Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Author: Jamez

  • Living to learn again…

    My classes are all sorted out now, I requested special permission to attend ENG 252 (world literature) from the English department, who was happy to accomodate. ENG 252 is completely virtual, but my instructor is my professor from last semester, so it should be fine.

    My first English class (ENG 112) was a lot of fun, I think I will enjoy my new instructor. He truly kept my interest, and was funny to boot! He wants me to keep a journal, a hand written journal, which gets on my nerves, but we’ll see what we can do.

    Math is an hour away, but it too should be fine.

  • Obstacles in time

    Today, January 9th, 2006 would have been my mothers 56th birthday. But, she’s dead, so it’s not. Today is the first day of classes for the second semester, you may remember that the last day of classes for last semester was my birthday, December 6th. Mom manages to screw things up even when she’s dead.

    Yesterday the school calls to tell me my first class of the day, Speech, is cancelled due to not enough students. They didn’t know this until yesterday? A Sunday? At 4:00 p.m.? Now what? Well, I have to find a replacement class, as I have to have a certain amount of credits each semester.

    The cats know somethings up, they are all skittish this morning… why did that alarm go off again Daddy? They’ll be happy when I open the windows, it’s gonna be 65 today… must suck to live in Wisconsin.

  • Spinning Wheels

    I’ve got a bike
    You can ride it if you like
    It’s got a basket
    A Bell that rings
    And things that make it look good….

    Pink Floyd

    Ok, no bell, no basket… but I do have a working bike again!!!! woo hoo!!!

  • Briefly a Baptist

    Early in the 1980s, while we lived in Florida, Mom got a religious streak or maybe she just felt bad that we hadn’t had any real religious upbringing. Of course, its also possible that the Sunday School classes seemed too much like free babysitting for her to pass up.

    It was actually nice, The Baptist Church’s Sunday School actually taught some stuff that was entertaining to my then early teenaged mind. After classes we would then get escorted into the church with the rest of the people. The minister would talk, the people would “Amen”, stand, sit, kneel and pray making me feel out of place and without a script.

    One particular day, perhaps even during the holidays, a man dressed in a red devil costume (complete with pointy tail)ran down the center of the aisle with a “ghetto blaster” on his shoulder that was blasting something popular at the time. The message was pretty clear, “rock and roll is satan’s music”. We laughed almost all the way home, it was so silly.

    Things in Sunday School that actually frightened me, were the questions they asked every week: “Who would like to be saved today? Who would like to give their heart over to our savior Jesus Christ?” A child or two would raise their hand and be escorted out the back door, reentering moments later in tears if not wailing out loud. I didn’t know what this “being saved” thing was, but I certainly wasn’t interested in crying or being hurt.

    But the day I stopped believing in God stand clearly in my mind. The teacher was explaining about how our should go to heaven. A young boy asked a question that had been on my mind for quite a while: “Do dogs and cats go to heaven?” The instructor said, “no, animals don’t have a soul. They are just mindless beasts.”

    That statement crushed my hope in a lord greater than myself. I thought Frannie, my dog at home, and how they thought she didn’t have a soul. But, I had seen her life, her love and her soul in her eyes and knew there was more there than some mindless animal. That’s how I knew they were wrong, and if they were wrong about this one thing they were wrong about a lot of things.

    So there isn’t a god after all, or if there is I want nothing to do with him…

  • The Return of the Beast

    Donna M. and Chris S. sent me an unusual gift….

    They said it was coming, and I assumed: cookies (love peanut butter cookies, feel free to send some), or World Of Warcraft subscription card or even a comic book….

    The UPS guy arrived, knocked at the door to be sure someone was home and then went to get my package. He brought the cart out, the cart? That’s a lot of cookies or comics… wait… maybe they sent me Spiderman from work… Nope, he discards the cart and just lifts the box… its huge what the hell is it? As he gets closer I see the name brand on the box: Insignia.

    “They bought me a phqn TV?” I exclaim… and then quickly say “I’m sorry, please excuse my language…”

    “No problem, you must have some nice friends.” He says.

    You have no idea… I have the best of friends. Thank you to Donna and Chris… such weirdo’s.

  • Five hundred twenty-five thousand…

    How do you measure a year in the life? First I thought I’d send stuff out in the mail, but that’s neither me nor cost effective. So, it gets posted here. The year was one of change, tears, and conquering fears.

    Favorite items of the year:
    TV: CSI’s Quentin Tarantino episode had to be the creepiest thing on TV I’ve seen in years
    Book: The Kite Runner
    Music: Rob Thomas, Soundtrack to RENT, John Legend (thank you Denise F)
    Movie: It’s a tie between Batman Begins and RENT
    Video Game: World of Warcraft

    I started the year with a staggering change: I quit smoking!!! No patch, no gum, not even hypnosis… just a little prayer to God. That’s it… is all it took for me. Thank God for understanding friends, co-workers and family.

    At my place of employment: Our kind and loving boss was replaced with a monster that knows only to tow the line. Thus started the downward spiral of that program. At that point REALLY missed my boss, at this point still do. The newsletter I had created reached it’s one year anniversary. And people started to find new places to work, live and be.

    Only one trip of any consequences: to Cleveland to visit Julie, Chris, Sam and Hannah (save the best for last). Had a great time, you can read about it on this site in the June archives, the title of the story is Fish Pride.

    I made a decision in June to return to school, to prove I could, to get away from my job, and to get an education. Sent in my application for student aid, the college, and started to look for a place to live. College is going well, see the posts in December.

    Change was all around as friends found new jobs: Zelda, Kristi (or Christy), Julie, Robert, Donna, Erin, Veronica…. the list goes on. Found new homes: Mark and Robert, Chris and Donna, Peter and Christy (or Kristi damn personality disorders).

    I left Washington, DC my home of 7 years in August/September with the cats (they still have not forgiven me) to the small town: Chesapeake. Truthfully, its a sprawling area filled with people of all races and ages.

    Ran in my first marathon in October, bought a bike and still rode it up until December 7th when it broke.

    When I left DC, I didn’t leave one single friend… I left family. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss Gary, Chen, Ann, Courtney, Phyllis, Donna, Michelle, Denise, Mark, Robert, Jeri, Keetra, Kim…

    I truly miss my family, my home, my life.

  • The Spirit of Christmas II

    Have they all been bad? No. Has it changed since you have gotten sober? a little

    My second year of sobriety, and Christmas was fast approaching, I actually had a job and money which were both rare at the time. I actually wanted to buy gifts for my two best friends, but it was very hard. They both had really good jobs and I could not afford to buy them anything that would compare to what they would buy me. I found myself in tears (making it a true holiday) in a department stores jewelry department, just trying to figure out what to do. They each got a pendant with three leaves, a leaf to represent each one of us… kinda lame think? Then on my 3 year AA birthday they gave me a gold watch with 2 leaves and a diamond on the face and said: we are the leaves, you are the true gem!

    So, no not all bad.

    Or, my second year in DC, finally a really good job, lots of money and time to buy gifts for my family in Wisconsin without actually having to go there. My siblings are unemployed, my mother unemployed standard fare for the family. Having a job and money, I told the siblings that I would pay for Mom’s gift from all of us. I bought her a nice heart shaped diamond pendant and a ring to match and shipped them to WI. The siblings teased her and teased her for 3 weeks straight about what the gift would be; toilet paper, dirty socks or any number of silly items. Come the day of X-mas eve they had her do the dishes before she could open her gift, in all of my life the one thing I cannot remember seeing is my mother doing dishes. They kept the torture up and waited for the VERY LAST GIFT, and taking so very many pictures before she could open it up… tears and tears and tears some more (making it a true holiday). Mom loved it, and the ring fit right there on the spot. Course, then the siblings got mad cause I was showing off, and claimed the gift was just from me.

    Happy Phqn Holiday!

  • The Spirit of Christmas

    A cold December morning, a car filled with packages, people and pain. So little room that there is a pie between my feet in the back seat. All four of us kids are in the back seat, Dad and Mom sit in the front, the smell of last nights alcohol still seeping through their pores.

    The car travels slowly up Grandpa’s ice covered mile and a half drive, as we approach the house we see the other relatives cars already having arrived. The car comes to a stop and we all start to exit the car, I bend to grab the pie and turn to shut the door. My footing is not secure and I slip precariously on the ice, the pie is lost from my grip and I watch as it falls to the ground as if in slow motion, my hands grasp to catch it just to save this one pie, but I fail.

    “You’ve ruined my Christmas,” my mother wails “can’t you do anything right!” and she turns and walks up the sidewalk, never turning to see the despair in my eyes.

    Happy Phqn X-Mas

  • A Novel Idea

    How do you write a novel? How do you put together stray thoughts and ideas into a seamless series of events?

    First I have to be rid of old ideas:
    a novel is –> this big <– or a paragraph this long. These ideas are stuck in my head, and the idea that I have to have the killer opening line. Like Billy Crystal from Throw Momma From the Train constantly writing and rewriting the same line “the night was dark… the night was misty, it was a dark and stormy night…” and wanting to kill when someone comes up with the perfect line… in this case it was: “The night was sultry…”

    A story, an idea, a biography, all of these things can be a book… provided you just take that one step at a time and make it happen. Sitting and staring at a blank sheet of paper, or in my case a blank computer screen doesn’t accomplish anything….

    JUST WRITE!

  • Publishing

    OK, so technically, I’ve already had one story published, a story called: You Kept Your Promise was published in the Grapevine (a 12 step magazine) in 1998.

    Now I’ll have 2 or 3 more stories published in TCC’s (Tidewater Community College) Channel Marker Annual publication. I say 2 or three as the letter list three stories, but only two of them are mine…. so I’m hoping for three, but we can live with 2. The stories are:

    …and it sold comics

    and

    A Race Worth Winning

    Both to be found here on this site, so you read them before they were published anywhere of note!!! Woot!!! hoorah for u.