This Blows

The assault continues.

There is so much crap in the air that I cound literally snatch a handful of stuff out of the air and weave a series of small baskets.

The Assault on Citadel 4

Well I have been through all manner of shit the last week, some of which I invited, others not at all.

As I write this The Citadel has been besieged from all sides. Gardeners and also potential drug dealers (not related) have descended on this once beautiful place. To make matters worse I have a gastrointestinal problem which is making things quite unbearable.

As the gardeners hyped up their Weapons of Mass Weed Eating Destruction it started to splatter mass debris at my office windows and the smoke began to bellow up.

I report like from a war zone to Miss T:

Macster: yeah...clump...ping
Macster: stick
Macster: smack
Macster: ting
Macster: click..sping
Macster: bit bit bit
Macster: tonk
talleulah: lol
Macster: speck
Macster: tiff
Macster: trink
Macster: crump
Macster: smonk
Macster: oh god now the other window
Macster: tink tink
Macster: like Dr. H's revenge
talleulah: LOL
Macster: PING PING!!
Macster: Yeah Ole Doc's having a laugh right now
Macster: ohhhh
Macster: PING
Macster: SMECK
Macster: TING!

On and on it goes. And meanwhile the assult on the other end.

I tried to close all the windows off, but I forgot the 2.5 inch opening in the bathroom that we keep to dampen the mold's slow advances. So by the time I get in there (running) and these two guys have been at it for an hour, it looks like the barn in Bethlehem.

Hack...cough...eyes burning.

Butt burning.

The "Bird" will be along soon to mock me. (Another story).

Ah life.

********

Now we have no idea if we have drug dealers in the building now or not. Lots of people moving in and out at all hours.

Of course there is one way to be sure, and that is to simply publish this. Drug dealers have uncanny radar and have probably hacked into my wifi signal and I will be dead by morning,

If so, then remember this as you blog.

*******

Okay, the Doc H story before I get dropped into the Channel later tonight.

I actually (blush) went to Bible College when I was a young man. I was not into "religion" at all...in fact I had no idea that the Fundagelical world existed and all these loving Christians were really just assholes.

Some things we learn only by experience.

So I went to a (I did not know this) very conservative Bible College in San Francisco.

The barbed wire fences should have told me something.

There were four people there who helped me keep my questionable sanity.

The first two were my buddies R & D (more on them some other time). But they were my department.

The next was the delicious D...an enticing woman of great humor who I never jumped (much to my chagrine).

And lasting was Doc H.

Now I could name him because he is dead. He died of cancer some years back. And, as I said earlier, I am certain he was laughing at me especially hard (he laughs most days) today as rocks, bark, peices of broken potterym sticks and twgs pinged off my windows for hours.

But I am not going to for my own reasons.

Anyway Doc would have smiled at all that crap flying at my windows, but not unkindly.

Doc was the classiest, and perhaps, most intelligent man I have ever known. I am proud to say he was my mentor and a mentor to many others. He was a Kierkegaardian scholar and an expert on the Arts.

Like a subdued (he was Canadian) Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society, Doc drew out a passion for literature, for art, and for life itself.

The only class of his I ever missed was the one in which I showed up early (off a bus) and was wearing jeans but forgot.

At Bible college back then you cannot wear jeans.

I simply forgot.

And a young woman came up to me 3 minutes before Doc was to arrive and ordered me to "change my pants".

Doc never saw the exchange. Only R & D did.

I was in the front row in a class of 90 plus.

I left quietly. I was gonna burn her at the stake until R&D reminded me "Hey Bac...how would you like to have to tell YOU to go change? She was scared shitless."

Okay then.

Only time I ever missed Doc.

*******

Doc never married and there were suspicions at the time that his orientation might not be hetero.

Remember the context.

Personally I couldn't have cared less then or now. Doc always had a way of elevating the conversation and context above the mundane, yet subtley.

He would take me out for coffee and dessert and let me utterly RAIL against the hypocrisy of the very institution he was Vice-President of.

He dealt with this brash and often arrogant young man (some things never change) with grace and good-humor.

Now to the story!

I was out of town and this Bible College was one huge building on a hill...massive and really like a Starship in that you could live on it and never go outside if you did not want to.

Weird.

Doc, as a life-long bachelor, had part of wing C converted into one long apartment, so he was directly across the courtyard from room 262 in D wing.

My room.

As a strict Bible college, we were not allowed amenities (because Jesus is against coffee, microwaves and personal telephones etc...).

So we just hid them.

WWJH (What Would Jesus Hide?)

*******

Aw shit they are back.

TING
Ping
Stat
Tunk
Spit
Smeck
Smeck
Scrape

My ears are burning now and my lungs choking. My lungs are filling with fluid.

Lord (No Fundie) please send rain.

********

So I am gone. I am out of town by the friggen R & D department have taken over my room (they are both RA's so they have keys).

They notice Skip across the way in wing C.

Skip is whacked.

He preached to himself in full suit all alone day and night.

They take skipper away a few weeks later. I am sure he is still highly sedated.

*******

Skip is preaching to himself. A congregation of one.

R & D, helping themselves, of course, to my premium blend Capricorn-roasted coffee also have access to my sugar cubes.

In their maturity and in brotherly love they begin to fling these cubes across the courtyard into Skip's room.

Ping...Ping Ping.

Skip is momentarily confused. He has been briefed on arrows and rocks, but has not training on C&H sugar cubes.

He shouts out "Angels of Light!" and quicking slams the window and locks it down. No one knows whether this contributed to his being carted off two weeks later.

********

So the boys in R&D need a new target.

"Hey look R...look at that guy peering out the window!"

They start throwing...

Ping..Ping Ping

Ping
Ping
Ping

"Hey we got his attention!" R says.

Ping Ping

"Hey..." says R. "Who lives over on middle C?"

Ping Ping!

"Er....oh God!"

"DOC!!" they both yell at the same time.

And all from MY room.

*******

Okay the guys are back...I will post a picture soon that will tell all.

Having hacked the bits out of 8 months of dry growth they are now BLOWING it everywhwere.

It looks like it is snowing...and not a light snow. (see above).

*******

Well Doc never mentioned it to me, even though it was clear where the sugar was coming from.

The R&D department fessed up immediately, but there was never any threat.

Like I said, he was a man of class, grace and great humor.

I miss him now that I live back in the Bay Area. I miss him all the time.

But Doc had a good laugh today as all the crap pinged of my windows.

Part of life

Failure comes.

In fact we are deadly afraid of it we cannot learn from it. The lessons are on the doorstep. They lay there simply and in plain ink. There are even cartoons. It should make should make us laugh...like sweet little children...then trade stories of our own lostness and failures so we could end in a great big party of laughter...crying our eyes out.

But we choose not to.

Instead we go to bed knowing this is possible and also true. But we quietly turn away, pretending to be adults when we are all sweet children still.

The children wish to dance and sing and say "olly olly Oxen-free" and all the children come out free...running.

Beauty. Watch them sing and dance about...then look at your adult neighbor.