| Chapter 09
Early morning visit
A white sanitation truck slowed to a whining halt
along an adjacent street creating an ominous sound so distinctly pitched it
instilled fear in small unsuspecting animals. Animals that were usually
confined to their own private quarters. As it was coming up the block, Mr.
Begaul had decided to take his new dog Pixie for a walk. That was obviously
a mistake for the high strung Chihuahua darted from it in terror! It then
released what sounded to me like a quick burst of compressed air, and that
must have been like a dragon shooting fire at the small creature for it
inexplicably took off and almost snapped its own neck in the process!

If you
take into account that its brain couldn't have been larger than that of a
quarter, maybe then one could understand what kind of torment it must have
been suffering. From where I stood in my room, it looked like he had a
gigantic spider with six legs there on that leash moving about at warp speed and
upon thinking that I immediately shuttered. I do think in all honesty if it
ever got off that leash it would simply run until it dropped dead somewhere.
That's one feisty little bastard, I said aloud in my room to my own
surprise! I pulled the tight screen up with
much difficulty and stuck my head out. Upon doing so, I could see it was
going to be a beautiful day. Pete arrived early for a change and slipped in
through the back door. The time read 8:07 when I heard him surreptitiously
ascending the staircase.
Do my eyes deceive me? Has the afternoon man arrived before twelve O'clock? "Ha-ha, you're a barrel of laughs."
Where we came from calling someone an afternoon man
was sarcasm in its purest form. It meant a person who didn't work, who
stayed up all night long and didn't go to bed until the sun peaked. A person
who didn't arise until after the stroke of twelve and usually wasn't seen until
around three.
I don't think I've ever seen you before twelve O'clock! "You're a pisser man," he said in an almost jovial tone.
"Take a look at what I have here." He pulls a record
out of a folded brown paper bag. It was the new Tull album! "Here check it
out, I picked it up Wednesday in my travels. I like it better than
Stormwatch, but not Songs from the wood." Is it really that good? "Once you
get used to it, it is." The broadsword
and the beast. What's this a satanic album, because if it is, it's going out
the window. "Don't be an asshole, it's not a sa-tanic album!" Shaking
his head in disgust. After further examination, I came to the conclusion
that it had to go. I then pretended the record was a Frisbee and Peter
screamed! "Don't be stupid, it's the last one in the store!!!" I then
started laughing and said, did you really think I was going to wing it? "I
wouldn't put it past you, if that's what you mean."
He then
paused to run his hand through his hair like a comb, and it appeared to me as
though he had gotten so flustered he forgot where he was in the
conversation. Carefully, he picks up my lava lamp from atop
the wooden radiator cabinet and with his back turned toward me begins
speaking to the inanimate object as if it were a gentle thing that could
understand.

"Anyway, it's not one of those albums that's gonna
make you jump up and down. It takes a couple of listens before it starts to
grow on you." In other words, it sucks. (He spins around) "Nah man,
it doesn't fucking suck!" Slamming his fist down upon my dresser like The
Hulk in a heated rage!!! "Now you're just being a
prick!"
Pg 40 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You remember
when I went to summer school at Farrell? The year the first Car's album came
out? I was just a sophomore then, but I can remember saying to myself, I
must have that album!!! After I bought it, I started to hear every single
song from the LP playing on the radio! I'd put it right up there on the
shelf with Dark side of the moon, Spare Parts, and my Rocket to Russia
album!

The more I think about it, the happier I am I went
that year. Even though I rued going with all my heart and soul. "At least
you never got left back. Did it help you at all?" I don't know if it helped
me, but I started smoking pot that year. The pot helped me, I guess. "How so?"
It made me less pragmatic. I'm not sure I knew at the time what the word
pragmatic meant, but I had a pretty good idea and since it was the only word
in the entire English language, I could use to answer Peter's question, I
figured I'd run with it.
Pussy willow I said, referring to song 7 on the
album. What is he singing about a tree? Pete looked at me with an expression
of mild disdain. "You're joking, right?" (I
laugh aloud) I'm screwing with your head man, take it light already!
Where were you yesterday, I questioned? "Yesterday I was just floundering
around. I rode my bike to Tottenville and back. Then I looked for you, but you
weren't around so I hung out with Paul at his house for awhile. We split a
six pack of Kronenbourg and talked for a bit." I bought a six-a-Kronenbourg
last week! No that was Löwenbräu, sorry.

I then removed from my box a wonderfully rolled
pfleuba as we called it that year and proceeded to light it. "How on
earth did you roll it that perfectly?" Well, for starters the pot was
slightly moist, so I nibbled off what remained of the stems and then after
scrapping next to nothing I rolled the buds rather than crumble them. Then I
kept it in my drawer for awhile. This is excellent, said Peter as he toked
away. We passed it around until there was nothing left but a charcoal stem
and two burned fingertips.
The time was now nearing 8:20. He turned the white
plastic knob on my television set and went past each individual station
until he reached channel 13. Mister Rogers' Neighborhood was on, and Fred
was talking in television land. Everything seemed to be a-okay from that
side of the table; where no one ever gets hurt, and pain doesn't seem to
exist. Without warning Pete jumps up and does an astounding imitation of
Fred Rogers while holding his breath. "Speedy delivery Mr. McFeeley.
Speeee-dy delivery!"

I couldn't help but bust out laughing! Look at this
guy, I proclaimed!!! Pete now had his hand covering both eyes and could in
no way stop laughing! What's wrong with you Fred, was all he could muster in
a glassy eyed stupor so pronounced it seemed he could not catch his
breath!
Pg 41 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I find it hard to believe that a fully grown man can
act like that! Now if I had to do a children's show... Let me rephrase that,
I'm going to incorporate you in this too. If we had to do a show like that, we'd
be tripping over things, acting like dopes and the kids would love us!
"Hello kiddies, today we're going to talk about getting high. You don't want
to do any of this stuff because it isn't good for you." Pete man, you sound
like the president of a tobacco company!!! I-cannot-believe I-am watching this,
I said in the mechanical voice of R2-D2. When Fred Rogers began singing the
song, "It's such a good feeling" neither of us could contain our ourselves!
Peter laughed so hard he was in tears!
 After that, Fred wave's goodbye to
trolley and before long the children's show had ended.
It was cool being a jerk, and who really cared about
the things people think about or the thing's people do anyway? "Whatever
motivates you," that's my motto. He
turned the dial until he found something of interest. The Addams Family came on
and Morticia was grooming her hair. Isn't it just lovely darling, she
thought to herself?

"I don't know why," said Peter, "but I just can't
get into this show. No matter how many times I see it." Yeah, I muttered. I
think it's because Lurch is way too despondent, and Cousin It, just flutters
around without meaning, uttering complete nonsense that no one of a sound
mind could understand! Everyone in the show understands her except the
people viewing! Wednesday's too whiny and Pugsley, where did they find that
kid? "I know, he belongs on a farm somewhere in Idaho! He's always blowing
things up! What's with that? Here's a new train set Pugsley, now be a good
boy and blow it up for me!!!"

Imagine your dad got you this really cool robot, and you blew its head off with an M-80 in the middle of your bedroom! What should the rational response for doing something like that be? Do you think your dad would have been really cool like Gomez?
"I think he'd-a-bludgeoned me to death!!!"
"And look at Fester! He's always got that friggin'
light bulb in his God damn mouth! Need a light Gomez? Let me just unscrew
one from gran- mama's lamp!" Peter then begins doing his unique pantomime
routine. First he impersonates his character by unscrewing the light bulb from
an imaginary light source. He then pretends to put the bulb in his mouth as
would a jubilant Fester Addams! Then with eyes rolled up and his mouth in an
0 position, he looks like the alien having a nervous breakdown in Edvard
Munch's painting, The Scream!!!

Pg 42 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am now in stitches and nearly fall to the floor!
Soon it is 8:30 and the show has ended. After a seemingly long commercial
break, another show airs. On 1313 Mockingbird Lane, we find the Munster's
shuffling about in a timely fashion and distilling mirth.

All the cobwebs and antiquated furniture nestled
away in the arcane dwelling was now a sanctuary of peace for me to reflect
upon. A grand escape so to speak. I soon found their homestead to be
reminiscent of that of my grandmother's house and began to think of both
houses, as though there were a direct correlation between them. As my being
dissolved into lethargy, my mind was transported to that old black and white
Victorian mansion. Pete then staggered to his feet to do an imitation of
Herman lumbering in after a hard day's work. In a dry but pleasant voice, he
utters the following phrase "Le-Lee, I'm home!" I don't quite know how, but
he had the science down pat and with that sullen face of his ever changing, he
could impersonate anyone to a tee! The wind was blowing outside that house
like a giant twister was coming, while I felt as calm as a zeppelin floating
unhindered in an immeasurable sky.

In an anomalous way, it was
almost breathtaking!
As I transcended deeper into the picture, the story
unfolded wonderfully. The pictures in my head were more along the line of
daydream patterns summoning me to participate with them. As I began to dwell
on this, my mind whisked me away. I drifted into the house on a cool breeze
rustling through the curtains and settled down amongst the dusty furniture.
The only currency I needed to take with me had already been smoked. I was
now but a vapor in the mist of time. While the episode continued to play on,
my mind manufactured dreams, creating new roles for me to partake in. Most of
the time I didn't have any say in the matter.
Static soon interrupted the picture and a brief
adjustment had to be made to the antenna which was drooping to one side. As
I wandered past bedrooms and bathrooms like a midsummer breeze, I became
skeptical as to why I was there in the first place. Finding myself atop the old
staircase, I was not surprised to find that under this staircase no dragon
was hiding. That was all a great hoax, but aside from that everything had
been masterfully reproduced right down to the finest detail. How charming
everything looked in a peaceful and dreamlike atmosphere! As I moved about under
the spidery stairs, I now felt as though I were being watched by over a
billion eyes! Creeping ever so gently, I made my way down the ancient
withered steps to the lowest region of that house. Here I discovered a
multitude of carefully stored wine bottles preserved in a dank dark corner
of the stone walled cellar!

Pg 43 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Using my
hand, I wipe away dust from two of the bottles. One I can tell is from 1896 but
the other is obscured. Wait, I am beginning to see something. No that's only
my reflection. Hold on, there it is, 1902! In the earlier part of the
twentieth century, the concept of paper labels wasn't even a fathomed
thought in the brain of inventors! I then carefully placed the bottle back where
I found it. Scurrying about like a mouse through cold torch-lit passageways
and into an eerie laboratory, I found everything to be in a neat and precise
order.

Beakers filled with red and green
liquid were contained to their holders. There a bubbling flask of amber
liquid simmers on the burner to await grandpa's return. A plume of smoke
suddenly appears before me! Poof!!! "What is it, you ask?" spoke the old
vampire excitedly. "Why it's grandpa Munster's super growth formula
of course! It'll make anybody ten times taller, enabling them to conquer any
foe at all. No one will ever bother you again, but if I find out you're trying
to swindle me, I'll make you ten times smaller and watch you get eaten by a
hungry aphid! Here, let me show you" exclaims grandpa enthusiastically as he
pours the two liquids together! "Now all you have to do is drink
it!"
Traveling
to the upstairs portion of the house, I can now see an extensive library of
voluminous books covered in layer upon layer of undisturbed dust. All first
editions protected from the elements of time and sun. They are here for your
reading pleasure or simply for you to gloat upon at your leisure.

Each room
tells a story where the past and present meet. Tree's sway and bend as the
impending storm approaches. Leaves which have pulled away from their
branches fly aimlessly in the gusty wind. Suddenly, the air explodes
fulminating in a barrage of pandemonium as the sky crackles and the thunder
booms! Follow the orchestral arrangement of tumultuous sounds as it brings
forth a torrent of darkness in its heavy pitter-patter. Outside you may hear
the rain falling to the sound of a thousand horses. Where tears of victory
come streaming down the fragile panes in stride, unabated. Carefully, they
tell their own tale of woe. The years are heavy ladened with sorrow, but not
for you. You hear only hollow echoes within the sanctity of the
abode.
Am I watching the show? Am I even here?
Vintage decor that has long since vanished in a time frame now our own is perhaps the most beguiling. Can it be done? Is it possible to create another realm of living within the current realm, we are all subject to participate in?
I suppose, if one has the finances and if one has the time.
Pg 44 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Time what a cursid thing.
It moves by invisible numbers that can always be traced back, but can never be traced
forward. I then realized that time itself doesn't really change at
all. Every season is more or less the same. It is we that have been
changing as new ideas come forth. As I got higher I began to
think more and more of that house. I couldn't fathom being endowed such
a magnificent dwelling. One with grand arches
atop its roof and high ceilings.
A house like that is the equivalent of a town whose
population is 1, and you are the sheriff! The pleasures of getting
high, I thought and why is it illegal? It gives the hopeless hope while
enabling the blind to see. If but for a fleeting
moment we're a terrytoon in time!
We joked around for awhile before breaking the seal
on a bottle of Jeremiah Weed to welcome in I dream of Jeannie.

I wasn't into the color scene as much as I was for
the black & white shows so my attention span was limited to about twelve
seconds, give or take a few. Together we downed a shot in unison and Peter
gave his opinion while pointing up toward Christ. "Nectar of the Gods!"

One more and that's it. "Don't be a killjoy!" This
is 100 proof and I don't want you getting sick in the house. "No way!"
Yes-way, see for yourself, it's right here on the bottle. Keep thinking like
that and we're both gonna be throwing up. "Ain't that somethin.' I thought it
was sixty, seventy proof tops!" After partaking of this splendid drink, I
began to feel somewhat propelled into storytelling and laughter. It was now
that I then told Pete ananecdote, of how I bought the bottle. Three weeks
ago I felt like taking a little walk, so I left the car in the driveway and
began walking not knowing where I'd end up. As fate would have it, I ended
up in Greenwich shopping plaza. I entered the liquor store and asked them if
they had any weed. They looked at me dumbfounded. I then said Jeremiah Weed,
and they all laughed behind the counter! "Why of course!" Pete appreciated
the story and laughed.
"Only you would do that!!!"
What did you think of that Honeymooner's episode
last night? "I love that episode! I like it when Ralph gets stuck between
the pipes! Do somethin' Norton, you gotta help me! Nortin? NORTIN!!!"
 They're playing your song, Ralph! "I don't care whose song they're playin,
I'm not answerin!!!" Sometimes I almost forget that 328 Chauncey street is a
prop! "I know!" It seemed as though everything was going right today, and I had not a care in the
world.
Suddenly, I thought I heard the telephone ring in
the kitchen, and so I go downstairs to answer it. Mom is on the other end
and has called to say she will be coming home early today. She also tells me
no one better be here when she gets home, especially Peter! I tell her no one
will. The time now reads 10:57. My parents never liked Pete due to a
condition he acquired called opsablepsia. I believe it started from smoking
too much pot but Peter will deny this. On those rare occasions when he
actually seemed to overcome it, he was then way too pauciloquent in his
speech.
Pg 45 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the inevitable phone call, I went back
upstairs with two glazed longcookies and gave one to Peter. "Aren't pop
tarts supposed to be heated?" He asks with a blank expression. That was
yesterday, today it's a cookie so eat it.

"Can't I at least have a glass of milk with it?"
What are you a cat or somethin,' Just eat it! I surprised myself as I
unknowingly became Ralph Kramden and hastily blurted the words out! Peter
laughed at the way it sounded and gobbled down the cookie. After this tasty
little treat, we listened to some music.
After that I asked Peter a question. . .
Question, what is the best song on the Too old to
Rock 'N' Roll album? "Well I'm gonna have to go with the title cut on that
one. What do you think?" I think the best song on that album is Strip
Cartoon! "He get's me on a trick question! That's like asking someone which
member of Pink Floyd sang the song "Have a cigar?" *The answer is no one
of course*
We each took a few more hits off the ornate bong as
we laughed and talked about nonsense. Soon the mooring line slowly loosened
itself from around its massive bollard. I then realized there was no longer
anything securing me to my sanity, and so I began to drift away. This time abased and
dejected for the gloom had set in. Why should I even care about today, if
tomorrow I might be struck down? Soon the years will become days and all
whom I know and love will vanish from this place, leaving only me to face
that terror. When at last my casket is lowered into the ground, no one will
even remember my name.

I wasn't a Beatle, neither a Picasso nor a famous
actor. When I started things, I usually never finished them and when I did
finish them, they were never done right anyway. Everything that was once so
perfect was now just a big mistake. The smoke had gotten into my brain, and I
became morose. Eventually, I managed to sweep aside the wretched thoughts
that manifest despair and concentrate on a day which beckoned me to join it.
It's almost eleven thirty, I balked. Wanna go down
and raid the fridge? "Won't you get in trouble if we do that or don't you
remember what happened the last time we ate everything in sight?" Yeah I
know but I'm hungry, so let's go. The more we stuffed our faces, the hungrier I
became and the hungrier I became, the more I found myself eating! "If I must
say, what a voracious appetite I have today!" I
weighted a hundred and fifty five pounds and could eat practically anything put
in front of me. We just kept on going until finally, the pound of ham
and the pound of turkey breast was gone. It's safe to say that when Ramon
comes home and looks for his cold cuts, he's going to find nothing but head
cheese! Soon it was nearing twelve, so I went back upstairs. There was a
certain book I needed to thumb through before we began our
excursion.
Pg 46 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reviews for chapter 9
Craig Martinson - You have a unique writing style and your technique is masterfully composed! How long did it take you to achieve this form of writing and how many books have you already written?
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PG 40) Lights in the night by Marcelo Sanchez
PG 40) Lava Lamp
PG 41) Rocket to Russia - The Ramones
PG 41) Löwenbräu
original
PG 41) Mr. McFeeley - (David Newell)
PG 42) Won't you be my neighbor - Mister Rogers
PG 42) The Addams Family - (TV series)
PG 42) M-80 brand firecrackers - Made in China
PG 42) The Scream by Edvard Munich
PG 43) The Munsters - (TV series)
PG 43) Santos-Dumont airship No. 9 Baladeuse
PG 43) Old wine bottles - Badia a Coltibuono (Gaiole in Chianti, Italy)
PG 44) Grandpa Munsters laboratory
PG 44) Old Books from 1860
PG 45) I dream of Jeannie - hand painted limited edition 245/250
PG 45) Jeremiah Weed 100 proof Bourbon Liqueur - The original brown bottles
PG 45) The Honeymooners - Dial "J" for Janitor
PG 46) The Fillings - Taste of love
PG 46) The Imperial - Solid Mahogany Hardwood Casket
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