**norm’s note**

part of why i like this so much is the work baeotic. so, like any good person, i googled it. it seems to be a word used only in spam. this presents me with a dilema. do i repeat the word on my blog? heck yeah, i do! that’s poetry.

:P

it was still dark out. the monsters were mostly nocturnal, large, hairy beasts. there hadn’t been an attack in her memory but she was still afraid. they were all afraid, as long as it was dark out.

this isn’t what had her awake before dawn. she was waiting for the high priest to perform the rite of dawn. she was waiting to hear him sing. she didn’t like to hear him sing. in fact, she hated the rite of dawn. she hated the priest.

she remembered the first time they had put her in a room with the priest, alone. they told her that it happened to everyone. it happened to every female in the barracks. it was going to be okay. maybe she would have a child. that was good. that would make them happy. that would keep her in the barracks.

she had had children. they had all been taken, taken from her, taken from her life and her care. they were either in a different barracks or in the priesthood.

the other day, she had had a strange thought. she had been outside, in the light, the warm light. she had been taking her turn sorting through the seeds and the feed. she had wondered if there was another option. was it possible to not be in a barracks and not be a priest? was there some other option? she felt weird just thinking about it. it turned out that she wasn’t clever enough to actually think of a different option.

right now, she was thinking about her children. one of them had died. she had known it right away. the others had been taken, taken away from her. she was wondering if they still believed in the sun god?

when she had been young, young and blonde, she had loved the sun god. she had loved to be out in his warmth and his safety. she had been told, and believed what she had been told, about the sun god. each day, the priest would celebrate the return of the sun with the rite of dawn. for, as she had been told, the sun god brought all good things to them. and while the sun god may have left them for a while, it would always come back to them. this was part of the tradition of the rite of dawn. the endless joy brought by the return of the sun. the monsters almost never came in the light. almost.

they had taken her children in the light, right in front of her.

she was pacing and muttering. she might have been doing this for a while. she wasn’t certain. some of the other women were up now, too. one was close. it was one of the old women. one of the ones that was always poking into everyone else’s business. she knew she must have been muttering because the old one turned and faced her.

the old one turned to her and said, “you are right to hate the priest. you are right to point out the hypocrisy.” the old woman must also have realized that the sun didn’t protect them from all evil. didn’t keep them absolutely safe. they had probably taken the children of the old one in the light, too.

The old one clucked on, “you didn’t know the old priest, did you? sometimes he would miss the rite of dawn. we would be waiting but it would never come. They left him here until he was old and stringy. but, he was no good in the room, not with us ladies. so, they replaced him, replaced him with someone who is good in the room, good with the ladies.”

it was close now. there were no windows in the barracks but it was cheaply built and there were many cracks between the boards. and the walls were thin. the floor was old and thin. she could see some of the sky turning from black to dark blue, signaling that the rite of dawn would be sung soon.

she said, not to the old one but louder than her earlier muttering, “i hated being in the room with this one.”

the old one replied, “we all hate it in the room. he’s a cock!” then, she sauntered off, gently laughing and bobbing her head.

the dark blue was turning to a light blue in the sky. the priest would be making his way up to the top of the fence. soon, he would sing the rite of dawn. soon they would all hear him, they would hear the cock-a-doodle-do of the rite of dawn.

these days, i’m not really that angry of a person. i often wonder where the anger has gone. but last night, for i think the first time, i wondered at what i was angry. this is the conclusion i came to, i was angry at high school. for a lot of things: not preparing me AT ALL for college, the stupid things i was required to do EVERY DAY, the dumb people, the unfairness of the education system in illinois and the chicago suburbs, and a lot more.

i know that i’m still angry at high school, but no where near the levels i felt before. my anger has faded into the background, as time and life have moved me further away from high school. so, i’m left with a question: does this mean i have grown up? am i an adult because i’m no longer so mad at the world?

does anyone else feel this way?

:P

:P

i’ve been ignoring updating this thing for quite some time now. sorry about that. between everything in my life, i’ve had a hard time finding the energy to do anything computer related when not at work. i hope that my life changes will help me return to a better update cycle. i hope. thanks to everyone who has stuck with me during this dry spot. i think i know who you are. :)

anyway, a little spring cleaning and some new fun. good times!

:P

here’s to new scenery!

:P

i am so glad that life did not turn out like that.

:P

:P

I sorta came to a conclusion. one that seems obvious and obscure at the same time. when we lose someone, it hurts. but, it only hurts because we got something from the person we lost. it is important to focus on what we gained from those we have lost, and not on how much it hurts to have lost.

:P

the flight, once it was in the air, was uneventful.

it was at the airport that things started to get weird. they’ve got those fancy automatic walkways. i was on the standing still side, just minding my own business. i was carrying my computer case and my backpack. i didn’t check any luggage, so i was on my way out to the parking lot. out of nowhere, this scruffy looking, bearded guy walked up to me from behind and stopped, looked me right in the eyes and said, “it’s at the bank of phones. go to the second phone and look in the business section of the phone book under the r’s.” i just looked back at him. i had no idea what he was talking about.

it was about 9:30 in the morning. i didn’t have anywhere to be for the rest of the day, so i checked it out. what was an extra five minutes to me? i got off the auto walkway and headed over to the phones. there, at the second phone in the phone book, just where he said, was an envelope. inside the envelope was a piece of paper with these words written on it, “we all go someplace when we leave, but we never actually get there.” that was it. i stood there, kinda dumb founded, for about two minutes. then the phone rang. i was a little startled. out of habit, i picked up the phone. the person on the other end said, “the beer god,” and hung up.

okay, i thought, and went on my merry way. my car, and every other one in the long term lot, had a flier under the windshield wiper. it was a reminder that all cars are subject to inspection entering and exiting the airport.

i drove out of the parking lot and headed west on the highway, toward home. i live out in the ‘burbs. so, it was kind of a trek from the airport. about four exits before mine, i saw a woman suddenly pull off the highway. she blazed through the red light and headed for the on-ramp back onto the highway. about a third of the way up the on-ramp, she pulled off, onto the grass, and got out. she ran over to the barbed wire fence and vaulted it. there, on the other side of the fence was a giant blow-up beer can. i was rubber-necking it pretty hard to see all of this. but i just had to know what she was doing. i got off at the next exit and got back on going east. i went back to that exit and got off. i got onto the west on-ramp and pulled up behind her car. i got out and went over to the fence. i didn’t have her confidence, so i pushed down the middle string of barbed wire and slipped under the top string. i walked over to her. she was kneeling down in front of the giant beer can. i looked around. we were in some field. there was nothing around, except the giant beer can and an orange extension cord going off through the field. she was crying. i knelt down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. i said, “are you okay? can i help?”

she whispered, “i never thought it would actually be here. i saw all of this in a dream. the highway, the red light, the beer can. i just thought it was… i never actually believed… it’s just that, well, i’ve been so unhappy for so long. and, you know, dreams can be so weird. well, it’s just… it’s just that, well, i knew that i needed some kind of help. and here it is. it’s all real. it’s all, well, it’s all… i guess it’s gonna be okay now.”

i said, “but, you’re crying. are you sure it’s okay? can i get you some help? or maybe call someone for you. i have a cell phone, i could…”

she interrupted me, “mobile phone, they’re not really cell phones anymore. if it’s at all modern, that is.” she leaned back and sat. she wiped her eyes and looked at me for the first time. “sorry, it’s a pet peeve of mine. see, i’m kinda in the business. cell phone means that you are restricted by your coverage area. today, most phones are digital, so they are not restricted. the correct term is ‘mobile phone.’”

she sniffled a couple of times and wiped her nose across her arm. she looked tired. i said, “the beer god?” repeating what the voice from the phone had said earlier.

she went white and slack-jawed. she looked at me again, this time really taking me in. she whispered, “how do you know about him?”

that was a tough one. how was i supposed to explain to her what had happened in the airport? i said, “we are all going someplace when we leave, but we never actually get there, do we.” she screamed, quite loudly. and she just kept screaming. it started out scared, but turned kinda primal. she screamed herself horse, facing the beer can. then she collapsed.

i ran back to my car. this time, i vaulted the fence. i got the bottle of water i had purchased in l.a. and ran back. i didn’t quite get over the fence with my second jump. my pant leg caught in the barbed wire and i fell flat on my face. i got up and dusted myself off. that’s when i noticed that the blow-up beer can and the woman were gone. i looked back and saw that her car was gone, too. i looked around. nothing. not even the barbed wire fence. just me, the bottle of water about four feet in front of me, my car, and the on-ramp. i walked up to where the beer can had been. the grass wasn’t even disturbed. but, the orange extension cord was still there. i picked it up and gave it a shake. it snaked through the field, going north. i followed it.

i walked for an hour. well, it seemed like an hour. the extension came to an end. it was plugged into a socket, just out there in the field. in the other outlet a tv was plugged in. also, just out there in the field. it snapped on. there was no sound, but picture. it was an airplane. the scene zoomed in on the plane, right up to a window. it moved in through the window and moved up, so that i could see a person sitting in the middle seat. he was reading a paper. it was me. it was my yellow baseball cap and my clothes, but i couldn’t see my face. the picture zoomed in on the paper. it was that three-day-old paper. on the front page was a picture, in black and white, of a giant blow-up beer can with a woman kneeling in front of it. the caption under the picture said, “the second coming? only time will tell.” i absolutely did not remember seeing that picture in the paper. i decided to go back to the car and find that paper. i followed the extension cord back. except it did not lead back to the highway. when i had walked for another hour, i saw a farm house, which had not been there before. the extension cord ran up to the house, up the porch and was plugged into a socket on the front of the house. that was a little odd, i thought.

i walked up to the door and knocked. a little old man answered the door. he looked at me and said, “you watch too much tv.”

i said, a little taken aback, “what?”

he said, “i said, you watch too much tv. you think that any house you see in the country with candles in the windows is a safe place to stay. well, it doesn’t work like that.”

“but, you don’t have candles in the windows,” i replied.

“damn right, i don’t. this isn’t some kind of flop house. we live here. we don’t want your kind knocking on the door. that’s what the door mat says. it says, ‘if the trailer is a rocking, don’t come a knocking.’”

i asked, “the beer god?”

he said, “that’s right. we all go someplace when we leave, but we never actually get there. and let me tell you, sonny, this isn’t there. get it?”

“excuse me,” i said. “i didn’t mean to disturb you, but could you point me to the highway? i seem to have lost my way and can’t find my car. i thought it was over here, but i was obviously mistaken. i don’t mean to be a bother. i just wanted some directions.”

“the damn highway is that way, punk.” he pointed back the way i had come. “now, get the hell off my land before i fill yer ass with buck shot! you damn, dirty hippy!”

i said thanks and walked back the way i had come. i was starting to get hungry. all i had eaten that day was a sweet roll from the airport. it had to be past noon at this point.

this time, when i reached the end of the extension cord, it was plugged into another extension cord. this new one was yellow. it took a 90 degree turn, to my right. i kept following the cord. i walked and walked. after what seemed like another hour, i sat down. just then, my “mobile phone” rang. which was odd, since i had left it in the car. i fished it out of my pocket and answered it. a woman’s voice said, “orange to yellow, your a fine fellow. yellow to orange and there’s no rhyme,” and hung up.

okay, i admit it. at that point, i cried. i just started to cry. at first softly, then just plain sobbing. i hadn’t cried like that since i was a kid. i just let it all out. i have no idea how long i cried, but out of nowhere, a hand was on my shoulder. i looked up and it was the woman, the one i had seen crying. she knelt down and said, “hey buddy, you okay? you blew through that red light like a mad man. then, you just ran over here and started to cry. is there something i do to help? here, i brought you some water.” she handed me a bottle of water. i drank some and wiped my nose across my arm.

i said, “we all go someplace when we leave, but we never actually get there. isn’t that so? i just wanted to help, but here i am, all fucked up and crying. i just wanted to help… it isn’t like i am a bad person or anything. i just…”

she interrupted and said, “i know, you just wanted to help. here, let me help you up.” she got to her feet and proffered a hand. i took it and just kissed it.

i said, “thanks, i needed that. seems like it’s just not my day.” i got to my feet and looked at her. she was smiling. i asked, “does ‘the beer god’ mean anything to you?”

“that how you got here? drinking and driving doesn’t mix, buddy. lucky i’m not a cop. you could be in some serious trouble.”

“no, no. i haven’t been drinking. it’s just that, well this’ll sound a little silly, but i thought i you might know something about the beer god. i have no idea what it means, except that someone said it to me on the phone and i saw something in the paper about the second coming. guess i sound crazy. believe me, it has been a bad day.”

“look buddy, politics and religion are touchy subjects. i just wanted to see if you were okay. i’m not sure that you are, but there’s not much more i can do for you here. you wanna call someone? i have a cell phone.”

“mobile phone,” i corrected her. “cell phones are out-dated. today, most phones are digital and are therefore unbounded. so, they are not ‘cell phones’ but mobile phone.”

she cocked her head to the side and said, “i know, i’m in the business. i usually don’t make that mistake. can’t imagine why i said that.” she shook her head and looked away, behind her at the cars, hers parked in front of mine. “don’t tell anyone i said that, okay?”

“your secret’s safe with me,” i said and put out my hand. she shook it.

“name’s george,” she said.

“i’m lucas,” i lied.

“nice to meet you luke. look, you okay to drive? i gotta get home. it’s gonna get dark soon and i need to make dinner.”

“yeah, i’m cool. thanks for the water.”

“oh, it’s nothing. i always carry a lot of water. keeps me healthy. don’t forget your extension cord there,” and she pointed to a rolled up, orange extension cord.

“it’s not mine,” i said. george shrugged and walked back toward the cars. i hurried in font of her to the fence. i picked up the top strand and pushed the middle one down with my foot. she slipped through and held it the same way for me. i caught my shirt on the top strand on my way though. my shirt ripped and a piece was left in the fence. i looked at it for a minute, caught up in some momentary revelry. it wasn’t my shirt. it was a piece of my pajama tops, that i had worn the night before. i looked down. i was in my pj’s. she was staring at me with a weird look on her face.

“well, don’t just leave it there. that’s littering, and i won’t stand for littering. march, young man!”

i reached out and grabbed the fabric off the fence and held it up to the light. there was something written on it. it said, “curious george and the man in the big, yellow hat.” i turned to george and started to say, “can’t imagine why i am wearing…” but she was gone again. so was her car. so was the fence. there was just my car and the on-ramp. i walked over to it and opened the door. on the passenger seat was the three-day-old paper. on the front page was a picture of a man in a cowboy hat holding a monkey’s hand. the caption said, “missing: a new york explorer and his companion. they went someplace, but never actually got there.” the man in the hat was me.