SILENT NIGHT (REVISITED)

This is the time of year we go to the attic, or basement in search of our boxes full of memories. The family Christmas decorations. Some precious heirlooms passed from generations ago, mixed with new memories added as the family ages, and changes. Keeping the links from the past, and adding our new ones. This is the first Christmas blog I ever wrote. I'm getting it out, dusting it off, and in that spirit, sharing it again with new friends, and old.
It is a true story. I Was living with Kacy, Mackenzie, and their mom in a trailer off of Fisk Road. A roller coaster time for me with both the happiest I've ever been, and some of the most heart wrenching times of my life as Lori sank into drug addiction, and faded away like a photograph left in the sun. Still..Through the grace of God, and the help of friends we managed to have some of my most cherrished Christmases there.
I had a fire pit lined with a circle of stones in the back yard. It was my refuge, and a place of many joyfull memories. Like this one....

It was late, and all the little ones were asleep. Lori was with her friends, and as usual I was the odd man out. So I went out to my fire pit in the back yard. It was still snowing, and about six inches coverd everything. It was beautifull. The trees were magic in their winter coats. I took the plywood cover off my circle of stones, and gathered wood &kindling from under the trailer. My woodsman skills soon rewarded me with a good warm fire. I pulled a Milwaukee's Best out of my cooler, and cracked it open..drinking deep.

I was happy. I was alone, but I was happy. As my supply of" the beast " decreased my happiness increased. I wasn't getting drunk, but I had a nice mellow buzz going. I very quietly, almost plantiffly began to sing Silent Night as I gazed into my cheerfully crackling fire. Thinking about stables, and mangers, and the real reason we celebrate this winter holiday. I began to weep. I began to whisper a tearfull thank you for a miraculous gift. Thinking "Now It's Christmas." I didn't know it yet, but I was about to recieve a beautifull celestial Christmas present.

I never heard the car approach, or the door. You never do. I did hear the crunch crunch crunch of his shoes in the snow, and turned (beer in hand) to find a sherrif's deptuy at my side. Was I going to jail? was it my fire? No one complained before...."Evening son." He said cheerfully. "Can I share your fire?" "Sure!" I replied "Is everything alright?" I started to tell him I had permission from the landlord for my fire pit, and that I'd only had 4 beers... He raised his hands, and stopped me. "your fine son. Your neighbor has had a problem with her medication. I'm just waiting for the ambulence." As I looked at the trailer next door where he'd parked another cruiser pulled in. When this deputy had talked to my neighbor he approached my fire and said.."Jerry Fred? Is that You?" (tearing up again here) It was a cousin I hadn't seen since i lived in Monterey Tenn. Years ago!!! Only my mother's people call me jerry fred. My Aunt Francis got that started. (GOD! The gift that keeps on giving. The ghosts, and emotions writing this are stirring!!! I am weeping openly now. Joyfully. Bittersweetly. OHhhh!! it hurts so good.)

We stood around my fire in the cold snowy darkness, our hearts warmed. We caught up on each other's lives. Shared photographs, and remembered Christmases past. It was pure joy. We included the other deputy in our walk down memory lane, And I savored this moment in time. knowing it for the miracle it was. I was part of the conversation, and yet part of me was not. Part of me was watching the whole thing. Recording it in my heart. rejoicing in the magic of it.

We were startled out of our Christmas memories by the crackle of radio traffic. It seems the ambulence had went to the wrong trailer park. (there was another just up the road.) My cousin was on his radio. In that wonderfull Tennessee accent I have come to love so much, he said... "Yore in tha wrong trailer court. look for the far. There's a feller got hisself a far goin. It's the trailer next to that..!0-4? And so it was that my little campfire guided the ambulence to where it was needed. Just like the star guided the wise men so long ago.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

MEMORIES OF GOD'S COUNTRY

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At fifty-eight years of age I have a warehouse of memories. Such as..Standing on the back of a work truck,wearing only a towel, and watching a huge tornado sling railroad cars like they were nothing. Or waking up in the cockpit of a 24 foot sailboat, miles off shore, totally surrounded by ocean, with a gigantic bloodred sun rising out of it. Looking over my shoulder, and seeing all of Manhatten (including the towers) ablaze with thousands of lighted windows, from The George Washington Bridge. And on his 89 tour, watching Paul McCartney sing "Hey Jude" live, through stinging tear filled eyes. But the memories that seem to bring me the most joy are the ones that took place in Prairie du Chien Wisconsin, when I was a small boy, and the center of the universe was Blackhawk Avenue, between Marquette Road, and north Main Street.

I remembersneaking in, and playing spaceships in the cabin cruisers in Starks boats next door to Pete's. I remember weekend afternoons at the Metro Theatre, between Panka's Shoes, and Jims bar. Ferrels Walgreens had the very first rotating time n temerature signIever saw , and People's State Bank across the street. Wauketas, Hamanns , and The Lion's Club.. THE Crazy days sale with all the stores merchandise out on the street. There was Frank's Rexall Drugs, The Prairie Spy, and The Courier Press. There was The Leigon club, The Fort Crawford Hotel, Kreagans, The White Front, and The Prairie Schooner. I remember the old woolen mill on Main Street across from my buddy Rickey Seeley lived . The IGA on Beaumont Road, and The Piggley Wiggley. out by the hills on Blackhawk.

I remember sailing my Texaco Tanker on the pond at The Villa Louise, under the weeping willows. summer Nights when my gramma, and I would walk over to the A&W Rootbeer stand down by the slough bridge. We sometimes would end up at my Aunt Alices in the forth ward. Sitting on her front porch watching the car lights crossing the old bridge. I remember The noon whistle, and The white church on Wisconsin Street that played music every weekday at five pm. There were three passenger trains a day that stopped there then. The orange Empire Builder, the green Northern Pacific, and the silver Burlington Route Zepher.
I have very fond memories of some of the citizens of that time too. Like BillI of Bill's Texaco who let this little kid hang out at his station, and gave me my Texaco tanker. Frank of Frank's Rexall, who found me wandering crying outside his store wasp stung, he treated my stings..no charge.., and called my gramma. The bartender who vaulted the bar, and rushed to my gramma,s aid when I ran in to Kreagens sobbing hysterically one night that she fell down up the street, and wouldn't talk to me. Wonderfull people. A wonderfull time, and place My Mayberry. I will return someday. Stroll Blackhawk Avenue, and smell Pete's hamburgers on a warm summer night.

JERRY KOLBE

TALES OF HISTORY AND EXPLANATION

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I generaly don't feel too compelled to explain my political stance. I pretty much call it as I see it. But lately some of my brothers, and sisters at First United Pentacostal Church have shown some dismay, and chargin over my recent posts, and rebuttals of their posts. Because I love these people dearly, and genuinely care what they think of me I'm making an exception. Here then in a nutshell is why I would rather cough up a hairball, and die than vote for a republican.
My first awarness of anything political came in Prairie du Chein Wisconsin from listening to my fathers reletives argue. The ones with money were all staunch republicans, and the blue collar ones were all democrats. I remember JFK coming to town for a fundraiser at Guisler's Blue Heaven reasturant. My rich aunts n uncles were all.."why that S.O.B. I wish I could tell him a thing or two."
And my mom n dad just wished they could meet him.
I rember them arguing about "veet-nam" My republican relitives were always saying "Kennedy got us into this veetnam mess.", which I thought was weird because even I (A MERE 8 YEAR OLD) knew it was Eisenhowr that put the first boots on the ground in Vietnam. Ofcourse some people never let annoying little things like facts ruin a good rant. I also remember it was my republican reletives fussing, and, and complaining so much about the Beatles hair, that I couldn't enjoy them on Ed Sulivan that historic night. I guess they've always been the Grouchy Old Party.
When my mother's side of the family decided to go forward with their divorce plans it was decided I needed to be fetched down here to Tennessee lest the evil Kolbes hatch some plan to try to keep me. (I had been left with my gramma Kolbe for years, but that's a different post.) The divorce went through uncontested, and shortly there after we moved into the Monterey housing project. Mom worked long hard hours in the Monterey Drycleaners, but it wasn't enough. We had no rent or utilities to speak of, but still a single mother trying to feed, and cloth three children? Thank GOD for the housing projects, comodities, foodstamps, and welfare!! Without them we would have starved. Without them we would have had NO access to even the most basic healthcare. Without them we would have been living in a tarpaper shack with no indoor plumbing. Entitlement programs made my life, and my family's decent.Bearable. ALL of those programs came from democrats. Were defended by democrats. Were under fire from Republicans.
I have been called project trash. Listened to people ranting about "those people" laying on their tush collecting their welfare n foodstamps...BULLCRAP!!! My mother worked her guts out for peanuts. I got my first job at 13 to try to help. I thank God for the politicians that cared more about wether or not I had food to eat, than EXXON'S bottom line.
In the nineteen seventies I met a man who had just retired from thirty-five years at TVA, camping out at Centerhill Lake. We struck up a conversation that eventually led to politics. He explained to me how lobbiests work. How they influence goverment, and which partys are in bed with which lobbys. And he was right. Once I started looking it was easy to see. It didn't take me long to see that as long as the smokestacks were belching, and lots of cash changing hands the republicans were happy. He told me "Son unless you make $50,000.00 or more a year (and remember this was the 70s) you'ed be a fool to vote republican. I NEVER FORGOT THAT.
So there you have it brothers, and sisters. They can wrap themselves in the flag, and preach about the constitution. They can rant about abortion, and homosexuality, all they want to. I know them well. They only worship money, and power. And they are no more moral than the democrats. I AM NOT FOOLED.
JERRY KOLBE
SEPT 2010

THE MYTH OF THE REPUBLICAN HALO

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A friend of mine recently posted on his facebook page that he wanted to impeach Obama, and all the other democrooks...democrooks was the straw that broke the camel's back. I have had enough.
I have, for the most part, put up with the strident wail, and knashing of teeth from the republicans since losing the presidency, but geese louise!! I have NEVER seen such political sourgrapes in my life! "It's time to take back America!" From who you blockheads? That pesky majority that voted you out of office? Every time I turn on my tv or cpu some conservative sourpuss is ranting like a lunatic, and name calling over something. Between that blowhard egomaniac Limbaugh, and his muckraking bookend Glen Beck, you would think that somehow the democrats had conspired, and stole the election. (Oh wait a minute..that was "Jeb n Dubbya" in Florida a few years ago, wasn't it?)
The ink hadn't even dried on the inauguration papers when the mud slinging, and name calling began. I SWEAR i haven't seen the republicans this stirred up since..oh yeah the last time they lost the white house. (i'm sure that was a conspiracy then too. It couldn't have been that the people had actually spoken.) But I digress. My point is though that the political bile has never ceased. They sit there in Washington with their hands folded blocking EVERYTHING, and then accuse Obama of not getting anything done. They try to turn the oil spill into some sort of failing of his. And the incessant name calling..MY GOD! Would you people listen to yourselves? He's a socialist ! He's a Muslim! He is the anti-christ! (THE ANTI-CHRIST??!!) I think you all, as a party, should take a valium. sit down. Take a deep breath. and move on. You lost. There is another election coming.
And in the mean time know this. Just because you vote pro life, and anti gay does not mean you are moral. I AM SICK TO DEATH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY BEING BLANKETLY GIVEN THE MORAL HIGH GROUND ON TWO ISSUES! It is crap people. So I noted a couple of exceptions to the rule here..
RUSH LIMBAUGH...After preaching against drugs, and drug users for decades he got busted with enough schedule 1 narcotics to start his own pharmacy! To quote from a press article of the time.."he received about 2,000 painkillers, prescribed by four doctors in six months, at a pharmacy near his Palm Beach mansion. " 2000! Do you know what would happen to an average joe caught with that many pills? I'll tell you. They would be charged with distributing, and thrown in prison. Did this happen to Rush? No. He made a deal, some money changed hands, and he was back on the radio as the point man for the moral athority. And all his loyal fans said...aaawww Poor Rush..He was sick. Let's pray for him.

Ronald Reagan....The Holy Grail of Republican virtue...was up to his neck in the Iran-Contra scandal.....

An August, 1996, series in the San Jose Mercury News by reporter Gary Webb linked the origins of crack cocaine in California to the contras, a guerrilla force backed by the Reagan administration that attacked Nicaragua's Sandinista government during the 1980s. Webb's series, "The Dark Alliance," has been the subject of intense media debate, and has focused attention on a foreign policy drug scandal that leaves many questions unanswered.

Newt Gringrich...One of the loudest finger pointers in decades...has a string of ethic, and moral short coming to answer to on judgement day....

http://www.realchange.org/gingrich

I could go on. There is PLENTY MORE.

BUSH...dubbya..

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"Enron contributed $736,800 to George W. Bush over the past eight years, his single largest contributor. Many are looking for a smoking gun that will link Enron, directly, to specific favors. They want to see what specific decisions Enron bought. It is possible that such decisions will be uncovered, the evidence supplied."

The day..THE VERY DAY This story broke..The shredding, and burning (which was allowed somehow to continue) and shredding of documents began at Enron.

As any open minded person can clearly see there is PLENTY of mud to sling at those republican halos.So don't come at me wrapped in the flag with a bible in one hand, and preach to me about the moral giants of the republican party. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. The wheeling, and dealing begins at the local level, and by the time they reach the federal level they have scratched so many backs, and slept with so many lobyists, their isn't a clean hand among them. DEMOCRAT..REPUBLICAN..KLINGON..whatever.....

HEY!!!!!!!!! welcome to the future

HEY!! republicans,democrats,house cats, comunists,maoist socialist, and misfits. christians, wicans muslims, hindus, buhdists, nihlist atheist racist,bogots...SIT DOWN! SHUT UP!!! STOP COMPLAINING WHINING PREACHING ACCUSING BLAMING DISCLAIMING AND INFLAMING.....FOR ONE MINUTE,,PLEASE.
YOU SEE THIS???



this isn't about you. this doesn't belong to you. this is about US. ALL of us. this belongs to ALL OF US. and it's all we've got.
WE NEED IT. and we need each other.
YOU SEE THIS?


a bunch of us got to gether, and built this. to try, and figure it all out, and make home a better place. If we can do it up there..we can do it down there....OR THIS BECOMES A LIFEBOAT....
welcome to the future

LE GORMET RUSTRE

THIS IS POSTED ON MY NEW UTUBE PAGE. NEW CONTENT ON THE WAY...

THE LITERALLY SMOKING MAN.....

START VIDEO..THEN READ.


The graveyard was old, and overgrown. It lay back in the woods on the hill behind the swamp. Most of the graves predated the Civil War. Not the one the lightning struck. That grave belonged to Corp. Billy T. Raybourne, Confederate States of America. Was it the power of the strike? A methane pocket? Whatever the cause, the grave had became a smoking crater, with a splintered empty coffin, a blackened headstone, and the literally smoking man..
I awakened with the memory of an incredibly loud noise echoing in my head. Rain drummed on the tin roof, thunder rumbled, and boomed rattling the windows. Head still fuzzy with interrupted sleep I made my way down the hall to the kitchen, stabbed the power button on the coffee machine, and went out on the porch to watch it rain. My eyes drifted up the grassy hill, as they usually did, past the dotted row of little cedars, past the lone tree near the crest, to the treeline. Was that smoke drifting from the trees? It was, not much, but it was there.
I went in the house, and grabbed my binoculars. Tossing the case on the couch, I ran back outside, and focused on the treeline. The
smoke was gone, I figured if lightning had set anything on fire, the rain must have put it out. I continued to scan the tree line for a few minutes as the rain slacked off to a misty drizzle. The coffee pot was calling.
I carried a hot steaming cup out, and sat down to enjoy the fine gray rainy day. I know I'm weird I love days like this. It seems to me to be a good time to think, create, contemplate ...._ I Saw a tiny glow flair in the shadow of the trees, and a thin wisp of smoke wafted in the breeze, and was gone. I reached for the binoculars. THERE. As I focused in the glow became two, flared, dimmed, and left another wisp of smoke. Was somebody up there? Maybe smoking cigarettes? That's what it reminded me of. But two in unison? I had it! One person giving another a light of his smoke. Yeah that was...There it was again, and in the binoculars it was again, twin orange glows followed by a puff of thin gray smoke. Then it-he? stepped out of the tree line, and my blood turned to ice. I couldn't be seeing this. This only happens in fiction. But there it was. A black shadowy figure in full Confederate gray .complete with black billed gray hat. With orange coals for eyes, that flared in the occasional breeze, then wafted twin streams of smoke. The literally smoking man.
I stood glued to the spot as if my shoes had taken root, the binoculars frozen to my face, I couldn't look away. He-it began a slow shambling, swaying walk down the hill, as if it were semi boneless. Like a walking scarecrow. Stopping occasionally to flare balefully, and smoke from his eyes. I didn't know what to do.Should I call someone? Who? And tell them what? That a burning man in a confederate uniform was walking down the hill towards my house? Sweat stung my eyes.I wiped my cold clammy forehead with the hand that held the binoculars.The empty spilled coffee cup hung from the other forgotten. He stopped again seeming to "look" right where I stood. Could it see? What did he want? WHAT WAS IT?!
As it reached the bottom of the hill it was lost to view behind the houses across the rain wet street. It was almost as if a spell had been broken. I could act! And do what? Run? Barricade myself behind locked doors? Would a locked door stop that thing? My pistol! I had no idea what effect it may have on that shambling, smoking thing, but I wanted that gun in my hand more than anything! Dropping the cup, and binoculars, I ran back into my house.Yanking open my desk drawer, I grabbed my fully loaded .38, and headed back out the door. I had to see where it was...if it was still coming.
And there it stood in the gray morning rain , in the middle of my street. Arms loosely at it's side, head facing directly at me, one "eye" was huge, and misshapen now covering a portion of it's hellish face. The wind gusted, and it flared smoked, and flared again! The whole side of it's head became a glowing fiery coal. I stood frozen in it's spell again. Pistol dangling uselessly from my forgotten hand. Flames flickered from the growing coal now covering the whole top of it's head! It took a staggering step. Raised it's arms, palms up . One fell off in a shower of sparks revealing a flaming stump! It uttered a raspy groan straight from hell, and collapsed into a pile of flaming ashes,,,and was gone. Thunder rumbled menacing. Another storm was coming.

FRUSTRATION

i'm sick, and tired of our brave warriors being expended for nothing in wars that people get tired of, and politicians don't have the courage to finish. It started in Korea, continued in Vietnam, and how many more? I SUPPORT our military wherever they are sent, and thank God for them all. But PLEASE..republicans/democrats..set goals before deploying, and stay the course. WE OWE OUR SERVICE MEN, AND WOMEN THIS.

DISCOVERY 2010

Flickr: Your Photostream

PAGE 43...

There are milestones in this life we await with impatient joy. Drivers liscence,prom,first kiss,being 21!! And there are those that come all too soon, such as the passing or fading away of a precious loved one. Where as we don't celebrate them all, we should..must..take the time to take in all that each has to offer. Ride the waves of joy with fists held high, and a song in yor heart. Wrap yourself in the comfort of family, and good friends to weather the storms. Larry, my friend, this post is dedicated to you, and yours.

Recently I had the chance to go back in time to a part of my life I remember with great joy, though the catylist for the event came from a friend's enduring one of those storms. Larry's mom was in the local hospital in ailing health, and his trip home to Tennessee dealt with that. I'll leave details out of this post out of respect of the family.

Larry arrived at my home,with his nephew Keven, and after a round of nostalgia with my host, Mark Boles, and an annual from 1970's Senior High, we set out for Wayne Smith's rural White county farm. wayne is Larry's double first cousin (see them for an explaination of that). Wayne met us at the door, and led us out to his barnyard where he had just built a fine chicken coop. He was burning the scrap wood. The white oak burned hot in the chill windy April night. Accrid smokes mingled around us, as the wind chased us around the fire. Accoustic guitars came out of cases, and the joy of wooden music added it's "magic" to the mix.

I was swept back in time. Feelings, faces, and voices from the past flooded my soul I immediatly thought of this Crosby tune. How long had it been since I'd sat around a campfire with these men? Decades faded away, and my heart was young again! It was "the same old circle" like Crosby sings...you see/ it's got to be/ it says right here on page 43 that you should grab ahold of it else you'll find it's passed you by.

Stop my friends. Recognize these moments for what they are. Endure what you must, you have friends, and family to help you carry the load. But celebrate, and linger in the joys.

Life is fine...even with the ups and downs....

ROLL WITH THE CHANGES

The sun is warm on my face. My wind chimes play their tuneless melody in the light breeze. The hissing roar of 111 competes with an industrial hum from off toward Algood. I'm sitting on the back deck of a 3bdrm brick house I share (occasionaly)with my longtime Bro Mark. I have landed my one man road show that is my life at yet another address.

I won't go into the events that led to my leaving over there. They are personal "family" business. I'll just say that Dan wanted his house back. I am extremely gratefull for the decade or so of cordial hospitality I enjoyed there. Ann & Dan welcomed me into their home when I had nowhere else to go, and generously allowed me to raise two wonderfull daughters there (With all the drama that entails).Dan all your help with my ongoing cpu woes, and other personal business has been invaluable to me. Anna I will miss us being together again. It was incredibly sweet. Taz,Nicky,and THE Little Bitty Kitty Commitee.."Get off my keyboard!!"

I will miss "the outback" or as Tommy & I liked to call it..The friendly confines. It was like being out in the woods in that backyard-right in the middle of the city. I will miss Grandfather tree enormously. I plan to get a cutting & start another chapter in that story. I'll miss The Knotty Pines Bar, and all the great times I had out there withDad, and especially Tommy. I'll miss the Tech. chimes on the quarter hour..I'll miss that whole neighborhood! (almost)

Their are no L-blocks* here. No halfway houses no street crime. The ambiance here is completely differen't. This neighborhood is NOT hip. It is genteel laidback American Suburbs. This neighborhood hasn't changed in the thirty years I've been coming here. Hank Jr. said it best.."The new south thank God it's still the same. It is all familys here. Mostly boomers,all Tenn. country folk. They walk in the evenings for exersise, or to get their dogs out. They talk to each other, and introduce themselves. And not a loud boombox car thumping that hidious rap garbage for miles..I have landed in heaven on earth.

LOST IN SPADES

Change is part of life I except that. In the last couple of years though I've had enough "change"to last a lifetime. I was a happy daddy with two beautifull girls.I had a good steady income from CGC. I've had a home with my sister, and bro in law for a decade. I was a Pentacostal Christian on fire for God, and a member of the local jail ministry. Now I have lost both daughters. Been told I am no longer welcome here in this house. I've worked maybe eight days since New Years. I've missed church for almost a year, and I've been in jail (For getting behind on Kacy's court costs n fines.) I was reeling like a losing boxer. I felt totally adrift. No foundation. Nothing to stand on. No reference point. Totally lost. I got a call from Kacy recently telling me I needed to call Roy Cannon. I need to get back in church. I made the phone call.
Surprise. I have a reference point. A "solid rock" foundation. I was never lost. God knew exactly where I was. And true to his word (if we reach out to him he reaches out to us) after three wonderfull church services I am no longer afraid. I . am no longer feeling alone. And though change is all around me right now I know that The Lord is the same.."yesterday today, and tomorrow."