Michigan Trip

I have had a few weeks to absorb and reflect on my visit to Michigan. It was not something that I wanted to do necessarily, however it was something that I needed to do. I went back home to Cadillac for the first time since leaving for California without Amy and the boys. I know what you're thinking,,,get over it already! Sorry,,,,I'm trying, when I make a commitment for life I mean it.... Damn those words "for better or for worse, in sickness in and in health". I takes 2 I suppose. I get that ; )

Michigan is now merely a place where I was born. I no longer feel at home there. I am but just a visitor. It’s almost as if the very land that I was raised on has turned her back on me. Let me elaborate on that. My connection with Michigan had always been a deep spiritual connection. A connection that I could always rely on when all else had failed me. Returning this time in June of 2010 was almost a rite of passage. I dealt with the emotions of being another statistic of a failed marriage. I listened to the demons that heckled me with feelings of not being good enough, to all out anger and rage against the one thing that I always held dear to my heart,,,,the sanctity of marriage. The last institution where love, trust and honor can openly and lovingly bare it’s inner most secrets and fears.
Michigan seemed to turn her back on me in a way that only a mother can when trying to let go of a child that needs to face the real world. That same emotion hit me with the realization that marriage is only as good as the partner that you have chosen. I’m not slamming my ex-wife at all. This is just the reality of life anymore. We are a throw away society, if it’s broke, then don’t bother fixing it, you can replace it with someone else and let that run it's course and repeat. Despite the reasons why you got involved in the first place it’s just easier to put it down and move on. Old fashion morals and beliefs are a thing of the past. That's not fair,,,so I'll just say that this is "my take". Words are not just words to me, it goes much deeper than that....
The one thing that is constant is the spirit. Do with it as you will and harm none. Michigan turning her back on me made me realize that Tennessee is now my home.

From the moment that I landed on the tar mat in Grand Rapids something just felt different. More than the sadness I carry in my heart, there was something more tangible in the air. There was a distant welcome that I felt. More primal I suppose than what we as mere humans are familiar with. A mothers love is or should be unchanging. However in a primal sense I think more of how a mother bear or lion may acknowledge it’s own after years of separation. She recognizes the scent, and at some level realizes that this is her cub. Yet, that is all,,,merely acknowledging and allowing it to pass without resistance,,, if that makes any sense?

I was greeted warmly by an old friend at the airport who picked me up and was going to take me to Cadillac. Matt is a wonderful soul and a true friend. We haven’t seen each other in years yet it was like yesterday and we picked up where we left off. We all know people like that,,,these people are the friends by which all other friends are weighed against. Right wrong or indifferent it’s what we do,,,or at least that’s what I do. I don’t personally have a lot of friends, the ones I do have I hold very close and they fit nicely into my world. It’s all about quality,,not quantity. Not to mention the money I save on bullshit cards for birthdays and holiday shit. I've never had room in my life for pretentious ass holes that only want to be your friend for reason only known to them. Sooooooo,,,there you go! I've called out the 3,000# gorilla in the middle of the room!

I saw my parents for the first time in about 4 years? Like I had eluded to earlier, it was hard walking into that house alone. It was like I had made a full circle, the reasons I left Michigan and turned my back on her were all now facing me again, unchanged. Again I say failure, yet I realize that it’s just the way things go. (So please spare me the emails on diagnosis and help for my wounded heart and soul...lol. I’m merely saying it as it happened and how it felt at the “time”.) My Mother saw me roll up into the yard with Matt. She met me on the side walk as I turned around after finding that the front door of the house was locked. She hugged me,,, I was home.
My father soon wandered into the house and found me standing in the hall way. I thought he was going to cry for a second. Step 1 in my recovery had now taken place. The empty void I felt was now replaced with the smiles of 2 people that love me unconditionally. My failures to them mean nothing, I’m their son and that was all that mattered. Now the exorcism of my soul can begin.
My room where I was to sleep still had the pictures from my wedding. That room was like a time capsule, it seemed untouched from the last time I was stayed in there so many years ago with Amy. The images don’t hurt like they used to. It’s odd,,,, in some way the not hurting as much anymore has it’s own sort of pain. It seems to almost split the heart from soul. One longs for the embrace while the other feels sadness for not feeling sadness? If that makes any sense to anyone reading this,,please share your thoughts....

The days moved on, as visited some old friends. Only a few mind you. There was just so many things that I could have done but I just didn’t feel like I needed to or even wanted to. Most vacations end up with racing around trying to make sure that everyone is taken care of and all the right time was spent with the right people,,,blah, blah, blah....
This trip was about me, regardless of how selfish that may sound, if you love me you'll undestand.

I surprised my dear friend Chris by showing up at her house with my mother on Sunday morning. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Chris is one of my dearest friends. She sees me for who I am and loves me just the same. I often avoid people like that during my dark times, because she can see into my soul and will tell me the things that I need to hear,,,yet don’t want to hear or face. Chris and I have an interesting relationship, one that I still can’t put into words.
She had never met my Mother before and for some reason I felt that it was important to do so. It’s people like Chris that I blame my eccentrics on. She along with others have this spirit about them that I look for in people that I’m close to. If you don’t have that spirit, I generally keep you at arms length. Those who get it, well,,,,get it. Those who don’t,,,won’t.

I reconnected with my sister Brenda and spent some time with her kids Brianna and Travis. We had a great time and those 2 kids are in deed something special, I would give my life for them both! My sister has been a constant in my life. She's always open and clear with her intent. She speaks from the heart,,,though long winded it's from the heart and I love her so dearly for that quality.

Although all these great things were happening around me with family and an apparent healing was taking place there was still something dark looming in the back ground. This darkness was again the mother Michigan. God that must sound like I’ve gone off the deep end. I swear to you haven’t (I think). A song comes to mind that I remember from soooo many years ago. The song is " Stranger in a strange land", by Iron Maiden.

Was many years ago that I left home and came this way
I was a young man, full of hopes and dreams
But now it seems to me that all is lost and nothing gained
Sometimes things ain't what they seem

No brave new world, no brave new world
No brave new world, no brave new world

Night and day I scan horizon, sea and sky
My spirit wanders endlessly
Until the day when dawn and friends from home discover why
Hear me calling, rescue me

Set me free, set me free
Lost in this place and leave no trace

Stranger in a strange land
Land of ice and snow
Trapped inside this prison
Lost and far from home

One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way
To find the answer to the mystery
They found his body lying where it fell on that day
Preserved in time for all to see

No brave new world, no brave new world
Lost in this place and leave no trace

What became of the man that started
All are gone and their souls departed
Left me here in this place
So all alone

Stranger in a strange land
Land of ice and snow
Trapped inside this prison
Lost and far from home

What became of the man that started
All are gone and their souls departed
Left me here in this place
So all alone

What’s funny is that this Iron Maiden song is a song that I remembered from years ago back in high school. It had a haunting feeling then. I remembered thinking to my self that this sums up my emotions and knowing that I need to leave Michigan. I didn’t realize then, all those years ago that it would unfold to this? It’s amazing to remember moments from your deep past and to see them play out so many years later. Music can be magical if you just pay attention to it’s influence.

The “Michigan turning her back on her son” thought came to me on my way to Pauls place of rest, the place where Paul Sr., Nadea, Pauls Mom and myself went to spread his ashes.
I used to spend so much time out there when I was still living in Michigan. Poured out many Guinness extra stouts out there and consumed even more with my fallen brother.
Let’s rewind a bit shall we.

I was out just driving around Cadillac. Every god damn corner, building and house seemed to hold a memory for me. These memories just continued to remind me of my losses and how entangled my heart was in this god forsaken town. It was then that things started to come clear to me. I’m 41 and this isn’t my home. I don’t want to be here and the demons of my past need to throw their god damn party and move on! I thought I would go to that one place, though it will make me sad and cry.
It is none the less a place where I can let my damaged guard down and just be myself and let it all out. This place is where Paul’s ashes were spread. All the way there I kept on getting this flood of emotions, sadness, anxiety, joy and then dread. As I approached, it hit me. I was not welcomed here. It made no sense at first. I drove up to the farm house and as the dogs barked, I realized.....Paul’s not he re anymore. Now what? The connection I felt with this land was gone? The land that held Paul's ashes is now barren? I guess that makes sense? Full circle has come, Ashes to ashes.....
I don’t know if Paul was my last connection here or what? I left him years ago to be with Amy and the boys. It was like his influence on me to “just do what my heart told me” to do had now played out. He can move on, now so can I.

In loving memory of Paul Gene Fuzi II

Merry Part, Till We Marry Meet Again...

~A

The birthday ride

This year I decided to celebrate my birthday with a 41 mile ride on my mountain bike. I mile for every frikin year that I am old..... WTH was I thinking? Anyone who has ever been into racing bikes knows,,, once it's in your blood there is no saving you.
Biking for me has been an escape, it's just me and my bike, "I" decide where I am going, how far and for how long. Only "I" can determine the limits of this ride.

Sunday morning I woke up early and was just feeling like,,,well,,, I could just go back to sleep. After all it was my birthday, I'm now alone, so I can do what I want, when I want. I had every reason not to ride. I drank a few too many beers the night before, my neck was hurting, my knee was having sharp pains if I put weight on it. I woke up feeling kind of sad. Birthdays for me are generally non events. It falls at the end of the month and on a holiday. So generally I just get a few token "happy birthdays" and that's about it. Don't get me wrong I'm not an it's all about "me" person. I go out of my way for others on their birthdays because to me a birthday is much more special and individual than lets say....X-mas. So on top of that I was missing my wife ( now ex ) and kids. So going back to sleep was looking better and better.

Then it hit me. WTF are you thinking, you said to yourself that you were going to do this,,,so get the fuck up and do it. Then all the guilt hit me. I thought about the people that can't do what I do. The cancer fighters, fallen loved ones,,,,,etc..... Then I thought about Lance Armstrong and what he endured. Then I thought about my Aunt Pauline and how she lost her fight with cancer. I thought about the people that I loved and whether they knew about my ride or not, how could I say one thing and do the other? I was tired of letting people down and paying the price with that lonely empty feeling. Needless to say,,I got up and made breakfast.

I was on the road by 7:20 a.m. I was making this adventure on my Cannondale F3 Caffeine mountain bike. I headed out onto Liberty Pike just outside of my apartment. I was en route to downtown Franklin,Tn. by which I would then pick up on hwy 96 and head out towards the Natchez trace. The first few miles for me is always a mind game. I had my computer set up so that I could monitor my mileage. 41 miles on pavement on a mountain bike has it's challenges, add to that watching the miles click along. I was impressed after the first few minutes of riding of how strong I suddenly felt. Maybe it was the purpose or intent of my ride that fired me up, don't know?
I managed to set a high pace up Liberty of 26 mph until the incline at which I dropped a few gears and spun up it at around 18 to 20 mph. I continued onto Franklin. In what seemed like no time at all I was on Hwy 96. Now was time to focus I stopped counting down the miles now, I gave into the fact that I had a ways to go and that I would do the math later when I made it to the Natchez trace bridge. My intention was to go 20.5 miles out and come back,,,that would give me the 41 miles I was after.

I was close to 8:00 a.m. now and I had settled into a comfortable pace in my big ring. It is now that the mind, body and bike start to operate as one. I was actually having a bit of a outer body experience at this time. Outer body as in I was analyzing my every motion, completely removed from self. It was almost like a helmet cam was being used. I felt nothing I was only seeing the motion being set forth by this guy on a bike. Weird shit I know. This is how I've always managed myself when I was in training for big races. In the big races if I could separate myself from the riders and race just me,,, I would be fine. All this pain, all this shit we cyclist put ourselves through is pushed by "self" and no one else.
So there I was looking over me and seeing how strong I was, seeing the road pass under my front wheel, hearing the power in each pedal stroke, scanning the horizon for targets or obstacles, then looking at that little fucking arrow on the computer that is telling me whether or not I'm on pace. The arrow should always show you on pace or above,,, below pace and my mind starts doing the math of what I have to do to make up for the lost pace and time.
As I ride I seldom take in a lot of the scenery, it proves to be a distraction. However I did take notice of some beautiful farmland and meadows. I then started to notice the scars left behind from the floods that we had in the beginning of May. As I rode past trees that grew near the road in the ditch about 1/2 mile away from the Harpeth river, I noticed that there was evidence of mud on the leafs that would be about 7 foot up from the ground. Holy shit I thought as I road along side these mighty survivors of the rain. 3 plus weeks ago I would not have been able to ride here because the water would have been over my shoulders deep! We ain't in Kansas no more, this place got hit by a lot of water in a few days time.

Alone, I pedal as the long climb ahead starts to show it's self through the hills of Tennessee. Much like a monster that you know is there, lurking, ready to pounce at you,,,, will I be ready?
I made a mental decision to reserve my energy while taking of the last bit of momentum I had with the slight decline heading into the hills. I grabbed a higher gear and picked up my pace to about 23 Mph, almost as if growling back at the hills. It may seem odd that reserve is going faster, but what happens is that by grabbing a bigger gear on a down hill and just pedaling with it you gain speed and increase blood flow to your legs with out having to push em hard. I think of it as a kind of purging thing. I do this to get rid of any lactic acid build up, I take long slow breaths to optimize oxygen intake allowing more blood to absorb more oxygen.

Then I can feel the hill's embrace as my legs start to push with resistance, I drop a gear, then another I find a good gear and pace and prepare for the climb. The hardest thing about this climb is, I've only ever known it from the seat of my car. Never before on a bike. This is the head game that you play with the hill, you just ride blindly, you know nothing of attack points, or breaks in the incline,,,hell I couldn't even see the top of the hill because it snaked around the 2 peaks at the top, for all I could remember there was more hill after that!

Then it happened! As I scanned the road, then my computer then back to the horizon I saw a road biker. At that moment a primal cyclist emotion kicked in ( only a cyclist truly knows this feeling ). I went into "predator mode". I hate this about me, but it does serve a purpose and as long as your not a dick I think it's o.k. From years of racing your mind is conditioned to win. All I know is, "there is someone ahead of me", I can't win if they stay ahead of me. However, I'm on a mountain bike. I'm riding in the world of "the roadies". As most know there has always been sort of a animosity between mountain and road, each thinks their sport is harder. Sooooo with that being said predator mode is not always welcomed by all. Let me explain.

As soon as I saw another rider ahead of me my pace instantly quickens. This bike was about 1/2 a mile of head of me and about half way up the first big climb. It wasn't going to be easy but I was going to give it a try. Still in the big ring and somewhere in the middle of my rear cogs I picked up the pace, I started a spin regimen and focused on my pace. As I got closer I could see the riders cadence and I started matching my pace to hers. I know what your thinking,,,, taking down a girl in a blaze of glory? I have had my ass handed to me by many woman in both mountain biking and road riding. All bets are off on the pavement,,, this is my birthday ride...lol
Anyway this method is what allows me to understand what is going on ahead of me. When I stare and match pace with bike ahead of me I get into that persons mind. You can monitor them and actually see faults in their riding, you can tell if they are seasoned or a newby, are they getting tired all of this shows in their form. This one was holding her own, I quicken my pace and started to close up the gap. I'm moving at about 15 mph up this long hill, my pace is about twice that of hers. As I approach I really try to be cool about catching a road bike on a long hill while saddled up on a mountain bike. I smile and say hello. I think she grimaced at me,,,not sure. I pull away from her fast and finish the climb about 1/4 mile ahead her. It's all down hill now to the Natchez trail bridge. I grabbed all my gears and pick up the pace to about 34 mph. I then let back on my pace and just enjoyed some free wheel cruising while sitting up on my seat and riding no handed. The fallen road biker has caught back up and is just behind me, I brake and let her pass. I then fell in behind her because we were both heading to the same place. She turned off the 96 and onto the ramp going up even more to the Natchez Trace bridge. Her friends were there waiting for her, I knew in my mind that I couldn't let off yet, they may start the chase on me and I refused to be passed on this final climb by anyone! My paranoia got me up the this last steep ass hill with no challenges. My rest area is about 1 mile up and across the bridge! (The picture above was taken upon my arrival)

I hung there for about a half an hour. In that time I met some really nice folks that were passing through on their bikes, we chatted had some laughs and we all went our separate ways. Alone again I thought. It's just me, my bike and my dirty thoughts. I got some riding to do. This leg of my birthday tour was about 14 miles. I'll be at 28 when I roll back into Franklin I'll have to find another 13 miles on the way back.

The ride back was good until the heat started to play into things. When I left on this adventure it was 71 degrees and 97% humidity. Shouldn't it be raining I thought? The sky was too tight I laughed to myself.
Now on the way back I realized that I must of had that slight wind to my face although I really didn't notice it much. A slight wind to your back is nice for speed but often you loose the cooling affect of the headwind as you match the speed of the wind.
Head winds on road bikes is just the way it is,,,it's been my experience that no matter what way you are riding, the wind is blowing in your direction.
Anyway,,,,, the ride back I found that there were a lot of what I call "dead spots"in the air. These are areas where there is no wind, just a pocket or bubble of heat or cold. Unfortunately for me these were bubbles of heat. Along with the humidity it was like being in a fucking oven! Sweat doesn't dry in these conditions, so the effect of sweat drying and cooling is no longer a factor, it was hell. after about a mile or 2 of this I got a head wind! Normally I curse at these breaths of air,,,but not this time it was welcomed, my head was pulsing with every pedal stroke. I was amazed at how strong I still was but the heat was taking it's toll on my brain. The mind game that is riding is about to change.

It was at about the 26 mile mark that my mind started to wander. Heading back the way I came, I found myself not so much thinking like a machine but like a human,,,a weak human with a lot of fucking baggage! None the less these negative thoughts will kill a riders drive faster than falling off their cleats! My mind wandered into missing my wife and kids, then dreading shit that was coming up, bills, Michigan trip, my turning 41 and starting over again with nothing but a fucking air mattress and some guitars. Then as that dread came over me I felt my heart hesitate. God dammit I thought, I cursed the very fibers that made up the muscles in my body. Bad Fucking Genes I thought aloud! My mind started playing head games with my body. I could feel my pulse in head stronger than ever. I even thought,, I could have a fucking stroke right now and probably die, that is if my heart doesn't blow up first. My heart was beating strong, then it would hesitate, that hesitation causes a filling up sensation in your chest, it almost makes me dizzy. It seems to happen when I get stressed. It's always been something that I watched back in my racing days. I felt anxious, kind of out of control of my situation. Then just like the predator mode kicked in when I saw a rider ahead of me, something else kicked in an almost a sense of "knowing", knowing that I would be all right if I just took control of the situation. I gathered my thoughts and focused again, my heart settled down, my legs back under me I push up the hill. I remember coming to a sort of "reckoning" of my situation. I thought well if today is my day,,,then it's a good day to die. I'm not being morbid or anything I just came to be, to be o.k. with my the results of my day regardless. I was out doing what I said I would do. How often have you said or heard others say "or I'll die trying". Well this day I fight and I was o.k. with dying if that was the way this story was to end. I always thought I would die surrounded by my wife and family or on my bike. Well,, wife is no longer and I have no family here,,,so the bike it is. ;)

I now had a new meaning and focus. I reeled in my thoughts and focused on how fresh my legs still were. I pushed hard, really hard. Blew back into Franklin made my rounds downtown and headed back out for the last 9 or 10 miles. I did some long hills on the 431 cut across the 65 and ran up the back side of Carothers st. then past my home on Liberty pk and back into the hill loops I just left. I was again on hwy 96 this time heading north(ish) long sweeping hills with pay out of downhill at the top. I was feeling a burn in my legs. This feeling I have not felt in years if ever. I was about to loose my legs, they felt like they were ready to burst when I stopped pedaling, they felt weak if I pushed em. It made no sense to me, my stomach felt fine, my heart and lungs were strong I didn't feel like I was going to "bonk". Yet my legs were going to be my undoing? As I rolled onto Coolsprings blvd it was a down hill, so I was able to push up to about 26 Mph. The hill gave way to a long, shitty, hot climb! Then it happened,,,my legs were done! I pushed, and there was nothing they gave up I was done! I rolled up onto the side walk and stopped at a shade tree and dismounted my bike. After all the shit I just went through, all the big climbs I'm now done here? You gotta be shittin me! I could hardly stand, sitting down was as painful standing I could not get comfortable. I only brought 1 pack of "GU" with me and I consumed that back about 5 miles ago. I had water and that was it. My hands were too weak to rub my hurting legs. All the blood was somewhere but not in my legs or so it seemed,,,my legs were whiter than normal at this moment. I lay thinking ready to give up. A voice in my mind said "quitter's mind", why do you have to be that guy? You think you know suffering? Yet here it is, right in your face and your throwing in the towel now? I thought back,,, I road 9.5 miles yesterday I could just add that to my goal and be there. Or I could go home rest and eat, then go out later for the last bit of this ride. It's only about 6 miles. My computer showed that I had riden 36 miles and some change. So tired my brain struggled with the math. "It's 5 miles you fuck! Get you ass on that bike and ride. If not for yourself, then do it for those who can't. How many sick people are out there who would give anything to be healthy enough to feel the pain you are feeling right now, instead of feeling the pain of their own illness. You have no reason to not ride, you've gone 36 miles, to quit now, would be bullshit. Finish something,,,finish this"!

I knew I had to finish this, or die trying. I asked myself was I still o.k. with that outcome. I was, this I was certain of. I gathered my thoughts and try to figure out how was I going to get this done. Ride smart I suppose. My goal was to finish this 41 miles. Now how am I going to accomplish this? Legs still hurting but not like they were I got back on my bike. This time it was personal. I got this far with strength and some coaching from within. However now at 36 miles my body/ legs were failing me. Now the mind game really begins. Push past the pain, pain is temporary, regret is forever. I did not come this far to turn back now. Instead of measuring success by miles and speed. It's now yards, each yard is one less yard to go, I was looking at cracks in the sidewalk as point goals, trees and the alike, all point goals. This fucking long hill will not stop me today. It has never stopped me before this moment and I will not give in today either. I found a missing formula to my riding,,, "spinning". All day I was in my big gear and just moving around within the 9 gears on the rear. I started this climb using my middle ring, speed wasn't the order of the day now, surviving was. I had not the legs to muscle my way up this hill in the big ring I needed to ride smart now. I had mentioned earlier that I would spin to get rid of lactic acid build up. Well duh! That's what I needed to be doing now, once I picked a lower gear ratio and was getting more spin and wasn't focused as much on how far each pedal stroke would carry my bike, the ride became better, smarter even. My legs through spinning and moderate exertion were coming back. Oh they hurt, but I was going make it, I knew it. I believed again, that was all I needed.

I finished out the ride feeling soar but rewarded beyond words. I have my demons I know this,,, however I left some of them behind in the heat and hills of Central Tennessee on Sunday.

Love and light...
Allen

Esoteric foot cramps

Thought this title would make for an interesting "search". Esoterica, esoterical, eso-this and that.... New catch phrase for a struggling field. Paranormal has been beaten to death and regurgatated so much that renaming it might be just what the doctor ordered?

Where do I begin with this one? I've grown up with weird shit going on all around me and it was just normal until I was told by a friend "how fucked up that is". Shadow people and Sasquatch was just part of living in Northern Michigan. We knew where not to go at what time of day. It was really no different than a kid growing up in the city who was told by his parents to not even try to cross main street at 5:00 p.m. We were told not to be in the woods after dark and if those things show up in your room again tonight, use this flashlight and they will go away. Simple rules to live by, or so I thought. I will one day soon start from the beginning and try to explain to the best of my ability what is was like being me as a child to present day. This is just a peek and really,,, just me getting my feet wet in the Blog thing. Never thought I would do this, but I need a vent and I refuse to get back on facebook or myspace....more on that later! Sooooooo,,,,,,,,,,,anyway.

Enter the age of technology,,, the PODCAST! I've learned over the years that I'm not alone in this world. People outside of my family that I don't even know have been seeing the same shit that I have! "You're kidding me" I thought to myself. So, I like many submersed myself in this shit,,,, everything I could get on my iPod, I did. Mysterious universe was my first podcast about 5 years ago now. I then found The Paracast, EERIE Radio, Simply Sasquatch, Bigfoot, Paratopia. I found myself talking to others, sharing my stories and encounters with any forum that would listen. I probably over did it,,,, but due to my compulsive nature it's all or nothing. I've since then learned that this is a very sensitive field to say the least. You don't want to come across as somebody that claims to have answers ( which I don't ) nor do you want to be a know it all,,, that is better left up to those who "do" know it all.... ( that was a jab ). Everyone wants to be heard, everyone wants to be different or special. There are seats on the bus for those kids. Everyone once in awhile you find someone that has a story that is so eerily like your own it seems to good to be true. More on that later, I'm wandering here.

Through out the years it just seemed like everyone was just throwing shit left and right, the more people that listened the better. MORE, MORE, MORE..... what a hungry bunch we are in the field of paranormal. Then when the attention was achieved,,,, people started reeling back, now there are to many people at this party. It was becoming some what like a cult. Everyone seemed to have their favorites or that which the subscribed to. A "belief" if you will that fit into their little piece of the world. Did I mention Cult?
It was crazy,,,it was like a drama filled soap opera. From my angle my days started revolving keeping in touch with the field. I had my podcast lined up for the entire week. I had my days planned out mostly Wednesday nights to watch UFO hunters, Destination truth and ghost hunters. Fridays were great for playing the drinking game while watching ghost adventures. Everytime dip shit said "dude" you drank. Had a good buzz going generally by the half way point of the show.....

I know, I know, UFO hunters? Ghost hunters,,,,DT? Well.... it's like this I'm a big boy now, I know bullshit when I see it, I also know what I've seen. These shows are "entertainment" however there are grains of truth that can be seen and studied. It's kind of like keeping up what going on in a not so good friends life. You know? You watch it, you grumble and bitch about things that are incorrect and so on. That helped me realize what I knew and how I stood on certain things. God knows all the forums on the paranormal were picking this shit apart. Which for me is why I would watch it because I wanted to know what the hype was about. I don't have time to lock myself up in my house and read every book on the subject known to man. Again like I said earlier.... " I know what I've seen". Everything else to me is just "comparative". If it's disinformation then I want to witness it. I want to see if I can hold my own here, I've seen things on these show that seemed believable and then found out the rest of the story. I can admit when I'm wrong, it's a good thing. I work with 37 other people Monday through Friday. Some have the same interest, most watch these show with an innocent mind. So I watch these shows, research the forums sort the corn from the shit if you will and when the subject comes up, I can explain to them better what is really being said or not said. You see?

What happens now is you get on the forums and we all know that guy,,,the guy that has 20,000 post and has been a member for 3 years! Yep a real fuckin' expert here. This guy has the answers and is ( to their credit ) fucking book smart. These people have dates, times and events memorized. If someone doesn't bring up something in a post that he/she can elaborate on. This person will cleverly put something in that sets the stage up. The fish bite and this giant turd rolls up his/her sleeves and lets it all hang out...... douche bag! ; ) That may be a little harsh, I'm not taking away from this persons knowledge, I just question the intent. It's sometimes a rehearsed comment waiting for the right trigger.

Well now all this shit has come to a head now. Dave Biedney has left The Paracast. Can't say that I don't blame him. Dave was prickly sometimes, but god damn it the dude knew what he was talking about. Was he always right? Not my place to say. Did I agree with him? Absolutely not, at least not all the time. He told it like it was, for that I respect the man regardless of my own opinions. I feel like his own forums turned on him to a certain degree that however is my own opinion. I will say this much I still listen to The Paracast,,,but it's not the same. I love Gene but I can't help but think the ship is sinking. I hope not, I think The Paracast needs to be around and needs to stay relevant.
Jeff Ritzman,,,another casualty of this field. I use the term loosely here. He just had enough of the shit, and how it consumes your life. He and Dave were great friends and the shit storm between Paratopia and The Paracast caused them a friendship. I think Jeff extended an olive branch out on his departure speech from Paratopia. I hope all is well. I have had the pleasure to talk with Jeff and Jeremy on skype some time ago. Great guys, power house's of knowledge and like myself nothing short of a wealth of "strange shit" in their lives to talk about. A great friendship and bond never happened between us,,,I think there was respect though. I certainly have respect for them. I'm sure they both get their share of copy cats who are looking for a cyber buddy. I know I came out of the gates strong when I heard Jeff's stories. So many of the things I grew up with are identical to what Jeff has talked about. Hell he probably thinks I'm just making shit up. I wish I was. It's all in your presentation and approach I suppose.

Anyway,,, got a little off track. The bottom line is that this phenomenon is out of control, it has taken itself back I think. Maybe things were getting too close for comfort and the trickster if you will shook up the snow globe of anomosity and ran to the hills. I suspect things will have to settle down again and new shit is going to have to move into the light if this is ever to get its legs back. We've all talked about the same shit with just different words for long enough. It's all the same,,, you can lay some taffy, and sprinkles on a turd all you want,,,,it's still a fucking turd!

~A

Whole foods adventure

Understand this first of all. I am not making fun of anyone,,,,well not anyone that doesn't deserve it or,,,well never mind. I'm pissed! I'm almost 41 and I have just zero tolerance for stupidity and people so self absorbed that they don't have the sense to step out of the way of a falling piano! Stupidity should hurt,,,it should hurt like hell!
Ok,,,there was no falling piano, however there was a handful of people in aisle 3 trying to get past some jackass that had to park that little t-rex looking fag basket on wheels that can only be found at Whole foods in the middle of the frik'n aisle. It was just him, that basket and his bewilderment of what type of fuk'n sweetener to buy! When I'm in Kroger's people are polite and will move out of your way,,,hell some even smile at you.

I realized then that the purchase of black strap molasses that I had made earlier at Kroger's was the same damn brand and size as the one here at whole foods, except it cost about a dollar more? Must be better, cuz the hippy's swear by it. Fuk that! ;)

That was just the beginning though, the store was full of idiots, is this what spending shit tons of money for "organic" food does to people? I'm just a regular guy trying to get by. I make a modest pay check and live simple. Whole foods is a great store and the people that work there have always been great. It's kind of like the church/god thing. I've seen bumper stickers that say "it's not your God that scares me,,,it's his followers"! So true is the case here with Whole foods.

All I wanted was a god damn infuser ball for my green tea! Some retarded kid was standing in the middle of that aisle with his finger up his nose ( no shit! I'm serious, digging like it was cool) he was laughing about something? No one seemed to be paying him any attention, I did wonder if he maybe smeared a booger on something? None the less I grabbed my infuser and ran to check out.

I've been around the U.S. over the years, Alaska,New Mexico, Texas, California, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky and now live in Tennessee. It's still makes little sense to me that we as a nation have such a wide gap in our food "quality". If non organic food is so bad,,,WHY THE HELL CAN IT BE SOLD TO CONSUMERS? Farm fresh is no longer the seal of quality, cuz that farm uses some known insecticide that kills what ever the fuck? Yet, go ahead buy that bundle of Broccoli for $1.49 or spend $3.59 for organically grown instead. Which by the way also means you get less? Apparently organic means less mass as well. Farts smell the same, but it must be something that can't smell that is truly worth the extra money.

You shouldn't have to be rich to feed yourself or your family quality food. I hope that if one day I become so fuk'n disconnected from everything around me that someone that cares for me will either put a 30/30 slug in head or at least shake me really good and make me aware that I have fallen to the dark side of self absorbed disconnect.

Other than that,,,I'm good!

~A