A ZOO, of course

The hypnotic chorus of “......he must have lost a book” continued repeating ~ until it tired, and gave its final breath as a silence that naked trees danced to..... in still motion.

It was to those trees I awoke from that dream.

In varying degrees, dreams, which conjure themselves from rich memories mixed in secret laboratories of the mind, become part of everyday life.

I found that in pursuing the most fantastic of dreams, it is of greatest importance to cover my butt.

D r I f t

As a short-term goal – something we can accomplish by the end of this school year, what would be your dream idea for our class project. I asked my seniors at Koforidua Secondary School in the Fall of 1970. I was quickly overwhelmed with enthusiastic suggestions. In no time at all, however, a fever pitched winner evolved in a unanimous uproar: a ZOO. Instantaneously, I roared back approval – a Zoo, it shall be.

From where would any possible hesitancy come?

That I had lacked the background, training, education, experience in such matters didn't give me any pause........... whatsoever.

I did get my only “D” in seven or so years of college in Zoology, but that was a passing grade. Adding to that, my family had a Cocker-spaniel when I was growing up (that just disappeared one day, and another Terrier-type dog appeared as our new dog – and I never thought about that until now) …....and.............I had (more or less) over a hundred ant killings to my curricula vitae.

**apologies to my dear friend, Steph – actually, Steph, it would be best if you did not read the next paragraph

Then there were untallied scores of fly smashings, spider smearings {under a foot well protected by shoe} and cockroach crunching [unfortunately, I am unable to certify the events just south of Mobile, Alabama, in which I torched an old boat cushion full of those orthopterous pests single handed]

Thus, with those sterling credentials, I boldly said “.....if you find any animals, just bring them to me – and tell everyone that”.

…............................everyone..........................

to be continued...

Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures, every Sunday!

Happy daze,

The Captain

 

I think, I do.....I think

By outre' grace I have managed, at least up to now, to keep my fascination with the point where every bit of energy in the universe exists, balanced with the activities of every day living.

Having enjoyed an American meal of ________ descent by putting one's metaphysics where one's mouth is – the question presents itself: How does the average person put their metaphysics where their reality is?

Personally, I draw on my classic education when the question constantly arises. Father Kent, at Weber high school, actually provided a formula for living the well balanced life.

Father Peters, a professor at St Procopius college, told of the commonality we all share in this regard. He referred to the example of Albert Einstein and Charles Richter. So involved in discussing the theory of earthquakes, while walking through the Cal tech campus, the pair were oblivious to an earthquake occurring underfoot.

So for one renewable energy resource, in our three dimensional universe, I go with conviction for the locale where aplomb, adventure, and absurdity intersect.

Of course, there are shadowy events in life that contribute to the harmony of health and the life well mirthed.

D r I f t

time: unknown

My mind's memory was an efficient librarian fetching stored prints depicting

Chiaroscuro in the frescoes of the Italian High Renaissance.

...............

The repeating word “Correggio”, “Correggio”… hauntingly filled the air......…………….

Books, books............... all around...........I was sitting in the sun on 23^rd street in Portland, Oregon.................

or maybe it was Erat Kilo in Addis Ababa – book vendors, people, milling about.

I went to check out a place that specialized in the works of St Hyacinth and the Vatican. Just before I was leaving with my find, an official had me sign a statement ( that they would copy and email to me) certifying that I had a very old book – one with no available rated value because it was so old. I took it and left. As I was descending the store's huge marble steps, I saw a child of five or six that looked very much like the student nurse, Samantha, I was with that afternoon. My companion was out of sight. The youngster was alone, and partially covered with spaghetti. I came over to her to see if everything was okay, but in doing so left the old book behind by a tree. Gathering up some napkins on my way, I saw the little one's parents approaching – they seemed somehow familiar. My friend returned. The child's parents were grateful for my concern, thanked us both and departed.........but in their departure, and the arrival of my companion, there was a blur of energy – something like heat.

I went to find the old bk, and it was gone..........the tree replaced by little stalls of wares rich with the aroma of kabobs cooking over open fires. I wasn't sure which was more intriguing - the sudden appearance of the kiosks or the specter of those parents I had just left as a couple meeting, marrying, and birthing that very child some years into the future. My thoughts on this curious series of events were teased away from logic by the scents of the market and the sound of people echoing each other with a hypnotic chorus of “he must have lost a book.”

So.......

....to be continued...................

Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures every Sunday!

Happy daze,

The Captain

...you're what?

From that childhood quest to get positioned, for going one step beyond the known universe with God, the core of my life has been continuously ignited by the point.
The point, per se, intriguingly obscure to me still today, does ease into a conscious sweet reality, however, as............. stew of the Great Melting Pot.
For traversing the everyday life, my parents constantly tended a path of beautiful harmony. One of my earliest comprehensions was what I was.
To ensure the spirit had all the necessary provisions for my journey, at the age of five, outside the walls of my home and into the remote areas across Diversey Avenue, they drilled me on primary questioning: “What are you?”
They created an integration of their love of the Polish culture, with the love of the American Spirit, while  being non-judgmental of all other peoples. The axiom upon which this passionate and compassionate outlook was based is being American of Polish descent. This was an absolutely crucial element in their identity.
In having the good fortune to be in a country that had brilliantly established a doctrine of "separation of church and state" my parents were free to be "American" without restraint, and still be totally devoted to their faith. Whatever came to bear, their national identity and religion were exclusive.
I cannot tell you the number of times my Father and Mother preached to me how exactly to identify myself in this regard.
For me to say I was: "Polish" - "Polish American" – or - "American" - simply was wrong and unacceptable; it was American of Polish descent and nothing else was accurate. America was the country they were citizens of, and they were extremely proud of that, often expressing it with unabashed emotions. As fully engaged Americans they were determined to have their children live out the American Dream to its fullest. The entirely undiminished honor present in their Polish heritage mandated the recognition of one fundamental underlying truth: the vitality of their contributions to America as a nation was inherent in them being of "Polish descent". As grammar school kid, I gleefully saw this as "having my cake and eating it". Only as I grew older did I realize the absolute beauty of execution in a harmonious blend of totalities sovereign in psyche and emotion. There were some everyday practical applications as well, for example, with more than my share of pimples, ill-timed erections, and hormone storm craziness to deal with, I was free, thank you Dad and Mom, from adolescent ethnic embroilment.

And thanks for the continuing joy in the American cuisine, of infinite ethnic descents.
Just recently in my childhood neighborhood, I relished, with old friends, a sumptuous home made tamale one day ~ and savory home made kielbasa the next.

We had great fun partaking in this duo of American meals – one of Hispanic descent and one of Polish descent ~~ Hence the self-talk: “.............. put your mouth where your metaphysics is”.

Join Captain Flip Side in his True life adventures
Every Sunday
Happy Daze,
The Captain

Cinque

Reading for February 14, 2010

What prevailed on that zany Sunday in the early 19560s was guilt.

Guilt, then, fused with conscience.

The Holy Family Nuns and the Resurrectionist Fathers introduced this duo to the Fear of God, and complete my psycho-spiritual trinity. This trinity would be forged by, and with, two other operatives to become my cinque.

One of these operatives was passion.

As long as I can remember, people, things, ideas......... had wonderful energy that enthused me. I am most thankful to my parents, for not only validating my zest, but having nurtured my sense of self as one that could employ this vivacity as an important tool of life.

My Father and Mother were lovingly dedicated parents. They made an extraordinary effort to build my self-esteem by paving a road of positiveness.

There were miracles, but no magic.

I had the ability to do anything ~ but not something anyone else couldn't do.

Miracles, impossibilities possible, and hopes fulfilled were part of the Karwowski way of life. Occasionally, enlightened encouragement would come in remarks. as my dad or mom would effortlessly point out examples of successes, if they sensed the slightest self-doubt in me. “If your stupid cousin __________, could do it, you certainly can” - or “so and so just made up their mind to do it and did it”

.

Ardor and passion were simply part of my family. They were critical ingredients in the crucible of alchemy that yielded the fuel necessary to turn dreams into reality.

Sometimes there was a dramatic scene or an unfolding adventure that highlighted things getting done by determination as in the family history. Mom's rise from depths of poverty and dad's becoming the first family professional, were just two of a family constellation which included Grandfather Paul's journey through Ellis Island with $25.00 and the clothes on his back.

With my brothers, there was the uphill climb, over high school teachers declarations of ridiculous fantasy for a kid from your patch of the city, of Bob to graduate as a mining engineer.

There's brightness in the future, as Jerry continues to generate new dreams as the old ones, like carrying the Olympic torch, come true; and ingenuity from Eagle Scout Thad who paddled a disabled boat safely to harbor with only a hockey stick.

Through my entire basic training, I was given a rock solid foundation from parents who deeply loved.

To ensure the spirit had all the necessary provisions for my journey outside the walls of my home and into the remote areas across Diversey Avenue, they drilled me on the answer to primary questioning: “What are you?”

…..........to be continued.................................

Join Captain Flip Side in his True life adventures
Every Sunday
Happy Daze,
The Captain

The Big Game

Reading for February 7, 2010

Every human being is in. This is it. 

Stakes are high as the teams line up against each other. Drills in the essentials continue over and over – as every player knows that there can never be too much attention given to whats really important. For when the going gets tough, its going to come down to the basics. The fundamentals of old plays and all available knowledge will have to be weighed, in an instant, with what needs to be done at the moment the opposition is brutally bearing down. There may some bad calls from the referees, and sheer luck as from a Hail Mary play; but success will come from a 100% team effort. Only then, with our entire line up, casting off bad habits, respecting each others abilities, pulling together, and athletically combining the sacred of the known and unknown, will that dazzling victory be seized.

The clock is running. 

We have the ball ...................... its the earth.

Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures every Sunday!

Happy daze,

The Captain

magic Cape

Reading for January 31, 2010

Last Sunday left Charlie and I in St. Hyacinth's version of the Bermuda Triangle.

Possessed by idiocy, with no exorcist on the premises, we only regained our senses as the mass ended and church let out. Well, not quite all our senses, but enough to know - as we hit the courtyard – that the shit was hitting the fan.

Whatever murkiness of the triangle's depth that remained was removed as soon as I met up with my dad in the schoolyard. Man, was my father red in the face.

While I was totally oblivious to the rest of the people in church ~ neither they, nor my Father, were unaware of my antics. Antics that ~ I soon learned ~ were so outrageously disruptive, they earned me the one and only strapping of my life.

Frantically, self survival instincts scrambled to draw my Dad's attention to my innocent as a lamb essence.

“I can't wait to say the rosary tonight with you, mom, Bob and Jerry!”..........” I'm never, ever again, going to hide anything sharp under the seat cushion for Bob to sit on!”.....”I'll always eat everything on my plate and won't ever feed the dog under the table anymore!”

The light of a minor infraction at the end of the tunnel of easy pardon went off as I observed my father’s neck veins bulging.

“Go change your clothes, you’re going to bed without dinner” I was ordered.

While burning with guilt, I was called, from my adjacent bedroom, into the kitchen where my Father was explaining, with uncharacteristic drama - to my mother - what I had done. Upon entering the kitchen dressed in my t-shirt, shorts, and a bathroom, I discovered that it wasn’t the kitchen at all. It was the Roman Coliseum arena, and it reeked of carnage yet to come. Oh shit!

With a manner I have never before seen, nor thankfully, ever seen again, my Father took off his belt, commanded me to turn around and began his one and only ever whipping of me.

In the terrible intensity of a moment gone all wrong, came a surprising escape. The belt that my dad was using to give me a “strapping” as was the term, found itself hitting my bathrobe and not me. This was possible because, as the bathrobe hung straight down, I instinctively arched my butt away from the swinging belt, and space was created between my robe and my bottom. This miraculous guardian angel space was just large enough to absorb the strap, and small enough to be unseen. It actually took a few seconds for me to realize this as I awaited the painful contact that never came. Once that dawned on me, I gave an award performance hollering, yelping, and bawling. Fortunately for me as well, my Father’s strapping was over before I had to improvise further acting techniques such as throwing myself onto the floor and faking a seizure or the like.

I gladly hastened to bed to be free of the whole mess, the real pain remaining as the emotional anguish in having caused such discomfort and disappointment for my Dad.

Whatever angel/good-luck/magic/spirit/saint that intervened, thankfully continued late into the afternoon. Just as I was resigning myself to the fact that there would be no trip to the toy wonderland, I glowed with restrained delight as my parents announced we could make it to the warehouse for the last hour if we hurried. If I didn't exceed light speed then, well........ all the laws of physics were proved sound.

Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures every Sunday!

Happy daze,

The Captain

Out of Control

Reading for January 24, 2010

It all started innocently enough. I remember it well. In the 1950s, my father would close his drugstore at one in the afternoon every Sunday. After the spirited antics of my older brothers at the big family lunch, in fall, it happened.

My little skull was filled with gifts of Christmas merriment, as I looked forward to a trip to a real wonderland. During the holidays one of the wholesale outfits from where my dad purchased his merchandise, opened their warehouse doors to customers. The wonderland was in their warehouse wherein several rooms full of toys existed - existed for me to pick out my Christmas gifts............there was a hair-pin turn ahead, though, upon which I would loose total control.

Attendance at Sunday's morning mass was part of life. The mass for school children was at eight in the morning, so with my Father opening his store at 10 am. he too attended the 8 o’clock mass. So it was that I found myself in the area of the great church under the auspices of Sister Spongia..........soon to be St Hyacinth's own Bermuda triangle.

My classmate Charles was next to me. Charlie and I equaled disaster. Sinister forces probably from the “triangle” came into Charlie and me and totally possessed us. Our “possession” made us manifest the ultimate of all possessed states: uncontrollable loud and totally disruptive laughter. Yes........... we were in the most feared of all “loss of control” states: silliness. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could make Charlie and I stop laughing. We were literally turned into ridiculousness. When I started to edge toward self-control, Charlie would jinx me, and I would go to pieces. When Charlie started to take himself seriously, I would hit him with an idea so hare-brained, he would crack up.

Charlie and I were warned by the nun repeatedly; but it was of no use. We fed off each others’ deepest core of nonsense and became doomed as we were sucked into the triangle’s vortex of complete idiocy. Our only hope was in, of course, an exorcism. The mass ended before an exorcist was found, and I was …...............
to be continued............

Join Captain Flip Side in his true life adventures every Sunday!


Happy daze,


The Captain