Titanic's Nemesis

I do love all flowers', and *if* I was absolutely forced to choose a favorite, it would be difficult, but I would have to choose the Iris.

Here in the 'Loo, at the Missouri Botanical Garden, we have a HUGE iris bed that is breath taking each season. Believe it or not, they are already beginning to bloom!

Anywho.... I know the names of most of these Iris', and where they are planted in this Iris garden. My favorite Iris is probably "Titanic's Nemesis". It is named so because it is HUGE, slightly off-white, and it's center looks like cracked ice: An iceberg - Titanic's Nemesis.

I watched and admired that Iris for a couple years, then... she disappeared from the Garden. I know the manager of this side of the Botanical Garden on a personal level. I asked him, "Hey, what happened to Titanic's Nemesis?" His answer: "That Iris isn't a reliable bloomer, and we like them to bloom on a predictible basis, so we replaced it with something else." A couple days later, I saw a couple elderly volunteers that were caring for this section of the Garden, and I mentioned the removal of Titanic's Nemisis to them. They corrected the story that Jason, the manager, told me by adding, "That's not why we removed that Iris. That Iris is such a prolific bloomer that it fell over in the pathway, and we didn't want to take the time to stake the plant, so we removed it!" To pour salt into a fresh wound, Jason - the manager  - took that plant home, and put it in his own garden!

(Disclaimer:  I have nothing personal against Jason.  He is a hard working and very talented man.  As 'they' say, "It's not personal, it's just business!" he he)

I tracked Jason down, and I said, "BRING BACK THAT DAMNED IRIS!" He did just that. It took another year for Titanic's Nemesis to restablish itself, and from that day forward - with stakes applied! - that Iris is the biggest, the most prolific, and in my opinion, the prettiest Iris in the park! :)

Titanic's Nemesis:


- Michael

Bitch Fest #481B: Being a young Medicare / Essence Health Care patient

I just made a call to Essence Health Care (yes, I'm on Medicare!) to change my Primary Care Physician. I had to make this change because although my previous doctor is a nice person with good intentions, I will have to quote Dr. Phil McGraw and Saint Bernard of Clairvaux in saying, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions!"

Via Facebook, it is not possible for me to accurately relay to you the looks on all of the employee's faces in the Doctor's office (including the Dr, himself!) when I walked into the office. They looked at me as if a beautiful, young alien just landed in their midst.

Granted, I am well aware that I do not look like the Average Joe that limps down the street, and that is intentional and by my own design. However.... When I walked into the tiny waiting room of this doctor's office, I noted that by at least two and a half decades, I was the youngest patient in the room. This information did not deter me, and I pressed forward.

Red flags started to go up when I signed in at the receptionist's window, and they had no record of my scheduled appointment. That error was corrected when I showed them the letter that they mailed to my home, with the appointment date and time written on the top of the first page. That did not stop the folks in the office from putting me last on the list to see the doctor, rather than at the correct time slot. Patients with later scheduled times were taken in before my appointment time. Although it took all the power in Heaven and Hell to keep my mouth shut, I tried to choke that one down, and I continued with my visit.

When I finally did get into the exam room, a nurse practitioner who was acting on the behalf of Essence Health Care came in to examine me. Although I firmly believe that she had good intent (see St. Bernard, above), I could tell that this well-paid woman from Essence Health Care really didn't have a clue. That was especially apparent when **I** had to explain to her Erb's Palsy, and it's effects. I am a nurse, I am not a Dr. Even though she really isn't a Dr, she is just a half a step below, and *she* should know more about Erb's Palsy than I do (as just one example...)

At any rate, the nurse practitioner did an exam (and nobody took my vital signs - ever!) , and the Dr. came into the room a few minutes later.

He was far more interested in my knit socks, my 3/4" gauge ear piercings, and my well groomed beard than he was interested in the myriad of crap that is ailing me. It had become clear to me that I was the youngest person that they had **EVER** seen in that office, and that since I was "so young", and rather unique looking, there possibly couldn't be anything wrong with me! What were they expecting of me? Should I have arrived at the appointment with food stuck in an un-groomed beard, bad mismatched Hoosier clothing, my big thick eye glasses stuck on my face in a crooked fashion, and my teeth out? If I had arrived looking like that, I might have captured their attention. Otherwise, it wasn't happening for me.

I will not use this space to whine about the reasons that I went to this Dr., but I can make a guarantee to you, dear reader, that I didn't take time - and money - out of a busy day to go see this man to help build an addition on his home in the Frontenac area of St. Louis. I went to see him BECAUSE I NEED HELP, DAMN IT!

Even though he is the nicest person that I have met in a while, and he is a TRUE fan of mine, he is clueless, and this Dr. simply couldn't see a zebra among the herd of horses. His patients are ALL much older Medicare patients. I am a younger Medicare patient. Because of his inability to switch gears, I now have to go through the pain-in-the-ass of switching Dr's.

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

The new Dr. that I have selected is more of a Family Practice Dr.  I hope he has seen a wide range of patients in his practice.
- Michael

 

I'm so glad that somebody has my back!

This has the standard answer that I have always given to people when they ask that dumb question re: my tattoos and piercings.

It's either that response, or I say, "Baby, it's only skin, and even YOU aren't going to take it with you when you go. When compared to the history of this Earth, your life is only a microscopic SPECK on that timeline, so in other words, your time here on Earth is VERY SHORT. Don't you think you should live, rather than exist, while you're here?"

There is no way I can possibly relate to you the looks on people's faces when I rip that one off. I can see a **tiny** light flicker on in their eyes (sometimes!), but I know it is usually extinguished the moment they walk away. Sometimes. OCCASIONALLY, somebody says, "You know.... I never thought of it that way!" I hope that particular individual goes forth, and lives purposefully, rather than existing.

I'm sure you have heard the story of the little boy standing on the beach, among thousands of starfish that have washed ashore. He is picking up the starfish, one by one, and throwing them back into the water. Some calloused person who has MADE themselves old walks by and asks him, "Son, what are you doing? You can't possibly save ALL the starfish!" He answers, "No, I can't. But I can save THAT one... (throws another one into the water).... and THAT one... (throws another one into the water).... and THAT one... (throws another one into the water)....

The only problem is that you can easily throw a wayward starfish back into the water. They can't fight back. Humans, however, get a little pissed and a little resistant when I tell them that they need to venture back into the water!

- Michael

Thanks to this cold that some generous person (!!) gave me, I have been a bit out of sorts - worse than usual - the past couple days.


Yesterday, I did the body piercing version of 'your dress being tucked up in your panty hose!"


When I take my daily shower, I take the 3/4" plugs out of my ears, and my 00 gauge septum plug, and I wash....er... I wash my holes.  My other major piercing, which shan't be mentioned, can fend for itself.  


Anywho, I took the 3/4" plugs out of my ears, soaped and rinsed the holes, and instead of putting BOTH plugs back in, I forgot, and I only put the right plug back in my ear.  So.... I go go the Missouri Botanical Gardens, and I go shopping at 5 different stores.  NOT ONE PERSON mentioned to me that I had only one plug in my ears, and I had a huge, gaping, floppy hole in the other ear!


I guess this is proof that I don't spend as much time in a mirror as I am often accused of doing.  After my shower, I blow dryed, moussed and hair srayed my bear and 'stache into it's normal place, and I **STILL** didn't notice that I was missing a plug.  When Mark pulled up in the driveway after he got off work (About 5:30 PM), he yelled out his car window as he was driving up, "Hey, MOO, why do you only have one plug in?"  A flash of terror shot through me as I felt my left year.   Yep.  It was gone.  I went into the bathroom, and looked in the window sill above the bathtub.  There sat the missing plug.  I had gone without it all day!


Still, I feel like the lady that leaves a public restroom with the back of her dress tucked up in her panty hose - and she's not wearing underwear!

- Michael

Uh... Sorry.... I didn't see you there!

Drivers do the same thing to bicyclists. WAY too many times has a car pulled out in front of me while I was on a bicycle.... going down hill... at 30 - 35 MPH.

I have had a few accidents because, in their minds, people refuse to validate motorcyclists and bicyclists as 'valid things that are moving FAST on a street.'

When I was 19, I was going down a fairly steep hill, and a woman in a van pulled out in front of me. I saw the "I don't give a damned about you" vacant look in her eyes, and although I was braking as hard as I could, and I was yelling as loud as I could to get her attention, she pulled out in front of me, anyway. I slammed into the side of her van, and my body bent the sliding door in so bad that I think they would have had to replace the door, and I know she was never able to open it again.

After my body hit her van - right shoulder first - my bicycle continued to slide underneath her van, and out the other side. If I was lucky in this scenario, it is because I was bounced off the street, and into the small grassy area between the sidewalk and the curb.
That bitch jumped out of her van and yelled at me (while I was still on the ground!), "Look, kid! You need to watch where you are riding that thing!"

I staggered to my feet, holding my aching shoulder, and I asked her, "If a car was sitting at the same intersection, and it was going at the same speed that I was - 35 mph - there is a good chance that somebody would be dead now."

Would you believe that this hideous, beastly woman continued to refuse to see that she was 100% at fault, and she continued to blame ME.

This incident occurred 25 years ago, and it was before the time of small, easily portable and popular cell phones. Should this incident occur TODAY, I would definitely retain the driver, I would call the police, and the driver would be ticketed (and they would pay for the damages to the $6,000 bicycle that I own!

I started yelling back at this woman. I finally said, "Look, I can walk over to Hardees (which was a half a block away), and since I work there, I can use the phone to call the cops,and THEY can settle this matter."

Even though it was DIM, I could see a small light flicker on in her eyes, and she started to get defensive, stating, "Hey! You don't have to be THAT way, do you?" I answered her with, "Since you were very wrong, and you tried to blame me for your error, yes, I do think I have to be "that way!"

It was at that point that she realized that a bicyclist has as many rights and responsibilities as she does, including having their rights on the same roads that she uses.

She got in her van, and floored the thing. I never saw her again, but I do wish I would have gotten her license plate #. She destroyed my bicycle, and 25 years later, I have severe arthritis in the shoulder that flew into the side of her van, and it is to the point where I will soon need a new shoulder!

Motorists use 'perceptual deception', which is a cousin to 'denial'. When they are sitting at an intersection, many people are looking for ANYTHING with 4 or more wheels, and they honestly will not allow themselves to see anything on 2 wheels.

- Michael

What Doesn't Kill Makes You Stronger! Really ?!?

Along the same train of thought, Tina Turner - my momma who got her start in St. Louis! - never publicly bad mouthed that worthless Ike Turner because, as she tells the story, if it had not been through the crap that he put her through, she might not have turned into the force that she remains today.


HOWEVER.... (Don't you just LOVE 'howevers'?).....


I would like to think that the price of becoming 'whoever you are today' could be paid at a much lower rate - just a little cheaper, if you know what I mean!


For example, I would like to believe that I would have become the musician and the creative person that I am today even IF my mother was supportive, rather than jab and make fun of any efforts that I ever attempted.  She she tried to thwart or squelch anything that I ever attempted.  As a counter, "I'll-show-you-who-can-do-what" measure, and absolutely no thanks to her, I became a creative, musically inclined individual.  Please keep in mind that her intent was not to make me better, or to drive me forward.  Her efforts were simply to stop me from becoming better than her.  I am here today to tell you that 'Laziness never pays."  


Needless to say, even to this day, she continues to fail miserably at trying to bring me down to her level - and I continue to explore my world, to create beautiful objects and I learn to play new, increasingly complicated music EVERY DAY.  She continues a downward spiral, and I continue to soar to new heights, but my victory is by no intentional effort of her own to make me a better person.  The results that I have seen in my life are 100% a result of my own hard work and determination, and attention to detail and finesse.  Growing up, I knew that there HAD to be a better life than the one that I was dealt, and I was bound and determined to find it.  It is a fact that I don't live in a mansion, or I don't have a high paying mob. Nonetheless, my efforts in finding a better life have paid off. I have been successful in my quest.


One would think that I could have achieved the levels that I have without having to go through the shit that she slings my way, but hey, I guess the outcome could have been much worse for me.  I COULD BE HER!


Another thing that Tina credits for her life turning around after her "Ike days" is that she converted to Buddhism
.  
One of Buddhism's main values is KARMA.  That old girl, Karma.  She is getting busier by the day, her response times are becoming quicker and her accuracy can't be beat!  :)


Here's to Hinduism and Buddhism......   That reminds me... I need to stop by the Hindu Temple here on Weidman Road to say a puja....


Here are some images to browse.  The details in this building are amazing, the food served in the basement is wonderful, and I find this temple to be the wonderful, calming and centering respite that my soul craves:

 

(That building looks small in the pics, but it is actually a fairly large building.)
More images:
http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=hindu+temple+of+st+louis&FORM=BIFD#x0y0

Please find your place of respite and visit it frequently.  It should be a special  place where no other person can bother you, remove you, or otherwise harass you while you are there.

Another native St. Louisian, Maya Angelo says,
"My Garden is the place that I want to go after my last place is refused, but before I meet God."

I have several such places, including when I am on a Hammond organ or piano bench, when I am walking through the Missouri Botanical Gardens, when I am walking through a national award winning Fine Art Show, or when I am sitting in an Indian restaurant.

Your place(s) of respite will probably be totally different than mine, but they should exist, nonetheless.  Go forth and find it, or find them!  It will do your mind and body some good!

- Michael

Will The Real Judge Please Stand up? (I think he just did!)

My good sister, Karma, does seem to have my back again.    See!  I told you that the Buddhist Monk that is hiding inside me would one day come bubbling to the surface!


Are the following events pure coincidence, or is there more to the store than meets the ear?  You tell me:


The church that I was raised in from 1979 until I got the Hell out of there was a Pentecostal church at 16th & Locust in Quincy, IL.  The pastor that founded this church, Charles Mitchell, was never my biggest 'fan', and the man that took over the church after Mitchell left, Mark Fogarty was DEFINITELY not in my court, if you know what I mean.


At any rate, after Mark Fogarty basically robbed this congregation, as  is his modus operandi, he moved on from this church to another somewhere in Georgia.


Another pastor came along to Calvary Tabernacle (16th & Locust), and eventually moved the church downtown Quincy.


The irony of it all?  The church building at 16th & Locust became the home for the Church of the Holy Spirit - a gay congregation.  Not so many years ago (the details are below), 'Pastor' Fogarty tried to tell me that I was 'living wrong', and that I was basically going to burn in Hell.  My favorite sister, Karma, has made the entire thing come around full circle.


1) I played piano / organ for Calvary Tabernacle when I was in my early - mid teens.
2) I played piano for MCC (Metropolitan Church of Christ - a gay congregation) when the church was at 24 North 5th Street, Quincy, IL
3) Now, the same building - 16th & Locust - what was used to scorn and condemn me is now a place of respite and shelter for me - the Church of the Holy Spirit.


Pastor Fogarty:  Ya really gotta be careful when you play God.  I know it is difficult to imagine, but there are powers greater than your own, and they can and will be used against you!


The details:


I will never forget that little meeting that Mark Fogarty called when he found out that I am gay.  He started 'throwing the book' at me, and I hurled it back at him.  When he realized that he was not gaining any ground, he tried to squelch me by saying, "Oh, Son!  Don't judge God's wisdom!"  I said, "Sir, I think you are a little confused.  I am a mere 7 yrs younger than you.  I am not your son.  And.... I'm not judging GOD's wisdom.  I'm judging YOURS.  And you're only a man.  And barely that."


Both of my parents were at this meeting, as was Diane, both Diane's parents, both my parents, and Mark Fogarty's wife (the poor, beat down thing!)  In all, there were 8 people at this little meeting, and the agenda was to discuss my sexuality.


After I politely said (with a smile, of course!), "You're only a man, and barely that!"  He said, "Meeting's ajourned!"  He stood up, and I rose out of my chair to shake his hand.  He closed Good Book, and I went to the door. I turned and said, "Call me when we can do this again some time.  I'll be looking forward to your call!"  That was the last time I ever saw that man.


From what I understand, he has been busy since that meeting:
http://www.spiritualabuse.org/experiences/lawsuits/mark_fogarty.html

I have always had a guiding hand on my shoulder.  When I first laid eyes on that man, I told my mother, "There is something about that man that I don't like.  Look just beneath the skin, and you will know what I'm talking about."  Of course, I was once again squelched.  After he left that church in a much bigger hock than he found them (which included selling the church's organ and piano to buy himself a Hammond B3 and a digital keyboard, which he took with them), he left town, and left them in a mess.


The moral of this story:
A man (woman and child) is just that. A human being. Human beings are capable of doing anything they set their minds to.  A title that had been bestowed on them (or one that they have bestowed upon themselves!) doesn't mean squat to me.  In my humble opinion, a person is judged by his / her actions, and not a title, if you know what I mean.  :)