PostPosted: Fri Aug 31, 2007 8:25 pm    Post subject:


Dan, Antonio and moi were invited to a social gathering in Insaneo, I mean Encino. It’s the home of the producers of the up coming film Woodpecker Waltz, Max and Micheline Keller. There is no need to tell you how exclusive their neighborhood was or the fact it had a bazillion dollar view of the San Fernando Valley. The view was to die for and if I did not pay attention, I would have fallen off the balcony.

We were met by Grand Ma Herskovic Max and Michelin. Again, here I be without a clue as to who was who. I knew I should have bought a People Magazine before we got there. At least I would have had a clue as to what some of these folks were famous for. At least Andy Rooney and his mad briefcase was not there. Must have gotten lost on the 405 and ended up in Bakersfield. Bet he was miserable driving all around Bakersfield looking for Mich’s home.

Wish Carole, my editor and dominatrix, had my blog up and running since I have a few pictures to share as well. Of course, I brought my Sharpe Marker and made sure to draw up an ad for NativeVue in the John wall. I even included Carole’s phone number and it states; “For a good time call Carole at 1-900-CAROLE”. No need to thank me Carole and just so you know, I advertised in all the Can’s I used across America this trip. Just check out a Flying “J” Truck Stop, well their bathrooms.

Anyway, Max was busy cooking up a storm. His specialty was Paella, a Spanish dish that included lobster, every shell fish known to man, crab and a host of other goodies from the sea. It was totally awesome and I wish I brought my Tupperware since I had already loaded up my Wal-Mart Bags with 7 containers. The Tres Amigo’s chowed down like there was no tomorrow. We had to since all them folks from the Pages of People were wolfing it down like they came straight off the rez. There was almost a fight when some French actor stole the last lobster. I almost grabbed it when his girlfriend tackled me just before I got it. His name is Pierre and actually he was a nice guy and we had a very good chat, except for the lobster incident. But man, that Paella was the bomb and it did me good to watch as the Hollywood elite chowed like us Injuns. Food was flying, Bon Appetite.

Dan, Antonio and I found a spot to sit where we could watch THEM since we knew they would eventually gang up on us and steal our Paella. Then as if on cue, THEY began to come to our table. Dan called it the PTSD table since I always get a table in a corner so I can watch the crowd and have my back covered. And with this Paella, I was not taking any chances. There was a retired judge who was quite impressed with Dan’s script since she used to dole out the death penalty from time to time. Holay, she was drop dead gorgeous. She was absolutely brilliant and I enjoyed our conversation. I could have talked with her all night long since I am fascinated by perspectives from all quarters in life and she had a vantage point I never would have had the chance to explore. I called her the shoeless judge since well, she did lose her shoes at the party, don’t ask. I know she is going to read this…lol. I also know she was after my Paella.

Later I ran into a gal,Nancy. She was married to a guy named Tillotson. She was drop dead gorgeous as well. I know it’s not the water but there was something about the gals at this party that would make any coyote howl at night eh, Oy Vey. Well we were cutting jokes and enjoying the evening when she introduced me to her hubby. He was a very kewl guy and I simply enjoyed their company. Then he mentioned that he was writing songs since the 60’s. Hmmmmm, I thought to myself. Then I asked which songs he wrote and produced. Does Earth Angel, Poetry In Motion or Talk Back Trembling Lips ring a bell? Well I was sitting with non other than Johnny Tillotson. I thought it was way bitchen since I did enjoy his tunes. But Johnny was far from done with his career since he has written many tunes and songs for film and tv since them days. I also got a F-R-E-E CD from him. Cheesy huh, but I was tripping since I was going to buy the album before I met him anyway. Such a deal………….

Man, I was walking on fresh frybread imagine, F-R-E-E food and a F-R-E-E CD as well. It just doesn’t get any better than that. Course I had a great time with “Sarah” the French film producer at the Châteaux Marmont earlier this month. The only problem was the serving size. And yes folks, it was F-R-E-E. The valet parking thing was not so spiffy though. I just hate strangers parking my car, they want a tip!! But I did enjoy pissing Andy Rooney off or at least I thought it was Andy Rooney. Now that I think about it, it could have been Dominic Dunn, another miserable little man with a miserable briefcase. I still think they are brothers, Andy and Dominic.

As we drove away a wonderful feeling came over me. At least now we did not have to worry about the cops pulling us over since we were guests. Course my ride did not quite fit the profile of the community though. I did not see any 65 Valiants anywhere around. I like the push button transmission controls on the dash. The cloud of smoke from my exhaust only added to the mystic of our Hollywood adventure. So, with a back fire and a cloud of dark smoke we said farewell to our Hollywood hosts and made tracks for Pacoima.

Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind



PostPosted: Fri Sep 07, 2007 10:57 am    Post subject:


Just read a news clip where the World Health Organization found that depression was the leader in debilitating diseases world wide. This was from a study they did using a Quality-of-life index or Global Mean Health Score. With a scale ranging from 1 to 100, diabetes scored 78.9, other chronic non lethal diseases scored an average of about 80 and non chronic diseases scored 90.6 over shadowing depression which scored a dismal 72.9. In short the quality of life from people depression was the lowest according to their findings.

And I quote;

“Our findings are consistent with earlier studies that have shown a high degree of association between depression and disability,” commented lead author Saba Moussavi of the WHO and colleagues.

A British journal called “The Lancet” where this study was posted, says that depression accounts for the greatest share of non-fatal disease burden, accounting for almost 12 percent of total years lived with disability worldwide.

What’s my take on all this? Well I wonder exactly how many of the sufferers of depression worldwide are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After all world history is much like Native history but on a grander scale since so many people have died or simply killed for land, oil and religion. Hmmm sounds familiar eh. What did all these people die for? What crimes did they commit that justified the wholesale murder of cultures around the world anyway? It’s all about the money Paisan, yup it’s all about the money. Course it takes on many faces such as natural resources like wood, oil, diamonds and of course gold.

Reminds me of the movie “War of the Worlds” where these space dudes come to Earth just to consume all the natural resources with no regard to the human population. At least the space aliens were honest and did not use the bogus flag of religion, world peace or “Homeland Security” as a guise to garner their ill-gotten bounty. They just started zapping Earthlings left and right. So it was easy for us Earth guys to figure out who the bad guy was. Today where the wolves are wearing sheep’s clothing, the enemy is hard to find.
It’s my hunch these culprits are not that hard to find though. Just look at the people who are pushing for this ‘New World Odor” crappola and I’ll bet you will discover the goons at the top of this elaborate Ponzi Scheme. And like I was taught a long time ago on the streets, “Just follow the money” and you will discover that this is a world wide conspiracy. And the victims of this lusting for material wealth are all the Indigenous people of the world. With this history in mind Post Traumatic Stress Disorder may very well be the core of depression world wide. You can bank on it, just read your history before these books are burned in an orgy of hate like they were back in Nazi Germany.

This old Sicilian/Jew I worked for told me many years ago that you can only trust history for about 500 years since the older history has been re-written to coincide with the current contemporary wisdom. Just cause it’s written down does not mean it’s true. And if you tell a lie long enough people will begin to believe it’s true. Just ask Herman Goering or Adolph Hitler since they won over a nation with their lies about Zionism to justify the murder of a race of people. And book burning was the norm back then also.

Seems Cortez did his share of book burning back in ole Mexico when they torched up hundreds of libraries the Aztecs had only saving a few of their works. What were they afraid of? What did the conquers discover that required them to destroy millions of books and the true history of these people? Granted they took everything out of context with the hand full of books to justify the wholesale murder of the Aztec people. And yes, it was all about the money back then as well. Gold, Gold, Gold, Capice Paisan?

When Cortez finally left Mexico, he and his band of thugs killed every elder of the Aztec Nation and kept the kids for slaves. Small wonder many of the Natives from Mexico live in denial of their Native roots eh. The Catholic Church tortured them to death if they did not except Catholicism. Burning eyes out, loping feet and hands off as well was a common practice with all these dogma’s back in the day eh. What am I saying? It’s still going on to this day as America kills for oil in a thinly veiled “Holy War” as we kill for cash. PTSD will be the front runner for all the Iraqi People I do believe.

Dare I mention the murdering that is going on in Africa with little to no media attention? Guess there is no oil there so what the hell.

Guess that’s why us Natives stick to our oral histories since you can’t believe everything you read.

Your Devil’s Advocate
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

POST TRAMATIC STRESS DISORDER, a peak over my shoulder.

Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2007 8:18 pm    Post subject:
POST TRAMATIC STRESS DISORDER, a peak over my shoulder.

Ah yes another PTSD day for me eh. Nothing like waking up with a total feeling of fear and dread to start the day. At least I did not spray paint all my windows black and board up my doors, again. And since I live out in the Toolies I don’t have to mine the back yard to keep them pesky neighbors out either.

Does not seem to matter what’s going on in my life or how happy I am. When them PTSD’s hit, it’s a full meal deal and I get to enjoy total recall of tragic events I survived in the past. I could ramble on about the senseless beatings I received from the non native kids or my step-dad. I could ramble on about life on the streets and all the death I witnessed from the age of 15 on. But no, I think I will drone on and on about my daughter who died back in 1980. She died on my first attempt to go straight and leave the streets.

And boy did I try to be good. I even had an 8 to 4 job like the rest of the beepers and dingers. It was a struggle to work for only $700 a week. But I hung in there and for my efforts, my daughter died of SIDS. It just totally blew me away when she died to. The coroner was also an owner of a mortuary and he tried to hustle me into buying a grave and funeral for a mere $8,000.

Check this out eh. I told the coroner that I was not going to use his mortuary and the ole boy went ballistic. He went in the back and came out with my dead baby in his arms. Then he simply tossed her to me and that was that. When I caught her the tissue and gauze behind her head was off reveling a pie slice out of the back of her head. The coroner told me that’s where they took the brain sample out for the forensics people to examine.

So I took my baby Samantha from this pinheads office and went a Native friend of mine who also was a mortician. He was Jicarilla Apache, like Dan and Antonio by the way. He took my baby from me like she was still alive. He was ever so respectful of my child and he told me he would make all the arrangements. He prepared her and even gave me a little casket for my kid. I found a place to bury her and dug the grave myself. The prick of a coroner came up to me and measured the depth and width just to be a prick and make sure I was legal. But I got it done, placed my little girl back in Mother Earths arms and then I said good bye.

Later that day, I called my former employer as asked if I could be “active” once again. And in a few short months I was back in New York City or LA busting heads and collecting money for the boss. But this time I had major attitude since I felt that my spirit was truly gone. I was always a loner and craved excitement and danger. But this time, I went after it with a vengeance. I call it “Death by Shootout” but I’ll be damned if I was only hit two times.

I really went off the deep end this go around though fore I truly did not care anymore. After loosing my kid nothing mattered to me, nothing. I used to take risks all the time that was my specialty. But now that my attempt to walk a straight path turned to cow dung, I was king of the attitude and actually was quite insane since I took chances no one else in the organization ever took. Good thing to, it paid very well to do the impossible. And what did I have to loose? Nothing because I was already dead and I was only marking time till my sorry ass was puffed up and stinking.

In all probability I could have ended up as another torso bloated and floating around near the shore of Union City New Jersey. That was what happened to some Wiseguys that got in a pickle. The opposing gangs would lop off the head, arms and legs along with identifying marks and tattoos on the trunk of the body. Then they would dump the torso in the drink. That was standard operating procedure eh. Did I mention Sleeping bags and 55 gallon drums, I hope not. That’s another dark tale I’ll save for later.

Life and death was easy to cope with on the streets for me since death was my homeboy back in the day. But the death of my baby was a hard pill to swallow especially the vision of a pie slice out of the back of her head. I could see all the noodles in her brain cavity to.

So this is my week, PTSD Cha Cha and I’m doing the dance.

How was your week eh?

Your Devil’s Advocate
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind