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June 2008
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6/11/08
Inherent Danger and Diablo Night
6/5/08
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Subject: Inherent Danger and Diablo Night
Time: 8:24:00 PM EDT
Author: jayveerhapsody
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Subject: Inherent Danger and Diablo Night
Time: 8:24:00 PM EDT
Author: jayveerhapsody
Danger and I have always been partners. Well, almost always. My existence has often teetered on the edge of destruction. I've very often courted calamitous situations. I've eagerly rode the long road to ruin and came back to tell about it. Long before I ever even thought about documenting my experiences on paper, my life played out like a dimestore novel. The vast amount of chapters I've unwittingly lived never fail to boggle my mind. How I managed to survive is a miracle. If cats have nine lives, I must have had 999. I never puropsefully tried to have an exciting, unconventional life - it just seemed to unfold that way.
Fortunately, I've been keeping personal diaries and journals since I was ten. That's about - - - - well, heck, I'm not going to say how many years. That would date me to the point of extinction. Let's just say that I have a helluva lot of old diaries & journals in storage. And I've only written about a small fraction of all my wild, adventurous experiences. Maybe a book someday. Or two books......
I think I've just noticed the improper use of a conjunction at the beginning of a sentence. That's one of my bad habits....but it's only a MINOR one....)
Why am I saying all this? Darned if I know. I'm not bragging about my past life. I'm merely thinking about it, and - in retrospect - gasping at how colorful & rich & varied & absolutely unconventional it has been. I guess I'm lucky to have survived to tell about it - - and to reflect upon it with the distance (and wisdom?) of age.
There is no doubt whatsoever that I was afflicted with an acute case of Self-Destructive Syndrome. It definitely stemmed from my chaotic childhood - - - but I don't feel like getting Freudian and going there now. It would take too long. I wasn't always wild or unconventional. In school I was a wimp. A nerd. A sissy. I started first grade when I was four, so I was always about two or three years younger than everyone else in my class. Those differences in years are enormous when you're a kid. I was quiet & timid & well-behaved & disgustingly studious. I never made trouble and never sought it. Not until after I graduated, anyway.
I attended high school in a quiet little old-fashioned town nestled in the rural hills, somewhere between Riverside and Orange Counties. It didn't seem like Southern California at all. It was too quaint. Later, shortly after I graduated, my parents moved to Anaheim. I suddenly had access to the beaches and L.A. and a jillion (yes, jillion) exciting things to do and every despicable vice imaginable. Quicker than a hummingbird wink, I was completely ruined.
I had shed my prissy persona like a snake sheds its skin. I traded my Clark Kent suit for a Superman outfit. My Peewee Herman persona metamorphosed into Midnight Cowboy Delux. I never looked back.
Twelve years in Texas have only served to make me even more tough than I already was. California Tough melts like ice cream in the boiling WestTexas sun. Life in the Lone Star State will give you callous of the soul. It's not for the faint of heart. True Texans can eat barbed wire and wash it down with armadillo piss without even flinching. And that's only an appetizer.
Is it only my imagination, or did I begin another sentence with a conjunction?
I guess I'm a hard dude to figure out. My relatives have been trying to figure me out for years. They politely read the things I write, then think to themselves What the hell is going on with Jon? Is he for real? What does he mean? Am I really related to him?? Yea, I'm for real, but my layers are deep. My character is so multi-dimensional that sometimes it even confuses me. But I'm real & genuine.
I undoubtedly will always have a wild streak pulsing through my veins - the only thing is lately I'm often too busy and too tired act upon it. Did I mention too old? Naw, never.....I still quench my insatiable thirst for danger now & then - - just not quite as often as I used to. My Texas environment is unconventional enough to assuage my adventurous spirit, pique my imagination, and placate my desire for danger. Perhap that's why I'm here.
Last night I took advantage of the rampant restless in my soul. I let myself succumb to the burning blasts of the dusty midnight winds and the sightless depths of the moonless sky. I abandoned the suffocating house and found myself riding in the blessed emptiness of the vast countryside. It was still incredibly hot, but not as stifling as in the house. The enormity of the land and the sweeping pulse of the desert wind quickly revived me.
Blessed escape was my only objective........
.........and this particular escape eventually brings me to a notorious watering hole way out in the thirsty wastelands of nowhere. It's a cantina of sorts. I call it El Diablo. Rowdy and raw and drenched in midnight danger, it's the kind of haven I desperately desire.
This scorching night has made me thirsty for anonymity and blessed oblivion, thirsty for hard drinks and soft lips. I'll take whatever the cards have to offer.
In this danger-infested oasis I wear my tough-guy mask , my dark hombre facade. I convincingly assume the character that I am not. I'm damn good at it, especially after a generous reinforcement of beer. Washed down with a couple shots of tequila. We're all playing roles, whether we know it or not, after all.....life is indeed a damned stage.
In the custody of 80 proof, the scene eventually becomes intense, sharply-defined, and somewhat romantic. Amber lamp light and thick cigarette smoke and boisterous laughter and calculated smiles and jumbled voices and....somewhere in the distance.....the delicious strains of Mexican guitars.
For an hour or two I absorb the atmosphere like a sponge for future reference. After all, I'm a writer. For me, even relaxation can eventually be put to good use. I'm easy, but I'm also shrewd.....
Later, in the parking lot: a drunken brawl - a fight with knives, but no blood. Two hot-headed Mexicans are in an impromptu battle, staged against a black,starlit sky. I watch in detached fascination - like I was watching a play. One of the men eventually collapses in utter drunkeness. The other finally surrenders and leaves the scene.
Fraught with drama, this place was once the scene of a murder. In the custody of too much whiskey, a bad moon, and a dangerous love triangle, two guys fought inside the cantina. One shot the other. The cold tile floor was stained with his blood for a long time. It was sort of an intriguing attraction - - and something to contemplate while you were having a drink....or a love affair.......
I take a long swig of cool beer, then toss the empty bottle far away in the distant dust. The night is hot and ripe and filled with rich possibilities - and, of course, danger. I light a cigarette and lean casually against a fender of my truck - while the rabid heat of the desert night spills around me and soaks up what's left of the sweat.
Shall I write more?
Nope. I'm all written out for now. Besides, if I write more, I just might soil a clean blog. Let your imaginations go rampant........
Jon
Written by jayveerhapsody Blog about this entry |
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This entry has 13 comments: (Add your own)
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Being able to write the way you do, you don't need to carry a camera :-)
xoxo -
~ I didn't get an alert for this one so found you from my sidebar ~ and I am glad I did ~ I always enjoy your writing and this one is brilliant ~ Ally x
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Brilliant...more please... your writing takes me to the spot and saves me a fortune on travel costs lol Eve
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Here I thought I was living dangerously when I tried to "shoo" the black bear away from the neighbour's garbage on Tuesday morning. Hubby couldn't believe that I was only a few feet away - but I was getting annoyed at the mess. Thankfully, the neighbour finally moved his garbage can into his basement where it is now safe from the bears. Loved your story telling Jon, as only you can paint such a vivid scene of memories. More, please . . .
Always, Rose~*
6/23/08 6:30 PM