Wolf Pack Leprosy: All was Well (almost)!

Since the "elephant man adventure" to the Russian River  - ALL WAS WELL!

My left leg (that had been cut in half a year ago) was fully operational and completely healed.


My arm was out of a cast.





I had graduated from Saint Mark's...didn't know anything - but I graduated.

It was summer and several hippie members of the Insurgent Wolf Pack were inflicted with leprosy... poison oak really.

My dad liked to tell stories and from him we had learned to embellish everything. 

Every story grew upon retelling.  And now the Minions of Venice hippies (my brothers) laid wallowing and writhing in red-blistery, pus-oozing pain at my hands. I was a one man boy Avengers.  


THERE WAS JUSTICE in the world...after-all and Markie D was basking in the sweet aroma of victory.




I had gone Into The Woods a boy and not much has changed other than the fact that I felt like there was stardust in the air and it was as if I could hear angels singing.



I let my blonde bangs grow, went body surfing at 27th Ave with the Blasers and the Lennons and thought about Andrea.

No Pits

             No BBs

                          No Arrows

                                           No cliffs

                                                             No ropes

                                                                               No Templates

                                                                                                         No Electrocutions

                              "What a wonderful world this would be"

Jeffery's mom, Jeanette Lennon, came out and accused me of being too happy (AGAIN).
She made me aware that I was oddly happy.

Too happy?

I don't know.  Maybe?  

Maybe I was. Couldn't tell my family that I felt alone. That would have been ridiculous. Who would believed this about a kid that lived in a big house (full of people) that was the center of universe.

Animal House

We were the crazy family with the run-away rattlesnakes, chuckwallas, iguanas and one alligator!

We had the monkey, the Veloci-rooster, and grew the "Mexican tomato plants" for all of Venice, Santa Monica, Mar Vista and Culver City...

Social-media was my front lawn... and although I lived there - I felt disconnected...abandoned and alone.  I had to fend for myself...feed myself and constantly fight the heinous hippy hoards.



























Weirdly too happy.  

Maybe I was retarded. My psyche was crushed by the continual betrayals and I knew that I had no right to be this happy. I couldn't explain it.  Hope?







Even though I felt like damaged goods I felt protected by the universe... like something up there had its hand on me... in a guardian-angel-kind-of-way...  I could sense a ray of light...  "Love?"


"Love" was a word we had no use for in my house. I had never heard it used by a parent or by a brother or sister. I had heard other four letter words, but not this this one.

I longed that one day a member of my family would look me in the eye (mom or dad - anyone) and use the "L word."


If not someone inside - then maybe it would come from someone outside... A girl? Andrea? Anyone?

I had learned all about God from the nuns at Saint Marks and yet knew nothing about Him. Was He real? Could I reach out and touch Him? Could I know Him...or at least ... would He allow an orphan like me to feel what it means to be loved.

Lost and numb, (trying to make contact) I stepped onto the makeshift stage on the front lawn of the Harding house and danced in the flood-lights.

I sang all the "Pizza Pizza Daddio" songs with Mimi Lennon and Mary and Theresa Blaser and Darleen Tripp.

 "Theresa, has a boyfriend. Pizza Pizza. Daddio"
        "Who told you? Pizza Pizza Daddio"
"You told me Pizza Pizza... Now shake it!"

 ... and "shake it" I did ... as I danced and sang for the summer night shows we put on for the whole neighborhood.


We danced
We body-surfed
We ate potato-chips with sand in them...

Saint Monica's here I come...

Then we heard the news about the bloody hand-print and the arrest for murder....

Next time... THE VENICE MURDERERS IN HUMBOLDT!  You can take us out of Venice, but you can't take the Venice out of us...                          (it's all true).

  

Kid in a Pit! And a Water Hose?

Hands and feet bound in a rope, I was buried in the backyard up to my neck.  I was thankful to have them build a concrete-block igloo around me so that the Veloci-Raptor couldn't gouge out my eyeballs. But when the plastic yellow tarp came out.... I freaked.  No tears (it was the Viking code)... but I screamed and pleaded for help wondering if they had plans to suffocate me.

I hoped one of the hippy chicks would find compassion in their heart and stop the boys - but their silence equated to complicity in the crime.

I was pretty sure my bothers and their commie-gang wanted me to die...maybe because I made it back alive from Salton Sea (5/13/13) and they really did have a "plan" for family downsizing... Murder!

The decroded, rust-stained, smelly old tarp was thrown over opening of the top of the "Igloo of Death" and that was when the water hose came out.

A WATER HOSE?

We had no use for a water hose other then for the precious "Mexican Tomato Plants" the boys were secretly growing in the far corner of  backyard - patrolled by the notorious Rooster - known throughout Venice as the Veloci-Raptor!

What good was a watering hose for when we didn't have lawn in our gigantic backyard - only weeds and an abandon tear-drop trailer.. several boats... a couple cannibalized cars...petrified tires... putrefied spark plugs and carburetors on the way to becoming one with the earth.

What are you going to do, "water old spark plugs and car tires and get a new Ford?" NO! There was no reason for the Water Hose. It just kept getting worst... AND I WAS SCARED!

"Help...somebody! Help the kid in a pit," I screamed into the deaf atmosphere.

A Powerful Video about Family, Life and Love!

Amazing Shadow Performance of Life, Loss, and Love 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOZS_Vq6eKw 

Click on one of the links above and be utterly amazed and moved by the stages of life - dramatized by ATTRACTION! You only need to watch 2:20 seconds to feel the preciousness of life and deep connections of family unfold before your very eyes.


I can sit back and say... If only!  If only my crazy family was more functional... If only we weren't so lost or broken or angry or alone. If only my family was more like the one on display here or more like the Lennons, then everything in my world would be okay too. If only!  If only I wasn't left behind at Salton Sea. If only my brothers hadn't shoved in in that hamper or if only they hadn't thrown me over a cliff - If only?


What I have discovered about the world is that things do tend to be a bit "Helter-Skelter." Trains and taxis and planes don't always arrive on time - according to schedule. Life seems to be full of interruptions, inconveniences and people who seem to let us down. Things just don't always work out the way we want them to and rarely happen according to our schedule. Why we cannot control the behavior of others...the words of others...the actions of others? What can I do to control those who have hurt us so badly? How do I fix my parents, my childhood, my past? How can I put the train wreck of my circumstances or my family back on track?

As parents we ask, How do I get my  kids "righted" before they veer off the track into self destruction? What have I done wrong? What could I have done better?


Why don't my parents, my family, my children, my siblings - why don't things always turn out the way I dreamed or want them to?

Since we were wired, designed and built for intimate connections, we grieve and hurt deep within the psyche of our human chemistry when we are betrayed, hurt, and back-stabbed with an ache that longs for people to treat us properly and for everything to be right in the world.

The only thing we can do in those moments of angst and anger is to take a deep breath and look up! There is nothing in this world that will satisfy this longing in the inner workings of the three components that make up the fullness of who we are.  We recognizes injustice, hurt, pain, loss and rightly grieve over these things.

To care about racial injustice or social ills - tells us that we were built with a component that longs for justice.

                                                 Justice demands Truth
                                                        Truth matters!  That's why we hate it when people lie

To care and grieve over the loss of a loved-one, shows us that death upsets us, as though groping for "life" was intrinsically wired into our DNA.

Maybe this concept of "life' is not as meaningless or as fleeting as some may suggest.

To see the world in its present state of corruption, violence and chaos, tells us that we are able to see things as wrong that we desire to set right.

To feel betrayed, upsets our concept of being loved.

To feel hurt by others, shows that we were wired for deep connections.

As humans we long for deep connections, we desire justice and want to know truth... We desperately seek to be loved and need to feel accepted.  We are wired to dream and yet live in such a fragile state of having our dreams constantly coming off the rails.

DREAM

BELIEVE

Every time something goes wrong, every time we're crushed, at every set back, at every disappointment - in every hurt and in searing loss - know that it is an invitation to draw nearer and more intimate with the ultimate Truth and source of true justice. Take heart and know that in every failed dream, in every broken relationship there is THAT INVITATION from the One true relationship that will never fail... that always accepts us just the way we are... a relationship we can trust with One who will never abandon us... forsake us and will LOVE YOU just for who you are - with no strings attached.


This life will be filled with "If Only's" to show you were not meant for fleeting superficiality...but wired for eternity and for something so much more than this life has to offer! 

Things may look Helter Skelter, but True Love conquers...it frees and it heals!

for you Android people here is the link (below)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--i9i7xlw1Y

A Miracle: Baby Flushed Down Sewer Miraculously Survives

A tribute that life is special and an encouragement to any of us who has ever felt left behind... abandoned.... betrayed!

There is evil in the world... Bad People and Bad Parents do exist! Most parents, however, do try hard. Most mothers will do just about anything to protect and care for their children, because they are wired and designed as nurturers. Therefore, when we come across something as egregious as this, it upsets something in us. We universally recognize that something is wrong which upsets our built-in justice sensors and the moral code that is written in our heart.

When something like this happens, we must never blame the child or make them feel any less human or any less worthy of our acceptance and love.  It is not your fault.. you are not a piece of refuge to be thrown away.  God does see it that way and neither should we.

YOU ARE STILL VERY PRECIOUS TO GOD.  You are special, unique, and worthy of all the attention of God's perfect love.  You are accepted by Him, regardless of background, color or religion. Irregardless of your past failings, shortcomings and your sin... He relentlessly peruses you with His Divine Love.

His Mercy...His Grace...His Acceptance...and His Forgiveness is available to all...because all of us ARE SPECIAL TO HIM!

Whoever you are, where ever you've been, whatever you've done - He loves you, accepts you and freely opens His arms to you... KNOW THAT YOU ARE LOVED above all things in the Universe!

Part 5 The TRAGIC TALE: Twilight Saga of Biblical Proportions

Did you ever have a life defining moment when things just didn't seem to go your way.  When searing pain and bitter disappointment seemed to build a nest in your heart. Those times when you feel let down or stabbed in the back by someone close whether a parent, a spouse, a brother, a sister, or a best friend. Why do those wounds seem to be the worst, as if a dagger had been plunged into your heart and irreparably ripped open. Why do these particular wounds feel like it may take forever to heal? I think the reason things like betrayal, abandonment and wounds (especially from those close to us) hurt so bad is because we were created for close connections. We were designed and wired for close intimate relationships and have this expectation that love will protect and that love is forever. What a crushing blow to discover that as humans we are fickle and committed more to the protection of self at any cost, than the tremendous cost that true love demands... 

Since we live in this tension of constantly being let down, I guess as humans, we have to figure out how to cope with disappointments and where to turn for healing for these lingering wounds... Perhaps this is why some of the deepest scares are those bore by children, because their emotional capacity is not yet developed to handle abuse, cruelty and exploitation at the hands of those they placed so much trust.

Yep, kids are especially fragile.

It was hot and dry at Salton Sea, but an invisible tornado of emotional destruction was headed towards the Marina as the Dahlins prepared to depart their 4 inglorious days of camping. The boys were fighting for places in the car, Mrs. D was yelling, "Under pain of mortal sin" beckoning all those that couldn't squeeze into the Dodge to join her and the girls to experience another three hours of "Shake 'N Bake" in the dreaded  trailer. Meanwhile, Dooh-Dooh Pants was intentionally passing gas as a means of terrorism that instigated a fight among the Wolf Pack as hot sweaty bodies pressed up against windows in the over-packed station wagon.

Meanwhile, Markie D happily bounded out the Diner with his red Popsicle. The four ounces of liquid and sugar would probably help him survive the terrible ride home bouncing around in the the hot trailer among the junk and gas fumes.

With both eyes focused on his ice-cold Popsicle, Markie D reached up and grabbed the handle of the trailer (that he was forced to ride in by his older brothers).

NOTHING! He grabbed nothing, but a fist full of air. The trailer had vanished! Bam, just as if it had been sucked into the tractor beam of an alien spaceship.  In panic he looked up into the troposphere, but could not see a UFO!
(Now back to first person) 

It was happening...I was begin erased. I looked up and saw the caravan of bodies stuffed in the old Dodge and trailer pulling out of the parking lot. THEY HAD LEFT ME BEHIND! Was this a cruel trick? Did they plan this? Was it a conspiracy to get rid of me? Why did mom let them leave without me?

DIDN'T ANYONE CARE? Was I just refuge like the dirt washed off all those dirty bodies to run waste in the gutter. Not a single lick of my red Popsicle, I ran up the slight incline of the marina onto the two lane highway after my family. They were moving slow, I thought I could catch 'em. I ran as fast as the legs of a 9-year-old could run, but the lights on the back of that trailer got smaller and smaller and smaller. I stood and watched.

This was before the era of 911 and cell phones. I was left to die in the desert. I stood on that hot asphalt and stared at the fading tail lights of my departing family until they had completely disappeared. My world was small and I knew I lived in Venice, but nothing more than that. I was lost, alone and abandoned.

I couldn't take one lick of my red Popsicle as I sadly shuffled back to the staging area - at the curb outside the Diner. I sat on the curb and sorely missed my family - sure that I would never see them again. I wondered if this is what Joseph (in the Bible) felt like when his older brothers and sold him into slavery and left him stranded in the desert. I was sure someone would steal me and I would be held prisoner to a wondering band of Salton-Sea-ites.

I sat on the curb as the melting red dye dripped down my arm and pooled into a puddle of red and dirt next to my feet.  I sat. I sat holding my red stick as though it was the last remaining remnant of my family. I would not let go of my little red Popsicle stick.

I knew one prayer, "The Our Father" but was too choked up to squeese one syllable out of my parched dry lips. I cried and sat as TWILIGHT turned to horrid dusk!  Me and my Popsicle stick and my puddle of red mud that had dripped from my elbow. This was probably the most pathetic sight recorded in the history of the universe. An blonde haired aborigine with one clean red streak that ran from my tight fist of my right hand to tip of my elbow. My heart felt like it was begin squeezed in a vice as I felt my existence fade.

LEFT!
        ALONE!
                  ABANDONED!
                                     FORGOTTEN!

 I wanted to go back to the crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful family that had let all the monkeys out of the zoo.

I sat and cried until I had no more moisture left in my body to produce any more tears... "drenched to the bone." The hardest part, I guess, was that nobody noticed!

 

"The times they are, a changing" 

At least for me they were. 

I reckon that the universal question that we all have to wrap our minds around at some point in our lives is: Why do bad things happen to good people?