Saturday April 2nd

Greetings from the hood! Its a beautiful Saturday early evening here in Nashville. I've still got clothes on the line and I did my share of weed pulling out in the front yard. Its windy out there and its about upper 60's. Tomorrow will be about 80 and then a cold front will move through with lots of April showers. And I do love the rain.

Up there is a painting of Dudley/Huhbin'. Who I just caught with his nose in the kitty litter. Damn that Huhbin'!!! I just had to get up and check the litter...... and nothing was there.... I need to break down an get a litter box with a dome. Anyway I did this picture of the Huhbin' because I really enjoy seeing happy paintings. I think I might just start doing quite a few of Huhbin' and see if they sell.

Involving animal business this week .... around midweek there was a raid on a puppy mill in McMinnville Tn. The heroes that went in to the shit hole rescued around 120 or so dogs and some birds. Seven of the dogs died . The conditions were described a horrendous. The dogs were kept in the dark filthy basement of a worthless cunt named Wilma Jones of 263 Mears Road , Mcminnville Tn. 37110. I've heard it'll cost around 65,000 to undo the damage that this waste of life did. The Nashville Paw Foundation http://www.nashvillepaw.com/blog/2011/03/11/new-nashville-paw-foundation.170690 take part in the rescue and coverage of it on their site as well as the local news papers. But for those of you who'd like to drop Wilma a line and tell her that Jesus loves her too , or that you'd like to say goodbye to her executioner style then theres the worthless piece of shits address. Bless her heart.

Another painting. Blah.

Ah...... to be at Wonders!..... Wonders on Woodland! And of course the cozy Back East Shop. Look at all the pretty colors! Pepto Bismol Pink and goldenrod yellow! So nice!



Check out that cigarette lighter! Hollywood! Thats the kind of lighter a real dame would use. With one of those long black fag holders. Puffing away with red alert lipstick on and long red nails. And a sequined dinner jacket thingy. I dont know what they're called but I saw them in lots of Bob Hope movies. I would've never quit if I had had a lighter like that....................

Probably the coolest pole lamp ever! Dang! I've been eyeballin' that lamp now for about a year.


Little piggy salt and pepper shakers. Vintage also.

Check it out! Now, this is a kids bike from when I am not sure. The banana seat may have been a later addition. And if that bike was mine I'd have to add some cards to the spokes. And how about that light?! Thats a big light for such a little fella to use isn't it? That there is what I would call a night ridin' bike. Going out late on a summer night with your bud's , in your second clean tee shirt of the day (per mom) dirty tennis shoes , no socks, fresh mosquito bites and dirty finger nails. Out riding with your buddies for hours on end with not a care nor a fear in the world. Unless of course your talking about that house that sits back a ways from the street .......... the one thats always dark............... where the old lady lives. Just about the time the scary stories of neighborhood haunts are starting to make your arm hairs stand up you hear you mom calling from a couple of blocks away. Time to rest and start again tomorrow.
Thats what that bike says to me. That is its story.


Golden wisdom.

Pigeon Forge Pottery.
A cool picture of my beautiful Lilly.



I am a huge fan of The Invisible Fountain ! The artist name is Luke Cavagnac and I think his art is just so dang cool! I ordered the picture above and with it I got treats galore! I was one happy camper! He included his cd by his band called Claudia Malibu which is great! I really dig this guy. He's up in easthampton ma. Check out his site http://www.etsy.com/shop/InvisibleFountain?ref=pr_shop_more


Lastly the book about a child's visit to heaven................. I had never thought about this until a thanatology course in college.............. but what must it be like for different religions throughout the world? Death I mean. The death experience? I have heard that different religious persons experience death in ways specific to their belief system(s). When my father died I was alone with him , as well as my mother. This would later become an uncanny coincidence or one good reason for me to demand to NEVER BE LEFT IN THE ROOM ALONE WITH A SICK PERSON!
I dont really ............... really.... remember taking in the vibe of my mothers death. I guess because it was so prolific and so mind bending to me. I still dream about my mother to this day and its been almost 20 years.

With my father things were different. Both of my parents died from lung cancer, both cancers were of different cell origination so the amount of time it took to kill their bodies, along with the aid of chemotherapy, varied. My fathers battle took longer. As most will tell you the chemo destroyed his will to live and after about 2 years he gave up. No, no , that is wrong to say. Because my father wasn't a quitter. He suffered from SAD (seasonal affective disorder) and I remember that his last winter here was spent praying for the strength to live to see spring. He felt that if only he could make it to spring, his health could/would take a turn for the better. He died in a hospice one week after my birthday on the 7th of April.

Dad died in the middle of the night. I was sleeping on a recliner on the opposite side of the room. The air conditioner was on in the room (i think) and it was cold. The room was dark except for night light that was made in the ceiling above dad's bed. The light cast a very soothing halo upon his poor sick old body. He was still so handsome . Wait maybe I can find a picture of him......

Well, I will post some of him later. But he was a handsome man. Or more like real cute.
It was still dark and around 4:00 am when I woke from a dead sleep in the hospice there on 16th avenue in downtown Nashville. I had my head turned away from dad toward the window looking out onto the city streets. I was tired and heartbroken from watching my dad succumb to the bitch called cancer. And his poor ole' body, with his "porto cath" and breathing tubes and suction. Only I dont think my dad had a breathing tube in that night. I remember a nurse coming in and giving dad an "extra" shot in his leg. I told dad that when he woke up in the morning we would have soup and ice cream whatever he wanted. I just felt positive about the next day and full of hope.

What woke me up was this feeling of being surrounded. Surrounded by a very slow moving whirl of "being". Something with intelligence. Something that was aware of my presence but not concerned . Something very powerful. And cold. It was at once an eerie feeling and alien. I can say I felt fear and a very calm dread. I reached up and felt my nose and it was cold. I slowly turned my head toward my fathers bed. His head was turned toward my chair and the nightlight lit up his sweet boyish face.

I got up and went to his side and touched his hands. They were cold and stiff. I found that if I rubbed them briskly the heat would return and they would feel more life like. And so I did. There was a small amount of blood on his pillow. His battle was over. All the while the "presence" made its way around me and my dads body in this slow swirling motion.

I went to the nurses station and told them that my dad was dead. They looked at me and commented on how odd that was because they had just been in "about 30 minutes ago, and everything was fine"....................

Which means that when "the death" came to visit its presence woke me . The "death" stayed in the room for about 45 minutes all the while lifting like a fog. And all presence of my dad went with it. Every single last drop of his goodness and his humor and his strength.

It was such a profound experience for me that I made it a point to talk to one of the directors at the Hospice. He told me this was a very common experience and he shared more stories with me involving different patients now deceased. On a more interesting note he talked about one lady who believed through her religion that upon dying one of the devils angels would come to fight for the soul. And sure enough, in the last minutes of her life a horrible struggle took place with an unseen visitor.

I never dream about my father. I dont have to. Hes with me every single minute of every single day. Gone are such men of his greatness. Of his purity. But if...............just if............. somewhere in a heaven that I will know.............if only for a hearts beat in time.................is my dad, fishing in boat , just a simple boat. Casting a line with a cricket for bait. Only to reel the fish in and then set it free. Forever and ever more.


Goodnight Wayne.
My friend.