

For God’s Sakes Man! be cool. keep it together. try not to look like such a goof.

She’s looking over here. keep it together.

Oh Hell’s Bells! not them? not now.

Three of your best so-called pals are egging you on.

“Go on Maaaan! What are you Chicken?”

“Chicken Fried Fraidy Cat!”

“Hey Hogan? your fly is open.”

Quickly I reach down and check my fly. my chucklehead friends are exchanging punches in the shoulder.

She’s not going to wait forever, go on, ask her.

If that dickhead (Name Deleted) gets to dance with her first? you’re going to have to egg his house in retribution.

Wow? look at her. those eyes, that smile. She’s so pretty, wish I had a girlfriend like that.

Did I just say that out loud?

You look over and notice no visible reaction from your friends who are still punching each other in the shoulder.

I think she likes me? she say’s hello from time to time in the halls.

Hopefully? the last time I grunted in return, I didn’t sound like I had been dropped on my head.

Why does she keep looking over here?

(Name Deleted) comes over. We exchange hard punches in the shoulder.
Song: Theme from Shaft

By, Issac Hayes

I swear, if (Name Deleted) asks her to dance? he’s going to disappear forever beneath a pile of dirt clods.

I take a slow deep breath.

It’s Now or never.

I start towards her.

Unbeknownst to me (Name Deleted) is right behind me.

I never saw it coming.

I fly into the refreshment table knocking it over.

Laughter erupts.

Sitting on the floor amidst a puddle of Hawaiian punch and cookies.

One of my friends yells out, “Nice going Hogan! You idiot.”

(Name Deleted) isn’t finished.

He jumps on my back, grabs my head in his hands, ramming it repeatedly into the gym floor.

As they pulled him off me, he had his pocket knife out. and has stabbed Mr. Raley our principle in the hand.

Our Gym teacher Mr. Pro grabbed him from behind in a chokehold and knocked the knife out of his hand.

The Police were called.

(Name Deleted) brother had been killed in Viet Nam earlier in the year.

Understandably he’d taken it hard. this was just his latest incident of rage.

A month earlier he pushed Joe our school janitor down the stairs.

I would be ok. I had a bloody nose, large bump on the head, and a tear in my really cool red corduroy smoking jacket.

The nose and head would heal. The Jacket?

Mom was gonna be upset, I’d gotten it special for the dance at Just Jeans. ®

They took (Name Deleted) to the police station. No criminal charges were filed.

He was suspended for the rest of the school year.

As he was being loaded into the back of the police car?

He spotted me. I have bad dreams remembering the look he gave me, even today.

From the backseat of the squad. He shouted.

“Will you wait for Me?!?”

I thought he was talking to me? I pointed to myself.

“Not You Asshole! Her!”

“Don’t dance with him! You’re suppose to be with ME!”

She looked right at him and made a face like she had eaten something that didn’t agree with her.

Shaking her head, she said, “No!”

Powerful word. no. get’s right to the point. no.

After that? he got quiet, remaining very still, until the police car took him away.

I turned to look at her, her eyes met mine. I smiled.

She didn’t smile back.

Several of her friends surrounded her.

I was crushed.

Why didn’t she smile back?

I heard my friends laughing.

Why didn’t she smile back?

Shaking it off, I walked over to them. pretending not to notice. after all. they’re your friends.

The dance was over.

One of my Teachers, Miss Bass asked me if I was alright?

I nodded that I was.

I wasn’t.

I’m hurt, I’m pissed, my new red corduroy smoking jacket is torn!

I decide to walk home.

About half way, I hear a voice behind me.

“Robert? Wait. Robert.”

“Are you ok?”

Touching my hand to the bump on my head, I nodded, I was.

“Why didn’t you ask me to dance tonight?”

I look down at the ground paralyzed. Then at her, shuffling my feet.

” I….I don’t know.”

Only, I knew. I was afraid. Afraid she’d say no. I turned away and walked home.

No goodnight, No, see you in school on Monday. Nothing.

Song: Alone Again (Naturally)

By, Gilbert Sullivan

I wanted to have that night back.. I wanted another chance.

At the time. I felt like I’d blown it!

When you’re a thirteen year old. you think that every moment is the last chance you’ll get.

Then? you find out it isn’t.

The light bulb goes on. Chances and Opportunities happen everyday.

You just need to recognize them.

And act on them. Unafraid.

I eventually got that dance.

Song: Doctor My Eyes
By, Jackson Browne

 My Last Junior High School Dance 1973

Song List

1. Hello it’s Me
Todd Rundgren
2. Lean on Me
Bill Withers
3. Theme from Shaft
Issac Hayes
4. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
Roberta Flack
5. I’ll Be Around
The Spinners
6. Me and Mrs Jones
Billy Paul
7. Mother and Child Reunion
Paul Simon
8. Everything That I Own.
Bread
9. Rockin Robin
Michael Jackson
10. Brandy ( You’re a Fine Girl)
Looking Glass
11. Your Mama Don’t Dance
Loggins and Messina
12. Right Place Wrong Time
Dr. John
13. Saturday in the Park
Chicago
14. Nights in White Satin
Moody Blues
15. Heart of Gold
Neil Young
16. Dancing in the Moonlight
King Harvest
17. It Never Rains in Southern California
Albert Hammond
18. Long Cool Woman (in a Black Dress)
The Hollies
19. Crocodile Rock
Elton John
20. Reelin’ in The Years
Steely Dan
21. Morning Has Broken
Cat Stevens
22. I Can See Clearly Now
Johnny Nash
23. Day After Day
Badfinger
24. Go All The Way
Raspberries
25. The Witch Queen of New Orleans
Redbone
26. Drift Away
Dobie Gray
27. Troglodyte (Cave Man)
The Jimmy Castor Bunch

I was looking for something to help me relax.

Yoga helps reduce stress, alleviate health problems, makes the spine supple.

I would like all of those things.

Yoga is used as a complete exercise program. and as a physical therapy routine.

I can understand that.

Where I get a little confused? is when I hear people go a little too mystical on me.

Telling me that Yoga is “The cessation of the perturbations of the mind.”

“That the ultimate goal is a state of permanent peace.” Permanent State of Peace?

Is that even possible?

I’ll bet even the Maharishi himself smashed a lamp or two in his day in anger.

Will Yoga heighten my awareness? reduce my stress? keep me in good physical shape?

I was willing to give it a shot.

The day of my first class,  I was asked by my instructor. “If I knew where my Chakra was located?”

Chakra?, No? No I do not. Chakra is located just below your belly button, if you are a man? it’s located above your junk.

If you are a woman? get somebody else to show you.

Generally I don’t want to be pointing at or placing my fingers around the woman’s Chakra. Dig?

The Chakra is where all of your energy emits from.

After my first class I won’t forget thinking, You’re going to teach me how to breathe?

If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be here right now.

I’m paying someone to teach me how to breathe.

Apparently my poker face and eye roll gave me away. as my instructor rephrased her point.

“We will teach you how to breathe correctly, or better.” expelling bad energy, with cleansing breathing.

The instructions I’m getting here, this information? is not something I can share with my friends.

I can’t go and tell the fellas I’m taking Yoga.

I might as well tell them I’ve decided to become an astronaut.

“Hey umm Jocko? I started taking yoga classes.”

“Yoga!?! Wha? What for? Yoga? Wha? isn’t that where people sit on the floor and chant? Fucks smatter wit you?”

Followed by a punch in the nuts.

We often fear what we don’t understand grasshopper.

I went to class almost a year, 3 to 4 times a week. it was a wise decision.

After each class, Our yoga instructor would invite the class to stay for tea afterwards.

We’d sit on the floor in a circle basking in the glow of a completed class.

I’d feel good, alert, upbeat, relaxed, happy and content. I was at ease. she would pour us tea and pass the cup to her left. the person next to her would pass the cup to their left, each person would continue to pass the cup to the person seated to their left until it went around the circle to the person seated directly to the right of the instructor. no one would drink from their cup until everyone had a cup of tea. no one would pass a cup across the circle or break from the cycle.

This had something to do with the energy field in the room. before we drank, we’d lean forward to one another and bow. I must admit to you, there was a lot of positive energy in the room. you could feel it.

I asked the instructor one evening.

“What type of tea is this?” asking if it was Green? She’d smiled, “No.”  “Is it Oolong?” again she smiled “No.”

I know my tea’s a little so I asked, “Is it Chai?” smiling she replied, “No.”

Our instructor appeared a little evasive to my queries. finally several classes later when she realized I would keep asking her, she gave me the Korean name of it. which of course I’d never heard of, and had difficulty pronouncing. she could have told me the tea I just drank was high grade liquid plutonium and I wouldn’t have known it.

I was just curious, what’s the secret or mystery? I think you should ask what you put in your body. I know this…..I felt great after drinking it. most likely I felt euphoric due to the combined effect of the yoga class and the tea. I was told it would help me cleanse my system. It tasted ok. and seemed to contain a large amount of caffeine. I was up, feeling great. without the jitters. on my walk home from class I would be smiling from ear to ear.

Yep, I was extremely happy with the results of signing up to take yoga.

Except.

There was one thing, that kinda bothered me about the tea circle. after we’d finish our tea. our instructor would ask for a volunteer to wash the cups. in the sink, in the bathroom.

The bathroom? not really that sanitary. still, I complied with the request to clean the teacups.

No one else ever volunteered to clean up after tea. Except me

It was as if the instructor had asked, “OK, I need someone to go behind enemy lines, this is a dangerous mission and you might not make it back.”

After every class I’d finish my tea, look up, and people would be heading for the door. so? I’d volunteer again.

This one evening after cleaning the cups I asked our instructor why no one else would take a turn?

Looking me in the eyes, she held both my wrists, spoke softly while bowing to me, “Cleaning is good for the soul.”

Oh OK…got it, good for the soul….except.

I kept dwelling on it. the harder I tried to let it go? the more resentful I grew.  I’d look at the rest of my yoga practitioners, hoping that one of them would feel the need to clean their soul.

C’mon! Somebody else take a friggin turn. I’ve been cleaning these cups for months now. I’ve got a job. I didn’t sign up to wash your dishes. for goodness sakes someone else take a Turn!

Breathe! Breathe Dammit!

On the day of my last class. things had gotten weird, like things do from time to time.

Seriously needing to cease the perturbations rolling around in my head before I started flipping over tables and breathing fire.

I was greeted by my instructors smile and hug. I warmly hugged her back.

Then I removed my coat and shoes, bowing before entering the room.

This is done to show respect for the space and keep the positive energy flowing.

I went to the front of the room and placed my mat on the floor.

Class began.

I closed my eyes, and let the negative energy leave my body by slowly exhaling, then slowly Inhaling good positive energy.

Yeah…..that’s it, ahhhhh, the day’s troubles began to lift and drift away. Leaving me with a serene feeling.

I would stretch and hold positions to facilitate flow and energy. I would sit in the lotus position and listen to myself breathe.

I would visualize myself beside a river at the side of a mountain. I was at that moment at peace. it was beautiful.

Class ended.

We all sat in a circle, our instructor began to pour us our communal tea. We passed the cups bowing to one another as a sign of respect. I felt good. Until I looked up to see the last of my class exiting the room.

I collected the cups and headed for the bathroom.

Closing the door behind me. looking into the mirror. I held a cup in my left hand and let it drop onto the floor. It shattered. I lifted another and let it fall to the floor.

Then I dropped several more cups into the toilet.

Someone knocked on the door. It was my instructor, asking me if I was alright?

I opened the door and bowed to her.

“Robert? What has happened?”

I told her that the perturbation of my mind had caused me to go berserk.

I bowed again, moving past her carefully, I put my shoes on. And went home.

We all have to chart our own paths.

My path was not doing her dishes.

I throughly enjoyed taking yoga. There were lots of positive benefits.

I would recommend it to everyone.

There are many different forms of yoga out there. I just need to find one that doesn’t require cleaning the cups.

Dear Son,

I have received your first letter to me and I am extremely well pleased at your obvious ability to write a most intelligent and interesting letter with no spelling errors. you go to the head of the class in my opinion. It was good of you to write me and I appreciate it.

I am enclosing your driver’s license and the original letter from your lawyer. He has been paid.

I am very happy to hear things are going well with you in the scholastical line. I know you will not become too optimistic regarding the understanding traits of some of these teachers. I always knew I was in good shape during the semesters, but when the day of atonement arrived I was given the bum’s rush. I am pulling for you.

I do not wish to lecture to you in my letter and I shall make this the last time I will even discuss such delicate subjects. All I want you to do is be happy, have a good time. and with the way you spend money you are going to need to be in the mid to high six figure earning bracket. as you know the first three figures don’t count and you can readily see six figures is getting up there.

Rarely does a young man have any consideration in the spending of OPM and in the event you don’t know what OPM means, Your Grandfather would have told you that OPM means other people’s money. During the balance of this term, I am going to send you money weekly, as we all know, ? , don’t we, if you are given two weeks play money, as well as money for food and clothing at one time, it won’t even last a week.

Money will always be a problem to you. the best way to be is to not spend what you haven’t got. now as long as I have money, I will endeavor to provide adequately for you.

I suppose there are lots of things about which I could lecture you. but a character your age usually knows the answers so I will not enliven this letter with a lot of criticism especially since I truly feel I have nothing to criticise your goodself.

Matters are pretty much status quo back home. Your Mother works too hard, and worries too much. fortunately for us all she still gets out to get her hair done, and shop as much as she pleases, so she seems to be happy. She is going to have to find a new butcher as my meat was tough tonight. but we had a little caviar which freshened up the meal a bit. we will probably get to the ice cream and fudge sauce, a delicacy that seems to be served only whilst you are in the area.

Your Mother wanted more room in the basement for her things, so I sold the pool table and the guys who bought it nearly busted it as they were trying to get it up the stairs. She felt you would be disappointed and I told her that you would understand!

My Old Man used to say to me, “Take care of your Mother.” and I know you realize I can take care of myself at the present time. and who knows? I may become so damned senile, you may be presented with the burden of taking care of me some years hence.

Trouble is the easiest thing in the world to get into and expensive to get out of, at all times. Please, it is tantamount that you follow the straight and narrow path until you are on your own and can make your own bail.

Assuring you of my continued vigorous protection of your interests. again may I say it was good of you to write. and when you are down to your last sawbuck, you only need to call me and if I have it you will have it.

Lots of Love from

Father

P.S.  That bit about the pool table was a dream.

L to R: Roach, Robert Hogan, Tom Hogan.

Roach had me by the collar. He flung me like a sack of potatoes.

I landed in the lake. My older brother dove in after and fished me out.

We called the kid across the lake Roach.

I’m Not sure why? Maybe that was his name or just some nickname he got tagged with? Roach meant to toss me in the direction of the Bear that charged us. unfortunately for him. I slipped out of his hand as he windmilled me, and I flew into the lake, not into the path of the bear. sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes? the bear? he eats you. I was 4 going on 5.

I don’t remember much? remember the lake and the cabin. But not that day. though others would.

Our family spent the month of August that year in Northern Wisconsin in a rented cabin on a chain of lakes vacationing. My older brother Tom and I would find all kinds of stuff to do that summer. Dodging Bats in the attic, Fishing for Tadpoles and Listening to the Loons.

I looked up to my big brother. he was cool. I wanted to tag along everywhere he went. I’m sure that day he would’ve rather hung around with Roach across the lake? instead of his pesky little brother. Can’t say I blame him. There was a ten-year age difference between us. after a while you have to get exhausted listening to a 4 year olds relentless questions? on the rare occasion they would tolerate my company.

We were walking from our cabin to the Roach’s cabin on the other side of the lake by taking a path that skirted along the lakes edge.

I didn’t understand the concept of wild animals back then. Not that I would have thought that the beast charging at us was Yogi Bear.

The Bear we found out later was only trying to protect her cubs. we startled it. and it did what bears do. protect their young.

Roach never liked me much. I was just a nuisance to him. a little brat. my brother was put in charge of watching me that day. my parents were going out shopping. he had no choice, he was told, “Watch your little brother.”

When you’re young. you don’t get up in the morning and make plans to do anything. you just hit the ground running and see where the day takes you. hopefully you have some fun, laugh and find some trouble to get into that won’t necessitate a trip to the hospital.

That day I got lucky, I just swallowed some lake water. Roach? he didn’t fare so well, he lost a lot of blood. ending up with a huge bite out of his right arm and left leg. the bear bounced him around like a rubber ball. I’m not sure how many stitches he took? my brother tried to explain it to me. after trying to count the number on my fingers? I lost track, anything after ten to a 4 year-old? might as well be in the hundreds.

I realize how fortunate I am that I slipped out of Roach’s hand.

At first, he was considered a hero. Then he spilled the beans. he meant to toss me at the bear, hoping it would go after me instead of him. I was nothing more to him than cannon fodder. Sorry kid? wrong place, wrong time.

Our family would visit Roach in the hospital, bring him gifts, offered to help his parents with their medical bills, we believed he all but saved my life. they politely refused. after he was released. he was confined to their cabin for the remainder of the summer. We’d go over every day. bring him cookies. hang out, drink coca cola sitting in the shade of his screened in porch looking out at the lake. it was fun, good times, easy living.

Until a couple of days before our vacation ended. while goofing around. my brother made growling noises at Roach. and he snapped, he started to yell and scream, his arms were flailing about. I don’t think my brother intended to scare him? although? this was the same guy who told me the Boogie Man lived in our bedroom closet.

Once Roach calmed down. he came clean with the real story. We never saw him again. My Dad was fit to be tied when he heard the truth, Mom calmed him down, he figured it wouldn’t do any good to make a stink. His kids were OK. There were no bite marks or scars for them on this day. Those would come later for his boys. And not at the hands or claws of a bear.

I feel horrible.

But the squirrel has to take some of the responsibility here.

I was just trying to clear snow off the sidewalk.

Time slowed down.

If you’ve been in a car accident, you know what I’m talking about.

Hearing the spinning of tires in snow rounding the corner down the street.

I yanked the starter cord and the snowblower roared to life.

Exhaling into the air I could see my breath.

As the car sped by, must have surprised the squirrel crossing the street? it came flying over the snow covered parkway in front of our house in a full tilt boogie.

The sight of a flying squirrel startled me. I’d heard the stories. Saw the cartoon. Yet, I didn’t know that they were indigenous to this part of the world? in the jungles maybe? Not North America.

Falling back into the snow bank. the grinding snowblower blades swung in the direction of the airborne squirrel.

Poor dumb bastard didn’t stand a chance.

I watched as he flew overhead in the direction of the blades, our eyes met just for a moment? he seemed both frightened and really surprised to see me laying in the snow.

Like an out of control ski jumper who’d already committed. there would be no high marks for this jump. and no medal at the end of the competition.

It was ghastly.

The freshly fallen snow on our parkway was…..well?

I tried to save him. but alas my skills as a squirrel surgeon are limited.

Seeing what was left of him, I made a quick judgement call. I had to do the humane thing and put him out of his misery.

The shovel seemed to do the trick.

Although, having to explain to several seniors leaving church across the street what I was doing with the shovel? proved a wee bit unfortunate.

The police were called to our home, they took my statement. wanting to know if I had any plans to leave town?

When I told them I didn’t? they asked me to be more careful. that this town didn’t take kindly to squirrel killers. reminding me it was a friendly village. they had laws against this sort of thing.

I mumbled under my breath as they left.

Taking the remains of the squirrel to what I refer to as Boot Hill in the corner of our backyard.

I gave him a proper burial and spoke some real nice words over him. I’m sure his kin folk would have been pleased.

Looking back. It was probably a mistake that I named him, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Rocky’s not alone out there in Boot Hill. he’s buried along with a dead opossum I found frozen solid next to the garage last winter, a decapitated chipmunk my wife found in the backyard. and what appears to be the remains of some former homeowner’s deceased beast, its scattered bones made it look like it had been in some sort of tussle?

When I came inside the house.

My wife asked, What were you doing with the shovel in the backyard?

I told her, I was burying Rocky.

Who The Hell is Rocky?!? she demanded.

That’s when I just lost it and started to sob. I know, I know?…..it’s just a squirrel…you say. but you weren’t partly responsible for his demise.

Hoping it snows again soon to cover the massacre stain out in front of our house. Too many kids in the neighborhood are stopping by to check it out.

I’m just trying to distance myself from the whole incident.

I can’t change things. if I could go back and save Rocky? I surely would. but I can’t. what’s done is done.

We grieve the loss, we may get angry. We may question our own exsistence. But at some point, we need to put it behind us and move on.

I’d like to think Rocky would have wanted me to.

You have to learn to let go. Once grief gets ahold of you?

It can be hard to move on.

But take it from me, it’s the best course of action.

Life is so short. For us all.

Forgive yourself.

It’s the only way out.

It’s been said that with long exposure to extreme cold temperatures people will get a little goofy.

There have been documented cases of individuals wandering off to die in the woods if overcome by brutal cold temperatures outside.

Reports show the soon to be blocks of ice will just lay down in the snow and expire. dreaming they are on a warm sunny beach. completely unaware that their body is shutting down.

Going from cold stupid to cold crazy is a fine line. Delusions and Hallucinations are commonly reported. the ability to think rationally disappears.

Cold stupid you just don’t know any better. you aren’t aware of the effect the cold is having on your system, you get confused.

Cold crazy? is just that. you are off your nut friggin goofy. doing goofy stuff.

I swear. I had no idea what was going on.

The police filled my wife in after they found me and took me to the hospital.

It was right in the middle of the coldest weather to hit town in two decades. they called it a Polar Vortex.  -15 below zero, with the wind chill making it feel like -35 below zero.

Right before the freeze hit town, we had several snowstorms dropping close to a foot of snow in our area. the day the cold hit, the snow plows in our village kept plowing in the end of our driveway,

I went out several times to clear it so we could get the car out in the event of an emergency. my wife pleaded for me not to go out that night, that the temps were now being broadcast as dangerous.

“Please don’t go outside, it freezing out there.” she said.

Aw Baloney! Came my brilliant reply.

This was nothing more than the media making a big deal out of nothing again. that’s what the media does these days. Every single time a weather related story comes on.

Run for your Lives!

It’s the End of the World!

Every storm now has a name. It’s not just hurricanes, tropical storms and typhoons. now it’s winter storm this and winter storm that.

It’s just a snow storm, why does it need a name?

“Bunch of bunk.” I said.

“Sweetie please.” she pleaded.

“No, I’m going out to shovel the end of the driveway. they’ve plowed us in again!”

They found me a couple of hours later.

We traced my steps the best we could after the fact.

Mrs Anderson down the street told the police she heard a noise on her front porch that sounded like growling.

When she turned on her front porch light. A man was standing there pointing his finger at a plastic Santa Claus decoration in an accusatory manner.

Upon seeing her standing in the window, she reported I slowly turned and pointed my finger at her, growled and ran off between the houses.

Weather report on the evening news was broadcasting dangerous temperatures in our area.

Munk McPherson told his parents he was watching TV in the living room. instead of doing his homework when he heard a scratching at the window. he opened the blinds and spotted me standing there looking in at him. Allegedly, I held up my index finger and mouthed Shhhhh.

Terrified, Munk yelled out to his parents in the next room.

I disappeared into the darkness. Allegedly.

Footprints in the snow revealed I tried to jump a wrought iron fence a block away, Sadly, I didn’t quite make it.

Apparently the last time I tried to vault myself over. I only got half way. getting impaled by a spike on the top of the fence.

It pierced through my pants stabbing me in the right cheek of my buttocks.

The following morning they found a small piece of what looked like gristle stuck on the top of the fence spike.

A block away, John and Margaret Mulligan’s Dogs started barking. I had tried to break into the locked shed in their backyard. a motion detector that turns on a flood light to deter small critters went on.

Alerted by the light and hearing the commotion, John Mulligan immediately called the police.

I crawled into the Mulligan’s dog house trying to hide they say.

Mulligan opened his back door yelling outside, “Who’s there!”

A strange buzzing noise was coming from the dog house.

So he yelled out again, “WHO’S OUT THERE!”

A pained voice yelled back.

“GO AWAY!”

Sporadic Buzzing continued to emanate from the dog house.

Mulligan grabbed a baseball bat.

Thankfully the police arrived, cautiously entering the backyard before dragging me out.

They gently placed me in the back of the squad car, blasting the heater,  covering me up with a blanket until paramedics arrived.

Once in the Ambulance, I was transported to the hospital.

Upon examination.

I had a cut on my forehead that didn’t require stitches. a gash on the right cheek of my rear end that did.

Thankfully I didn’t lose any fingers or toes to frostbite. remarkably, my hat and gloves stayed on throughout the ordeal. it took several days to get the feeling back in them.

I lost my wallet, the keys to our house, and no small measure of my dignity.

Having to get nine stitches in my ass while the nurses giggled, was a wee bit embarrassing.

They brought me home from the hospital today.

Tried to contact Mrs Anderson. though she hasn’t returned my calls as of yet.

Apologized to The Mulligan’s for the damage to their shed and doghouse, offering to pay them for any repairs needed.

Also apologized to Munk McPherson. which was tough, cause I can’t stand the little brat.

Nevertheless, when you’re wrong? you say you’re sorry. even if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Mostly? I feel bad for scaring The Mrs. An Amazing Woman with The Patience of a Saint.

If only I’d listened.

Once again she was proven to be correct. And for that, among other events in the evening, I feel so incredibly foolish.

We still have a lot of unanswered questions about that night.

The very last thing I can remember besides being really really cold was going next door to help an elderly neighbor shovel her driveway.

There were signs that I sat down in a pile of snow, to rest perhaps? Most likely overcome by the below freezing temperatures.

After that? it’s anybody’s guess.

Not very smart I’ll admit.

The mind works in strange ways when your body is being taxed.

I just wanted to keep the end of our driveway clear of snow?

I was really fortunate to survive.

Mother Nature is not to be trifled with.

The elements are unforgiving.

Not everyone gets a second chance.

We shook hands. he introduced himself. then invited me to sit down and make myself comfortable. I had never been to the fortune teller. I was given the gift of a visit by my friend Ann who told me the guy was incredible. “You’ve got to go, he will freak you out. make sure you bring a tape recorder, he talks fast and gives you lots of information to digest.”

I’ll bet. I thought.

An estimated 15 percent of Americans have visited a psychic for advice. The Intuitive profession is on the rise following the economic downturn.

When the talk rolls around to Psychics and Mystics and Gypsy Women and those other seeyers and soothsayers who claim to be able to see the future? I am an admitted skeptic.

I’ve seen the neon signs. have your future read. palm reader, tarot cards. look into the beyond. I believe that these people are scam artists. taking the money of people who are weak minded. the gullible who believe in this type of stuff. the mentally unstable, The I just know there is someone out there who can help me? who can contact the dead. Maybe tell me how my Dad is doing? or my Mom? What about my dog Mick who died? is he pissed that we buried him in the backyard and then moved out of our house four years later?

There are people who have suffered traumatic life events and haven’t been able to figure it out. what am I suppose to do now? who’s going to show me the way? most of us are capable of finding our own ways. plotting our own courses. we don’t need some woman with a crystal ball or man in a turban with a pendant of an eye hanging from his neck who tells us what’s going to happen? Your Uncle wants to speak to you. Wait just a second? My Uncle? What? He barely said three words to me the whole time he was alive? bunch of phony baloney.

Until I met Donny When?

I was a little surprised. given his name I just assumed he was Asian. Donny When? sounded Asian to me. so I was surprised when I walked into his office and found a man about 5′ 7″with a 1960’s Beatles Haircut dressed in a oxford shirt and dress pants. Donny took a seat behind his desk. he told me that the length of my visit was an hour long. If I wanted to tape my visit? I could. I turned on my mini tape recorder, I had brought at my friends recommendation.

Donny explained to me that he didn’t consult a crystal ball.

He was a Voice Natural Direct Sensitive in Voice Recognition, Telepathy and Precognition. My session would include past, present and future events. The reading I was about to get was based on voice recognition. that he would be able to answer my questions about personal relationships, careers, buying or selling a house, lost items, jobs, affairs of the heart, financial outlook, or any question I may have. he would do so just by hearing the sound of my voice.

He told me that he has always had this ability, that it is always on. and that he can’t turn it off. that when he hears people talk, he see’s pictures and words that tell him not only who the people are, but what’s going on in their lives.

Donny asked me if I was ready? I nodded I was. “let’s begin then.” he didn’t close his eyes and put his hand to his temple and exhibit the signs of a man going into some kind of trance. he simply asked me to tell him a little about myself. what was it that brought me here? all I could think of was, C’mon Pal? you mean? you don’t know why I’m here? I gave him a brief explanation. I kept it short and sweet. I did talk with him on the telephone briefly prior to our visit, he instructed me to compile a list of questions I wanted to ask him and receive information on.

I had lost my brother to a drug overdose a few years prior. I asked, “I want to know more about my Brother’s death?” Donny told me that my brother’s death was an accident. that no one else had a hand in it. he didn’t kill himself intentionally. And that he didn’t want to die. that I shouldn’t think anything else. then, he said something strange. Donny told me that my brother was ok. that he doesn’t want me or my sister to worry about him anymore. he is at peace. that he misses us, wants us to go on with our lives and not to worry about him. 3 years had passed since his death, it was still hard to hear someone talk about him. after a moment I composed myself. looked at Donny and asked him. “How did you know I had a sister?”

I never mentioned to him that I did.

Perhaps? these guys do a little research prior to your visit? to drop information on you that would make you buy into what they were selling? smiling at me. I don’t want you to worry about your sister. she is going to be fine. you don’t need to worry about her. despite her problems. she would be fine and not require any assistance from you. she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself physically and financially. you need to focus on you. stop all your worrying. wait a second? the information was coming at me too fast. my sister would be ok? a relief to be sure, if? that is, I bought into all this bunk.

“What else do you want to ask me?” I wanted him to tell me something that would prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did have some sort of power to see things.

“Donny? can you tell me what I’m thinking?” he said he didn’t work like that. that when the person he talks to speaks? he can see images and hears words that inform him about that person.

OK then? I asked one of the questions that all of us want to know. “Will I find love?” Donny looked back across the desk at me and told me. “Yes, you will, but before you find that love? you need to be receptive to it. to be open to it. otherwise it could present you with problems.” “Who’s not receptive to love or being in love?” I asked.

“What I mean is? that if you aren’t honest with women? you will encounter difficulties.” he responded.

“Ok, what if? I just got out of a long term relationship. what if I’m not looking to settle down yet? what’s wrong with looking for a little companionship?” “It’s understandable if you don’t want to get into anything long term after your divorce. if you’ll remember, part of the problem with your former wife was that you both stopped being honest with each other. it’s simple really, don’t repeat the mistake is all I’m saying.”

“I don’t recall telling you I was married?” Donny looked at me smiled and shrugged.

My mind raced, ok, maybe he has some database that he checks to get information on people. family history, criminal history. then he looks it over prior to your visit and drops the hook with the bait on you. so? he knew I had a sister. so? he knew I was divorced. I just need to ask more specific questions.

“Will I ever be wealthy?”

Donny said “Usually people ask me that first. then they want to know about finding love. and lastly their loved ones. I applaud you for not asking me that question first. it speaks to your character. I know for you, the most important things in your life are the people you love. while that will sometimes get you into trouble, if you stick to these beliefs you will have a great life. if you don’t? expect complications. as for your wealth? it can be defined in many ways.”

“Ok, Ok I got it. Donny? will I make a lot of money? will I make a whole lot of money? will I ever need to worry about my finances again?”

He sat back in his chair. I leaned forward. “Yes.” he said.

I clapped my hands together. “Wait? Yes what? Yes, I will make a lot of money? or Yes, I will need to worry about my finances?” I asked. “Yes you will make a lot of money. but not in the way you expect. your wealth will come to you in a most unexpected way. it will be of your own making. you won’t marry into it. you won’t hit the lottery, you won’t fall into a large inheritance. you will earn it.”

“How?!? How does it happen? what do I do to get started?” I pleaded. “That is something you will have to find out yourself. I don’t operate like that. I don’t have winning lottery numbers to give you. I don’t give out advice on how to make money. all I can tell you is that you will make a lot of money. lots of it as a matter of fact.” “Can you see when?” “No I can’t.”

“Tell me more about finding Love.”

The hour went by fast. I’m glad I taped the appointment. there would be much to learn from replaying it.

I thanked Donny for his time, we shook hands and I left.

Walking to my car, I wondered. can this guy be on the level? no way this guy or anyone else can predict the future. can they? just because something hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean that it won’t? maybe it will happen tomorrow, or the next day or the next? still? is that anyway to go through your life? wondering when the Fortune tellers predictions would come through? What role if any does fate play into all of this? how did he know so many details of my life? was I wrong all along?

I went home and replayed the recording of my hour with Donny When.

I met my friend Ann who paid for my visit for dinner that evening. “So?” she asked me excitedly? “what did he tell you?”

I smiled at her. “Are you sure you didn’t tell Donny anything about me when you set up my visit?”

“No, why? What did he say?” she asked,

“Well? it was an interesting hour. he told me my brother’s overdose was an accident, that he didn’t mean to kill himself. he told me that my parents and my old dog were fine. he told me that I would make a lot of money in my life. and he told me about you.”

“What?!?” she said. “He told me about you. how you feel about me.” I told her. she looked down and got quiet. softly she asked, “what did he say about me?” “You mean about us…don’t you? Well? he told me that the reason that you wanted me to go see him so badly was because you had feelings for me.” “No he didn’t.” she said.

“Ann? Is there something you’d like to tell me?

She looked at me. looked away, then back. “I love you.”

I know, Donny told me. why didn’t you say anything? I asked.

“I was afraid if I did and you didn’t feel the same then this would be….”

“Over?” I finished.

“Yes, I don’t want to lose you. you’re the best friend I have. I don’t want to….”

“…Ann you’re not going to lose me. why didn’t you tell me?” I took her hand in mine. You know I’ve been reluctant to get into anything serious with a woman? after my marriage ended. I didn’t know what I wanted. I told you I dated a lot. when I look back at it? I wanted to punish the women I dated, make them hurt. just like I’d been hurt. I broke off every relationship I had badly. if they said something, or did something I didn’t like? Get Lost. I don’t need you. I was an asshole. I can’t change who I was. Some of the relationships I had? were great for a while. All I wanted was to get laid and have some fun. having a woman in my life was the farthest thing from my mind. that was then. I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t have a crystal ball. can’t see into the future like Donny When claims to. I know when I’m with you…I feel good. I know…I like spending time with you. I know, I love you too. I’m so sorry if I scared you into not being able to share your feelings with me.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“He told me that you wanted to take me home, tear off my clothes and throw me on the bed.” I told her.

“No he didn’t!”

“No. No he didn’t. he told me the secret to love was to be honest. not to fall into the same habits. he also told me that you had an interesting collection of lingerie. and would like to model some of it for me.”

She laughed, “perhaps? let’s see how the rest of the night goes first. ok?”

“Do you really think I’m like a metronome on a piano? That my moods swing either this way or that way. that if I could just find a middle ground.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” she said. So? I did.

Thank You Donny.

The Glass exploded above our heads. crystalized mist rained down on everyone seated in the place.

“What the Hell?”

It took a minute to realize what had happened.

We looked up to where the glass had come from. at the top right corner of the pubs massive front window was a small circular hole about the size of a quarter.

I turned back to the Redhead. who was covered in it. “Are you OK?” she nodded and winced “I think so?”

Grabbing a towel off the long wooden bar on the far wall. I dabbed it in my water-glass. gently touching her back and shoulders.

“Stay still.”

The bar had gone silent, Walter the bartender yelled out? “Is Everyone Alright?”

A table of five pointed to the back wall of the place where a curious hole near the ceiling was.

A young man about 25 years old was telling his table mates,

“I heard it! buzzed right over my head. 10 feet lower and you’d be calling an ambulance right now.”

Someone had just fired a shot from outside into Gingers Ale House.

But who and why?

I had met The Redhead about 3 hours earlier. she was standing at the side of the stage all alone. wearing a short green dress and swaying to the music. She was just a itty bitty little thing. Cute as a button.

I caught her smiling at me.

Perhaps? it was the silly grin on my face. I don’t know? dancing back and forth to Terrance Simien and the Mallet Playboys all by myself.

I had a groove going. enjoying the live music in front of me, free from the emotional torture of the past year. my divorce had been a life sucking kick in the balls. tonight, I put the wreckage of it behind me.

I was now…finally…looking forward to the future.

“You need to get out man.” friends kept encouraging me. they were right of course. sitting home in front of the television had grown old.

I’d decided to stop by North Center Street Fest after work to see a band I liked.

I told her, “I can tell the type of person someone is by a little quiet conversation.”

She suggested, “Gingers Ale House?”

Hailing a cab. I held the door for her.

As we entered, she grabbed my arm, cooing “Ooh a Gentlemen.”

Ginger’s wasn’t crowded that Friday night. It was still a little early for the regulars.

We took a table at the front of the room next to the window.

“So what brought you out tonight?”

I told her, “To hear the band, didn’t feel like staying home.”

“You can’t stay home on a Friday? that’s no fun.”

Our conversation flowed, she was easy to talk to. seemingly interested in what I had to say. I learned she was an actress in town. Theater, Commercials and Industrial Films mostly.

I asked her “Have I seen you in anything?

“Not yet.” she replied, “Just some small store front theater, few commercials. nothing national. I’m changing agents right now, taking some classes. I’m going to get some new Headshots taken next week.”

Moments later, we were covered in a glass mist.

I leapt into action.

Walter the bartender refreshed everyone’s drink after making sure his patrons were all ok.

Red excused herself to use the bathroom. I watched her walk away. her hips moving ever so….

Like a big old walleye, she had me, mesmerized. I had inhaled the bait.

When she sat back down she asked me what I did?

I told her, “I was a double naught spy.”

“Really?” she said.

Starring deep into my into my eyes, she asked teasingly. “Do you work under cover?”

I sat up straight, pulling my chair closer, leaning across the table telling her, “That’s the best kind of double naught work. All you need is a good bottle of Champagne and The lights of the city to make the opposition talk.”

“Pity, we don’t have a good bottle of Champagne?” she pouted.

Mustering up my best Scottish accent.

“But we do Moneypenny, Dom Perignon 96 back at headquarters, interested?”

I paid the tab and we left.

The cab pulled up to my building at 655 West Irving Park Road.

We drifted through the lobby, Our Doorman Steve an off duty Chicago Police officer was working that night.

Discretion was Steve’s thing. he’d chat you up normally, though if you were with a lady? he would say good evening, open the door and most importantly not slow your roll.

A Pro if there ever was one that Steve.

I pressed the number 41 in the elevator. she leaned against me, looked into my eyes. I put my hands on her waist pulled her in, kissing her. the elevator stopped and we got off.

I opened the door. the full expanse of the downtown skyline was the first thing you see when you enter.

At night with the city lights twinkling in the background? it grabs your attention pretty quickly.

The place was no bigger than a hotel suite. one large room, full of windows that face south down Lake Shore Drive to the City. there is a small kitchen off the hall and a bathroom. once you see that view? mee-o my-o.

I moved into the kitchen to put the Dom on Ice.

Martin Denny drifted out of the speakers.

“Would you like to dance?”

Red nodded, then held up her hand for me to wait. taking her shoes off. standing before me in her bare feet. I took her hand in mine, placing my other around her waist gently twirling her so she could she the lights twinkling outside.

Slowly, swaying in each others arms.

After a couple of glasses of Dom, she headed to the bathroom, looking over her shoulder as she went, teasing she’d be right back. I leaned on the register cover on the windowsill looking out at the city.

The door to the bathroom opened, she glided over. the back of her dress was undone. looking up, Red battered her eyelashes. “What about that interrogation you promised? ” her dress slid to the floor.

“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary Miss Moneypenny.”

Lifting her onto the register. she wrapped her legs around my waist.

At last, all was right in the world. it had been a long time since I had a woman in my bed.

For a while now, I had been looking for someone like this. call me crazy I think she was too, something in her eyes said so. that and the fact her dress and panties were on the floor in front of me tipped me off.

I pressed her hips and back against the window.

Behind her, the window suddenly spider-cracked. it began to break into pieces.

Grabbing me around the shoulders and neck. She screamed.

Broken glass dropped onto to her back and down to the street below.

Thankfully I had a good hold of her.

I wouldn’t have liked to explain to the police or her family as to how she fell 41 stories with no clothes on.

Or what exactly was she doing up on that windowsill? I spun her away from the broken window onto the bed. nervous laughter erupted.

“Are you ok?” she nodded yes.

“Don’t move.” I ran and got a damp towel, dabbing lightly on her back…..once again.

Leaning forward Red started to laugh hysterically. I thought at first she might be crying until she lifted her head.

I held her face in my hands and kissed her.

I found out a few days later.

The phone rang, it was Red. she needed to see me right away…..

“Of course you do baby. I understand.”

Turns out? I didn’t. She was married. that would be a problem. shame too, it was all going so well. I had hoped it would last a little longer.

Did I miss the signs?

She wasn’t wearing a ring? I never heard her mention her husband once?

To be fair, I never asked. Didn’t think I had to? She sure wasn’t acting married the past three nights.

I told her the truth. if I had known she was married? nothing would have happened.

Suddenly, I was the other man.

Wasn’t that long ago where someone else was the other man. now? I was?

I knew all too well how that felt. looking at it from a different perspective doesn’t make you feel any better. lovely as she was? it would end badly.

Leaving my building a few days later, Steve was at the front desk on the phone. he waved and nodded at me as I passed him.

I stepped out into the night, the punch caught me flush on the jaw. I staggered back through the window of our building.

The glass shattered, the guy who hit me jumped into a car and sped off. Steve called the police along with an ambulance. he was able to give them a detailed account of what happened.

Good man that Steve.

They would arrest Red’s husband the next day at home.

I woke up in the hospital. with a Concussion and a Broken Jaw.

“Good Boy meets Bad Girl….Damage estimated at Twenty Thousand Dollars……”

She came to see me in the hospital to apologize.

I couldn’t talk through the wired jaw. turns out her husband had been following her all along. he was the one who had fired the gun through the window at Ginger’s.

According to Red, he wasn’t aiming at us? she hoped I would be alright. that when I got better?

“Maybe we could get together for lunch?”

Lunch?

I would be taking my lunch through a straw for a while.

Redheads…..The Devils Children.

I always loved Halloween as a kid. What’s not to love? dressing up in a costume you thought was cool? going to people’s houses and getting free stuff?

Who doesn’t like free candy? Psychotic’s, Sad People and Oppressors of Fun. That’s Who.

Living in a high-rise in the city, there is just not a lot of families with kids. mostly single people and couples having a good time trying to make kids.

I missed out on a lot of years passing out candy to trick or treaters while living in a high-rise.

Got Married and Bought a House a couple of years ago.

Now when Halloween rolls around I find myself flashing back to those youthful times of Trick or Treating.

I absolutely look forward to passing out the candy.

Figured after what went down last year? I would try to make this one memorable for the kids who come to our door.

This year, the kiddies are going to remember coming to our house. they’ll get a treat of course, they’re are also in for a few tricks.

Halloween is supposed to be a little scary, isn’t it?

I’ve always thought? you keep em guessing. No complacency on our block. I strongly suggest you pay attention. Scary things might happen. the unpredictable may occur. keep your shoelaces tied tight, and be ready.

It’s Wooooooo….Muhahaha….Halloween!

I’ve decided I would scare a few of the little critters by dressing up. I don’t want to just go with some lame costume or mask. I want to create a scene. a happening. little something they won’t forget.

Bounced some ideas around with the fellas at work. which were all shot down.

So? I’ll come up with something on my own.

I’ve got a few ideas. Though I’m not spilling the beans. it’ll wreck the surprise.

I was told some of these kids were too small to scare. the parents wouldn’t find it cute or the least bit funny if I dressed up like Michael Myers and jumped out of the bushes like last year, standing there silently, clutching a bloody cleaver to see what they would do?

As it turned out, last year? most of them cried.

It could have been a lot worse, I decided not to put on a hockey mask, smear fake blood on my shirt and run at them throwing raw hamburger meat.

I thought it sounded like a great idea. give the darlings a little scare. get their blood flowing.

I underestimated in hindsight how many freaked out kids would end up having really bad nightmares,  due to my miscalculations.

A lot of these kids today are on mood stabilizers.

How was I suppose to know that? I didn’t know? nobody told me?

Admittedly, I was a little surprised that so many youngsters would lose their water standing there on our front doorstep frozen in fear.

I didn’t have any idea how many would drop their bags of candy and cut and run screaming?

How did I know that many of the parents would absolutely freak out?

Who calls the cops on someone trying to bring joy and smiles to the little creatures of the night anyway?

I’ll tell you who. the uptight, the ungrateful. My neighbors, that’s who.

The thing that was really embarrassing, and I quite frankly couldn’t understand was? That We… Well I?…made our local paper. Right there on page 3. “Local man over does it on Halloween Pranks.”

Funny how sometimes trying to do the right thing can turn out so wrong?

Police cars were everywhere.

I counted seven at one point. Must have had every squad car in the village here. For what ?!? No one got hurt…except for the kid who got trampled by a couple of stampeding fat kids. nothing serious, just a scraped knee and a bloody nose.

Clearly parents are wound way too tight when it comes to their kids these days.

Listen, They aren’t going to change their career path because someone scared the pants off them on Halloween.

If anything? it will toughen them up! So? when they are actually confronted with their first taste of real terror years from now? they won’t curl up in a ball on the sidewalk holding their knees rocking back and forth with their thumb in their mouth!

I told the cop. “Officer? if you think about it? I was celebrating this holiday in the fashion it was meant to be celebrated, by us scaring the ever-loving crap out of each other! it’s just one night? besides? it gives these little monsters something to talk about in school the next day.”

“Hey Scooter? how about when the crazy old dude jumped out of the bushes holding that cleaver? I swear man, I thought I was going to mess my pants right there! that was awesome! and he gave out full size candy bars! I can’t wait to see what that old kook has cooked up for us next year!”

Now, thanks to some overprotective parents who think they know what’s best for their precious little angels? I have to come up with some kid friendly idea this Halloween so I don’t scare the poop out of them.

My wife suggests we go out-of-town. which I think is a bad idea. do you remember what happens to houses of people who aren’t home on Halloween? then she suggested “OK, we’ll just leave a basket of candy out on the porch with a sign that says, “Happy Halloween! please take only one piece.”

C’MON! as a kid if we saw that sign we’d empty the basket into our bags and then throw it on the roof of the offenders house.

Doesn’t everyone already know this? it’s one of life’s universal truths.

You gotta be kidding me?!? take only one? got news for you honey? no one only takes one.

Last year? I was slapping these little punks hands away from the bowl of candy all night, if they could get their grubby little digits into the bowl they were coming away with at least a fistful.

Take only one? that never….ever happens.

Some of these kids need some coaching OK?

I had way too many 6 year olds showing up to ring the door bell completely unprepared.

Last year, I’d open the door, the kid is standing there in costume, maybe some face paint on. they’d look up at me and say?……….nothing.

We’d lock into a stare down, I wouldn’t move, they wouldn’t move. I’d just look at them. they’d look at me. after what seemed like forever. I’d shrug my shoulders at them as if to say, What? What do you want kid? they’d just sigh and say?………nothing.

Say something kid. what brings you to our doorstep today? hello? anybody home in there? silence. I’d settle for anything at this point. it was more than a little disturbing.

Say something kid! anything? who cuts your hair mister? Why dontcha rake your leaves? your decorations suck.

Eventually I’d just give up waiting for the “Trick or Treat!” reach down and put the candy in their bag, and close the door.

I place the blame on the parents who instruct them not to talk to strangers.

Halloween has a set time limit. It Wasn’t always that way. Years ago, we had beggars night.

This was nothing more than the night before Halloween, you would show up in costume and hit 10 or twenty houses as a warm up. you’d be surprised at how many people would at first say, “Wait?…What?” Then, tell you to hold on a minute. Coming back with a few pieces of candy.

Occasionally you got some grump, who would stonewall you.

But if you were really Wily? You’d make up some nonsense like you were going out of town with your parents and wouldn’t be able to go trick or treating the next day. it helped if you could sell it with a sad face.

Another clever ruse was you had to help volunteer tomorrow with treat or trick for UNICEF.

How would they know? We knew they wouldn’t call UNICEF world headquarters and ask, “Yeah I’m just checking, we got some kid at the door says his name is….? what’s you name kid? he says his name is Larry Sellers he’s here tonight asking for candy telling me he’s working for your organization tomorrow? Can you confirm he’s on the list before I drop a Zagnut bar on him? He is? OK Thanks.”

The Next night on Halloween after the candy giving ends for the night. and it get’s dark? That’s when the older kids set out with mischief and mayhem on their minds.

And since I got tired of cleaning up all the mischief and mayhem off our house last year. I’ll be ready for them this year. I’m renting a police officers uniform and patrolling my yard after dark.

My friend Jocko tells me it’s a bad idea, That I could get arrested for impersonating an officer.

Doubtful it would stand up in court?

“It was just a costume your honor.”

Halloween is what you make of it.

We aren’t celebrating some religious holiday. Nor are we celebrating the birth of some national hero or great leader.

Halloween is different. there is no fear of offending some ethnic or religious group on this day.

It’s the one day every year we can put aside our differences of opinion. politics, various religious beliefs and scare the ever-loving snot out of each other.

Make no mistake about it, I don’t ever want to see anyone get hurt. nor do I encourage property damage of any kind. all I want is your psyche to be a little messed up when you get home from your trick or treat rounds.

That said, sadly there are way too many overprotective parents out there. you people know who I’m talking about?

Halloween use to be a lot more fun.

What’s happened to us? there are way too many rules now. too many constraints. you can only trick or treat between the hours of 4 and 7 pm?

“I’m sorry, it’s 7:05 and we’re having our dinner. Halloween has ended. please stop ringing our doorbell and leave our front porch immediately or I will be forced to sick the dog on you.”

And please? what is it with this? Don’t give kids anything with peanuts in it. because they might be allergic to it? boo hoo! if they are? that’s tough. that’s on you and your kid. lock that kid in a bubble at home and quit screwing this up for the rest of us!

I’ve read that 5 out of every thousand kids has a peanut allergy. something about kids today not getting outside enough to play in the dirt? too much time spent on the Computer, or in front of the TV?

OK? here’s an idea for a costume for your allergic kid. get a Hazmat suit that fits them and turn them loose. when they get home? hose them down in the garage. after that? you take their bag of candy and sort it for them? give all the peanutty stuff to someone else whose immune system won’t crash because of a snickers bar?

We are celebrating fun. Our Youth. And candy. Who doesn’t like candy? That’s right! sad people! and psychotic’s! and oppressors of fun!

Now I want you people to get out there and scare the hell out of the kids this Halloween. I will be. Woooooo! Muhahaha! Boooooooo! I don’t care if I do get arrested again. if I do happen to get pinched by the Po Po? I will be out on bail before the 10 o’clock news. As a matter of fact? I will consider this Halloween a colossal failure if I don’t hear some real screaming or see some kids running for their very lives!

Come to my house? you won’t forget it. I promise you that Sparky. You’ll thank me when you’re older. You’ll remember me. Nobody remembers the Nice Lady who hands out Milky Way’s dressed like a Fairy Princess. Or the Dad dressed like Dracula with the Charleston Chews. They remember the guy who scared the heck out of them.

That Old Guy down the street who opened the door in his robe and slippers holding an Ice cream scoop. Who asked them, “if they wanted Vanilla? or Chocolate?” and when they didn’t respond fast enough? he dropped a scoop of ice cream right into their bag.

They remember That Guy!

Moving into a new neighborhood, one never can be exactly sure who your neighbors are going to be.

You can do advance scout work.

You can go to the street on which you hope to live and park your car at night.

Roll down the windows, listen for barking dogs or screaming children or loud disturbances that might seem out of the ordinary.

But in the end? you roll the proverbial dice, and take your chance.

It’s a bigger gamble for those who own in this regard. if you rent and get stuck next to an intolerable situation. you can break the lease, or wait a year and move when the lease runs its course. either way you can get out of dodge sooner than later. at a lot less of a cost.

When you buy? it’s a little more of a bite in the rear. you end up in most cases losing money on the deal. depending on the market of course. maybe you luck out, and the housing in your neighborhood goes up. maybe not? you’ll most likely be asked why you are selling? everyone asks that question. and no one wants to say it’s because of the kook down the street.

Maybe everyone has a Boo Radley on their block. Maybe you are the Boo Radley on your block and you just don’t know it?

Sometimes even with the best game plan possible, you might miss something. Boo Radley’s can be quiet. only showing themselves on those rare instances.

Maybe? at first you won’t see them.

Perhaps? you will hear stories. your neighbors who have lived on the street on which you have moved will start to speak of them. there won’t be any eerie music accompaniment when you get your first sighting. the Boo Radley on my street is a woman. everyone seems to have a Boo Radley story that they like to tell. neighbors on all sides of her house. people who live one street over have a story.

I had been warned, to watch out. never under any circumstance turn my back on Boo. even for a second.

I should give you a visual description. this may be why some of the neighborhood is a little uncomfortable around her. I’m guessing about 45 years old? whisper thin, pale complexion,

Her eyes are the thing that concern me. She never seems to blink. in any staring contest? Boo would destroy the competition.

When she walks? she never moves her arms. that thousand yard stare has freaked out more than a couple of the kids in the neighborhood. no kid will walk on the sidewalk in front of her house anymore. you’ll see them ride their bikes or approach her house on foot. Right before they reach her property? they veer into the street. no one ever walks on the sidewalk in front of her house. except for me. seems a wee bit unusual doesn’t it?

What are they afraid of?

There have been stories of her standing in the windows of her house for hours on end just looking out the front window, never moving, just looking out of the window. when cars drive by, her eyes follow them, when people walk by, her eyes follow them.

The house she lives in is a brick ranch. no grass in the front yard. just some dirt and several large old trees. a late-model car is parked in her driveway. home security sign prominently displayed out front. and a “no trespassing” sign on her door.

I see a light on in the front window from time to time after dark. but for the most part at night? it looks like no one is home. the mailbox next to her front door is crammed full. I’ve watched our postman deliver her mail, hustling up to the door doing the quick step, he doesn’t linger on her property. I’m guessing it’s not his favorite stop?

I know of no laws for people being odd or creepy.

Does she have some quirk’s? some think so.

She’s a little of the anti-social variety. I listened to my neighbors warnings upon moving in. “Watch out she’s a handful.” “She hates kids.” “Be careful about offering to help her shovel her driveway during heavy snow falls.” “Stay off her property.” “Don’t park your car in front of her house.” “Do not try to chat her up.”

OK? So I should just let her do her own thing? Doesn’t sound too bad to me? Some people just want to be left alone.

You never know what traumas they may have had or continue to have in their life? Maybe they are dealing with an illness or suffer from social anxiety and need medication to level things off.

I can handle that. I’ve been told by friends at times, I’m no summer breeze myself.

Her name isn’t really Boo, I call her that in the small chance…that billion to one shot, she stumbles onto this story. I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and see her standing there looking in our windows with blood dripping from her teeth. clutching a squirrel with no head in her left hand and a holding a list of names with my name crossed out in her right!

My wife passed her house the day before the Fourth of July last year. one month after we moved in. Boo was outside watering her dirt. my bride smiled, waved and said, “Happy Fourth of July.” she turned towards my wife and muttered “F*#& the Fourth of July.” I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it or hear it. I do believe my wife’s account. she’s just not the type to make up stories like this. Perhaps Boo had a bad experience with fireworks on the fourth? maybe this is part of that social phobia thing she may have?

When my wife see’s her now? she’s polite, she will say hello, but that’s it.

Boo Hysteria was running rampant around our neighborhood. and I kept missing it.

The village in which I live, celebrated a founders day recently. This was to honor the very first residents who settled here many moons ago and were the first to call it their home. many of these founders have street’s in town named after them.

There was the usual small town celebration. pancake breakfast in the park. historical lectures and tour. an old fire truck was brought in to give rides to the local kids. the route of the fire truck went right down our street. the kids on board were between the ages of 5 -10. and kids being kids? when happy?  like to yell and scream a lot. apparently this did not please Boo Radley. by the 3rd or 4th trip? as the fire truck rounded the corner once more?

Boo appeared in her doorway. she came out of her house, walked down to the curb. most of the other neighbors were out in front of their homes waving at the screaming kids enjoying their ride. And the kids waved back. Boo did not wave. She extended both her arms and middle fingers. she didn’t shout at them, not a word passed from her lips.

I don’t think the kids on board knew what hit them? the residents out watching her sure did. but then? no one had the gumption to say anything to her. once the fire truck passed. she slowly turned around and went back into her house. closing the door. as calm as someone is when they go out to pick up their morning newspaper.

No one believed me when I shared the story at work. I’ve had more than one of my neighbors tell me that they witnessed it firsthand.

Still? I wasn’t so sure…..at first.

I’ve always liked to think everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. People are just too quick to judge others. just because someone behaves in a manner that is? Well? is a little odd to some. everyone is capable of a bad day. right?

Haven’t you ever done something you wish you hadn’t? that you later regretted? we all have a few skeletons in our closets. don’t we? C’mon now? tell the truth.

The more I heard the tales. The more I thought, Wow? it’s like the villagers in “Frankenstein” with their torches! wanting to storm the castle. wanting to destroy what they were afraid of, odds are, at least one or two in that crowd had to be thinking, “I don’t know? Hans? are we sure we want to burn down this guys house? I don’t even know him?”

I remember the day that my mind changed. The day Boo turned on me.

Walking home from work. I passed her house, As fate would have it, Boo had come outside to take her garbage to the curb for our weekly neighborhood pickup.

Having had a difficult day at the office, I wasn’t thinking clearly. my mind wandering on the days events as I passed her.

It just slipped out, accidentally. I swear! it was….an accident.

I said, “Hey Boo.” I just kept moving, until I heard behind me. “What the F*#% did you call me?”

Stopping in my tracks, I turned to face her, scrambling to recover. in my panic I couldn’t remember her real name? shit shit shit, What the hell is her name?

I broke into a Jackie Gleason “Hamana Hamana Hamana.”

She snapped. charging at me, was on me before I had time to react. I fell backwards. she pounced, Screaming. “I KNOOOOOO OOOOOH YOOOOO ARRR!”

You’re never supposed to hit a lady, right? of course not! Never under any circumstances. it wasn’t like she was trying to stab me in the leg with a pair of broken rusty scissors. So I just pushed her off. ran to our house. made it to the door. key in hand.

I don’t know if she chased after me? I got inside, slamming the door behind. looking out the peephole. nothing.

Then, I went around the house making sure all the doors and windows were locked up tight.

That night? I slept with one eye open.

I haven’t told anyone what happened that fall evening. Until now.

These Days? I try not to make eye contact with her. I walk in the street like the kids on the block. hoping she’s willing to let bygones be bygones.

Perhaps? I should have been a little more careful. I didn’t mean to call her Boo?

It just slipped out.

Everyone has a Boo Radley on their block.

Maybe you’re the Boo Radley on your block and you just don’t know it?

Maybe I’m the Boo Radley?

You never know who your neighbors are going to be.

We all roll the dice.