From Whom Are You Hiding? (A Short, Short Story)

(As many of my standard readers know, I use this blog to bring humor and reality to the masses 99% of the time.  However, there are times that a story creeps out of me that I share here.  These are generally stories of fiction, mystery and fantasy.  I publish them if for no other reason than to allow me the pleasure of expressing myself in a different manner.  This is one of those stories.  I hope you'll enjoy it!)

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Driving in the rain is seldom fun.  Slick roads, vision impaired by streaky wiper blades, and the glare of oncoming headlights reflecting on a wet windshield lessen the odds of reaching one's destination safely.  Still, there is a peace that hides in the madness of the journey.  

My urges had been sated for a while.  The bastards that had killed my daughter were long gone.  I'd seen to that.  But, I'd found many more just as evil that needed removal.  If I could remove the pain of a parent seeing their child wasted away by those that supplied perverted kiddie porn pleasures then I had to continue.  I couldn't rest until they were all dead.

One was in the trunk awaiting disposal.

As I rounded a bend, I barely saw her walking in the darkness.  Her blue jean jacket and pants, darkened by the rain that drenched them, did nothing to enhance her visibility.  Only her blond hair, soaked as it was, provided a hint that the figure along the roadside was human.  

Normally, I wouldn't stop for hitchhikers.  Years ago, during my teenage years, I'd stopped for a fellow hippie.  After taking him as far as I was going, he'd refused to get out of my car, insisting that I take him further.  His eyes, the yellowed whites mixed with brown lines, accented his heroin addiction.  Although young and naive, I still felt myself to be in possible danger.  After it was over, I have never been afraid since.  It is a story I will tell another time.  I use it only as a reference to my common behavior and dread of hitchhikers.

Pulling my car over to the side of the road, I awaited her to open the door.  The seconds felt like minutes felt like hours.  I turned to see her standing outside her door, awaiting on me to open it for her.  "Weird chick" I thought as I reached for the handle to let her in.  

She entered with the elegance of Grace Kelly, gently sitting down on the seat without the car so much as moving under her weight.  Closing the door, she turned, looked me in the eyes, and whispered, "Thank you.  I'd about given up on anyone having any mercy on me."

"No problem" I responded.  "How far you going?"

"As far away as I can get" she mumbled.  "As far away as I can get."

I shifted the car into gear and headed back on the road.  After a mile or two, I decided to try to make small talk as the silence between us was deafening.

"Have a bad night?"

"I've had a bad life."

"Are you running away from someone?"

"Are you?"

"Are you in trouble with the law?"

"Are you?"

"Look, we've only got a few miles before I get home.  Is there somewhere I can take you?"

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

"Do you want some company?"

I hesitated before responding.  She was indeed a looker.  Her hair, though somewhat stringy and still damp, glistened in the darkness.  In the instrument lights on the dash I couldn't tell what color her eyes were, but they were so big and seemed to beg for attention.  I'll stop there in my describing of her, but only because I consider myself a gentleman.  I will add, just for your imagination, that she had everything a hetero man could desire, and plenty of it.

Still, I'd heard tales of hitchhikers like her.  They preyed upon the goodwill of the innocent as a hawk would a field mouse.  They ended up becoming victims that were found dead the next morning by neighbors, shaking their heads, wondering how such a dreadful thing could happen to such a "nice" man, and gossiped about for months.

That wasn't a goal of mine to end up that way!

"How about let's go and get something to eat?  I'm kind of hungry and haven't been shopping for food in ages.  There's a truck stop just up the road a bit.  You can dry out there, get your stomach full, and maybe find a ride to get you to where you want to go.  Sound good?"

"So, you're telling me that you don't want me?"

Nothing like a direct question to unsettle the nerves.  If I told her I wanted her, I'd look like a dirty old man.  If I told her I didn't want her, she'd feel rejection and who knows how she would react.  Hell, she might even go spaz on me and start screaming rape or something to get some attention.  With the body in the trunk, that was the last thing I needed.  Damn, why did I ever pick her up?  I had to careful how I handled this now.

"It's not that I want you or don't want you.  It's about my stomach wanting food and not having any at my place.  I just thought that you might be a little hungry, too.  Plus, you've got to be cold in those wet clothes.  We'll eat, dry out, and then decide on the next move.  Fair enough?"

She simply nodded her head up and down in forced agreement.  

Silence filled the car until we finally arrived at Big Fred's Truck Stop.  Since the interstate had been built a few years ago, Fred's didn't have the huge business it once enjoyed.  Only an occasional trucker, traveler, or the Friday night teenager crowd stopped in to fill up on greasy hamburgers and coffee so strong it would eat a hole in your intestines.  Still, it was better than nothing.

The pouring rain was no more than a light drizzle as we quickly trotted up to the door and entered.  We had our choice of seating as there were only two middle aged male patrons sitting at the counter flirting with the all night waitress as she popped her chewing gum and giggled shamelessly.  We sat down and (after a quick glance at the menu) I gave the waitress our order.  

Only then did I really see her in the light for the first time.  I'm guessing she was in her early 20's, which made her at least thirty years younger than myself.  Her eyes, which I could see were blue in color, darted back and forth from me to the door and back over and over, as if she was expecting someone to come charging in and grab her.  

My mind darted back to the trunk of the car and the body it held.  Yeah, there were similarities.  But the bitch in my trunk was older and strung out on crack.  This girl was so much younger and beautiful.

"Who are you afraid of?"

"No one ... now."

"So, are you gonna tell me your story?"

"Look, let's just say that sometimes we do things that we know are wrong, but we get caught up in the mess and can't get out of it.  I'm not saying that I'm innocent.  No, not by a long shot am I innocent.  But, what I guess I'm saying is that sometimes we really don't see the wrongs until we step away and get a better look.  So, enough of that.  I'd prefer if we just dropped it now.  I don't feel much like talkin' anyway."

She shifted her attention away from me and to the door next to the OPEN sign that glowed a bright red.  Red like the blood that tried to escape the plastic drop sheet I'd wrapped the body in my trunk.  I returned my gaze back to her face.  It was hard to get over the fact that she seemed so familiar.  

"If you're not afraid of anyone and not running away, then why are you watching the door so intently?"

"Just making sure my exit isn't blocked if I need to leave quickly."

With that, I shut up for a while.  Why would she need to leave quickly?  Of what was she afraid?  This young girl, so beautiful but so mysterious ... what could she have done or been through that would make her so nervous sitting in an old truck stop with a harmless old man?  Well, harmless as far as she knew.

When the waitress returned, she only brought my food.  This made no sense.  I would've happily waited until my rider's order was ready.  How rude!

"What about my friend's order?"  I asked.

"What friend?"

"What do you mean what friend?  Hers of course!"

As I turned my head to the hitchhiker, I found there was no one there.  There was no glass of water, no place setting, and no person.  I felt my mouth drop open as I turned back to the waitress only to find her looking strangely at me.  

"Sir, you came in alone.  Have you been drinking?"

I stood up, put a ten dollar bill on the table, and walked out.  The rain was pouring down again, even harder than it had been earlier when I had picked her up.  Entering the car, I reached over to the passenger seat to find it completely dry.  Even the rubber floor mat on that side was dry.  There was absolutely no trace of anyone having been there at all.

Driving home, I kept my eyes open, hoping to see her walking along the road.  I drove slowly so as not to miss her dark, wet clothes in the faint light of the moon mostly hidden by thunder clouds overhead.  Two or three times I drove the twenty mile stretch, back and forth between the town and the truck stop.  Not once did I see her again.

I'm even older now than I was years ago when that night took place.  On rainy nights, you'll find me driving that lonely stretch of road for hours.  

I'm no longer carrying bodies in the trunk.  Maybe I misjudged those I felt were guilty and punished them my way.  If so, I'll pay for it one day.  Instead, I've become obsessed with solving the mystery of the blond hitchhiker.  

How could she be so real, yet, have disappeared so instantly?  

  

From what was she running?  

From whom was she hiding?

Could it have been me?

Or, perhaps, herself?

Twisted Mix Tape Tuesday: Life Is What Music Makes It

See All The Great Mix-Tape Blogs HERE!!!!!

"The Soundtrack Of My Life" is the topic for this week's Twisted Mixed-Tape Tuesday romp.

(In other words, it's another trip into the personal past of the writer.  How exciting!  Next thing you know, we'll all be doing a post on "How To Properly Perform Morning Defecation While Cutting One's Toenails.")

This might be an easy feat for a person in their twenties or thirties, but when you are only months away from one's sixties, the task becomes much more difficult.  What really becomes difficult is when so much of one's life was shaped by the music of their early years, instead of the rinky dink crap that's being produced in today's supposed music industry.  

"Yo-Yo, listen to me, listen to me, listen to me.

Don't cha know, years ago when I was a squirt, 

No gats, no drugs, no people ta hurt,

I lived each day, like it was my last, 

never thought I'd be around, talkin' 'bout the past.

But here I be, damn good lookin' to see,

Yeah, I'm still here, makin' love 'til three.

So take yo ho, and warm her up for me,

Cuz you ain't sh*t, I'm almost f**kin' six-ty."

Jay-Z, watch your tail.  

I'm ready to put you to shame!

I guess one could say that an elementary school music teacher, by the name of Mrs. Dyer, had a lot to do with my love for music.  Twice a week, we'd have a music class in which we'd sing standards of the day, as well as some of the early folk songs.  Back then, it was a good thing to be patriotic and in love with your country.  What better song to express this than "This Land Is My Land?"

This patriotism was also formed by our required reciting of the Pledge of Allegiance To The Flag each morning before starting our class work.  Most say this without thinking about it.  I ask you to please take a couple of minutes and listen to this version done so well by one of the phenomenal comedians of the day, Red Skelton, in one of his more serious moments.

I remember when we first sent troops over to Vietnam.  We were told we were fighting the spread of Communism by doing so.  Most of us believed the government and what they told us.  We were Americans and the government never lied.  Only the U.S.S.R.'s government did that!  At least, that's what we were led to believe.  The American fighting man was the best there was.  Our efforts helped to end World Wars I & II, as well as the Korean Conflict.  There was no better song to express our belief in him than this song.

The battle for Civil Rights was going mainstream.  Whites against Blacks, Whites against Whites, Blacks against Blacks, everyone had an opinion.  Equal rights didn't mean either side was superior.  Neither did it mean that there was something owed to either side.  It meant that all men were created equal.  We could live together, accepting each other as equals, and breed a new culture that didn't hate.  Alas, our aspirations obviously fell short due to those on both sides that wish to use race as a reason or excuse to this day.  Still, no one presented our hopes the way The Youngbloods did with "Get Together."

America was turning upon itself.  Old against young, wealthy against poor, educated against uneducated, the battles were fought.  Sometimes, innocent blood was shed, as was the case when a squad of National Guardsmen fired upon a protesting group of unarmed students at Kent State.  Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young's classic "Ohio" tells the story too well.

(Ohio)

Finally, the war was over!  It was time to party, and party we did.  Many smoked pot and rocked all night long, and the disco crowd snorted cocaine and danced all night long!  Polyester ruled the dance floor as discos became the norm for the "in" crowd with money.  Forget your troubles and woes and Dance, Dance, Dance!

Marriage ... does anyone really know what happiness is until they're married?  (Of course, by then it's too late to do anything about it!)  Sometimes marriage works and sometimes it doesn't.  It takes two to make it work.  Not just some of the time ... all of the time.  When one gives up, or looks for excitement elsewhere, trouble occurs.  Then, it's time to evaluate.  The Mark-Almond band says it best with "What Am I Living For."

We become so involved in our own lives, we forget about those that brought us into the world.  Men are particularly bad about this as they've been taught to be independent and self sufficient all their lives.  (Tell that to a wife the next time her husband asks, "Honey, have you seen my car keys?")

Still, the fathers are the ones that usually suffer the greatest in the realm of being shunned in later years.  Perhaps, it's because they were working so hard to keep the family together and financially prosperous, that they forgot the ones that needed them most, and rarely found them there.  Harry Chapin says it best in "Cat's In The Cradle."

As one grows older, they remember the moments of youth and reminisce.  However, they also become much more appreciative of what they have.  Long term marriages, never easy, can be some of the greatest success stories of the universe.  No, the beauty of youth isn't present.  Nor is the beauty of middle age.  Yet, within the wrinkles lie a tale of love greater than can ever be made for the silver screen.  "On Golden Pond" is one of those movies that comes close to expressing this, but misses many points.  The things that once bugged the hell out of you that spouse has done over the years suddenly become points that you love about them.  No matter what they do, you only see them through the beating of your heart.  They are indeed, so beautiful.  Here's Joe Cocker.

When death becomes a reality that is nearer than ever before, you joke about it.  Fear does nothing but ruin the moment, so enjoy what you have left.  Blood, Sweat & Tears now with "And When I Die."

We are all living in the moment.  Oh, we plan for the future, but the future is never guaranteed.  I've already died twice in my life, once by snake bite and once by heart attack.  Either the third time will be the charm, or I'm going to be like one of my cats and do it seven more times.  

I don't know that I believe in an afterlife, but I can't say that I don't believe in it either.  If it's there, then hopefully, some of my actions during my life will be negated by the good ones.  Hopefully, it's enough to get me to the good destination.  Here's the Edwin Hawkins Singers.

If there is no afterlife, well, then that's it!  I'll have lived my life to its fullest.  I've climbed cliffs, sky and skin dived, snow and water skied, worked with venomous reptiles, alligators and big cats, totaled out a motorcycle,  been shot at, played in a rock band, worked as a radio disc jockey, did stand-up comedy, succeeded in business, swam with the money sharks in corporate headquarters, and had a swim fin nipped by a barracuda in Puerto Rico.  I've traveled the world, ate foods many would turn their noses up at, and slept in places others would be scared to death to even visit.  

Now, if I could only finish my damn book before it's over!   

Ciao!

Ten Things Of Thankful: Fantasy, Miley Cyrus, The Pentagon and Donuts

Visit ALL The Great Blogs In This Hop
 HERE!!!!

A quick note before beginning!

Since Facebook has limited notifications and such, to ensure you get to enjoy all the blog posts provided, don't forget to follow by email. You can sign up down the page a little on the right side (just below all the wonderful pictures of those that follow this blog.)  

**Sign up Today!**

And now, 

back to our show!

**********************

Have you ever just wanted to be creative?

I don't mean the typical "humorous / sarcastic" stuff that will follow here soon, but something really creative?

Say that you're driving down a street.  A street that you know well as you travel it everyday.  Suddenly, the donut shop you've stopped at a million times is no longer there.  (Neither are the twenty police cars you normally see!)  Instead, you're observing a Western scene.  One, in which, includes a couple of really rugged looking characters in 1870’s cowboy garb are giving you strange looks as you drive by.  You hear shots and notice the dust spots rising around you.  Time to get out of town!  

The further you drive, the wilder the landscape gets. In your mind, "Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My" repeats over and over.  You begin to hear more gunshots and immediately find yourself witnessing a historic battle.  The noble red man is putting one over on this long haired blonde guy (with pie on his face) and his troops at the top of a grassy hill.  An arrow crashes through one of the windows of your SUV (piercing your hazard light button) and you give it the gas to head out of danger, honking the horn and scaring horses and feathered riders alike.  You giggle as you see both defecating all over themselves!

Cresting the hill, you're suddenly finding yourself on a freeway filled with vehicles from the 1960's.  You're thinking, "Hey, this is pretty cool!  There must be an antique car show going on somewhere close."  That is, those are your thoughts until you see a billboard promoting Lady Bird Johnson's "Don't be a Litterbug" campaign.  

You stop to pick up a couple of kids dressed like hippies.  They start talking about a new band they just saw in California called the Grateful Dead.  New band?  Hell, didn't Jerry Garcia die a couple of years ago?  A cigarette lighter clicks in the backseat and suddenly the SUV is filled with the aroma of burning grass ... the illegal type (unless you're in Colorado or Washington).  You think, "Hell, it's been years ... why not?"

It's about that time you see flashing lights following you down the highway.  You turn to tell the hitchhikers to put out the joint and find no one there.  Even the smell is only a memory.  Somewhat confused, you pull over to the side of the road.

The lights, once in your rearview mirror, are now overhead.  You're completely engulfed in an ocean of colors rotating around you.  That's when you find yourself wishing you'd had more time to inhale more of the joint your hitchhikers had lit.  

The SUV is rising!  There is no shaking going on, only the steady hum of electric gyro engines above lifting you higher and higher into the air.  You open your window and look down to see the highway start to resemble a strand of spaghetti with tiny ants crawling upon it.  However, you're not afraid.  Even though heights have always caused you to cringe in dread, you're full of excitement an the desire to experience even more.

Shifting you attention above you, you see the bottom of an alien spaceship slowly opening.  "OMG, I'm not into anal probes" runs through your mind.  You see an alien looking at another and vehemently saying, "Damn it, can't you pick you the ones that enjoy probing?"  

"I can't help it if you always go to Kansas to pick up specimens" the other replies.

Suddenly, your direction is shifted downward.  Faster and faster you drop.  The Earth is getting larger and larger much too quickly.  You check your seatbelt to make sure it's tight, and then realize your butt is going to be the recipient of the major part of the impact!  Sadly, there's no airbag for that!  Luckily, you're a McDonald's freak and have built up sufficient padding for any type of landing!

You crash atop a shipping container aboard a ship in the Atlantic and burst through the roof.  Things go black for a moment as the walls against the sides of your SUV keep the sun from entering.  Almost immediately, the container door opens and you find yourself driving out into a shipping yard.  Longshoremen are screaming obscenities (You think they could scream anything else?) as you drive away, yelling something about needing your passport.  

You burst through the yard's gates with your SUV and begin to hear police sirens in the distance.  You take a right and find a donut shop that you've stopped at a million times, and all twenty police cars are there and accounted for.  So, you stop and get a dozen of glazed to take home.  

Finally, you pull into your garage, park your SUV, and pet your dog. At that point, you decide to carry the donuts inside the house before they get cold.

In the background, your dog mutters, "So, you don't like anal probes?"

No matter, you're thankful.  Thankful for having experienced the fantasy and for just being home.  So thankful, you sit down, boot up your computer, and begin a blog hop.  The hop is called, "Ten Things of Thankful."  And, it catches on quickly.  

Almost overnight, you're a superstar named Lizzi!  People come from near and far just to hear your accent.  They bring you fish 'n chips by the millions.  Not being selfish, you share them with all the hungry people of the world.  Now, you're a hero!  Not just a hero in your own country, but of the entire world.

Governments get together and elect you to rule the Earth.  You choose the beaches of Nassau as your government's headquarters.  Things go well until a hurricane comes and devastates the island.  Later, you find things aren't quite the same as people refuse to give back what you've given them.  Throwing your hands up, you settle on just keeping the blog hop going and praying that one day you'll once again be the ruler of the world.

And then, you wake up!

This week, I'm thankful for:

"Tickets for the Bangerz tour ... oops, wrong pic ...
Police were temporarily subdued by individuals
spraying them with deodorant ... an unknown
chemical to most of them!"

1)  Protesters in Kiev.   Having been restrained and being exceptionally tired of having more and more rights taken away from them, protesters in Kiev spoke loudly against the government of the Ukraine by standing up against police actions against them.  They have had water cannons used against them, various forms of gas and rubber bullets shot at them, and now, they're even standing up to the government's latest actions of using live sniper fire to eliminate them.  Their actions have our government backing them, not realizing that, one day soon, their protests may be educational films for Americans that are tired of individual freedoms and outrageous taxation for ridiculous pet projects, and wish to do the same type of protesting here on native soil!  ("It's only just begun" as the Carpenters would've sang!)

WHO???

2)  Sbarro.  This restaurant chain is closing 155 of its locations.  As pizza is no longer the food of choice for teenagers, and mall hopping is no longer the local hangout for the "In" crowd, Sbarro has been suffering economic depression.  To most of us, this only brings one thought, "What the hell is Sbarro?"

3)  Captain Phillips.  The movie "Captain Phillips" (which starred Tom Hanks) is reaching hard to have a sequel.  Two Americans have just been found dead on the captain's ship, the Maersk Alabama.  The ship is still sailing the seas of Eastern Africa, as it did in the movie, and is in constant danger from pirates, as are most vessels in this area.  Hollywood is considering making a sequel called "Captain Phillips II", with Johnny Depp bringing back his role as Captain Jack Sparrow as the new man in charge.  (Aye, matey!)

4)  Powerball.  The 425 million dollar winning ticket was sold in Milpitas, California this week.  Milpitas is a small town just north of San Jose.  The winner will have the option of taking the cash payout of 242.2 million dollars.  The state of California is please that the winner is from there, and is awaiting the millions of dollars it will receive in taxes to pay for the new "Miley and Justin Go Home" billboards they've ordered.  

"Don't you like my cowgirl boots and bare butt ...
well, dontcha???"

5)  Miley Cyrus.  "Good morning, boys and girls.  Miley is not a child.  Miley's show is not for children.  Miley does many bad things during her show.  Things your parents did, and some still do, in their bedroom.  You shouldn't learn about these things from Miley.  You should learn about them like every other school kid learns about them ... by reading all the stuff written on the walls of the bathroom stalls.  That way, you'll know right from wrong!"

Yeah, Miley's at it again and thousands of parents that still envision Miley as Hannah Montana are upset.  Seems they dropped off their youngsters at her "Bangerz" concerts so the parents could have some privacy to screw around, and found their kids were learning about such things at the show.  (Will people ever use their common sense and stop being dumbasses?  The damn name of the concert should have been a warning ... geeeesh!!!!  Did you think it was like using hammers on Lego pieces or what?)  

And I'll take some Fried Rice with that!

6)  The Pentagon.  "Made in China?"   Yep, the United States purchases over $3.3 million dollars of American Flags each year ... from China!  That's right, our own flag is imported and sold to the United States Government, flown over capitols, state houses, courthouses, and even the Pentagon with a little tag on them that read, "Made In China."  Nothing like supporting your own country's manufacturers, is there?  

The Pentagon is now saying, "NO MORE."  Although trade agreements may allow the government to do this, the military is not accepting to fly any flag unless it's made in the United States.  (Isn't is strange that a military that fights for its country and supports the people and manufacturer's of its country are so forgotten by its country?)

7)  Wal-Mart Profits.   Wal-Mart reported a 21% drop in profits over the fourth quarter of 2013.  They blame it on food stamps expiration, stiff competition, and a payroll tax hike.  In addition, profits seem to be down in 2014 due to the same already mentioned, as well as bad weather.  (Welcome to the real world you money hungry bastards!)

8)  U.S. bombs own base.  A video has been released showing the United States accidentally dropped a 500 lb. bomb, meant for the Taliban, close to its own base.  The U.S. Air Force is calling the incident a "major mistake."  (No sh*t!!!  Turn off the Miley Cyrus concert videos and get the damn coordinates right next time!)

"And I'll Huff, And I'll Puff, And I'll Blow Your  ...
Wait A Minute ... Miley's using that line in her
Bangerz concert tour!"

9)  Luge.  Luge is considered to be the most dangerous sport at the Olympics.  Traveling at speeds around 90 mph atop a small sled with nothing around you is definitely a rush.  

However, walking the halls to go to the bathroom in Sochi just became the second most dangerous activity.  Seems the wolves, real wolves, tend to roam the hallways at night.  In a related story, this years group of athletes have taken up a new night time pass time.  It's called "Let's take a piss out the window!"

10)  The Olympics.  Hey, they're just about over!  Not as enjoyable this year as in year's past due to the lousy coverage provided by NBC that never let you know who the competitors were (since a name and country tag on the screen would have been too much work).  Now, we can get back to the really important viewing like The Voice, The Blacklist, and re-runs of Duck Dynasty.  (Lord help us all, please!)

*     *     *     *     *

So, that's it for another week.  Ten Things of Thankful has come to a close.  Time to get into the SUV and go back for more donuts!

Anal probe, anyone?

Ciao!

Twisted Mix-Tape Tuesday: Respect the Soul and the Person

VISIT ALL THE MIX-TAPE BLOGS HERE!!!!!!!

In the middle of a conversation with a young man a couple of days ago, he found it necessary to express to me how members of the black race never got any respect until they started the RAP movement.

"You might already have guessed that he was in his very early 20's, and very naive."

Not wanting it to turn into a race vs. race conversation, nor to sound like an old fart by telling him how I had marched against the KKK and for Civil Rights in Indiana back in the 60's and 70's, I decided to ask him a more direct question.

"What is respect?"

He proceeded to tell me that having money got you respect.  Being able to afford to buy big cars, fancy jewelry, take out models, and do whatever you wanted because you could buy your way out of it gained you respect.

So, I asked him if he respected Justin Bieber.

Of course, he didn't respect him was his general response (in language I'd prefer to use here).  Justin was what he called a rich "wigger", or a white that pretended he was black.  That didn't gain him any respect.  In fact, it made him a sorrier "cracker" than most, because the folks he "hangs" with only let him stick with them because he pays for everything.  He was a sucker that was being used by the "players."

Not the actual language I'd use, but my feelings exactly!

The conversation ended quickly as we got busy at work.  Still, it had started over a conversation about Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas' statement, "My sadness is that we are probably today more race and difference conscious than I was in the 1960's when I went to school"  

I began to wonder, "What type of person really looks at the color of another's skin in determining if they're a person of quality or not?"  That, of course, led to, "Is the constant usage of race as an issue in the courts and justice arenas being used as an excuse, and if so, what would it take to end it being a reason for anything?"

I have no answers.  Nor, do I expect any miracle revelations to shower me from above and enlighten the human race.  That's why we were given common sense!  Unfortunately, there are many in our world that have forgotten that's something they have, as they fail to ever call on it for a solution to a problem.

Most of the people I deal with are not racists.  I'm not comfortable with them, don't appreciate their viewpoints, and look at them as extremely narrow minded.  But, they are not something new in the world.  As I marched, decades ago, the narrow minded lined the streets, yelling obscenities and throwing an occasional bottle or rock.  They couldn't understand why I would march.  They looked at me as a traitor to my race.  They couldn't understand then, nor can they now.  

They couldn't hear the music!

See, the music was what proved we were all equal.  Say what you will about the words of the leaders of the cause.  The music was what pulled us all together.  And, it wasn't protest music for the most part.  No, it was music of love and life and heartbreak and hope.  It was the sound of a human being (regardless of their color) having the same hopes and feelings and emotions as any other color human being would have.  

Respect?  Respect was in the love of the music and those that performed it.  The beat, the words, the flavor ... it got you movin'!  And, one of the best to get you movin' was Archie Bell & The Drells with their song, "Tighten Up."

My feet are still movin'!  Aren't yours?  

The music was called all sorts of things, Rhythm & Blues, Dance, Ghetto, Motown, and most of all, the one that fit it best, Soul.  And, who better to bring the Soul sound to life than the Queen of Soul herself, Aretha Franklin?

Tell me you can't respect her deep rooted soul sound and powerful voice and I'll tell you to get a hearing aid and a new life!  

Before his days of bearded face and stocking caps, there was a young man demonstrating that he could put forth the sounds of life as well as Aretha could.  Be it a solo affair, or a duet with one of many, Marvin Gaye listened to the sounds of the night, and brought forth the sounds of the mind.  Here's Marvin Gaye and "I Heard It Through The Grapevine."

Creedence Clearwater Revival and Gladys Knight and the Pips were two other groups to later perform Marvin's hit song.  However, neither of them had the success he did with it.  Why?  Well, he'd earned the respect of the masses with his performances of it.  Just like Al Green did with "Let's Stay Together."

One you may not have heard of is our next entry, Gil Scott-Heron, who just died last year.  Gil was called by some the black man's Bob Dylan.  His theme, one that many of the majority race had a hard time dealing with, was to stand up and not be cattle.  Don't take what you're given and be satisfied.  Get out there and get all you can by earning it.  I'm sure if Gil were still around today, he'd probably be against using anything as an excuse.  Excuses for failure are for losers.  Reasons for success are for winners.  Here's Gil Scott-Heron with "Ain't No Such Thing As Superman"

And, yes, there were one hit wonders that earned respect, too.  Why?  Because they gave it their all and produced something so viable, so intimate, so giving of themselves, you could only return the favor by loving what they did.  Just like this one.  This is Barbara Mason with "Yes, I'm Ready"

Then, there were the anthems of the day.  Otis Redding's "(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay" was a classic beyond classics.  His music stretched the imagination as he drew from deep within on every note to pull you into his story telling.  Here's a song, later done by Three Dog Night and numerous others, that still holds that power to even this day.  It's Otis Redding and "Try A Little Tenderness."

And, who could forget this anthem of love?  It's the classic lovesong from Percy Sledge,  "When A Man Loves A Woman."

Even Al Wilson had his own chart blaster in 1973 with "Show And Tell."

If you're looking for a song that goes for the grit and reaches down in the soul for a plea of hopelessness, there is no better offering than Bill Withers  "Ain't No Sunshine."

No, some of these folks never had millions of dollars to waste away on bling and drugs.  They really didn't need to.  They had their music.  Oh, drugs will always be a part of the entertainment industry.  Some will enjoy them, some will allow them to rule their lives, and some will die from them.  Yet, isn't it that way with society in general?

Every artist I've presented deserved the respect of the generation they catered to, and all the generations that followed.  They blazed trails, sacrificed dearly, and fought battles that many today have no idea ever existed.  They were human beings of the nth degree, bringing beauty to the world in their music and words.  Human beings that knew beauty didn't lie in the diamonds in the teeth, but in the words they sang and the meanings they presented.  If you can't respect the above artists for what they did and the music they created, then maybe it's time to take a look at yourself.  Perhaps, instead of being as deep as you believe you are, you might just be a little shallow.  

If you'd listen to the words of those who fought the battles, you might find that respect is always earned, not given because of the size of one's wallet.  

Besides, don't we all use either credit or debit cards anyway?

How thick does your wallet need to be?

Ciao!