Fathers Day

2008-06-14-1354-40 Fathers Day, for many a day of celebration and honor.  And for many others like me, a day for remembrance and tribute.  I think it may just be one of the hardest days of the year for me.  My Father, was probably the most important person in my life.  I can’t remember a job he held that didn’t allow all of us kids to go along.  Many of my earliest memories were of spending time at work with dad and my siblings. 

 

If he had one fault, it was that like so many of his generation, he was not very handy with emotions.  I believe he had more trouble voicing how he felt than anyone I’ve ever known.  I did a Fathers day Tribute last year, feel free to read it.  Reba's  song Greatest Man I Never Knew, reminds me very much of my father.

Music Monday; Passion in the Lyrics

Forgotten Hands

Image by Hamed Parham via Flickr

I’ve decided to try something  a little different.  I have noticed that a lot of blogs publish a Music Monday post.  I always enjoy them and like to hear what other people are listening to.  So I thought I would give it a shot.

 

Sunday, I was searching YouTube for a  song I heard the other night.  It’s a moving love song by Little Big Town.  To me, it defined what I think of when I think of love.  It’s called That’s Where I’ll Be, and it’s about the willingness of a person to go where ever it is their lover has gone.  Along the way I ran across this amazing song writer and singers videos.  chestersee has a talent for putting passion into his songs.  I was floored by a couple of his songs, and just had to share them with everyone.

Of course I also found the song I was originally looking for. 

The thing about music, is there’s always a friend for any mood, a companion for all occasions.  Music, as they say, sooths the savage beast, call’s the lost soul home, and keeps the evil spirits at bay.


Musical Monday

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Déjà Vu

Femme Death

Here’s a new Fiction Friday for you, I hope you enjoy it.

 

Have you ever had that feeling that you had already been some where or done something.  It’s a strange feeling when you just know that your experiencing something a second or third time, yet can’t remember the “happening”.  I have often wondered if it was not a form of a second chance.  Perhaps a way for you to re-do something but choose a different method.  Or maybe because Lady Death is a fickle entity, she just decides you deserve that special opportunity to try again.  Perhaps she happens to be is a particularly good mood at that moment.  She gives a Déjà Vu as a form of warning.    The following is a fictional story about just that.

 

The subtle rumble of exhaust, not loud and obnoxious, but the kind that just hints at the power hidden under the hood.  It was the comfortable sure sound of a well tuned truck.  one of the things that gave Chase his sense of being.  A companion for the ride home from a long days work.  The sun setting on the horizon, creating a  red and vibrant evening sky.  He turned into the Sunny Quick Stop connivance store, the desire for a cold refreshing Shinner Bock spurring the decision.

 

Chase stepped out of the air conditioned cab, stretching after the long drive, it had been a strenuous day.   He walked towards the double doors of the store, when suddenly he felt like his hand had something warm, wet, and sticky on it.  He paused and held his hands out in front of himself, examining them for the offending substance.  Finding nothing, he was struck with the feeling that he had been here before.  Not just at the store, for he stopped there often during the week, but in that particular moment in time, or event.    Searching his memory, trying  to put a stamp of recognition on the moment.   He shrugged his shoulders after a failure to associate that moment with a specific memory, and walked on in, rubbing his hand on his pant leg. 

 

As he walked past the register, he greeted the store keeper, “Hey Sam, how's it going tonight”.  Sam mumbled some strange thought, Chase didn’t quite catch it.  Oh well, I’ll figure it out when I pay, he thought to himself.  As he walked toward the beer cooler, he faintly smelled an unusual odor.  The smell was faintly familiar, but he was having trouble placing it.   Chase grabbed a six pack of Shinner Light, and turned to head for the register. 

 

Someone came in slamming the door open, and started yelling, “Give me the money, and don’t fuck around asshole”.  Chase saw a man at the register, wearing  a stocking over his head, making for an almost comical appearance.  What was not comical at all was the gun he pointed at Sam, a blued steel revolver… serious indeed.  Oh shit, that’s the smell, cordite, sulfur… burnt gunpowder.

 

Chase didn’t even stop to think, he stumbled forward, acting drunk until he was near the register.  He plopped his six-pack down on the counter, and slurred a few words about paying for the beer.  The robber, shocked at the intrusion, said “What the hell do you think your doing buster” swinging the gun toward Chase.  It was the distraction Chase wanted, and he moved quickly.   He spun towards the robber, bringing his left hand down on the barrel of the pistol, while simultaneously swinging his right forearm up under the robbers wrist.   The action allowed Chase to strip the gun from the robbers hand.  However, Chase had acted so fast, he was unable to grip the barrel, and control the gun.  As the weapon spun out of the robbers hand, the trigger caught on his finger, causing it to fire.  The round blasted off in an unknown direction, as the weapon clattered to the floor.  

 

Chase gripped the robbers wrist and took a step backward, spinning away from him.   Pulling the robbers arm into Chase’s stomach as he did so, caused the robber to be thrown around, and to the floor.  Chase kept hold of the robbers arm as he went sprawling out on the floor.  He then moved quickly to kneel down on the robbers back, one knee on either side of the robbers arm, effectively pinning the man to the floor.   Holding the mans arm straight out and up with the wrist bent over and pulled down in a modified wrist lock to prevent any movement.  Chase said “Sam call 911, tell the police I’ll hold him until they get here.”  Chase felt a throbbing, irritating pain in his side.  Assuming he pulled a muscle, he pushed the thought from his mind, concentrating on keeping the man pinned.

 

Sam struggled to regain his composure, and made the phone call.  Sam was breathing hard, shaking all over, he could feel his heart thrumming in his chest.  He couldn’t believe the how fast everything had happened.  One moment, the man was pointing his gun at him, and the next he was splayed out on the floor, face down.  Every person observes an intense incident differently, some see everything with clarity, and some hear everything with a heightened awareness.  Sam was one that seemed to see everything but hear nothing.  He remembered seeing a flash of light, but didn’t hear the gunshot, so he never associated it as a gunshot. 

 

It seemed like no time at all before the police showed up.  They came in weapons drawn unsure what to expect.  Upon seeing Chase with the robber pinned on the floor, they quickly went about the procedures of taking over control of the man from Chase.  The the simple process of handcuffing the man and patting him down for weapons.  Chase meanwhile place $7.50 on the counter, and grabbed his beer, walking out the door unobserved. 

 

As Chase walked toward his truck, he felt a strange weakness overcome him.  There was an unusual wetness covering his side .  Chase reached down and felt a warm, wet, sticky substance cover his hand.  The gunshot had struck Chase in the side, a through and through shot, but one that had struck a major blood vessel.  While keeping the robber pinned, he had squatted in such a position that it blocked the blood from flowing through the wound.  Instead the blood had flowed freely inside his abdominal cavity.  Chase became lightheaded, and his legs failed him for the first time.  Not know what was happening Chase fell to the ground, a darkness encompassing his consciousness.   The last thing Chase saw was a truck pulling in, Dam that looks like my truck

 

The subtle rumble of exhaust, not loud and obnoxious, but the kind that just hints at the power hidden under the hood.  It was the comfortable sure sound of a well tuned truck.  one of the things that gave Chase his sense of being.  A companion for the ride home from a long days work.  The sun setting on the horizon, creating a  red and vibrant evening sky.  He turned into the Sunny Quick Stop connivance store, the desire for a cold refreshing Shinner Bock spurring the decision.

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