leopards - pt. 5 (all the young girls love alice...)

the year of our lord 2008 is a year that will go down as infamous in the family records. of course, the incident that will stay indelibly marked on everyone's hearts, was the loss of Pierce Taylor Sharai. his passing marked the start of a year that has just reached the half-way point. several events have brought surprise to some and dismay to others.

Lirette is the focus of this almost final chapter of the "leopards don't change their spots" series of posts. and so i begins...

before Pierce died, we spoke vaguely about Lirette. i asked if he's seen her or had a chance to socialize with her. he told me that he, or Johnny, rarely saw her now that they had gotten older. she hung out with a different group of people than he did, so it was not anything manufactured with purpose.

i secretly let out a sigh of relief, as i still thought of the strong possibility of Lirette being my daughter.

the thought of them coming together by chance terrified me. over the years that passed from toddlers to teenagers, one cannot possibly know the pain that it caused. anyone thinking that i need to be punished for the act of origin is welcome to step in my shoes of that time. it was a running bad dream...

 i can't recall just how, but i found out that the father that she knew as her father had died of a heart attack close to two years ago. i was quite taken, as he was a friend of many years. despite the estrangements, we had still grown up together and it made me quite sad to think of his passing.

at the same time, though, it rekindled my curiousity to find out more about Lirette. however, i had no way to contact her without her thinking i was insane. i could just see calling her and saying, "hi Lirette. you don't really know me, but i think i'm your father. may i have some time to - CLICK!" right. she'd have hung up on me in an instant. then she would have told Mom L, and that could have disastrous consequences.

when the tragedy of Pierce came, i was unprepared to handle anything of an emotional nature. it was all i could do to keep from collapsing. there were many family members, friends and acquaintences at the funeral home. it brought about a conundrum in the fact that i wanted it to all be over; but i dreaded it drawing to a close. the lid would close on the casket and he would be gone forever. the finality of it was making my head spin.

but wonderful and incredible friends like Woody and Mairi, Woody Sr., Roger Kennedy and all of the Hired Gunz scenario paintball team, the entire New Orleans paintball community, and so many others that i couldn't begin to thank were steadfastly there. of course, Karen, Alyson, Mitchell and Kat were there, as much time as their father would let them. and walking through the family rooms, i saw someone i had not seen in a long time.

Mom L stood by the wall. i hesitated to approach until she indicated that i could. Thanking her for coming, i immediately asked where Lirette was. i really don't remember the details of the conversation, but Lirette had decided not to attend. after polite thank yous, i moved along.

this brought Lirette back to light again. i discussed the whole thing with Karen. she expressed interest but advised me to use caution. i started out looking around and found myspace and facebook accounts that had her name. i introduced myself as an old friend of her parents. we made contact regularly. but considering the past behavior of Mom L, i decided that it was not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. it was torture for me and she might start to think i was some weird perv or something. so i stopped sending messages and replied to anything that she sent as briefly as possible, if it required a reply. the traffic slowed and died out. i delivered it to the back in the closet of my mind until something would bring her out again.

then came the shocker. the one that gives you that adrenaline zap to the gut. i was reading her bulletin posts, as i had subscribed to them for convenience. and there was one that was her usual fare; boyfriend, skateboards, weekend activities, etc. then a line that said something to the effect that she was sad or upset because a relationship with someone she cared about had soured.

reading more, i looked for the bastard who had dared hurt her. she said his initials were "M - R - F". hmmm. m r f, eh? didn't ring any bells. looked it over a few times when it kicked me right in the ass. my real father... nah. couldn't be. but it was. it was true. she knew about me. i was speechless... elated... happy... relieved... but wait a minute. how did she find this out?

did you lose your faith in God, no?
does your conscience always get you down?
fall to pieces rough and tumble
does your conscience always get you down?

these days it's all in the mind
it's elemental
don't say you're up when you're down
it's elemental


i'll be back with the last installment of "leopards" very soon. my eyes and my mind can only write for as long as my ass can stand...

leopards - pt. 4 (get off your horse, get on this train)

"welcome to the real world"

i said "welcome to the real world"

are we rushing like the wind?

naked out and naked in

"welcome to the free world"

i said "welcome to the me world"

are we rushing like the wind?*

Lirette contemplates meaning...

so i left you at the events told of my sons after their return from Katrina exile. but i failed to mention my own story of the storm. short and sweet, i weathered the storm at my parents home in Covington, LA. they packed up the car and headed north with Brigitte, my brother, Matt's daughter. eventually, they ended up in Little Rock. Matt and I battened down the hatches on Magnolia and waited for her to strike.

we watched the weather on every station. everyone prayed that the monster would move east or west and spare us the destruction that was sure to come with a CAT 5 storm like this. my memories of the devastation that Camille wrought many years ago fueled speculation that New Orleans was in deep trouble. an old friend that lived in Manassas, VA, used to tell me that the "perfect storm" would dump the lake and the river together, right on top of the Crescent City. Katrina basically did something just as bad.

the morning of the strike came and we sat drinking coffee and watching the television with hope. unfortunately, there was none to be had, as she was barreling down on the southeast coast of Louisiana and throwing her worst at the Mississippi Gulf Coast. that's how big this bitch was.

the winds were rising by the minute, as we stood on the front porch and watched the squall lines come through. the eerie sound of tree branches cracking. no birds or wildlife were to be found, 'cept one brave little hummingbird, who hovered around the feeder on the back porch. he finally became so exhausted that he perched on the wire suspending the feeder and rode out the storm. ignoring Matt and I as we came in and out the back door, it was an amazing thing to see.

for the most part, the Covington home was the victim of only slight damage. there was more damage to the trees and utility lines than anything else. don't misunderstand me. you could not walk to the street gate without the aid of a chain saw. all done, it looked like a bomb had gone off...

as soon as the winds died down enough to venture out safely, we did what anyone else in the same situation would have done. we cranked up the generator. since we had wired in an "essential appliance" list to plug into the juice when we had lost it all. so that left only one thing. run a coax cable next door to the empty house and hook it in to the existing, aimed and unused satellite dish. then return to the living room and switch on DirecTV to see what's going on.

with the generator gassed up and generating, the refrigerator chuffed into life, and the television found it's groove when the DTV downloading screen and logo came on. we had come through the storm and were about to see the news. anticipating another close call for New Orleans, we grabbed snacks and drinks to survey the area. we hit WWL first. no signal on air. as it was with the remainder of the local stations. a trip up to the CNN and Fox News organizations showed us why the local stations were off the air. and it was enough to hit your disbelief switch and put you into shock.

the city was in various stages of complete flooding and devastation. the ninth ward was inundated with water that came from a breach in the navigation canal. the 17th street canal had broken through the levee near the Old Hammond highway bridge at the Orleans/Jefferson line. it was pouring millions of gallons of brackish water into Lakeview, destroying everything in its path. New Orleans East was the same thing. There wasn't a place that the overhead cameras could find that had not been touched by the fury of this storm.

there was no electricity and no phones. even the cell phones were down because the relay towers had their power eliminated with the same crap. some could text, but that was spotty. i remembered my house in Abita Springs. Wife B had not been in contact yet, but she eventually came up the walk to say that it was demolished by pine trees falling. when we eventually got out there, she was correct. it was pretty much messed up and would never see it's current layout again. it needed major repairs. the roof, interior ceilings and walls, the floors and carpet... all ruined. not to mention the furniture and personal belongings.

a tree had fallen and broken off at the half point, sending the top half on an almost perfect drop to the roofline where the main house structure met the studio/office. this neatly clipped the entire studio roof off and sent it down and back with only the large entertainment center to keep it from crashing to the floor. it also, tragically, acted as a funnel to send a torrent of rain water down the split and soaking the contents of the entertainment center and everything else in the entire office area.

my books and magazines; years of unreplaceable paintball magazines and classic books that i had collected over the years. DVD after DVD were found soaked with the inserts stuck to the disc and rendered unuseable. what little that could be salvaged was taken to my parents. it was more depression and stress that i ever thought would surface. thank God that Gunfighter survived with nary a scratch.

lawyer, FEMA, IHOP and relief check were as repeated as Red Cross Master Card. days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. relationships ended and lives changed for the better or the worse. Entrenched at my parents home, it was comfortable and secure. But at almost fifty years old, i needed to have an air of independence. i needed... oh, shit. who am i kidding? i was snug as a bug in my own room at Magnolia and just happy to be there.

years of paintball in a soaked down mess on the floor...

IT'S COMING! I SWEAR IT IS!

*Tears for Fears - Elemental

there's no such thing as a free ride

just a note for anyone who may be wondering... for some reason, this free blog site, Blogger.com, belched and is now fighting me on my formatting. you'll notice that it eliminated all my line breaks and paragraphs throughout every post except for one. since their one weak point is help for this kind of stuff, please bear with me while i go back and correct them all. damn! and i type in all lower case purposely for a reason that i am not stating...

ALL FIXED!

the time(s) of the season... REDUX

i would be remiss if I failed to point out that the New Orleans Times-Picayune ran a front page story on the rise in deaths attributed to Heroin in the last few months. since Pierce was killed, more deaths have occurred. a total of seven. what a waste of life. young people better open their eyes and see that this shit is nothing to fool with. heroin has always been a drug for bums and imbeciles. killing yourself is not en vogue, dumbasses.

parents better open their eyes wide and look at what their kid is up to. seeing your child in a coffin is not the way to open them, either. i have stepped forward on multiple occasions and said how I feel... said what I felt needed to be said for the sake of these kids! if you keep hiding behind the cop-out of being your childs friend instead of his or her parent and educator you are courting a disaster that could haunt you all of your life.

"Heroin creates a circle of death" link will take you to the article.... then we can all play the "mystery girl" guessing game. Right. I've been accused of many things as a result of coming forward on this feature. I've been accused of making myself look stupid or bad; and making Pierce look like some raving street addict. For the record, I felt like someone had to step forward and say something in defense of him.

and while I'm at it, here the link to a "Sunday Morning with Dennis Woltering" show on WWL-TV Channel 4 in New Orleans that covered Pierce, Maddy Prevost and another young man having problems with heroin.

spend some time browsing MySpace and Facebook. look at the photos on the profiles and read the comments; look at the graphics and take note of how many of these young people are in posession of alcohol or drugs. blatantly smoking what appears to be marijuana and drinking.

teenage alcohol use is not a laughing matter. how many times have you heard or read that? but just keep on reading and watching the newspapers, magazines and television news stories. time after time, a child is killed as a direct result of alcohol use. automobile accidents; alcohol poisoning; they all add up to aggravated ignorance. and the parent who stands there and allows the kids to drink is as guilty as sin when something tragic happens. "let's have a party at which little Miller can invite all his friends. If we have it here at home, then we can allow them to booze it up under our supervision". that makes it all ok. believe that shit and you have your head stuck firmly up an alligator's ass!

once you give them the booze, it begins the cycle of adult life. but this cycle of life has two roads. the road they choose to take is up to them. one road gives them confidence without alcohol and the ability to interact with others and take life's punches with the occasional cocktail; this individual is fortunate, indeed. the other one takes his or her first taste of alcohol and is immediately lifted to an entirely different plane of existence. they can interact socially without feeling awkward or stupid. they solve problems that their mentors could only talk about. they drive with the aplomb of Mario Andretti; that is until the get their first DUI or clip an oak tree on St. Charles Avenue doing sixty plus. but that only slows them down until next time.

Nancy Grace attacks the scum of the world on a nightly basis. child molesters, pornographers, murderers and kidnappers. her verve for the chase is as exciting as her genuine glee at one of the perverts being apprehended. WHY, Ms. Grace have you not done any features on this practice that take so many lives. what will you do when your precious twins get old enough to hoist one with the boys? Will you place them in a parentally monitored party environment where you can watch them drink before they reach twenty-one? will you use your huge expanse of an audience to investigate this problem and expose it as the crime it is? will you ever see these words and do you even care? i can reflect on this... if you have teenage children, pray that they love and respect you enough to delay their adventure into alcohol use. avoid the temptation to please them and be socially accepted by hosting any affair that includes underage drinking. death, from anything, is final should it visit your family and he is indiscrimanate over who he takes. losing a child as a result of alcohol or drugs is a numbing existence that never leaves you. keep yor head in the sand if you just don't care.

if you do care, you had better open your eyes before it breaks your heart...

This post originally appeared in April. It was one of the more controversial and was taken down at anonymous request. It has now been edited and returned to the Blog...

leopards - pt. 3 (if i'm lion i'm dyin'...)

so, another portion of my life begins as another one closes the door. or should i say slams? according to certain individuals, we can all be friends and pals again. aw, shit. i don't want to go out on another tangent. forget that. i have to go there. it contributes.

post Katrina, i lived at my parents home. Johnny came back from exile in Florida with his mother to stay with us and work locally. the community began to return to SOME sense of normalcy. one of those things was the re-opening of the local IHOP. this is where i met Karen. Karen has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. i'll talk more of her later in a separate post.

Pierce eventually returned from Florida, too. in typical Pierce fashion, he changed his plans and cost me almost $200 in air fare from non-refundable tickets that I gladly gave up. i didn't care. i just wanted to see him. when he did get home, things were like they never had changed... non-storm wise, that is. Katrina had done her damage to many, many lives; the lion's share of those lives would never return to the way they were before the storm of the century.

The boys' mother's home in the Lakeview area of New Orleans had been devastated by the brackish water surge. They were only a few miles away from the breach in the 17th Street Canal levee that sent millions of gallons of water from Lake Pontchartrain across one of the most beautiful sections of the city. what remained for them was only what they managed to take with them in their escape to Florida. years and years of countless memories were ruined by the encroachment of the filthy, disease ridden water.

Johnny worked with my brother, Matt, in the area, cleaning up and repairing damaged homes. he was able to get to the house and view the destruction. taking a camera with him on most days, he took lots of photos of the damage; both of his house and of the entire area. nothing can prepare you for the terrible destruction and heartbreak that followed Katrina.

i browsed through the photos of his home and yard and was moved to tears, as i saw the memories that had been collected over the years. i saw furniture that i had assembled and painted many years earlier with my own hands, twisted and warped in a pile of debris. mold and a telltale waterline inside the rental house displayed the extent of the water's smoldering fury.

i felt an intense deal of sorrow for their entire family. these were the things that the boys grew up with. these items were their life and their world. the landlord had been so kind as to shovel everything outside into a big pile where it remained vulnerable to further attacks of weather and those sneaky enough to get into the area and loot without being caught. no one should have to endure the hardships and emotional turmoil wrought by a natural disaster such as a hurricane.

West End Boulevard "Neutral Ground" from Veterans Blvd to the Lake looked as this did.

in the back of my mind were the friends and people I knew that lived in the area. my grandmother lived in two separate homes on Canal Boulevard; one between I-10 & Harrison and one at the corner of Louque and Canal near Navarre and Homedale. Wife A and I had lived, pre-wedding, on Catina Street for a while and Mom L had purchased a home almost across the street from there. "little" Lirette came to mind again, as I had not been in contact with Mom L. i silently thought to myself the hope that they came through it ok. i still could not picture her as old as Pierce. in my memory, she was still the kindergartner that I remembered from the grocery.

then, unfortunately, I was forced to turn to bigger fish...

MORE IN FOUR!

leopards - pt. 2 (hyena meat is tough, man!)

gosh-a-mighty! is intermission over THIS soon? We might need another...
all I can say is that I'm ready to place the rest of the information that I have on this heyah blog log. now looking at these two pictures of Pierce and Rette, one would find it exteremely difficult to tell which "twin" was which. i was in constant turmoil about which observant individual would blow the whistle with the loud exclamation,

"My Lord! These two children look exactly alike!" the sweating I did. the subdued anger felt because I was being shut out.

after the grocery incident, as I was saying, life took a very strange turn. i was diagnosed with the disorder after a horrible stay in a South Shore psychiatric joint. wife B and I were together at that time and trying to get set up. while I was in the joint, she felt the need to play around on me with someone else. discovered, she asked to be forgiven and have another chance. I gave it to her on the condition we move to the North Shore so I could be closer to my parents.

i was such a case that I could no longer work. we moved to Mandeville and secured an apartment in the world renowned Woodlands Apartments. this began an adventure that would last until I finally left the relationship in February of 2005. it was a roller coaster ride of emotions, high & low. it was an excercise in self control. it was definitely love-hate at times. had it been unencumbered by her "youngest juvenille deliquent in-training for full fledged criminal", it may have had a chance. but he had sufficiently poisoned the mind of his mater, that she literally believed anything he told her. too bad he didn't tell her how much i loved her...

walking through a black neighborhood and throwing a tire through the windshield of an "abandoned" car cost me a few hundred dollars. no remorse - strike one.
expelled from school for carrying marijuana in his front pants pocket during a dog led locker search. no remorse - strike two.

after Katrina, i let her use my car to get to the shelter with the request that she not return to the damaged house. she ignored me, brought the car to the house, when finally reaching her, she told me that the car had run out of gasoline on Hillcrest Boulevard and that they had left it there parked and locked. unfortunately, some evildoer had stolen it. after a week of running around like an imbecile trying to track down this automobile. finally, on the following Friday, a letter came from a local towing service. we raced over to get it from bondage to find that it had been flipped on the roof and was a total loss. i was in total depression.

but we noticed something funny. there were three keys for the car. the car was supposed to have been locked when left and stolen. i was worried about the spare key I kept in the glove compartment. when I checked keys, I had mine; hers was unremovable in the ignition switch; and the third one was... yep, you guessed it. the third one was in the glove box. which indicated that either she, or one of her kids, had flipped the car. She lied to me to protect her kid.

a local deputy met me at the scene on Hillcrest and pointed out exactly what happened. the kid lost control of the car while driving down Hillcrest and went off the right side of the road. as he did that, the right front wheel went up the guy wire for a utility pole. they went far enough up it to eventually flip the car. they ran like thieves and left my car there to be vandalized and looted. my stereo and CD's were all gone and they had taken the winter clothes that I had stored in the trunk. thanks from the bottom of my heart you little criminal asshole. the clincher came when I contacted her and told her that I knew she'd lied and asked her why. she told me that he was "mad" at me for leaving so we were "even". no remorse - strike three - they're all OUT!

and so began my life anew. another divorce loomed and another portion of my life concluded. i was back at home with my parents and damn happy to be there!

(note: i must say her oldest son is ok in my book. he's worked at a local Mickey D's for almost four years as a grunt. to do that take guts... not much brains, but guts. he knows i'm kidding and that i think it's a damn good deal!)

INTERMISSION II

leopards don't change their spots - pt. 1

Let me introduce you to someone. This is Lirette. She is my daughter. Almost twenty years ago, an indiscretion brought her to life. Details are not required. Suffice to say that Lirette was born approximately nine months later. Although I had strong suspicions as to just who her father was, I was rebuffed by her mother and assured that she was not a result of our indescretion.

As time went by, I was taking part in raising my two sons, John and Pierce. Pierce and Lirette were one month apart in age. Since we were all friends, there were many instances where the two children were close to each other. I didn't have to look hard to see the close resemblence between them. Although I asked her mother, (Mom L) many times if she was sure that I was not Lirette's father, the answer was always the same.

During the course of time, the boys' mother, (let's say Wife A), and I divorced. It was a bloody and horrific process that left indelible stains on the lives of us all. To this day, she hates and despises me for a myriad of real and perceived wrongs done during the divorce process and the years since. I am convinced there is no forgiveness now, or ever, in her heart for me.

My second marriage, (Wife B), made it even worse. I was married to someone who lived on the border of stability. She was volitile in everything she did and was prone to displays of temper and emotion that would eventually cause friends and family to shy away from our company. Although I did care greatly for her, I was unable to see a way out for myself. I had made a promise to myself that this union just could not fail. You see, I considered myself a failure for being unable to continue in my first marriage for reasons I won't address here, as that is an entirely different story.

To sum it up at this point, Wife A despised Wife B; Not an unusual circustance in nasty divorces. Wife A thought Wife B was the sole reason for the divorce. Unfortunately, she was wrong. Wife B only gave me the courage to take the steps needed to remove myself from the situation. The horrible thing about it all was that the boys had to suffer through it all. The biggest regret that I have in my entire life is that my boys had to live that situation. I am convinced that the purgatory that is my life at present is a result of my inability to place myself in the eyes of my sons and see what they went through. But that belongs to me...

We now return to Lirette. Wife A had been friends with Mom L since before we were married. Mom L had been friends with me before Wife A was in the picture at all. After the initial separation, Mom L saw me with, who was to become, Wife B and decided that I was a rat bastard and stopped talking to me. After that point, there was no more contact with Mom L, save a chance meeting in the grocery store where I appealed to her for reconciliation. We had been friends for a very long time and I did miss her counsel and company. Lirette was with her and I found myself hard pressed to conceal my elation at seeing her and how much she resembled Pierce. We parted with smiles and I thought that we could be friends again.

The size of the fool that I had become was demonstrated upon receipt of a phone call from Wife A. She informed me that she had spoken to Mom L and was to inform me, basically, that it would be a cold day in Hell before we would ever be friends again, and laughed at me for my lame attempt. Well, kick me in the balls, Sister...


Back in the world again, what we'll call a "disorder" had begun to take over my personality. The stress of the divorce; he stress of the new fiance and wife; the stress of life placed me in a facility that cared for those individuals who did not have the tools to meet the world every day.

INTERMISSION