I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed this, but almost everything is "Shit-ly" nowadays. Leaf-ly, Marked-ly, whatever-ly....but why?
I don't think it makes me care about the product more. I thought it was really good with bit-ly. the name is short and makes you think of shortened links. the URL (bit.ly) makes sense. Why on god's green earth would I care about impressionly, or whatever-ly? I don't get it.
I feel this is similar to the iPod phenomenon. People see something do really, really well like the iPod, and then they see Apple line extend that idea to their other products. Because Apple is an army of wizards, they can line extend and not annihilate themselves from a PR standpoint. Other shitty companies try to follow suit and fail. That's dumb.
If I had to make a product or service (SaaS probably) that would end in "ly" today, I think it would be "Stop-ly" because people would laugh at the name. or maybe they wouldn't. I don't know. I still think it would be good.
What would the product do? I don't know. Maybe it would help people stop smoking. maybe it would help people stop any bad habits. and it could have a social piece as well. That would be coolish...ly
ho boy.
I was just on prodcthunt and I saw a new app called "Highly" that is an easy highlighter app for your iPhone. dude it's a dumb idea and a dumb name. My phone totally has a highlighting applet built into the firmware. Kindle has an incredible social highlighting system build into its app. No. Bigger and better companies have already done it. Nobody cares. Radda.
This person is relying entirely on the catchiness of the name to build an audience. I don't think this is how it should go. He didn't solve a problem, he didn't fill a need, he just built an app with a catchy name that sounds slightly weed-related and thinks he'll make money. The sad thing is that he might.
Solve problems people. Don't make them.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
7/19
I feel shitty today. I didn't ge tthe pay I wanted at my job, and my guest webinar has been cancelled. I haven't gotten any guest posts in months, and I need to write more content. That's where I stand.
so that's what I need to do. I need to find a topic for small business owners that will make sense to them, and I need to write a newsletter about it. I also want to make a video. so I need to do that tonight. Fuck.
I have finally realized that wen I feel bad, its because I need to write. I never in my life thought I would be a writer, but I apparnetly am. I haven't ever been a person who sat down and wrote until... well until I started to. It's crazy. I 've always liked visual art, I drew for years, I played guitar and piano for about a decade...andnow I'm writing. and it feels like my art. and I love it.
I think that i want to write a novel, but I'm afraid i'll waste time if I do. This is of course bullshit (resistance) because I should be spending my time writing a novel. I should be spending my time doing things that feel right. So maybe I will.
I'm happy that I found writing. I really enjoy it. I think that wha tI need to write about is finding your medium for marketing. I think a lot of people see "blogs" or "youtube channels" and forget that they're all doing the same thing: creating a marketing platform that people want to watch. That's what's i'mportant.
so that's what I need to do. I need to find a topic for small business owners that will make sense to them, and I need to write a newsletter about it. I also want to make a video. so I need to do that tonight. Fuck.
I have finally realized that wen I feel bad, its because I need to write. I never in my life thought I would be a writer, but I apparnetly am. I haven't ever been a person who sat down and wrote until... well until I started to. It's crazy. I 've always liked visual art, I drew for years, I played guitar and piano for about a decade...andnow I'm writing. and it feels like my art. and I love it.
I think that i want to write a novel, but I'm afraid i'll waste time if I do. This is of course bullshit (resistance) because I should be spending my time writing a novel. I should be spending my time doing things that feel right. So maybe I will.
I'm happy that I found writing. I really enjoy it. I think that wha tI need to write about is finding your medium for marketing. I think a lot of people see "blogs" or "youtube channels" and forget that they're all doing the same thing: creating a marketing platform that people want to watch. That's what's i'mportant.
Monday, July 18, 2016
7/18
I need to write a newsletter for my list. I don't know what I want ot write about. I thinki might write about cars instead and start a new company lol. no I don't know I'm actually thinking about it because I'm watching roadkill in the background, and It's not helping me get any ideas. They're working on a wheely-iing dump truck... I just want to finish my porsche and my Saab.
I" think that I need to write about will be fun, interesting, and will teach my list somehting new every week. I'm going to release this no Friday.
I think some of the things that I need to write will be about something that will have great content. I need to research something and get information about it, but I don't know what people are looking for.
That's what I'll do: I'll go dig around some forums and see what people are asking about. from there I'll get a better idea of what people want to learn. I tink that Small business and entrepreneur on reddit will be the best places to start. I'll do some permission marketing and answer some questions, and from there I'll know exatly what to write after we do that for the week.
WHOO!
The attic is almost ifnished too, which is awesome. That means that there will be an extra 500 sft in the house, and soon the garage will be usable as well. I'm building my custom door cards downstairs and they're coming a long really well also. I'm looking forward to having a really sick hotrod Porsche.
I" think that I need to write about will be fun, interesting, and will teach my list somehting new every week. I'm going to release this no Friday.
I think some of the things that I need to write will be about something that will have great content. I need to research something and get information about it, but I don't know what people are looking for.
That's what I'll do: I'll go dig around some forums and see what people are asking about. from there I'll get a better idea of what people want to learn. I tink that Small business and entrepreneur on reddit will be the best places to start. I'll do some permission marketing and answer some questions, and from there I'll know exatly what to write after we do that for the week.
WHOO!
The attic is almost ifnished too, which is awesome. That means that there will be an extra 500 sft in the house, and soon the garage will be usable as well. I'm building my custom door cards downstairs and they're coming a long really well also. I'm looking forward to having a really sick hotrod Porsche.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
5/1
May First, and I'm still slamming on my course here. I'm adding about 20 hours of video how-tos, and a ton of extras to the course as well now. I want it to be an incredible resource for small business owners.
It's funny: I've been listening to and reading a lot of books about authors as they "talk shop" and a lot of them talk about "having a book inside of them" and "needing to get it out" This part of my work feels like that. It's like a sickness: I have this course, and this business model inside of me, and I won't feel better until it's out of me, and working. I want this to work.
Meditation continues. I'm trying more advanced techniques like visualization, and it's really great to be able to force your brain to focus specifically on something while you're working. It does really pour over to real life. I would recommend anyone to give Headspace a try and get through the first 30 days. It will change the way you work and live.
Stanley is excited to move in here, and to go to college. He's coming up more weekends than not, now, really just to chill out. It's good for all of us, as his presence seems to make us all slow down a little bit, even Sophia. These weekends have been extremely mellow, which has been needed. Stef and I have both been working day in and day out on our businesses: Stef her Simple Spreadsheet business for multi-level marketers, and her bookkeeping business, me on my course, and building my brand. I'm still working for the time being as well, but requests for my services have come in on on a weekly basis now, so I'm fairly sure that even if I got fired tomorrow I could almost immediately replace my income with client work while I finished the course. It is a nice feeling.
I am starting to picture the course in its entirety in my mind, and I can see it being an incredible resource for people. I'm having Stef do each day with me, and I'm recording it, which I think adds a shit ton of value, as she has literally no experience in online marketing. Plus, it gives us a space of time to work on her business as well, and market it. She's getting leads, and also clients. She's excited. It'll be a lot of work.
We're not afraid of hard work, but I think after this we really need to slow down for a time. We've been ruthlessly building our careers/business for years now...really nonstop since the year before Sophia was born, and she's 4 now. We are exhausted and ready for our first Mini-retirement. I think we're going to do an RV trip around the four corners of north America. That's what I want to do. I think we may just...be for a few months at home, and then decide from there, though. However, it think it'll be hard to not work if we're just at home. I don't really know. I just want to focus on building our remote work lifestyles for now... we're closer than we ever have been.
Much work to be done, but we'll get there.
It's funny: I've been listening to and reading a lot of books about authors as they "talk shop" and a lot of them talk about "having a book inside of them" and "needing to get it out" This part of my work feels like that. It's like a sickness: I have this course, and this business model inside of me, and I won't feel better until it's out of me, and working. I want this to work.
Meditation continues. I'm trying more advanced techniques like visualization, and it's really great to be able to force your brain to focus specifically on something while you're working. It does really pour over to real life. I would recommend anyone to give Headspace a try and get through the first 30 days. It will change the way you work and live.
Stanley is excited to move in here, and to go to college. He's coming up more weekends than not, now, really just to chill out. It's good for all of us, as his presence seems to make us all slow down a little bit, even Sophia. These weekends have been extremely mellow, which has been needed. Stef and I have both been working day in and day out on our businesses: Stef her Simple Spreadsheet business for multi-level marketers, and her bookkeeping business, me on my course, and building my brand. I'm still working for the time being as well, but requests for my services have come in on on a weekly basis now, so I'm fairly sure that even if I got fired tomorrow I could almost immediately replace my income with client work while I finished the course. It is a nice feeling.
I am starting to picture the course in its entirety in my mind, and I can see it being an incredible resource for people. I'm having Stef do each day with me, and I'm recording it, which I think adds a shit ton of value, as she has literally no experience in online marketing. Plus, it gives us a space of time to work on her business as well, and market it. She's getting leads, and also clients. She's excited. It'll be a lot of work.
We're not afraid of hard work, but I think after this we really need to slow down for a time. We've been ruthlessly building our careers/business for years now...really nonstop since the year before Sophia was born, and she's 4 now. We are exhausted and ready for our first Mini-retirement. I think we're going to do an RV trip around the four corners of north America. That's what I want to do. I think we may just...be for a few months at home, and then decide from there, though. However, it think it'll be hard to not work if we're just at home. I don't really know. I just want to focus on building our remote work lifestyles for now... we're closer than we ever have been.
Much work to be done, but we'll get there.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
4/16
So stef is starting a business as well. she wants to do bbokkeeping, which I think is a great idea. however we got in a fight this morning when she was working on an email for the copmany, and asked for my help. I was not too amused as she told me my writing style sucked and that it was terrible. I get paid for this so I was pissed. I'm not sure if I'm going to offer my help anymore.
Second, I was planning on working all morning while she slept, and instead she calle dme upstairs at 7am and had me work on her email for 2 hours, and then threw a fit because it was "terrible" I spent the entire time explaining to her WHY the email is a different pitch than the craigslist ad (she had copy and pasted her craigslist ad into an email) and how someone on craigslist is actually LOOKING for a bookkeeper, and thus they're reading your ad, whereas an email is a "cold call" Emails like this should be treated as if you're knocking on someone's front door an interrupting dinner. That's the key statement I should ahve started with, it probably would have saved me an hour of bullshit.
woosah, that now over, I'm building a marketing plan for the course, and starting to setup the course structure on the website so that I can test the user experience on a few people, and probably give out some free courses for testimonials and such. I'm hoping to give out 5-10 freebies to some established companies with no websites and see how it works out for them. I'm still working on how to do this so that they're motivated to do the course, and do it well... perhaps I do actually still need to charge for it? maybe a 99$ price point with a mandatory testimonial at the end? not sure....
Anyway, I'm working on that stuff, and I'm also working on stef's business, which I think can also give her that freedom she's looking for. Jon Provost has already emailed some contacts he has and they're all very interested in referring people to the company, as they constantly get asked who to use for a bokkeeper and nobody knows of a good reliable one they can focus on. I told stef that for referrals like this, people love to "say" they'll give referrals but they never fucking do, so you need to write them an email script to use to get rid of the awkwardness. I'll be doing that as well.
I have been developing a marketing testing spreadsheet for my business as well, and I've been trying to get stef to do the same. Getting a marketing plan in place from day one ensures that you're either getting more business, or you're throwing away time wasting bullshit as soon as humanly possible, because you're testing everything. Email doesn't work? throw it out. Paper ad didn't work? throw it out. etcetc. I'm hoping to get her to that point soon... or I might just do it. I want to ensure her success so I think I'm going to have to take over the marketing in a wholesale manner, but still make it look like "her idea" from soup to nuts. oy vey.
Starsjas took sophia for a lseepover last night! so we went to bed at 930! hooray! It was nice since I get up at 6, so I'm also enjoying the silence now as there is no bouncing child running around the house making it more of a shitshow than it already is. The house is actually, completely clean for once.
I'm going to go write a new blog post now.
Second, I was planning on working all morning while she slept, and instead she calle dme upstairs at 7am and had me work on her email for 2 hours, and then threw a fit because it was "terrible" I spent the entire time explaining to her WHY the email is a different pitch than the craigslist ad (she had copy and pasted her craigslist ad into an email) and how someone on craigslist is actually LOOKING for a bookkeeper, and thus they're reading your ad, whereas an email is a "cold call" Emails like this should be treated as if you're knocking on someone's front door an interrupting dinner. That's the key statement I should ahve started with, it probably would have saved me an hour of bullshit.
woosah, that now over, I'm building a marketing plan for the course, and starting to setup the course structure on the website so that I can test the user experience on a few people, and probably give out some free courses for testimonials and such. I'm hoping to give out 5-10 freebies to some established companies with no websites and see how it works out for them. I'm still working on how to do this so that they're motivated to do the course, and do it well... perhaps I do actually still need to charge for it? maybe a 99$ price point with a mandatory testimonial at the end? not sure....
Anyway, I'm working on that stuff, and I'm also working on stef's business, which I think can also give her that freedom she's looking for. Jon Provost has already emailed some contacts he has and they're all very interested in referring people to the company, as they constantly get asked who to use for a bokkeeper and nobody knows of a good reliable one they can focus on. I told stef that for referrals like this, people love to "say" they'll give referrals but they never fucking do, so you need to write them an email script to use to get rid of the awkwardness. I'll be doing that as well.
I have been developing a marketing testing spreadsheet for my business as well, and I've been trying to get stef to do the same. Getting a marketing plan in place from day one ensures that you're either getting more business, or you're throwing away time wasting bullshit as soon as humanly possible, because you're testing everything. Email doesn't work? throw it out. Paper ad didn't work? throw it out. etcetc. I'm hoping to get her to that point soon... or I might just do it. I want to ensure her success so I think I'm going to have to take over the marketing in a wholesale manner, but still make it look like "her idea" from soup to nuts. oy vey.
Starsjas took sophia for a lseepover last night! so we went to bed at 930! hooray! It was nice since I get up at 6, so I'm also enjoying the silence now as there is no bouncing child running around the house making it more of a shitshow than it already is. The house is actually, completely clean for once.
I'm going to go write a new blog post now.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
4/12
As I said yesterday before I passed out, the course page tested successfully. I'm happy as hell about that. I'm also glad that I'm going to be able to move on to creation. Stef wants to help, which is a huge weight off my shoulders as I'm going to be able to pass off a lot of the detail work to her and expodite the course development. I'm hoping to launch the course sometime in Mid May, and see how it goes.
I also found my speed reading course I made years ago! and i sold like 5 copies of haha. I'm going to develop a quick and dirty sales page for that, revamp the course, and sell that for $100 bucks or so as well. now that I get how marketing works online this stuff seems a lot easier.
I need to sleep more, or rest more or something, though. I'm getting very tired toward the end of each week, and its hard for me to keep up with all the work I'm doing. Ideally I would find some more tasks to eliminate from my workflow, but I don't think I can eliminate much more. I've been meditationg for 23 days straight now, and that has been a huge help. the headspace app is wonderful. it's totally worth the $7 a month.
I'm hoping to start to sell this course in some larger capacity in June, and move onto larger marketing venues as well. I've already developed a basic marketing plan that looks as such:
Google PPC
Bing PPC
Yahoo PPC
Banner Ads on trade forums
Magazine Ads in Trade Magazines for Tradesmen and small business owners
Guest Posting and blogging on trade based sites.
Doing basic conversion math, If I can expose this idea to about 1.5 million people a month, it will convert into the number of sales I want to get. (about 30 a month) this is super rechable based on my testing, so I'm hoping that as i expand toward these other marketing venues that I'll actually see some real revenue growth.
Besides that: the house was filthy, now it is clean, and I am tired. Full Lesson plan and course outline work will start tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.
I also found my speed reading course I made years ago! and i sold like 5 copies of haha. I'm going to develop a quick and dirty sales page for that, revamp the course, and sell that for $100 bucks or so as well. now that I get how marketing works online this stuff seems a lot easier.
I need to sleep more, or rest more or something, though. I'm getting very tired toward the end of each week, and its hard for me to keep up with all the work I'm doing. Ideally I would find some more tasks to eliminate from my workflow, but I don't think I can eliminate much more. I've been meditationg for 23 days straight now, and that has been a huge help. the headspace app is wonderful. it's totally worth the $7 a month.
I'm hoping to start to sell this course in some larger capacity in June, and move onto larger marketing venues as well. I've already developed a basic marketing plan that looks as such:
Google PPC
Bing PPC
Yahoo PPC
Banner Ads on trade forums
Magazine Ads in Trade Magazines for Tradesmen and small business owners
Guest Posting and blogging on trade based sites.
Doing basic conversion math, If I can expose this idea to about 1.5 million people a month, it will convert into the number of sales I want to get. (about 30 a month) this is super rechable based on my testing, so I'm hoping that as i expand toward these other marketing venues that I'll actually see some real revenue growth.
Besides that: the house was filthy, now it is clean, and I am tired. Full Lesson plan and course outline work will start tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
4/6
Successful testing of course page on day one! lol. That is reassuring. I had a TERRIBLE scare when I setup my PPC campaign wrong and my CPC jumped from .18 to $4.50. I thought that I had gotten priced out of the campaign... but fortunately It was only because of the way Google indexed a single page on my site, so I fixed it and it went right back to the same price as before. So far the conversion rate on visitors is about 5%, which is....5 times higher than i expected. I'm hoping to continue to grow the email list, add some analytics to the sales page, and...just keep things like they are. I'll continue to tweak via A/B testing as I see what works and what doesn't.
Work is borring. I've gotten too good at my job. my boss now asks me for advice on how to do her job...which is never a good sign. Its just ridiculous at this point that they haven't hired me. I don't particularly care anyway as I'm just using it as a paycheck as I continue to build muse businesses. I think it's finally clicked: how to do things like this. I've been way too focused on the wrong things, and now that I'm catching on its really starting to take shape... I'm excited.
Ketogenic diet is going excellent. I've been on it for 3 fuul weeks now, and I'm starting my 4th. I've lost weight, I feel far less panicked, and I can.... I swear I can feel it doing great things for my liver. I feel like before I was very swollen in that area, and now it feels great.
I've been meditating almost every day, which feels amazing. I'm glad that I've added that back into my life as a constant now. Strangely enough, I still haven't really added exercise in the sense that I consider it back into my regimen. I'm really taking it easy on my body as it gets used to KEtosis, and then I'm going to add in small workouts to continually draw down glycogen as I get to that point. I think I'm close, but I have no desire to do so at the moment.
I have several other ideas for muse businesses as well, and I'm planning on testing all of them. However, if this first ont tests viably over the next 5 days then I'm going to go full steam ahead on developing the course and aim for the same May 1 launch date. I'm hoping to build a really good course and sell it pretty constantly for a long, long time.
Mom, its weird that you get these via email, but oh well. Enjoy. Love you.
Work is borring. I've gotten too good at my job. my boss now asks me for advice on how to do her job...which is never a good sign. Its just ridiculous at this point that they haven't hired me. I don't particularly care anyway as I'm just using it as a paycheck as I continue to build muse businesses. I think it's finally clicked: how to do things like this. I've been way too focused on the wrong things, and now that I'm catching on its really starting to take shape... I'm excited.
Ketogenic diet is going excellent. I've been on it for 3 fuul weeks now, and I'm starting my 4th. I've lost weight, I feel far less panicked, and I can.... I swear I can feel it doing great things for my liver. I feel like before I was very swollen in that area, and now it feels great.
I've been meditating almost every day, which feels amazing. I'm glad that I've added that back into my life as a constant now. Strangely enough, I still haven't really added exercise in the sense that I consider it back into my regimen. I'm really taking it easy on my body as it gets used to KEtosis, and then I'm going to add in small workouts to continually draw down glycogen as I get to that point. I think I'm close, but I have no desire to do so at the moment.
I have several other ideas for muse businesses as well, and I'm planning on testing all of them. However, if this first ont tests viably over the next 5 days then I'm going to go full steam ahead on developing the course and aim for the same May 1 launch date. I'm hoping to build a really good course and sell it pretty constantly for a long, long time.
Mom, its weird that you get these via email, but oh well. Enjoy. Love you.
Monday, April 4, 2016
4/4
Had a serious case of the Mondays. on the better side, I cleaned a good portion of the hosue, almost all clean, finished my suqeeze page (http://www.berkshireseo.com/30-day-online-marketing-and-seo-course/) and also had a great meditation session as well.
But snow. WTF snow. I am not a big fan of you currently. I can't believe that you didn't come all winter, and just as I put away my snow gear and my skis you finally vie me enough snow to ski on. I'm really over snow, I just want spring now. This is bullshit.
I'm glad I'm starting to get a little bit of a workflow back into this side...well this business again. However tonight I am tired. Much work. goodbye
But snow. WTF snow. I am not a big fan of you currently. I can't believe that you didn't come all winter, and just as I put away my snow gear and my skis you finally vie me enough snow to ski on. I'm really over snow, I just want spring now. This is bullshit.
I'm glad I'm starting to get a little bit of a workflow back into this side...well this business again. However tonight I am tired. Much work. goodbye
Sunday, April 3, 2016
4/3
Snow? Really? Snow? What the fuck.
I'm almost done with my squeeze page so that I can start testing. I've been meditating on the course, and on life in general. and I've realized that my focus should really just be as I said yesterday: to find a means to make cash that doesn't need to have me as a part of the process. I need to develop a course like this with large upfront time investment, so that 12-18 months form now when I have fully automated I can...do whatever I want.
I'm going to make sure that this course is one of the best courses you can get in online marketing. In looking at Neville's course yesterday and his copy for inspiration, I realized that many companies use his course to help teach their teams copy, and sales skills, especially email sales skills. I think that having a GOAL of making a course so good that SEO and online marketing companies use it for their entry level workers would be ideal. I could imagine a time where entry level for a company could be the course + some successful SEO work= new hire. Boom. That would be ideal.
I could probably pitch the course at a later date as a great initial training system for companies who are working at that level. A great goal.
ANYWAY. Right now this course is too niche for that and more specific. Currently its for companies that have like 1-5 employees, boss is probably working from home, and you have no idea where to start with online marketing, or how to break into your market. Maybe you've read the 4 hour work week and you're still trying to figure out exactly what to do, step by step. This is my goal.
Sophia is having a lot of fun playing Doc McStuffins right now. And its funny: she seems to really be getting a feel for what a doctor's day to day work is like. She's doing follow up appointment with us, measureing our height and weight, taking our temperature, and even making us bandages out of some thin foam that she found and has cut to size. It's really a lot of fun to see her experience a career like this, even at her very young age. It's amazing how quickly a 4 year old can catch on to exactly what a profession does at its most basic. I think all of us could learn something from watching a 4 year old pretend to do our jobs.
Keto is going incredibly well. I have no real desire for carbs or sugar. They were never really my favorite anyway, but I feel better, I've lost weight, and MY muscle mass has grown with minimal exercise. Also, I fele less frantic, less paniced, and much more calm (often a side effect of the diet) It's wonderful. I don't know if I'll ever go back to carbs. I mean cheese is fucking amazing...why would I stop this? lol
I'm also trying....key word trying...to get back into the gym. I go once a week or so and that's about it...just too much to do and too tired. I think I need to just kick my cicadian rhythm right in the grundel and start going at 530am and deal with it. I'll adjust. Now that Sophia's sleep schedule is much, MUCH more regular, I think it can actually be an option for me. I'd like to see my ideal physique before I turn 30. Kind of one of my bigger goals in life, really. I've looked good before, been pretty skinny, and had some muscle. But This last bulk I put on some good size, I've built up some good cardio, and I think with a decent cut and some well planned out time in the gym I could see myself looking real, real good...and hopefully keep it too!
Insofar as dream setting: I have meditated on it much, and I've realized that I really, really love to restore cars. I really loove fixing old cars, and then using new technology to make them...a more perfect vision of what the original creators envisioned. At least that's how I like to think of it. When I rebuild a car, I want it to be an example of "what if the designer built this car TODAY, with all available technology?" Sure I'll add my own touches, and such, but I want this to be the central theme. I also think that the theme of the "american hot rod" porsche to be super, super cool. However I want to modernize that a bit as well. I'm really planning on making the 944 into a turbo v8 that's tame on the street, but an awesome track car as well. I also want it to have air conditioning, heat, and a back seat so that goose and Stef can all come with me when we go on road trips. I've already heavily insulated the cabin so keep noise down, and I'm planning on also Adding a layer of insulating spray into the cabin as well: full insulation. This will make the interior super quiet, will make music sound great, and will make it feel like a modern car: my ultimate goal. I don't want it to feel rough or mean. I want ti to DRIVE rough and mean, but I want it to feel modern, and comfortable.
I've meditated, and imagined an ideal garage for me too. It will have a loft story where I can work like I am now, and It Will have a small gym up there as well. I want the garage floor to have a basic 2 post lift, and basically all the tools I already own...plus just a few more of minor expense. However I want it to be able to hold 4 cars: 2 of them will drive into a side door behind the house and stack up behind one another, basically for seaon storage, and then 2 cars will be able to drive into the front, for daily use. Since I plan on being working from home (or wherever) full time by the time I build this garage, Having my bay filled up with project car won't be that big of an issue: because if I want to go to the store, I'll ride my bike or walk!
That has been my biggest takeaway from the past few weeks of meditation and Keto: Slow down. Stop moving so fast and focus on goals. Always goals. Also: a clean house is much easier to work in. So I clean first, which is a huge, huge mind settler. So on the weekend I now meditate, clean, and THEN work. Sure I get a little distracted because sophia is in full goose mode, but It allows me to really think without having the nagging chore list in the back of my head. Plus, a clean house makes you feel like a winner. It's really important.
Well, the wife has graced me with her presence, and I will now proceed to talking with her, enjoying coffee, and finishing my copy for my squeeze page...onto full scale testing.
Wish me luck :)
I'm almost done with my squeeze page so that I can start testing. I've been meditating on the course, and on life in general. and I've realized that my focus should really just be as I said yesterday: to find a means to make cash that doesn't need to have me as a part of the process. I need to develop a course like this with large upfront time investment, so that 12-18 months form now when I have fully automated I can...do whatever I want.
I'm going to make sure that this course is one of the best courses you can get in online marketing. In looking at Neville's course yesterday and his copy for inspiration, I realized that many companies use his course to help teach their teams copy, and sales skills, especially email sales skills. I think that having a GOAL of making a course so good that SEO and online marketing companies use it for their entry level workers would be ideal. I could imagine a time where entry level for a company could be the course + some successful SEO work= new hire. Boom. That would be ideal.
I could probably pitch the course at a later date as a great initial training system for companies who are working at that level. A great goal.
ANYWAY. Right now this course is too niche for that and more specific. Currently its for companies that have like 1-5 employees, boss is probably working from home, and you have no idea where to start with online marketing, or how to break into your market. Maybe you've read the 4 hour work week and you're still trying to figure out exactly what to do, step by step. This is my goal.
Sophia is having a lot of fun playing Doc McStuffins right now. And its funny: she seems to really be getting a feel for what a doctor's day to day work is like. She's doing follow up appointment with us, measureing our height and weight, taking our temperature, and even making us bandages out of some thin foam that she found and has cut to size. It's really a lot of fun to see her experience a career like this, even at her very young age. It's amazing how quickly a 4 year old can catch on to exactly what a profession does at its most basic. I think all of us could learn something from watching a 4 year old pretend to do our jobs.
Keto is going incredibly well. I have no real desire for carbs or sugar. They were never really my favorite anyway, but I feel better, I've lost weight, and MY muscle mass has grown with minimal exercise. Also, I fele less frantic, less paniced, and much more calm (often a side effect of the diet) It's wonderful. I don't know if I'll ever go back to carbs. I mean cheese is fucking amazing...why would I stop this? lol
I'm also trying....key word trying...to get back into the gym. I go once a week or so and that's about it...just too much to do and too tired. I think I need to just kick my cicadian rhythm right in the grundel and start going at 530am and deal with it. I'll adjust. Now that Sophia's sleep schedule is much, MUCH more regular, I think it can actually be an option for me. I'd like to see my ideal physique before I turn 30. Kind of one of my bigger goals in life, really. I've looked good before, been pretty skinny, and had some muscle. But This last bulk I put on some good size, I've built up some good cardio, and I think with a decent cut and some well planned out time in the gym I could see myself looking real, real good...and hopefully keep it too!
Insofar as dream setting: I have meditated on it much, and I've realized that I really, really love to restore cars. I really loove fixing old cars, and then using new technology to make them...a more perfect vision of what the original creators envisioned. At least that's how I like to think of it. When I rebuild a car, I want it to be an example of "what if the designer built this car TODAY, with all available technology?" Sure I'll add my own touches, and such, but I want this to be the central theme. I also think that the theme of the "american hot rod" porsche to be super, super cool. However I want to modernize that a bit as well. I'm really planning on making the 944 into a turbo v8 that's tame on the street, but an awesome track car as well. I also want it to have air conditioning, heat, and a back seat so that goose and Stef can all come with me when we go on road trips. I've already heavily insulated the cabin so keep noise down, and I'm planning on also Adding a layer of insulating spray into the cabin as well: full insulation. This will make the interior super quiet, will make music sound great, and will make it feel like a modern car: my ultimate goal. I don't want it to feel rough or mean. I want ti to DRIVE rough and mean, but I want it to feel modern, and comfortable.
I've meditated, and imagined an ideal garage for me too. It will have a loft story where I can work like I am now, and It Will have a small gym up there as well. I want the garage floor to have a basic 2 post lift, and basically all the tools I already own...plus just a few more of minor expense. However I want it to be able to hold 4 cars: 2 of them will drive into a side door behind the house and stack up behind one another, basically for seaon storage, and then 2 cars will be able to drive into the front, for daily use. Since I plan on being working from home (or wherever) full time by the time I build this garage, Having my bay filled up with project car won't be that big of an issue: because if I want to go to the store, I'll ride my bike or walk!
That has been my biggest takeaway from the past few weeks of meditation and Keto: Slow down. Stop moving so fast and focus on goals. Always goals. Also: a clean house is much easier to work in. So I clean first, which is a huge, huge mind settler. So on the weekend I now meditate, clean, and THEN work. Sure I get a little distracted because sophia is in full goose mode, but It allows me to really think without having the nagging chore list in the back of my head. Plus, a clean house makes you feel like a winner. It's really important.
Well, the wife has graced me with her presence, and I will now proceed to talking with her, enjoying coffee, and finishing my copy for my squeeze page...onto full scale testing.
Wish me luck :)
Saturday, April 2, 2016
3/31
I'm super glad that I started going toward this cheaper course. I've abslutely found a really good
(This is where the internet died.FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU)
(This is where the internet died.FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU)
4/2
Back Again.
I've been trying to post these past few days but It has been nigh impossible as my internet at home has been down, which is my primary workspace. It's back up now, and thank God for that as I have so much I want to get done.
Sophia and Stef are out at a kit building workshop down the street, and will go for a weekend (or 2) after easter Easter Egg hunt in the rain. I applaud their tenacity. I'm going to be slogging along on this new muse I've discovered. I'm excited to build this course, and test the marketing and such. However I am slightly apprehensive. I'm concerned that It won't work. And I suppose that means that I need to remember what Tim wrote in his updated version of the Four Hour Work Week: Don't worry about what people think about you, unless they're people you want to emulate.
I want to emulate people like Tim, and other New Rich. That means I want to test my assumptions, and make sure that this will work before expending tons of effort on it. I have had a bad, BAD cae of w4w (Work for Work's sake) for like...the past year, and It's time to annihilate that assumption, and remember that all I'm trying to do is create a system that most efffectively puts money in my bank account. This business is NOT meant to be an ego booster, a dinner party conversation piece, or anything else of that matter. It's meant to generate cash for me and my family, and let us do what the fuck we want. That's it.
So now that I've spelt that out, I immediately feel better. I have reminded myself what I'm doing, at its core. I had really forgotten. In light of this being my only vocaiton for a year, and struggling with some serious anxiety, I had a serious issue with working effectiefly. My clients suffered, my family suffered, and I suffered. It wasn't the best. However I realize now that I was working in the wrong direction, trying to do something that would be "acceptable" at dinner conversations and such to state that I was working on (I'm a web consultant!) instead of the much better (I build cars for myself and money just comes to me, so fuck you) answer.
I'm looking forward to building this squeeze page today, SEOing the site toward these new keyword groups, and also doing a quick precursory edit on my SEO book as my leadin for email signups. I believe that I can be on the front page of Google for my keyword group in probably a few weeks to a month. I'm going to start writing content tomorrow for this purpose, and also SEOing and guest blogging all that I can.
I"m kind of pissed at Lance Tamashiro. Lol. He had me record a Podcast with him, and He has not made it live and its been the better part of 2 months now. I was really looking forward to getting that cross reference to my site to help build traffic, but It doesn't seem like its going to happen. I'm going to totally forget about it though. In the grand scheme of things, he is very, very small potatoes. I'm actively looking for other places to get my name out however, as I want to build my backlinks as much as humanly possible. For that reason, I think a new part of my daily practice needs to include a "10 blog post ideas" a day list that I write in my little notebooks. I need to have more ideas for content.
This weekend, I will do the above, then I will Record 2 learning videos tomorrow for the start of the course. My goal is to have the course be 30 days. This serves two purposes:
1. It will give the follow alongers lots of time to learn about SEO, and will set a reasonable pace for someone who knows nothing to build this infrastructure as they go along.
2. With a course of this length, the sale of supplementary or addon material will be a real option, and will also open the possibility for a dialogue with either me or my customer service team.
3. ( bonus lul) this will also open up the possibility for long term consulting or mentoring (fee based) If I want to generate capital hourly as well as passively in the future.
In all, I know what I need to do and I will now get to work. Love you all.
I've been trying to post these past few days but It has been nigh impossible as my internet at home has been down, which is my primary workspace. It's back up now, and thank God for that as I have so much I want to get done.
Sophia and Stef are out at a kit building workshop down the street, and will go for a weekend (or 2) after easter Easter Egg hunt in the rain. I applaud their tenacity. I'm going to be slogging along on this new muse I've discovered. I'm excited to build this course, and test the marketing and such. However I am slightly apprehensive. I'm concerned that It won't work. And I suppose that means that I need to remember what Tim wrote in his updated version of the Four Hour Work Week: Don't worry about what people think about you, unless they're people you want to emulate.
I want to emulate people like Tim, and other New Rich. That means I want to test my assumptions, and make sure that this will work before expending tons of effort on it. I have had a bad, BAD cae of w4w (Work for Work's sake) for like...the past year, and It's time to annihilate that assumption, and remember that all I'm trying to do is create a system that most efffectively puts money in my bank account. This business is NOT meant to be an ego booster, a dinner party conversation piece, or anything else of that matter. It's meant to generate cash for me and my family, and let us do what the fuck we want. That's it.
So now that I've spelt that out, I immediately feel better. I have reminded myself what I'm doing, at its core. I had really forgotten. In light of this being my only vocaiton for a year, and struggling with some serious anxiety, I had a serious issue with working effectiefly. My clients suffered, my family suffered, and I suffered. It wasn't the best. However I realize now that I was working in the wrong direction, trying to do something that would be "acceptable" at dinner conversations and such to state that I was working on (I'm a web consultant!) instead of the much better (I build cars for myself and money just comes to me, so fuck you) answer.
I'm looking forward to building this squeeze page today, SEOing the site toward these new keyword groups, and also doing a quick precursory edit on my SEO book as my leadin for email signups. I believe that I can be on the front page of Google for my keyword group in probably a few weeks to a month. I'm going to start writing content tomorrow for this purpose, and also SEOing and guest blogging all that I can.
I"m kind of pissed at Lance Tamashiro. Lol. He had me record a Podcast with him, and He has not made it live and its been the better part of 2 months now. I was really looking forward to getting that cross reference to my site to help build traffic, but It doesn't seem like its going to happen. I'm going to totally forget about it though. In the grand scheme of things, he is very, very small potatoes. I'm actively looking for other places to get my name out however, as I want to build my backlinks as much as humanly possible. For that reason, I think a new part of my daily practice needs to include a "10 blog post ideas" a day list that I write in my little notebooks. I need to have more ideas for content.
This weekend, I will do the above, then I will Record 2 learning videos tomorrow for the start of the course. My goal is to have the course be 30 days. This serves two purposes:
1. It will give the follow alongers lots of time to learn about SEO, and will set a reasonable pace for someone who knows nothing to build this infrastructure as they go along.
2. With a course of this length, the sale of supplementary or addon material will be a real option, and will also open the possibility for a dialogue with either me or my customer service team.
3. ( bonus lul) this will also open up the possibility for long term consulting or mentoring (fee based) If I want to generate capital hourly as well as passively in the future.
In all, I know what I need to do and I will now get to work. Love you all.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
3/29
Well, time to resurrect this page again. Hello nobody. I'm so glad to be here. I have, since the last posting here, created a standalone website and business called BerkshiresSEO. and It's... a thing. Right now its legitimately a side project I've put on hold to catch my breath. Because I'm working for another company right now! and because of that I have very, very little time. So I've only taken on a few clients, and then stopped asking them for more work, because It's simply been too exhausting. However, I think that I have learned enough about marketing from these clients I've had, plus the case studies I'm starting to work with (exciting!) that I know I'm ready to create my course.
BUUUUT. I started listening to the Four Hour Work Week before this...good ol Timmy Boy. And I remembered that.... I don't want to build a business. I want to build income so that I can live my life. I want to make something that stands on its own with a few hours a week of work from me, and let's me do what I want.
What do I want, though? Well, I did my 6 month goals if everything was amazing in my life (huge income, no debt, etc) and I realized that my goal if that was my TODAY, would be to build a garage, and work on my cars. I really, really like working on cars. On my own cars. I'm excited to try and build cars professionally for people. I think I would do that for a few months on my own, build a car that was my exact vision, and then show it around, and use that to kickstart my own restoration and modification shop that would also Tow (Matt lol) and would be a lot of fun to go into work at every day. I want to be able to take an afternoon off, or go on vacation whenever, But I also want it to be a working shop. Maybe I'm wrong... and maybe I just want to build cars when I want, and fix peoples cars when I want too... Just employ matt as a 24/7 tow guy lol. Let him keep the profits as long as he splits the Costs on the building with me.
and I know how I can get there in like a year. I realized that creating a super in depth, nuts and bolts course about online marketing would only apply to a superniche of people...the few that either want ot start their own consulting firm, or those who work for a high level one already. The nice is small, and It owuld take me years to build that kind of reputation and to create that content.
But why? So that I can start a multi level online marketing consultant company? Nah. So many services to manage, still technically employees...a 40 hour a week job with minimal payout unil many, many years down the road. So what about now?
I need to build a class for my TARGET MARKET. Small business owners, and online business owners who want more business. They want to to a to z how to do the top 5 things that will get them business. So I'll make a course that does just that and only costs $100 or so.
That will give me an easy price point, and an easy enough course to generate. I've already go tmost of the content just from making the base lesson plan for the larger course, So I can resure most of that. It could probably be put together in a week or two. Which I think will be my goal.
And the best part: I found some seriously low competition words in the online marketing for small business space, and I'm excited to start SEO writing for them to get myself a much larger list base. Doing the math, I could hit my target income to pay off all debt and be on the way to a resto shop in about 6-12 months if I write consistently and start pitching to guest blogs.
Essentially, I want to be able to make 8k/month from doing this, and I can do so by getting about 160k monthly site hits, whic Is totally doable with the keyword group I found. So I'm going to SEO it, use some PPC once sales come, and continue to share and guest post and cross promote until I hit my target income for a few months striaght. Then I'll quit: Just write monthly or so with some killer content, and see where I lie.
I'm going to try and negotiate full remote with my current company at that point, and Ig they say no I'll quit. Then I cna start building my garage.
TONIGHT: I need to go ahead and fix the UE and the meaning of my site a bit, so that It's informational, and people who are looking for my consulting services can also do that, but I'm not particularly offering at anymore. So yeah, here I go.
BUUUUT. I started listening to the Four Hour Work Week before this...good ol Timmy Boy. And I remembered that.... I don't want to build a business. I want to build income so that I can live my life. I want to make something that stands on its own with a few hours a week of work from me, and let's me do what I want.
What do I want, though? Well, I did my 6 month goals if everything was amazing in my life (huge income, no debt, etc) and I realized that my goal if that was my TODAY, would be to build a garage, and work on my cars. I really, really like working on cars. On my own cars. I'm excited to try and build cars professionally for people. I think I would do that for a few months on my own, build a car that was my exact vision, and then show it around, and use that to kickstart my own restoration and modification shop that would also Tow (Matt lol) and would be a lot of fun to go into work at every day. I want to be able to take an afternoon off, or go on vacation whenever, But I also want it to be a working shop. Maybe I'm wrong... and maybe I just want to build cars when I want, and fix peoples cars when I want too... Just employ matt as a 24/7 tow guy lol. Let him keep the profits as long as he splits the Costs on the building with me.
and I know how I can get there in like a year. I realized that creating a super in depth, nuts and bolts course about online marketing would only apply to a superniche of people...the few that either want ot start their own consulting firm, or those who work for a high level one already. The nice is small, and It owuld take me years to build that kind of reputation and to create that content.
But why? So that I can start a multi level online marketing consultant company? Nah. So many services to manage, still technically employees...a 40 hour a week job with minimal payout unil many, many years down the road. So what about now?
I need to build a class for my TARGET MARKET. Small business owners, and online business owners who want more business. They want to to a to z how to do the top 5 things that will get them business. So I'll make a course that does just that and only costs $100 or so.
That will give me an easy price point, and an easy enough course to generate. I've already go tmost of the content just from making the base lesson plan for the larger course, So I can resure most of that. It could probably be put together in a week or two. Which I think will be my goal.
And the best part: I found some seriously low competition words in the online marketing for small business space, and I'm excited to start SEO writing for them to get myself a much larger list base. Doing the math, I could hit my target income to pay off all debt and be on the way to a resto shop in about 6-12 months if I write consistently and start pitching to guest blogs.
Essentially, I want to be able to make 8k/month from doing this, and I can do so by getting about 160k monthly site hits, whic Is totally doable with the keyword group I found. So I'm going to SEO it, use some PPC once sales come, and continue to share and guest post and cross promote until I hit my target income for a few months striaght. Then I'll quit: Just write monthly or so with some killer content, and see where I lie.
I'm going to try and negotiate full remote with my current company at that point, and Ig they say no I'll quit. Then I cna start building my garage.
TONIGHT: I need to go ahead and fix the UE and the meaning of my site a bit, so that It's informational, and people who are looking for my consulting services can also do that, but I'm not particularly offering at anymore. So yeah, here I go.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
A New Site Will Be Launched in 10 days!
Good Afternoon all,
I will be moving this website over to bluehost in ten days to help upgrade the style of the site and also the usability. Please bare with me as we initiate the process over the next few days.
Thanks for your patience!
Charlie.
I will be moving this website over to bluehost in ten days to help upgrade the style of the site and also the usability. Please bare with me as we initiate the process over the next few days.
Thanks for your patience!
Charlie.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Firebird Part IV
I know where we can go" I repeated
as I trudged across the street, not paying much attention to whether
or not my mother was following me. I hunched down and got into the
Firebird and turned her over. The engine roared to life, still
happily warm from the long drive from Tennessee.
My mother stopped dead in the middle of the street. She recognized the car. I knew it from just an hour or so before. A single tear started to roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and stomped over to the passenger side of the car and hopped in.
She looked straight ahead "Let's go"
I slapped the car into gear and drove away, a bit of tire squeal coming off the pavement from the hot mid day sun. I drove straight out of town and onto the back roads. I was sure that if i kept driving out of town I would figure out where to go next. What to do with my mom. How we could run from her captors....my employer. I got the car into high gear on the highway, slipped over into the fast lane, and set the cruise control.
After about thirty minutes of silence, my mom looked over at me. " John" She said with a smile in her voice. "where are we going in my car?"
I looked her dead in the face. I nearly forgot about the road and had to slow down. "Your car?!" I exclaimed. "I woulds swore it was dad's"
"He told you?" she said, amused.
"No." I said, looking straight ahead, swerving between two semi's. "It was the first thing I divined..."
"Right before you met me?" She said, shifting in her seat to face me.
I let the silence sit for a minute, not sure what to say next. I accelerated to match the speed in the fast lane. "I just wanted to see what you looked like before...before I met you"
"oh honey" she whispered, touching the nape of my next with her palm. She held it there a while. "I'm so sorry"
I drove along the highway, heading west with not much more on the road than a few semi's and some station wagons loaded with kids and luggage. The A/C lulled us into silence for the next few miles. Finally my mom asked the questions I hadn't answered before.
"so where are we going honey"
"Don't rightly know at the moment" I said, shifting in my seat. "I'm hoping that my buddy Greg will be at his shop in Nebraska, but he's usually off up north this time of year, hunting at his Camp in Alaska. If he is there we can get a new set of wheels that they can't trace, some new identities maybe. I'm not sure"
"and how did you meet Greg, John?" She asked. looking me straight in the face."
From work.
"Well, he was the mechanic that they assigned me for that region of the country...But Greg and I have been friends for 10 years or more now. He's always looked out for me, helped me with my driving logs if they were off, kept my tickets off the books at the company. He's a good guy"
"we can't trust anyone associated with them. Are you insane?!"
"insane enough to drive cross country with a woman who is claiming to be my mother, and sent me a book on reading the future."
I downshifted and crossed 2 lanes of traffic to make the exit. "We're going to Greg, he'll know what to do"
About three hours later we arrived at Greg's shop. It was down a dirt road that only went to his shop, and was a good 10 miles away from the main road. I figured we'd either pull up there to a bunch of black SUV's ready to snatch us, or not a soul would be visible. Fortunately for us there wasn't a soul there.
The shop was a part of an old farming estate that got sold off. This portion used to be a large grass field that the previous owners used to pasture their cattle when they owned a few hundred more, and also to land small planes as it was flat, and the ground wasn't much good for anything except growing grass and landing planes. Right smack dab in the middle of the lot was a huge aircraft carrier, which was the location of Greg's shop. He had been working out of the building for the better part of 20 years, and had built up quite a clientele even though he was so far out in the sticks. He lived in an apartment he had built himself up above the hangar, inside the loft. He would either be home and we would have a chance, or we would be stranded out here, and the men in black would be here any moment to snatch us up.
"This is the place." I said, unbuckling and hopping out of the car.
"Greg?!" I hollered toward the hangar. "you com on out now ya hear?!"
I started to mosey on toward the hangar doors, and they started to slowly slide open as Greg hit the mechanical openers and the slow open from the center. I put my head down in thanks to the Lord as I walked toward the hangar doors. My mother didn't get out of the car.
"John, what in the hell are you doing" Said Greg, he didn't sound like his usual happy self.
"I can't have you here right now and you know it, the entire cavalry is out looking for you."
I looked over Greg's shoulder to his laptop on a picnic table behind him. thee on the screen was a flashing picture of me saying WANTED, right next to that was a picture of my mother with the same words.
"John, they're trying to get you listed as terrorists with the government. shit's gonna get real hot before it cools off, you need to leave the country. NOW."
I looked at the pictures. I knew my mother could see them flashing form the car seat, even if it was some 50 feet away. I pulled the old pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one up.
"Smoke?" I handed the pack to Greg.
"you know i don't do that shit, John."
"Yeah well me either, desperate times."
Greg took a cigarette and lit it. He coughed horribly from the first drag.
Greg was a short stocky guy, who had always been a hard working, nervous guy. He knew his way around most of the systems that I worked with, though, and always kept my nose clean. I had never seen him not in full denim, nor without grease all over him. He was constantly working on something. It wasn't always a customer's car either. He had build himself quite a few scratch built cars. Some made for off road, some for track racing. There were several race plaques hung up all over the hangar: showing first place trophies for many different types of races. Greg built his way to victory, and he was damn good at it. You could see the skill he had simply from the way he kept the hangar. Every tool had a specific place, every car sat in a spot that you knew was custom made around it. It looked like a museum exhibit, and a damn hard worked shop all at once.
Greg paced down the length of the shop once, took another drag, coughed, and duffed the cigarette out on the floor before picking it up and putting it in the trash. "Who smokes this bullshit?" he said under his breath. He walked back towards me as I laughed silently.
"John, I love you my man, but you gotta get the fuck out of here, you and that hot fuckin car of yours"
I looked over at the screen again, there on the screen, now cycling was a picture of us, and then a picture of the firebird.
"Well, looks like its time for you to do what you do best, Greg" I said with a smile, finishing my cigarette and putting it out in the gravel outside the hangar. "I'm gonna need the rat"
Greg looked at me like I had just insulted his mother, then he slowly smiled and nodded.
"No VIN, great off road....huge motor." He said as he walked toward a large pegboard that held all the keys. He snatched a huge Bowie knife off the pegboard that had a single short key on it. Scrawled down the blade of the knife it said RAT.
"We're gonna need to fill the reserve tanks if you want to make it to Mexico, though" he said, handing me the knife.
"We ain't going there." I said, grabbing the key from him. "Let's get them Jerry cans filled"
Monday, April 13, 2015
Firebird: Part III
The Firebird over revved as I took her around a corner a bit too
fast and stayed on the power to keep it pointed down the road. These
back roads had been paved just last year, so the trip was a good deal
faster on them when heading toward Alabama than the highway. This was
fortunate as I wasn't giving myself much time to make it to mom. The
summer sun was just coming up over the trees as I headed South to
Alabama. I was damn near triple the speed limit most times. Thank God
there were no cops to stop me.
I kept the car pretty well on line thanks to the new pavement they had put down all over the back road the year before. It was a great drive to be honest: the sun off to my right, clipping through the trees. My Car popping through the gears easily as I handled her through the turns and we sped toward Alabama. The GPS was almost completely silent: on this road, it was a straight shot to the cafe. It was like my mother knew. I suppose she probably did.
The morning sun kept clipping through the trees. I checked the dashboard clock and it read 6:30. It looks like I'll make it there in time even if I keep it under the limit. I hit a couple more turns at speed, and then slowed her down to a reasonable speed to keep the cops off my tail and the townsfolk happy. I cruised her the remaining hour into Alabama.
This was the first time I was able to think about my mother. I literally couldn't remember her face. I couldn't remember what she looked like, or how she wore her hair as before she left. There were no pictures in our house of her: dad said he couldn't bare it, and I never inherited any from him, except for one small one in his wallet, which was worn at the edges from sitting in his billfold for so long. It looked to be a picture from her senior high school picture. Didn't feel right keeping that. That picture was something between them, not something between us.
How would I recognize her? I had been spending so much of my life pretending to be this new man, that the boy I was was all but completely gone, along with his memories. I thought slowly about what she looked like when I was just a boy. Then I remembered the book:
"divining a memory is the most simple of beginning divination, and it is a great way to start your career as a diviner"
I pulled the car to the side of the road. The GPS blinked warnings at me that I would be late if I stayed at this position for more than 3 minutes. I rummaged through my bag, looking for anything that might be a tether to my mother. I had almost nothing from my old life. I looked through everything in the back seat: looking for an old toy, a belt buckle, anything. everything I touched was absolutely something new. No memory as old as that, and no memories of mine.
I grabbed the e brake to pull myself around in the seat. I held onto it as I wished that I could remember what she looked like, closing my eyes and tilting my head up toward the rising sun.
The next thing I felt was like being pulled toward the moon by a jumbo jet through my belly button. The rush was in intoxicating, but I could still feel my butt on the seat in the Firebird, I could feel the E brake still in my hand. In fact, I couldn't let go of the e brake if I tried. It was as if the E Brake handle was the thing creating this sensation. I flew until I felt the motion around me level out, and I opened my eyes, expecting a head rush from how little sleep I had gotten the past few days. Instead I opened my eyes and saw myself looking at my mother and father. They were young: younger than I had ever seen them, even as a boy. They were kissing. Kissing in a Firebird. Parked on this road. Their long, passionate kiss finally stopped, and I stopped looking away out of respect, and I got a good look at my mother for the first time.
She was short, with tight curls in her light blonde hair. She had eyes so big and blue you wondered how they stayed in her head. She had very slight features, and was a generally small person. My father was always a large guy, and seemed to be fully twice the size of my mother in every regard. They seemed to giggle over this fact as they cuddled eachother in the car, and snuggled down in some blankets in the front seat with the seats laid back to make a bed. Did they live in the car? Did they live in MY car? The car my father helped me rebuild? Is that why he got it for me?
The side thoughts snapped me back into the car, and the pain was incredible. It was like being fired from a cannon 100 feet above the ground and landing in a car seat. I leaned out of the side door of the car and vomited from the pain. I knew I couldn't pass out right now, so I took some good deep breaths and got to my feet. I rummaged around in the trunk for a small bottle of Jack I kept around in case I got in a wreck or a fight while out on the road and I needed to take the edge off. I took a large swig of it, and slowly walked back to the driver's seat, leaning on the side of the car the whole time, and hit the road again.
It was nearly time when I pulled up in front of the cafe we were meant to meet at. I looked at the large sign above, which was written out in pallet wood impact nailed across the brick front of the cafe:
THE CHOP SHOP
I looked through the big glass front of the cafe and just inside at the bar against the window there she sat. I saw her first and instantly knew it was her. The vision I had just a few minutes before had definitely helped. I slowly walked across the street, hands in my pockets, never taking my eyes off her. My legs still felt like I had ran a marathon, so the effort of just walking across the street made sweat well up in my face.
She caught sight of me and almost jumped out of her seat. She looked away again, after she was sure I had recognized her, and sipped her tea.
She still had that same blonde curly hair, although a bit more frizzy than what I had seen in my vision. There were smile lines across her forehead and at the corners of her eyes, indicating that she had been a laughter all her life, just like in the vision. Her eyes still seemed ungodly big for her face, but It just made her all the more expressive. It seemed as though she could have a whole conversation with you without opening her mouth. She could just use her big expressive eyes. She locked eyes with me again as I came to the sidewalk and looked over to the front door, indicating it was safe for me to come inside and sit next to her.
I leaned heavily against the doorjamb as I stepped up into the cafe. My mother looked at me and knew I had divined something and not disconnected properly. you could instantly see the concern on her face. Concern mixed with pride, and joy, and sadness, and so many other feelings a mother must get after seeing her son, grown, alive and well after so many years. After being out and free, ready to get a coffee with her son for the first time.
I ordered a large black coffee and walked over to sit next to my mother. I got up onto the stool with a sign, and looked straight out he window, waiting for her to speak. It wasn't my first time talking to someone without needing to have it noticed. this was the most common way I got my jobs given to me. My mom must have known that.
"Johnathan, I can see you attempted to divine something recently, and apparently didn't disconnect from the vision appropriately" She said with equal parts of scolding, loving, and cold fact.
She sipped her tea from a ceramic mug "how long ago"
I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the first taste of caffeine I had since I had woken up. "about an hour ago, little less."
She looked straight at me. I didn't look back as to not raise suspicion "what are you doing." I said, sipping my coffee again.
"Nobody recovers from a poor disconnect that quickly" she said, finally realizing what she had done and looking out the window, staying silent for a full minute before continuing " It usually takes three to five days before you can walk again."
"Well, I sure as hell feels like I should be in bed right now" I said with a cough. I sipped my coffee to relax the pain in my chest.
"This must be one of the reasons why men aren't allowed to divine...." she said trailing off "a man's strength allows them to flip in and out of visions more rapidly than women. I Imagine you could divine in real time, once you got used to the pain"
"that's a pain I don't want to ever get used to." I said looking out the window.
My mother did the same for a few minutes "I have missed you so much" She said, closing her eyes for a long time, trying to hold back the tears. "I'm so proud of what you've become Johnathan. So very proud"
She broke character after this point and looked straight at me. I could see the weakness in her face, she must have just divined the perimeter of the building to ensure we weren't being tailed. " I know that we've broken many laws, both magical and conventional to get here, but we need to. The company that we both work for has been looking for women like me to divine major political evens for personal profit. I have been able to give them just enough information to stop them from killing me, but its been very difficult. Most women can't withstand the pace at which they want us to work. They don't understand that divination takes a long time for both connection and disconnection, especially when divining someone whom you've never seen or spoken with before. Many women die from the pain of rapid disconnection, which they bring on after they get the information the receive. Sometimes by flashing a light in the room, other times with a bucket of cold water if the woman takes too long to disconnect herself.
I remembered the pain I was in from the one small vision of my mother: I couldn't imagine being forcibly removed from the vision time and again. They must have killed so many diviners....
"Johnathan, you need to help get me away from here, with the book. I'm the last one left. I've been able to keep myself alive for a year, long enough that they decided to reduce security since I was the only one left...." She sipped her tea and looked off into the distance.
"I suppose its not fair to say I'm the only diviner left alive, now there's you" She looked at me, not sure how to feel about her son being the first male diviner in ages.
"So what do we do now?" I said.
"I was hoping you could answer that" She aid with a giggle "I've made it this far, which is a good deal away from the facility I was held at. So let's get out of here and try and decide our next move.
I sipped my coffee again, looking out at the street. an old lady passed walking her dog. I thought about my mom getting old enough to do that.
"Alright, lets get out of here" I said, finishing my coffee.
" I know where we can go. "
To Be Continued
I kept the car pretty well on line thanks to the new pavement they had put down all over the back road the year before. It was a great drive to be honest: the sun off to my right, clipping through the trees. My Car popping through the gears easily as I handled her through the turns and we sped toward Alabama. The GPS was almost completely silent: on this road, it was a straight shot to the cafe. It was like my mother knew. I suppose she probably did.
The morning sun kept clipping through the trees. I checked the dashboard clock and it read 6:30. It looks like I'll make it there in time even if I keep it under the limit. I hit a couple more turns at speed, and then slowed her down to a reasonable speed to keep the cops off my tail and the townsfolk happy. I cruised her the remaining hour into Alabama.
This was the first time I was able to think about my mother. I literally couldn't remember her face. I couldn't remember what she looked like, or how she wore her hair as before she left. There were no pictures in our house of her: dad said he couldn't bare it, and I never inherited any from him, except for one small one in his wallet, which was worn at the edges from sitting in his billfold for so long. It looked to be a picture from her senior high school picture. Didn't feel right keeping that. That picture was something between them, not something between us.
How would I recognize her? I had been spending so much of my life pretending to be this new man, that the boy I was was all but completely gone, along with his memories. I thought slowly about what she looked like when I was just a boy. Then I remembered the book:
"divining a memory is the most simple of beginning divination, and it is a great way to start your career as a diviner"
I pulled the car to the side of the road. The GPS blinked warnings at me that I would be late if I stayed at this position for more than 3 minutes. I rummaged through my bag, looking for anything that might be a tether to my mother. I had almost nothing from my old life. I looked through everything in the back seat: looking for an old toy, a belt buckle, anything. everything I touched was absolutely something new. No memory as old as that, and no memories of mine.
I grabbed the e brake to pull myself around in the seat. I held onto it as I wished that I could remember what she looked like, closing my eyes and tilting my head up toward the rising sun.
The next thing I felt was like being pulled toward the moon by a jumbo jet through my belly button. The rush was in intoxicating, but I could still feel my butt on the seat in the Firebird, I could feel the E brake still in my hand. In fact, I couldn't let go of the e brake if I tried. It was as if the E Brake handle was the thing creating this sensation. I flew until I felt the motion around me level out, and I opened my eyes, expecting a head rush from how little sleep I had gotten the past few days. Instead I opened my eyes and saw myself looking at my mother and father. They were young: younger than I had ever seen them, even as a boy. They were kissing. Kissing in a Firebird. Parked on this road. Their long, passionate kiss finally stopped, and I stopped looking away out of respect, and I got a good look at my mother for the first time.
She was short, with tight curls in her light blonde hair. She had eyes so big and blue you wondered how they stayed in her head. She had very slight features, and was a generally small person. My father was always a large guy, and seemed to be fully twice the size of my mother in every regard. They seemed to giggle over this fact as they cuddled eachother in the car, and snuggled down in some blankets in the front seat with the seats laid back to make a bed. Did they live in the car? Did they live in MY car? The car my father helped me rebuild? Is that why he got it for me?
The side thoughts snapped me back into the car, and the pain was incredible. It was like being fired from a cannon 100 feet above the ground and landing in a car seat. I leaned out of the side door of the car and vomited from the pain. I knew I couldn't pass out right now, so I took some good deep breaths and got to my feet. I rummaged around in the trunk for a small bottle of Jack I kept around in case I got in a wreck or a fight while out on the road and I needed to take the edge off. I took a large swig of it, and slowly walked back to the driver's seat, leaning on the side of the car the whole time, and hit the road again.
It was nearly time when I pulled up in front of the cafe we were meant to meet at. I looked at the large sign above, which was written out in pallet wood impact nailed across the brick front of the cafe:
THE CHOP SHOP
I looked through the big glass front of the cafe and just inside at the bar against the window there she sat. I saw her first and instantly knew it was her. The vision I had just a few minutes before had definitely helped. I slowly walked across the street, hands in my pockets, never taking my eyes off her. My legs still felt like I had ran a marathon, so the effort of just walking across the street made sweat well up in my face.
She caught sight of me and almost jumped out of her seat. She looked away again, after she was sure I had recognized her, and sipped her tea.
She still had that same blonde curly hair, although a bit more frizzy than what I had seen in my vision. There were smile lines across her forehead and at the corners of her eyes, indicating that she had been a laughter all her life, just like in the vision. Her eyes still seemed ungodly big for her face, but It just made her all the more expressive. It seemed as though she could have a whole conversation with you without opening her mouth. She could just use her big expressive eyes. She locked eyes with me again as I came to the sidewalk and looked over to the front door, indicating it was safe for me to come inside and sit next to her.
I leaned heavily against the doorjamb as I stepped up into the cafe. My mother looked at me and knew I had divined something and not disconnected properly. you could instantly see the concern on her face. Concern mixed with pride, and joy, and sadness, and so many other feelings a mother must get after seeing her son, grown, alive and well after so many years. After being out and free, ready to get a coffee with her son for the first time.
I ordered a large black coffee and walked over to sit next to my mother. I got up onto the stool with a sign, and looked straight out he window, waiting for her to speak. It wasn't my first time talking to someone without needing to have it noticed. this was the most common way I got my jobs given to me. My mom must have known that.
"Johnathan, I can see you attempted to divine something recently, and apparently didn't disconnect from the vision appropriately" She said with equal parts of scolding, loving, and cold fact.
She sipped her tea from a ceramic mug "how long ago"
I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the first taste of caffeine I had since I had woken up. "about an hour ago, little less."
She looked straight at me. I didn't look back as to not raise suspicion "what are you doing." I said, sipping my coffee again.
"Nobody recovers from a poor disconnect that quickly" she said, finally realizing what she had done and looking out the window, staying silent for a full minute before continuing " It usually takes three to five days before you can walk again."
"Well, I sure as hell feels like I should be in bed right now" I said with a cough. I sipped my coffee to relax the pain in my chest.
"This must be one of the reasons why men aren't allowed to divine...." she said trailing off "a man's strength allows them to flip in and out of visions more rapidly than women. I Imagine you could divine in real time, once you got used to the pain"
"that's a pain I don't want to ever get used to." I said looking out the window.
My mother did the same for a few minutes "I have missed you so much" She said, closing her eyes for a long time, trying to hold back the tears. "I'm so proud of what you've become Johnathan. So very proud"
She broke character after this point and looked straight at me. I could see the weakness in her face, she must have just divined the perimeter of the building to ensure we weren't being tailed. " I know that we've broken many laws, both magical and conventional to get here, but we need to. The company that we both work for has been looking for women like me to divine major political evens for personal profit. I have been able to give them just enough information to stop them from killing me, but its been very difficult. Most women can't withstand the pace at which they want us to work. They don't understand that divination takes a long time for both connection and disconnection, especially when divining someone whom you've never seen or spoken with before. Many women die from the pain of rapid disconnection, which they bring on after they get the information the receive. Sometimes by flashing a light in the room, other times with a bucket of cold water if the woman takes too long to disconnect herself.
I remembered the pain I was in from the one small vision of my mother: I couldn't imagine being forcibly removed from the vision time and again. They must have killed so many diviners....
"Johnathan, you need to help get me away from here, with the book. I'm the last one left. I've been able to keep myself alive for a year, long enough that they decided to reduce security since I was the only one left...." She sipped her tea and looked off into the distance.
"I suppose its not fair to say I'm the only diviner left alive, now there's you" She looked at me, not sure how to feel about her son being the first male diviner in ages.
"So what do we do now?" I said.
"I was hoping you could answer that" She aid with a giggle "I've made it this far, which is a good deal away from the facility I was held at. So let's get out of here and try and decide our next move.
I sipped my coffee again, looking out at the street. an old lady passed walking her dog. I thought about my mom getting old enough to do that.
"Alright, lets get out of here" I said, finishing my coffee.
" I know where we can go. "
To Be Continued
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Firebird: Part II
I woke up the next morning on a cot in the garage that I left out
there for just such an occasion. I seldom slept in the house in the
summer as it got too hot, and I used the cot in the garage often as I
would always be working on the Firebird.
I stumbled over to the coffee maker and got it working. I slid the garage door open and looked outside at the early morning sun. The wind was lightly whipping through the trees as the birds chirped their good mornings to each other. Dew was still on the leaves and the grass. The yellow early morning sunlight was shining directly into the garage. I had intentionally built the garage with the door facing east so I could wake up like this all summer long.
The Book.
I had almost forgotten about it while working on the Firebird last night. The Note. The Chop Shop Cafe. Alabama.
I wasn't sure what to think. Should I trust this hocus pocus burning page that wrote to me? was it just some type of parlor tricks some kids down the street were playing on me? No way. Nobody knows that much about me. Shit, it had been so long I had nearly forgotten about all that. Took me a minute to remember my real name.
My real name. Nobody alive knows that name except her. It must be my mother. And she's in trouble. I need to help her.
If there's one thing my father never did, it was talk ill of mom. Whenever I asked he would say that she loved us very much, but she had to go away, and he missed her. I think he wasn't lying either. I think he didn't want to tell me what happened just for this reason as well.
I think he's rolling over in his grave if I'm working for the same sons of bitches that did this to us. to our family. To me.
I grabbed my coffee and stomped inside and threw open the book. No more notes. I read on from the first page.
The art and science of divination has been known to a select group of people for many years. It is based around the simple usage of certain objects (called Anchors) to affix certain points in time to certain outcomes. Utilization of these anchors, once created appropriately does not only allow you to foresee the future, but to alter it to your will as well.
I looked up from the book
"no way in hell"
I walked away and dug in the back of my closet to get a pack of cigarettes I kept hid. I lit one up and sat back down in front of the book.
"Creation of these Anchors, then, can of course cause massive changes in the future, and must therefore be used with extreme caution. As your Master has already told you, you must read this entire book before attempting any of these spells. Your master has entrusted this ability to you, and She will expect you to have read this book in its entirety before she teaches you any more. Be sure to meet with your Master directly after finishing reading this book, as it will become unreadable to you in three days time.
I see my mother hasn't given me much space to learn all this. The damn book must be 600 pages long.
"As a young woman starting out in Divination, first you must learn the nature of Anchors. Anchors will be something significant to the situation at hand. As you only practice Divination for the good of others, and not for personal gain, the Item you choose to make an Anchor from will need to be of emotional significance to the person whom you are working with.
Young Woman? Why do they only talk about girls in this book?
"The Anchor you use will determine the power that you have to Divine what you wish to see, or change. A seeing anchor can be far weaker than a Change Anchor. For instance, a Seeing Anchor can be something as simple as a T Shirt the person owns, whereas a change anchor will need to be something specific to the situation that they wish to change, and also something that is very significant to the person whom you are working with. It is your duty as a young diviner to appropriately select the correct Anchor For your client.
So this is why Mom can't get herself out, its against their code to Divine for themselves. She needs me to divine for her.
I turned the page.
WHY NO MAN MUST PRACTIVE DIVINATION
"Men are well known to possess no natural caring nature as women do. They also cannot control their urges to Divine for themselves. The last, great male diviner was Merlin, who worked directly for King Arthur and no one else. It has been recorded in the old texts that he himself was quoted in saying that women only should divine, and he was merely passing on the art to new woman apprentices as the art had become so injured during the dark ages with superstitions running so high. Never, under any circumstances teach a man to Divine, as the last men who were known to divine have caused massive turbulence in the flow of time, causing such tragedies as the Great World Wars, and the Holocaust.
I looked up from the book. I took a long drag from the Camel 100 I was smoking, and put the rest of it out on the metal side of my kitchen table, letting the ashes fall to the floor. Well, the book's open to me now, I can read it for 2 more days or so. Better finish it at least.
I sat in my garage for a day and a half, reading that book as fast as I could, taking notes, and making as much sense of the book as I could. Then, as I finished the last page, writing appeared on the second to last page.
"Noe that you have completed your reading, the book will be open to you as a reference. Simply speak your full, true name while having the book open to the second page, and you will have it available to you as a reference. only those who have had the sight passed down to them may do so. Practice you divination thoughtfully, and carefully as you grow into the new Order of Diving.
Good Luck.
The text in the book disappeared, and the red color seeped from the covers. The book looked as if it had been left in a dump, outside in the rain for years now. The leather became cracked and old, and the bindings looked incredibly weak, although the books till held together well enough. I was surprised the covers didn't disappear, Mom must've cut the covers off in an attempt to hide what she was mailing.
Mom.
I looked over to the Firebird. I had tuner her up well that first night the book came in, but now I had barely a half day to make it to Alabama. Looks like I'm taking the back roads.
I stumbled over to the coffee maker and got it working. I slid the garage door open and looked outside at the early morning sun. The wind was lightly whipping through the trees as the birds chirped their good mornings to each other. Dew was still on the leaves and the grass. The yellow early morning sunlight was shining directly into the garage. I had intentionally built the garage with the door facing east so I could wake up like this all summer long.
The Book.
I had almost forgotten about it while working on the Firebird last night. The Note. The Chop Shop Cafe. Alabama.
I wasn't sure what to think. Should I trust this hocus pocus burning page that wrote to me? was it just some type of parlor tricks some kids down the street were playing on me? No way. Nobody knows that much about me. Shit, it had been so long I had nearly forgotten about all that. Took me a minute to remember my real name.
My real name. Nobody alive knows that name except her. It must be my mother. And she's in trouble. I need to help her.
If there's one thing my father never did, it was talk ill of mom. Whenever I asked he would say that she loved us very much, but she had to go away, and he missed her. I think he wasn't lying either. I think he didn't want to tell me what happened just for this reason as well.
I think he's rolling over in his grave if I'm working for the same sons of bitches that did this to us. to our family. To me.
I grabbed my coffee and stomped inside and threw open the book. No more notes. I read on from the first page.
The art and science of divination has been known to a select group of people for many years. It is based around the simple usage of certain objects (called Anchors) to affix certain points in time to certain outcomes. Utilization of these anchors, once created appropriately does not only allow you to foresee the future, but to alter it to your will as well.
I looked up from the book
"no way in hell"
I walked away and dug in the back of my closet to get a pack of cigarettes I kept hid. I lit one up and sat back down in front of the book.
"Creation of these Anchors, then, can of course cause massive changes in the future, and must therefore be used with extreme caution. As your Master has already told you, you must read this entire book before attempting any of these spells. Your master has entrusted this ability to you, and She will expect you to have read this book in its entirety before she teaches you any more. Be sure to meet with your Master directly after finishing reading this book, as it will become unreadable to you in three days time.
I see my mother hasn't given me much space to learn all this. The damn book must be 600 pages long.
"As a young woman starting out in Divination, first you must learn the nature of Anchors. Anchors will be something significant to the situation at hand. As you only practice Divination for the good of others, and not for personal gain, the Item you choose to make an Anchor from will need to be of emotional significance to the person whom you are working with.
Young Woman? Why do they only talk about girls in this book?
"The Anchor you use will determine the power that you have to Divine what you wish to see, or change. A seeing anchor can be far weaker than a Change Anchor. For instance, a Seeing Anchor can be something as simple as a T Shirt the person owns, whereas a change anchor will need to be something specific to the situation that they wish to change, and also something that is very significant to the person whom you are working with. It is your duty as a young diviner to appropriately select the correct Anchor For your client.
So this is why Mom can't get herself out, its against their code to Divine for themselves. She needs me to divine for her.
I turned the page.
WHY NO MAN MUST PRACTIVE DIVINATION
"Men are well known to possess no natural caring nature as women do. They also cannot control their urges to Divine for themselves. The last, great male diviner was Merlin, who worked directly for King Arthur and no one else. It has been recorded in the old texts that he himself was quoted in saying that women only should divine, and he was merely passing on the art to new woman apprentices as the art had become so injured during the dark ages with superstitions running so high. Never, under any circumstances teach a man to Divine, as the last men who were known to divine have caused massive turbulence in the flow of time, causing such tragedies as the Great World Wars, and the Holocaust.
I looked up from the book. I took a long drag from the Camel 100 I was smoking, and put the rest of it out on the metal side of my kitchen table, letting the ashes fall to the floor. Well, the book's open to me now, I can read it for 2 more days or so. Better finish it at least.
I sat in my garage for a day and a half, reading that book as fast as I could, taking notes, and making as much sense of the book as I could. Then, as I finished the last page, writing appeared on the second to last page.
"Noe that you have completed your reading, the book will be open to you as a reference. Simply speak your full, true name while having the book open to the second page, and you will have it available to you as a reference. only those who have had the sight passed down to them may do so. Practice you divination thoughtfully, and carefully as you grow into the new Order of Diving.
Good Luck.
The text in the book disappeared, and the red color seeped from the covers. The book looked as if it had been left in a dump, outside in the rain for years now. The leather became cracked and old, and the bindings looked incredibly weak, although the books till held together well enough. I was surprised the covers didn't disappear, Mom must've cut the covers off in an attempt to hide what she was mailing.
Mom.
I looked over to the Firebird. I had tuner her up well that first night the book came in, but now I had barely a half day to make it to Alabama. Looks like I'm taking the back roads.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Firebird
The open road had always taken good care
of me. I had been into driving my entire life. It seemed like a great
way to escape. When my mom decided to leave me and my dad when i was
about 3, dad drove for 3 days. He said he was looking for mommy, but
now I know he just needed to drive. So we piled into his old diesel
pickup, and we rolled out on the vast Arizona roads and headed east
to the flatlands and just drove. Drove until the bank account got a
little less flush and we had enough for the couple of tanks of fuel
we needed to get home. I remember him filling up from gas cans for us
to make it back to the house.
This is my first memory.
My next memory is my dad selling the house for an ancient Peterbuilt Semi. He straight traded that old Ranch house in The outskirts of Phoenix for a 20 some odd year old Peterbuilt and started doing local jobs. We would sleep in the rank old sleeper area in the back at night. The door didn't lock so well, so he would hold it shut with his foot at night, sleeping with his arm under the pillow. I didn't figure out until years later that he had a colt revolver with a single FMJ loaded into her underneath that pillow. I would just stay up and play with my cars all night long. all of my cars.
I remember him receiving a call, patched through the CB while we were doing a big regional run. My dad insisted that I did school, so it interrupted the CB radio school lesson I was listening to while we were driving out to our destination. I heard the Arizona State Police get on, asking my dad something about a hidden room in the house we sold, and that he was technically still the owner as the Deed wasn't transferred appropriately. Something about Coming back to Arizona for questioning.
My dad disconnected the CB radio and told me with a big smile that school was all done for the day. I cheered and bounced into the back of the truck to play with my race cars.
My Dad finally saved up enough cash for us to buy a small trailer in Tennessee. Way up in the Blue Mountains. I grew up there, and fell in love with girls, and rode bikes, and had a Nintendo. Except for that First few years of my life, I grew up fairly Natural. Things were great. I got into cars at around 16, once I got my license, and started building an ancient Firebird that my Dad had dug out of the junkyard down the street as the motor spun free. My dad took a month off Hauling to get her running with me before my License Test. I passed the first try. In my New Firebird. I loved that car. I still drive her. She keeps me close with my dad, God rest his soul.
Nowadays, I still live in that trailer up in Tennessee, though I never stop home much. I do transport of a different kind. I've been running small, important packages back and forth across the country in a somewhat legal courier service for years now. I had built up a good clientele, and the folks I worked with trusted me well enough. Contraband never seemed to be drugs or anything of the like, least I never seemed to get attention like the drug runners would. We usually parked our cars to sleep in the same rest stops out in the middle of nowhere, so I knew that I was doing something a little different. But the pay was good, and it kept m on the road in the Firebird, so I never much worried about anything else.
Company I work for is a corporation called Applied Logistic Technologies LLC. They're a pretty large outfit, though nobody has ever heard of them. I got a pension, good benefits...hell, they even pay for my car repairs. I've gotten myself some damn good parts for the Firebird thanks to them. I even ended up building myself a damn nice garage out behind the trailer with the pay I get.
Then the other day I stopped back home to grab my mail and get any bills paid I might not have the last time I rolled on back to the homestead. I Pulled the Firebird into the garage, and pulled the steel door shut with a slam. As I walked bock over to the house to check the mail, I noticed that there was quite a substantial package in the mail box.
Inside of the mail box was the usual junk mail, a few bills I needed to pay, and a large manilla envelops that seemed overfull of papers. Was this some type of bullshit training booklet from work I needed to read? There was no return address, and there was a note card packing taped to the front with my Address. Nobody knows my address save for my boss.
Scrawled across the bottom, in marker, different from the pen used to write the address it said "OPEN IMMEDIATELY"
Not sure what it was about that package, but it made me feel uneasy. Not just the fact that nobody knew my address, but more like it was sent by somebody in trouble. The address seemed to be written hastily by someone who was in no place to send mail. The marker made it all the stranger. It looked like the same handwriting, but it was written seemingly at the post office, just before it was sent. The lettering was slightly smudged like it got rubbed against other mail after it was dropped din the box. The Envelope looked like it had been used about 50 times before, maybe to mail things, maybe just to hold this same pack of papers.
I set that package on my table, dealt with my other mail, and sat across the room from it, drinking beer staring at it for what felt like the entire night. I know it doesn't make a damn lick of sense, but it seemed like that package had something ominous about it, like it had a life of its own.
I finished my beer, and laughed at myself. What am I doing, being afraid of a damn package? I laughed out loud a bit, stood up, and went over to the package and cracked it open with my Bowie Knife, cutting it along the far edge near the top flap that was taped shut. I slid out the stack of paper.
It was a book, but the covers had been cut off. the spine was gone as well. Just the glue that held the pages together remained, some of it falling off in strings along the sides. The title page read "Applied Divination, Volume 1"
I laughed out loud "What a pile of horse shit" I said and went to the fridge to crack another beer and paw through this ridiculous package my secret admirer had apparently sent me.
I turned around to look at the title page again to have another laugh.
It read "SPEAK YOUR FULL NAME" In bold, block letters. directly below the title on the front page. It hadn't been there before. This was only my second beer, no way I missed that.
I stood there for a long time, looking at the words and finished about half my beer. I turned off the TV in the other room, and turned the lights down. I'm still not sure why, but It felt like what needed to happen. I sat down in front of the book.
"John Able"
nothing Happened.
I smiled and finished my beer. What a stupid book, must have had some time release ink on the front page to make it seem magic. I turned the front page and went to the next one.
"YOUR REAL NAME"
I stared at those words a long time. I felt my stomach drop. Nobody had ever expected I had another last name since I was about 4 years old. My dad had changed our names to Able right after that call from the AZ police.
I cracked another beer, and grabbed the Jack off the kitchen counter. I set them down on either side of the book, making it look like some kind of weird hillbilly shrine.
I took a swig of the Jack, and set it back down softly next to the book. I cleared my throat, Not sure why, I guess so the book can hear my real name well enough.
"John Arnow" I said under my breath.
I took a sip of my beer, not taking my eyes off of the book. Nothing happened.
I laughed at myself for believing in this kind of bullshit, even if just for a moment. I took another sip of my beer to get the burn from the Jack out of the back off my throat.
Then the covers of the book regrew. They seemed to just slide out of the nonexistent spine. They were blood red, and made of solid leather. There were brass rivets down the spine as it appeared. It looked like the book was one of those books rich folk put on their bookshelves as collector's items. On the spine, burned into the leather, and still warm to the touch it said in block letters "APPLIED DDIVINATION: VOLUME ONE"
After the book stopped shuffling on my table, it fell open to a page about halfway through the book, the pages were empty. Then they started writing like someone was drafting a letter to me somewhere else. The letters appeared in beautiful curling cursive which looks very similar to fine calligraphy.
Dear John,
I know this is hard to believe, but this is your mother writing to you. I know I've been gone your entire life, and I'm sorry, but I had to be. Hopefully we'll meet soon and I can explain everything to you. I don't know how long I can write to you so I'll be quick.
The company you work for is after you. They've already captured me, and I'm writing form their testing facility where the run tests to see If I have any type of magical power. I don't. I simply know how to use the sight, just like you can learn as well. this book is the book that taught me everything I know. The company hired you doing something that you're good at because they want to keep an eye on you. They make money using these magical powers to create military weapons. You have nothing to offer them, just like me. Now that my book is gone, I have only memory to work off of, and I'll quickly become a failed experiment. Hopefully I can escape. Hopefully they don’t realize that The book is what's missing. Hopefully we Can find each other. If you want to meet me, I will be at the Chop Shop Cafe in Addison, Alabama in three days time. Tear this page from the book before it starts to burn, the page mimics whatever I do to it, and I'm going to burn it now.
I love you.
There was no signature. The page started to burn slightly at the corner of the page, and I tore it from the book and threw it outside as fast as i could. I stood at my doorway and watched it slowly burn as I finished my beer.
I went inside and cracked another beer, and went out to the garage to work on the Firebird, and to think.
TO BE CONTINUED
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Werewolf.
I rode my bike everywhere. I had done it as long as I can
remember. Today, I was looking to get the package that my neighbor
had promised me with to someone's house a few towns over. It was up a
pretty big hill, and across a few larger highways, but I was sure I
could do it. I had ridden that far before, and my neighbor knew he
could trust me. I loved riding, and long rides were always better.
I grabbed the small package off of my front step. It was a small package: It looked like it could by a couple of coffee cups wrapped in a small towel. and that's about what it felt like too. It was completely covered in brown wrapping paper, and on the top of it in indelible marker it said "EDDIE" In bold, all caps letters. There was a not beside it.
"Cassie,
This package is very important, and must get to Eddie at his house in New Braytonville. You know where his house is, I've had you bring a few packaged to him before. Take your time, and whatever you do do NOT open the package.
I'll see you for lunch!
Grandpa"
No, he wasn't my Grandpa, but everyone in town called him grandpa, probably because he took care of near everyone who was younger than he was, and that was near everyone in town. He had lived there his entire life, and was that kind of guy who even though he was easily well into his eighties, he still shoved his own driveway, raked his own yard, and even went to the neighbor's house to help them after, too. You start to wonder if the work is keeping him young, or if he's just still so spy because of some inner determination. With Grandpa, you couldn't be sure. He didn't talk much about his younger years, and seemed to have just been this kind old man who lived in this town, and that's how it always was.
I grabbed the package, put it in my backpack, and threw my leg over my bike. The bike was an ancient 1980's Schwin road bike that I had picked up from the dump a few years ago. I always loved the old steel framed bikes, and so this one was perfect. It looked like the previous owner had never ridden it more than a few times: The paint was perfect. The gears all shifted smooth after I put on some new cables, and the brake pads were barely worn, although dry- rotted. I spent a good long weekend cleaning her up and she was just as quick and versatile as any of the newer road bikes I saw the Lawyer's rolling around on after work, struggling to get up hills.
I ripped down the road, toward Eddie's house. I had taken this trip a few times before, and I knew it was a long one so I had made myself a big sandwich for when I got there. The morning Sun was just high enough in the sky now to peek over the tall evergreens shadowing the road and put a nice warm glow on my face and arms. It was very refreshing after the long winter we had.
I turned the corner onto the main drag and continued until the turnoff for the mountain road came which would be the remainder of my trip. It was a 10 mile long dirt road that not many folks lived on. It was murder to modern car suspension thanks to the frost heaves in the winter and the ruts in the spring, but a bike had no problem dealing with it. I kept to the sides where the runoff from the snow melt didn't hurt the road as much and trotted right up the hill with a little bit of panting and heaving.
Then I saw it.
Two pairs of eyes out of the woods, accompanies by two large, dark shapes. Were they bears just coming out of hibernation? No, they were too fast to be bears, because by the time I turned my head to catch a better glimpse of what I had seen, they were completely gone. I looked again. I stopped my bike, and put a foot down keeping silent and listening. No leaves rustling from an animal running away. I looked slowly from left to right, looking for some sign of motion.
"Hello?"
No response came.
I started pedaling again, somewhat concerned about what may be out there. It was probably just a couple of hungry animals, looking for food after a long winter.
Then the smell came.
At first it was as if I had taken a very wrong turn out of the mountains and I was riding along the ocean, and it was just a few feet past the treeline. The smell of salt and dead fish and a little blood. Then that passed as a crested a hill. It was nearly noontime now. my concern about what was following me had made me ride a deal slower than I usually did.
Then I smelt it again.
this time there was no mistaking it. That was fresh, hot blood. And a lot of it. It must be everywhere. I could smell it coming from just around the next bend. I stopped my bike and went completely silent. Then I heard it. A gnawing, growling sound. It must be a wolf, or a feral dog eating its kill just on the other side of this bend. I grabbed my knife out of my backpack, and set my bike to the side of the road. I slowly and silently walked around the corner.
There was no mistaking it. I had read enough stories, and Grandpa had joked and told enough stories about them that I was sure it was a Werewolf. It had a stunted snout, and near human eyes, although right now they were glassed over, enjoying its fresh kill. at his feet were two full sized black bears, their necks town completely apart, by teeth and claw. the werewolf was so intoxicated by the blood and the food that he didn't even look up to see me.
I backed away still holding up my old fishing knife. my eyes were so fixed on that werewolf I couldn’t turn around. I eventually turned the corner of the road, and got to my bike. I picked it up from the ground, and as quietly as I could, mounted her to ride away and find another way to eddy's.
"Hey, Cassie!" Said a familiar voice behind me.
It was Eddie. He was covered in blood, and as naked as a newborn pup.
He Smiled "Can I please have my package now?"
I Screamed. Before I knew what was happening, Eddie was holding me, with his hand over my mouth. "Please don't scream, I don't want to have to end such a good friendship like this" His eyes glistened.
I let him slowly release me, and then took the package out off my pack, and dropped it on the ground. He stared at the package for a long time, not seemingly caring that he was naked, or covered in blood, or that the package was getting drenched by the spring thaw mud on the dirt road. Eventually he heaved a huge sigh, and picked up the package.
"Thank you" Said Eddie. and turned around, holding the package in one hand, limply by his side as he walked toward the shack he called his home.
I started to ride off.
"Oh, and Cassie!" he shouted back.
I stopped.
"Our little secret?" he asked, locking eyes with me. I couldn't help but think that his eyes looked as viscous as a wolf's in that moment.
I nodded, and rode home As fast as I could. Grandpa asked me if the package was delivered as he stopped by for our afternoon tea. I nodded, and refused to speak about the ride, or anything else.
"you saw him, didn't you" he asked. it didn't sound like a question.
"What do you mean? Eddie? Yeah of course I saw him" Trying to sound cool.
There was along silence. Grandpa sipped his tea and looked out the window.
"Eddie has been that way a long time. I make him medicine to help keep his urges at bay. I had feared I was going to be too late this time. This damn winter has made it so hard to.."
"YOU KNEW!" I stood up from the table. "YOU KNEW AND YOU SENT ME TO...to that MONSTER!?"
Grandpa kept eye contact with me, taking another sip of his tea.
"Of course I knew, that's a wizard's job." He stood up from the table. grabbing his coat and hat.
"oh no" I said "You're not leaving until I get some answers"
He threw a $100 bill on the table, and an old, leather bound book. "Take these" he said. "Read the book, and then come to me."
He shoved his hands in his pickets, jingling the change with his fingers.
"you're one of us now" he said, looking out the window, still jingling his coins. "I'm sorry it had to be this way"
I looked down at the book, and picked it up and tried to read the cover. It was in some strange language. As I continued to stare at it, though, the characters shifted, and changed into words I could understand.
"THE WEREWOLF: MALADIES AND TREATMENTS"
"The werewolf.... But Grandpa-"
He was gone.
I grabbed the small package off of my front step. It was a small package: It looked like it could by a couple of coffee cups wrapped in a small towel. and that's about what it felt like too. It was completely covered in brown wrapping paper, and on the top of it in indelible marker it said "EDDIE" In bold, all caps letters. There was a not beside it.
"Cassie,
This package is very important, and must get to Eddie at his house in New Braytonville. You know where his house is, I've had you bring a few packaged to him before. Take your time, and whatever you do do NOT open the package.
I'll see you for lunch!
Grandpa"
No, he wasn't my Grandpa, but everyone in town called him grandpa, probably because he took care of near everyone who was younger than he was, and that was near everyone in town. He had lived there his entire life, and was that kind of guy who even though he was easily well into his eighties, he still shoved his own driveway, raked his own yard, and even went to the neighbor's house to help them after, too. You start to wonder if the work is keeping him young, or if he's just still so spy because of some inner determination. With Grandpa, you couldn't be sure. He didn't talk much about his younger years, and seemed to have just been this kind old man who lived in this town, and that's how it always was.
I grabbed the package, put it in my backpack, and threw my leg over my bike. The bike was an ancient 1980's Schwin road bike that I had picked up from the dump a few years ago. I always loved the old steel framed bikes, and so this one was perfect. It looked like the previous owner had never ridden it more than a few times: The paint was perfect. The gears all shifted smooth after I put on some new cables, and the brake pads were barely worn, although dry- rotted. I spent a good long weekend cleaning her up and she was just as quick and versatile as any of the newer road bikes I saw the Lawyer's rolling around on after work, struggling to get up hills.
I ripped down the road, toward Eddie's house. I had taken this trip a few times before, and I knew it was a long one so I had made myself a big sandwich for when I got there. The morning Sun was just high enough in the sky now to peek over the tall evergreens shadowing the road and put a nice warm glow on my face and arms. It was very refreshing after the long winter we had.
I turned the corner onto the main drag and continued until the turnoff for the mountain road came which would be the remainder of my trip. It was a 10 mile long dirt road that not many folks lived on. It was murder to modern car suspension thanks to the frost heaves in the winter and the ruts in the spring, but a bike had no problem dealing with it. I kept to the sides where the runoff from the snow melt didn't hurt the road as much and trotted right up the hill with a little bit of panting and heaving.
Then I saw it.
Two pairs of eyes out of the woods, accompanies by two large, dark shapes. Were they bears just coming out of hibernation? No, they were too fast to be bears, because by the time I turned my head to catch a better glimpse of what I had seen, they were completely gone. I looked again. I stopped my bike, and put a foot down keeping silent and listening. No leaves rustling from an animal running away. I looked slowly from left to right, looking for some sign of motion.
"Hello?"
No response came.
I started pedaling again, somewhat concerned about what may be out there. It was probably just a couple of hungry animals, looking for food after a long winter.
Then the smell came.
At first it was as if I had taken a very wrong turn out of the mountains and I was riding along the ocean, and it was just a few feet past the treeline. The smell of salt and dead fish and a little blood. Then that passed as a crested a hill. It was nearly noontime now. my concern about what was following me had made me ride a deal slower than I usually did.
Then I smelt it again.
this time there was no mistaking it. That was fresh, hot blood. And a lot of it. It must be everywhere. I could smell it coming from just around the next bend. I stopped my bike and went completely silent. Then I heard it. A gnawing, growling sound. It must be a wolf, or a feral dog eating its kill just on the other side of this bend. I grabbed my knife out of my backpack, and set my bike to the side of the road. I slowly and silently walked around the corner.
There was no mistaking it. I had read enough stories, and Grandpa had joked and told enough stories about them that I was sure it was a Werewolf. It had a stunted snout, and near human eyes, although right now they were glassed over, enjoying its fresh kill. at his feet were two full sized black bears, their necks town completely apart, by teeth and claw. the werewolf was so intoxicated by the blood and the food that he didn't even look up to see me.
I backed away still holding up my old fishing knife. my eyes were so fixed on that werewolf I couldn’t turn around. I eventually turned the corner of the road, and got to my bike. I picked it up from the ground, and as quietly as I could, mounted her to ride away and find another way to eddy's.
"Hey, Cassie!" Said a familiar voice behind me.
It was Eddie. He was covered in blood, and as naked as a newborn pup.
He Smiled "Can I please have my package now?"
I Screamed. Before I knew what was happening, Eddie was holding me, with his hand over my mouth. "Please don't scream, I don't want to have to end such a good friendship like this" His eyes glistened.
I let him slowly release me, and then took the package out off my pack, and dropped it on the ground. He stared at the package for a long time, not seemingly caring that he was naked, or covered in blood, or that the package was getting drenched by the spring thaw mud on the dirt road. Eventually he heaved a huge sigh, and picked up the package.
"Thank you" Said Eddie. and turned around, holding the package in one hand, limply by his side as he walked toward the shack he called his home.
I started to ride off.
"Oh, and Cassie!" he shouted back.
I stopped.
"Our little secret?" he asked, locking eyes with me. I couldn't help but think that his eyes looked as viscous as a wolf's in that moment.
I nodded, and rode home As fast as I could. Grandpa asked me if the package was delivered as he stopped by for our afternoon tea. I nodded, and refused to speak about the ride, or anything else.
"you saw him, didn't you" he asked. it didn't sound like a question.
"What do you mean? Eddie? Yeah of course I saw him" Trying to sound cool.
There was along silence. Grandpa sipped his tea and looked out the window.
"Eddie has been that way a long time. I make him medicine to help keep his urges at bay. I had feared I was going to be too late this time. This damn winter has made it so hard to.."
"YOU KNEW!" I stood up from the table. "YOU KNEW AND YOU SENT ME TO...to that MONSTER!?"
Grandpa kept eye contact with me, taking another sip of his tea.
"Of course I knew, that's a wizard's job." He stood up from the table. grabbing his coat and hat.
"oh no" I said "You're not leaving until I get some answers"
He threw a $100 bill on the table, and an old, leather bound book. "Take these" he said. "Read the book, and then come to me."
He shoved his hands in his pickets, jingling the change with his fingers.
"you're one of us now" he said, looking out the window, still jingling his coins. "I'm sorry it had to be this way"
I looked down at the book, and picked it up and tried to read the cover. It was in some strange language. As I continued to stare at it, though, the characters shifted, and changed into words I could understand.
"THE WEREWOLF: MALADIES AND TREATMENTS"
"The werewolf.... But Grandpa-"
He was gone.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
The Bar.
There was a small bar a few blocks into the darker part of town that I always liked to go to. I lived on the upper east side, but the bars over there always seemed to be full of people still putting on airs. Too many fake people. Not enough reality. Sure, there was your good amount of bar fights, and the beer was warm, the food was cold, but the people were real. And sometimes that what you pay your hard earned money for.
I had lived in the city for some fifteen years now. It was a big, crazy place that I hadn't ever quite wrapped my head around. But It seemed to me that the best place for someone to get lost was in a big mess of people. Someplace like the city. It had seemed to work.
Sure, I had my friends. There was Barry, who worked on the upper east side as a janitor for one of the big apartment complexes for actors and stock brokers and the like. He and I would head over to the Old bar across the tracks at least a few nights a week. It was our special bit of enjoyment: to see real people acting out their lives in a real way. No more prada glasses and coach bags and people keeping up with their neighbors for no god forsaken reason. We were both tired of that bullshit, we saw it all day long at work.
Me? I work as an accountant for a stock brokerage on Wall Street. Its damn hard work, and I'm there late many nights, but it pays well, and with the money I'm saving I'll be able to move away in a few years. Go buy myself a cabin in the woods somewhere else. Or a bungalow on an island somewhere. Something a little more slow paced. I could never understand folks who thought of the city as a destination, as a place to retire and grow old. Maybe that's just me.
So Barry and I went on into our favorite bar on the west side. We ordered two buds with no intention of drinking the skunked garbage they called beer, but with the intention of paying patronage to a small section of the city that seemed to have folks that were still alive. Still here and thinking about their lives and their families and their friends, and not just about themselves. The bar was seemingly out of business when you looked at it from the outside: the lights were barely bright enough to see your hand in front of your face. There was no music playing, and the ancient jukebox in the corner was unplugged, with a huge hole in the speaker on the front of it from a fight long ago. The bar was cracked, although cleaned meticulously by the old lady that must either own the bar or just have worked there so long she had started to purchase stock in the company. Come to think of it, she was the only person who ever seemed to work there.
The front door was always shut tight, no matter how hot or cold it was inside the building. There was no air conditioning, and the heat didn't seem to work so well, either. In the winter, you could see your breath until there were ten or so folks in the small room, and then it would start to warm up.
As you looked around the walls as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you recognized that there wasn't your normal bar wall decor here. There were strange pieces of taxidermy on the walls: animals merged together in strange ways: The head of a raccoon on the body of a dog. A deer's head cnnected to a platypus were the two strangest ones. The thing that made them even stranger is that whoever bothered to make em had spent a damn long time making the eyes on them look near perfect. You would swear these things were alive. Some nights you could swear you could cath them moving out of the corner of your eye.
There were a number of old books on bookshelves as well. a large, long collection of them. All leather bound, and all in languages that nobody there seemed to understand. They were put in odd places around the bar. Some on a high shelft behind the counter, thers stacked in a corner and made into a tabletop for folks to sit at. There was also a number of walking sticks hung around the room as well, but each one seemed to have some type of marks ground into it. Not by whittleing, or even with a dremel or something, but it seemed as though someone had burned the symbols into each one in a violent, quick manner.
Barry and I got there late one Friday night, ready to enjoy relaxing in our favorite spot. The lady behind the bar scoweled at us and said nothing.
"Two buds please"
She slid them across the counter and instantly went back to ignoring us, watching her recorded soap operas on the Tv across the room from her. People were already in here talking. There was a couple in the corner who seemingly were just passing through, and knew they had come to a place they weren't ready for yet. They finished their beers quickly and left. Everyone else were regualrs: Two guys who worked the docks nearby were here and still smelled of the ocean and of pneumatic oil. Three old ladies that always came and ordered tea were chatting at the bar, the old lady behind the bar would join in from time to time. And there was one other man here. He was in a dark suit, and was extremely tall. He was the only man in the room on his cell phone. He was talking to someone, seemingly about business as he looked about the room.
He had only been there five minutes before the old lady's loud bark from behind the bar came to reach his ears.
"Ey, " She bellowed " We don't allow phones in 'ere"
The man stood up, and placed the phone on the table without finishing the phone conversation.
"Ma'am, I would like to buy your bar"
"Ain't fer sale"
"I'm willing to pay any amount you like, name your price."
She looked him in the eye, hers gleaming, and repeated herself exactly "Ain't fer sale"
The bar went silent as they locked eyes with eachother for a long time.
The man picked up his phone again to continue the conversation, ignoring the old woman.
She snapped her fingers, and the man looked down at his phone. everyone in the bar could see that the battery had died.
"No Phones" she said. eyes gleaming.
The man looked down at his phone and laughed. It seemed that that was exactly what he had been looking for. He pulleed out his checkbook.
"The Bar ain't for sale!" Barked the old woman. the two shoremen in the corner stood up and made their way toward the man in the suit, the old lady held up her hand to tell them to stop. They did.
"Now ma'am," Said the man in the suit." I'm sure we can come to an understanding, I'm willing to pay any-"
"It Ain't for sale, now get outta my bar before I throw you out" She coughed the last word violently. It seemed to shake the walls of the building itself. the glasses on the wall rang slightly.
The man in the suit smiled. He looked around for a long moment, now at the perfect center of the bar. with a flash the man pulled something from the inside of his suit coat and pointed it at the old woman. before I could make out what it was, the old woman had one of the staff's from the walls in her hand, and the man in the suit had dissappeared completely. It wasn't so much that the staff had made him dissappear, or that he had evaporated, more that he was never there at all. Everyone looked around for him, and noticed he was gone. Nobody said a word. The two men in the corner who had stood up slowly sat back down, and went back to their beers and their conversation as if nothing had happened. The old woman shuffled slowly over to the wall, and put the staff back in its rightful place. She slowly sat down.
The room was quiet as she caught her breath.
"Everyone out" she gasped eventually. "we're closed" She looked extremely sad. The ladies sipping tea in the corner helped to pick up glasses slowly, and shooed us out of the bar.
A few weeks later we decided to venture back to our bar. The door was locked. We looked inside the windows, and the room was empty. No strange taxidermy, no walking sticks on the walls, no nothing. There was construction gear in there, and it was seemingly getting turned into a fitness studio. There was no sign of the old lady anywhere.
Barry and I will never really understand what happened in that bar thatvnight. but we learned one thing for sure. There's some type of magic in this world, and some of its bad, and some of its good. I have no idea what kind of magic the old lady had, or the man in the suit. But one of them won that day. I'm still not sure which one.
I had lived in the city for some fifteen years now. It was a big, crazy place that I hadn't ever quite wrapped my head around. But It seemed to me that the best place for someone to get lost was in a big mess of people. Someplace like the city. It had seemed to work.
Sure, I had my friends. There was Barry, who worked on the upper east side as a janitor for one of the big apartment complexes for actors and stock brokers and the like. He and I would head over to the Old bar across the tracks at least a few nights a week. It was our special bit of enjoyment: to see real people acting out their lives in a real way. No more prada glasses and coach bags and people keeping up with their neighbors for no god forsaken reason. We were both tired of that bullshit, we saw it all day long at work.
Me? I work as an accountant for a stock brokerage on Wall Street. Its damn hard work, and I'm there late many nights, but it pays well, and with the money I'm saving I'll be able to move away in a few years. Go buy myself a cabin in the woods somewhere else. Or a bungalow on an island somewhere. Something a little more slow paced. I could never understand folks who thought of the city as a destination, as a place to retire and grow old. Maybe that's just me.
So Barry and I went on into our favorite bar on the west side. We ordered two buds with no intention of drinking the skunked garbage they called beer, but with the intention of paying patronage to a small section of the city that seemed to have folks that were still alive. Still here and thinking about their lives and their families and their friends, and not just about themselves. The bar was seemingly out of business when you looked at it from the outside: the lights were barely bright enough to see your hand in front of your face. There was no music playing, and the ancient jukebox in the corner was unplugged, with a huge hole in the speaker on the front of it from a fight long ago. The bar was cracked, although cleaned meticulously by the old lady that must either own the bar or just have worked there so long she had started to purchase stock in the company. Come to think of it, she was the only person who ever seemed to work there.
The front door was always shut tight, no matter how hot or cold it was inside the building. There was no air conditioning, and the heat didn't seem to work so well, either. In the winter, you could see your breath until there were ten or so folks in the small room, and then it would start to warm up.
As you looked around the walls as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you recognized that there wasn't your normal bar wall decor here. There were strange pieces of taxidermy on the walls: animals merged together in strange ways: The head of a raccoon on the body of a dog. A deer's head cnnected to a platypus were the two strangest ones. The thing that made them even stranger is that whoever bothered to make em had spent a damn long time making the eyes on them look near perfect. You would swear these things were alive. Some nights you could swear you could cath them moving out of the corner of your eye.
There were a number of old books on bookshelves as well. a large, long collection of them. All leather bound, and all in languages that nobody there seemed to understand. They were put in odd places around the bar. Some on a high shelft behind the counter, thers stacked in a corner and made into a tabletop for folks to sit at. There was also a number of walking sticks hung around the room as well, but each one seemed to have some type of marks ground into it. Not by whittleing, or even with a dremel or something, but it seemed as though someone had burned the symbols into each one in a violent, quick manner.
Barry and I got there late one Friday night, ready to enjoy relaxing in our favorite spot. The lady behind the bar scoweled at us and said nothing.
"Two buds please"
She slid them across the counter and instantly went back to ignoring us, watching her recorded soap operas on the Tv across the room from her. People were already in here talking. There was a couple in the corner who seemingly were just passing through, and knew they had come to a place they weren't ready for yet. They finished their beers quickly and left. Everyone else were regualrs: Two guys who worked the docks nearby were here and still smelled of the ocean and of pneumatic oil. Three old ladies that always came and ordered tea were chatting at the bar, the old lady behind the bar would join in from time to time. And there was one other man here. He was in a dark suit, and was extremely tall. He was the only man in the room on his cell phone. He was talking to someone, seemingly about business as he looked about the room.
He had only been there five minutes before the old lady's loud bark from behind the bar came to reach his ears.
"Ey, " She bellowed " We don't allow phones in 'ere"
The man stood up, and placed the phone on the table without finishing the phone conversation.
"Ma'am, I would like to buy your bar"
"Ain't fer sale"
"I'm willing to pay any amount you like, name your price."
She looked him in the eye, hers gleaming, and repeated herself exactly "Ain't fer sale"
The bar went silent as they locked eyes with eachother for a long time.
The man picked up his phone again to continue the conversation, ignoring the old woman.
She snapped her fingers, and the man looked down at his phone. everyone in the bar could see that the battery had died.
"No Phones" she said. eyes gleaming.
The man looked down at his phone and laughed. It seemed that that was exactly what he had been looking for. He pulleed out his checkbook.
"The Bar ain't for sale!" Barked the old woman. the two shoremen in the corner stood up and made their way toward the man in the suit, the old lady held up her hand to tell them to stop. They did.
"Now ma'am," Said the man in the suit." I'm sure we can come to an understanding, I'm willing to pay any-"
"It Ain't for sale, now get outta my bar before I throw you out" She coughed the last word violently. It seemed to shake the walls of the building itself. the glasses on the wall rang slightly.
The man in the suit smiled. He looked around for a long moment, now at the perfect center of the bar. with a flash the man pulled something from the inside of his suit coat and pointed it at the old woman. before I could make out what it was, the old woman had one of the staff's from the walls in her hand, and the man in the suit had dissappeared completely. It wasn't so much that the staff had made him dissappear, or that he had evaporated, more that he was never there at all. Everyone looked around for him, and noticed he was gone. Nobody said a word. The two men in the corner who had stood up slowly sat back down, and went back to their beers and their conversation as if nothing had happened. The old woman shuffled slowly over to the wall, and put the staff back in its rightful place. She slowly sat down.
The room was quiet as she caught her breath.
"Everyone out" she gasped eventually. "we're closed" She looked extremely sad. The ladies sipping tea in the corner helped to pick up glasses slowly, and shooed us out of the bar.
A few weeks later we decided to venture back to our bar. The door was locked. We looked inside the windows, and the room was empty. No strange taxidermy, no walking sticks on the walls, no nothing. There was construction gear in there, and it was seemingly getting turned into a fitness studio. There was no sign of the old lady anywhere.
Barry and I will never really understand what happened in that bar thatvnight. but we learned one thing for sure. There's some type of magic in this world, and some of its bad, and some of its good. I have no idea what kind of magic the old lady had, or the man in the suit. But one of them won that day. I'm still not sure which one.
Monday, March 23, 2015
Wolfman
The Snow was deep and fluffy, making it hard to get through. The large field ahead of him was almost untouched: It looked like a sea of perfect white snow. something from another planet. Where no life had ever existed, and where nobody had ever set foot before.
He stepped through the deep, fluffy substance, sometimes bounding through it to attempt to speed up but it never seemed to work. Eventually he was able to find a plce where the wind was a bit colder, and the snow had frozen and hardened. This allowed him to walk ontop of the massive heaves of snow and move forward at a regular pace, trotting along, looking about him. The wind whipped at his face, as he looked for a suitable place to hunt for the day.
As he reached the far side of the clearing it was nearly mid day, and the mid winter sun was high in the sky, but much farther away than he would hope for. This had been a long winter, and a difficult one when you live in the woods alone. He was hoping to find a rabbit that had lost its bearings, or maybe even a small raccoon. Something that would feed him for a few days so he could set up a small camp, and rest, feel human for a few nights, maybe even cook the meat this time. The last time he tried to set up camp the bears had come, and he had to scamper off into the forest as the laid waste to everything he had set up for the day, losing out on some very nice meat he had caught himself. It seems that even the bears are thrown off kilter by this unnatural-long winter, he thought as he started to sniff the air, hoping for the scent of a weak or tired animal somewhere in the distance.
None came.
He looked about himself. He wanted to find some old tracks that had been covered by the snow drifts, or maybe some recently broken twigs at about critter-height. He looked and looked and finally found himself a small path that had been created by what seemed to be a family of woodchucks. It looked as if they were staying the a thicket of evergreens just up ahead. He would need to wait them out until one of them moved to understand where they were living. Hunting like this was much easier in packs, but He had been alone like this for years, not quite accepted by anyone, and always alone. Always by himself.
Mid-day passed into late afternoon, and he waited, half buried in a nearby snowbank, and sitting perfectly still. Ever watching, hoping to see the woodchucks come up from their small path, looking for food. Finally, just as the sun started to set, the Male stuck his head out form the ticket, and sniffed the air. He instantly caught his scent, as the wind changed and betrayed his existence to the woodchuck. He sprung up from his hiding place, growling violently, and grabbed the woodchuk by the nect before the realization that he was there even had time to reach his brain. He would eat well tonight.
He carried the woodchuck happily off into the woods, finding a place where snow hadn't fallen much thanks to the thick treecover. Here he would be able to set up camp, just like he had many times before. Hopefully the bears will stay away this time.
He looked up at the sky, and saw that it was a full moon. He laughed to himself slightly, and decided he would sleep as he was tonight. he could worry about all that in the morning. and with that he ripped the woodchuck open with his mouth, and ate ravenously. When he was done, he howled at the still full moon, in celebration of his kill, and almost as a cliche to the day had he had had, and curled up on the warm bed of leaves beneath him to sleep.
The next morning came, and he knew it was time. He stood up on his hind legs, gripping a tree for stability. He slowly closed his eyes. He knew he would need all of his energy for the change. Sinking his claws into the tree bark, he grunted and moaned in agony as the off white fur on his back receded into his skin, as his claws slowly faded away and turned into human hands, as his knees changed direction, and snapped into regular, human form. The process took some 25 minutes to complete. It may have been longer-- the cold sometimes made it worse, but he wasn't so worried about that as he was about having the strength to make it to town as a man now. Today was the day he got to see his daughter, and it was her birthday.
He had been like this his entire life: Born into a small family who lived in the woods and lived off the land, even in a time where so few folks decided to live that kind of life. He remembered his father being off and gone for weeks at a time, and always asking his mother where he had gone. Then without warning he would bust through the door, exhausted, and with a fresh kill with him. Sometimes a squirrell or a raccoon, sometimes a bear. They always ate well: mother was an incredible farmer, and father had an eye for the hunt. He never saw him change, though. Mother didn't have the power.
As he got older, and started to recognize girls, his anger would change him. at first it would just be fangs in his mouth that would cut his jaw. Then he learned to change fully, to become a wolf. to become what his father had given him. He believe it was a great treasure, a gift. His ex wife, Melissa, did not agree. she had left him soon after she found out.
None of that mattered today. He dug up his clothes he had hidden in a plastic bag underneath this tree, and got himself dressed. He checked for his wallet, and opened it. An ID, a credit card that had long ago been maxed out, and $25 in cash. That should be enough, once I sell this woodchuck hide, he thought. he ran off toward the town, buttoning his shirt as he went.
although he preferred to be a wolf these days, he was a very handsome human man. He knew this, and it made his life all the harder, as he had no desire to be a part of this world, save for his daughter. He was tall, and slender. Some men said he was unnaturally tall as he stood at nearly 6 and a half feet tall. He shoulders were broad, and he had always had a hard time finding clothes that fit, especially at the goodwill stores he was usually forced to shop at. He had a tight, curly beard that gripped his face, seemingly holding in the ferocious virility that his face showed. He remembered when he grew his beard. He remembered he was 14. He knew she would need him soon. She was turning 14 today. The changes would come soon.
He found his truck at the edge of the woods: an ancient diesel ford with more rust than body, but it ran soundly thanks to an old family friend who knew these trucks better than himself. He would park the truck at the edge of the woods here often and leave the keys in it. Today it bore a note:
Hey,
Fixed the timing chain and gave her a tune up. You owe me some Venison!
Jim
He smiled to himself, and stuffed the note in his pocket. He would be hunting overtime this winter.
He fired up the truck. The engine sputtered to life, and he went to pick up his daughter. She was waiting by herself at the general store, their regular spot as dictated by the court. Her mother was nowhere to be found. She jumped into the truck.
"Hey sweetheart!" He said, he noticed there were tears in here eyes. "What's the matter?" he said, truly concerned. She was always so happy.
she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Daddy, I changed last night, and it was really scary" She broke down at the edge of the sentence.
He held her for what seemed forever. eventually she calmed down. The heat on the truck was just starting to kick in. They relaxed in each others embrace for a few more minutes. The he let her go and looked her straight in the eye.
"Its all OK dear, we knew this day would come." He wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Did your mother see?"
She shook her head.
"Good" He said, pausing, and looking out the window. Memories from their marriage came flooding back. He kept staring out the window. "Good"
"Now lets go hunt"
He threw the truck into gear and the sped off toward the forest. They woodchuck pelt was forgotten about, the money was forgotten about. Her birthday was forgotten about, but not for her. This was the gift she had been waiting for 14 years to enjoy. A real day with her father, in his truest form, and she in hers.
He stepped through the deep, fluffy substance, sometimes bounding through it to attempt to speed up but it never seemed to work. Eventually he was able to find a plce where the wind was a bit colder, and the snow had frozen and hardened. This allowed him to walk ontop of the massive heaves of snow and move forward at a regular pace, trotting along, looking about him. The wind whipped at his face, as he looked for a suitable place to hunt for the day.
As he reached the far side of the clearing it was nearly mid day, and the mid winter sun was high in the sky, but much farther away than he would hope for. This had been a long winter, and a difficult one when you live in the woods alone. He was hoping to find a rabbit that had lost its bearings, or maybe even a small raccoon. Something that would feed him for a few days so he could set up a small camp, and rest, feel human for a few nights, maybe even cook the meat this time. The last time he tried to set up camp the bears had come, and he had to scamper off into the forest as the laid waste to everything he had set up for the day, losing out on some very nice meat he had caught himself. It seems that even the bears are thrown off kilter by this unnatural-long winter, he thought as he started to sniff the air, hoping for the scent of a weak or tired animal somewhere in the distance.
None came.
He looked about himself. He wanted to find some old tracks that had been covered by the snow drifts, or maybe some recently broken twigs at about critter-height. He looked and looked and finally found himself a small path that had been created by what seemed to be a family of woodchucks. It looked as if they were staying the a thicket of evergreens just up ahead. He would need to wait them out until one of them moved to understand where they were living. Hunting like this was much easier in packs, but He had been alone like this for years, not quite accepted by anyone, and always alone. Always by himself.
Mid-day passed into late afternoon, and he waited, half buried in a nearby snowbank, and sitting perfectly still. Ever watching, hoping to see the woodchucks come up from their small path, looking for food. Finally, just as the sun started to set, the Male stuck his head out form the ticket, and sniffed the air. He instantly caught his scent, as the wind changed and betrayed his existence to the woodchuck. He sprung up from his hiding place, growling violently, and grabbed the woodchuk by the nect before the realization that he was there even had time to reach his brain. He would eat well tonight.
He carried the woodchuck happily off into the woods, finding a place where snow hadn't fallen much thanks to the thick treecover. Here he would be able to set up camp, just like he had many times before. Hopefully the bears will stay away this time.
He looked up at the sky, and saw that it was a full moon. He laughed to himself slightly, and decided he would sleep as he was tonight. he could worry about all that in the morning. and with that he ripped the woodchuck open with his mouth, and ate ravenously. When he was done, he howled at the still full moon, in celebration of his kill, and almost as a cliche to the day had he had had, and curled up on the warm bed of leaves beneath him to sleep.
The next morning came, and he knew it was time. He stood up on his hind legs, gripping a tree for stability. He slowly closed his eyes. He knew he would need all of his energy for the change. Sinking his claws into the tree bark, he grunted and moaned in agony as the off white fur on his back receded into his skin, as his claws slowly faded away and turned into human hands, as his knees changed direction, and snapped into regular, human form. The process took some 25 minutes to complete. It may have been longer-- the cold sometimes made it worse, but he wasn't so worried about that as he was about having the strength to make it to town as a man now. Today was the day he got to see his daughter, and it was her birthday.
He had been like this his entire life: Born into a small family who lived in the woods and lived off the land, even in a time where so few folks decided to live that kind of life. He remembered his father being off and gone for weeks at a time, and always asking his mother where he had gone. Then without warning he would bust through the door, exhausted, and with a fresh kill with him. Sometimes a squirrell or a raccoon, sometimes a bear. They always ate well: mother was an incredible farmer, and father had an eye for the hunt. He never saw him change, though. Mother didn't have the power.
As he got older, and started to recognize girls, his anger would change him. at first it would just be fangs in his mouth that would cut his jaw. Then he learned to change fully, to become a wolf. to become what his father had given him. He believe it was a great treasure, a gift. His ex wife, Melissa, did not agree. she had left him soon after she found out.
None of that mattered today. He dug up his clothes he had hidden in a plastic bag underneath this tree, and got himself dressed. He checked for his wallet, and opened it. An ID, a credit card that had long ago been maxed out, and $25 in cash. That should be enough, once I sell this woodchuck hide, he thought. he ran off toward the town, buttoning his shirt as he went.
although he preferred to be a wolf these days, he was a very handsome human man. He knew this, and it made his life all the harder, as he had no desire to be a part of this world, save for his daughter. He was tall, and slender. Some men said he was unnaturally tall as he stood at nearly 6 and a half feet tall. He shoulders were broad, and he had always had a hard time finding clothes that fit, especially at the goodwill stores he was usually forced to shop at. He had a tight, curly beard that gripped his face, seemingly holding in the ferocious virility that his face showed. He remembered when he grew his beard. He remembered he was 14. He knew she would need him soon. She was turning 14 today. The changes would come soon.
He found his truck at the edge of the woods: an ancient diesel ford with more rust than body, but it ran soundly thanks to an old family friend who knew these trucks better than himself. He would park the truck at the edge of the woods here often and leave the keys in it. Today it bore a note:
Hey,
Fixed the timing chain and gave her a tune up. You owe me some Venison!
Jim
He smiled to himself, and stuffed the note in his pocket. He would be hunting overtime this winter.
He fired up the truck. The engine sputtered to life, and he went to pick up his daughter. She was waiting by herself at the general store, their regular spot as dictated by the court. Her mother was nowhere to be found. She jumped into the truck.
"Hey sweetheart!" He said, he noticed there were tears in here eyes. "What's the matter?" he said, truly concerned. She was always so happy.
she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Daddy, I changed last night, and it was really scary" She broke down at the edge of the sentence.
He held her for what seemed forever. eventually she calmed down. The heat on the truck was just starting to kick in. They relaxed in each others embrace for a few more minutes. The he let her go and looked her straight in the eye.
"Its all OK dear, we knew this day would come." He wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Did your mother see?"
She shook her head.
"Good" He said, pausing, and looking out the window. Memories from their marriage came flooding back. He kept staring out the window. "Good"
"Now lets go hunt"
He threw the truck into gear and the sped off toward the forest. They woodchuck pelt was forgotten about, the money was forgotten about. Her birthday was forgotten about, but not for her. This was the gift she had been waiting for 14 years to enjoy. A real day with her father, in his truest form, and she in hers.
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