An Exercise in Thankfulness
Allow me a moment, please, to thank all the people who had a hand in making me who I am. I'm sure I'll forget a few, indeed many, but this is simply an exercise in thankfulness and the ones I do forget will surely understand and know that I thank them as well. So, I would like to say thank-you to the following people, be they real or fictitious...
God. Mom and Dad. Grandma, Grandpa and the long line of lives that preceded them. Anna, Danielle, Uncle’s Bob, Steve, Jim, Clare. Aunt’s Simone, Martha, Gloria, Thao and Heidi's Mother. Cousins Heidi, Little Jimmy, Charlie. Teresa Troutman, Leo O'Brian, Frank Alter, Dennis Banka, Stephanie's Dean and Breeden, Gloria and both Paul's Dean. Mike "Where's-my-moon" Whats-is-name. The very blonde Debbie Schoensiegle who wrote on paper, "YKPGFYA," whose mother had me detained by M.P.'s for daring to like her daughter, the self-same daughter who encouraged all kinds of naughty. To Troop 88 and Mr. Peoples. Scott and Eric Mersnick, and survival campouts. Laura Bearnard and Apple perfume, Stacy, and Bruce Rhodes, broke arm and all. Nancy Rigdon and her brother John. Marc Marley and Lori Sutherland, the girl I was afraid to kiss. Rodney Shueman. Eddie, Kenneth, Kevin and Sharon Trainor. Vince Kasprowicz and his whirling dervish. Sweet Emily. To the woman who held me as I cried at my fathers funeral; she who was once my step-sister. Mr. Lovrikovic for teaching me that hard lesson called "Complacency." David and Peaches Skinner, for their faithfulness to God, and Northside Baptist Church, the only church I felt at home in. Delilah Dean. Les and Rebecca Grice. Mike Salow, Clint Menacof, and Jim Stoller who shared a jail cell with me on my twenty-ninth birthday and owns the first painting I sold in exile. Bradford Woods who last time I heard was somewhere in Texas enlightening the masses. Peter Paulie, one-time editor of Colorado Springs only daily newspaper, who was nothing but an encouragement to me. R.D. Golden for teaching me how not to treat a woman. James Henry Bell for teaching me how not to treat a friend. Iota Gamma for showing me what brotherhood is not. Carol Pizza for teaching me forgiveness, and Cristal Conley for teaching me endurance and steadfastness. James Pigneri, Sylvia Harrison. Spinnaker's Restaurant for teaching me how not to treat employees. Edward Eugene "Hoss" Lewis for showing me that no man is worthy of worship, and David Rabe who has shown me that all men are at times to be pitied. To Spain for my first lesson in prejudice, and to George Washington Carver High School for my second. To Kimberly Steele who liked me perhaps as much as I liked her. Mr. Jacksons Homeroom class who did NOT paint the mural of the Beatles... I did! 1st and 10th grade art contests. Mr. Early and any girl named Kelli. To band class and the trumpet my mother bought for me and my love for music. Belinda Kelly for teaching me the true meaning of fidelity and the phrase "sex-as-a-weapon." Everet Youngberg the ever-smiling. Taco, Hercules, Rufus and Dudley, and Pepe, loyal companions all. To Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E. Howard, and J.R.R. Tolkien. Merry and Pippen and good ole' Sam Gamgee. Charlotte Norris who slapped me for kissing her, only to later kiss me goodbye. To Paula Kirker, because she liked Klaatu. Stephen Hawking, Albert Einstein, and Marilyn Monroe. Diana Spencer and Norma Jean. Kansas. Both the calm and stormy seas of winter I once piloted a steady course upon. When Worlds Collide. The Beatles. Enya and Loreena McKennitt. Sinead's burning of Troy. Homers burning of Troy. Ullyses and Penelope. The sinking of Atlantis and the land that is now the Mediterranian Sea. Pangea and Hyperboria. Ming the Mercilous, Flash and Dale Arden. Ornella Muti's "Aura." The Alan Parsons Project and the Turn of a Friendly Card. Ron Ely's "Tarzan." Author Gene Wolfe. Ursula K. LeGuin's "Lathe of Heaven." Ray Bradbury and his "Martian Cronicles," especially his "The Million Year Picnic." Hermann Hesse and Sidharrtha. Immanuel Velikovsky. William Golding's "Lord of the Flies." "I Am The Cheese." "Farenheit 451." Phillip K. Dick's, "Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?" "Logan's Run" (The Book). "The Stand." "The Dark Tower." Robert Jordan's, "The Wheel Of Time." Robert Roy McGregar and William Wallace. The highlands of Scotland and anything with bagpipes. To "The Sun in the Stream;" that tune that echoed across the mountain top at my fathers funeral. "Cursum Perficio." Cecil B. Demille's Ten Commandments, and to Ben Hur. Sensei Richard Lordings Shorin-Ryu. To Goju-Ryu and Sanchin. Hiroaki Samura and the Blade of the Immortal. Michael J. Linsner. Darrian Ashoka and Dawn. Gary Numan and the B-52's. The Moody Blues. Yes. A Farewell to Kings and Moving Pictures. Clannad, Mary Black, Connie Dover and especially Luka Bloom. Dan Fogelberg. Stevie Nicks and Linsey Buckingham. Tears for Fears, Queen and Dixie Chicks. For finding Shawn Colvin before everyone else did. Charleton Heston in Planet of the Apes. Jaws. Jean-Luc Picard, Worf, and Data. Bram Stoker and the scariest vampire story ever. Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo and Jules Verne. Back to the Future one, two and three. Robert Adams "Return of the Horseclans" and Milo Morai. Richard Adams "Watership Down," especially Hazel, Fiver, Strawberry, Hyzenthlay, and my very own "Hrududu" parked out front, and the concept of Tharn and all it implies. Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Steven Segal, all of whom are the real deal. U2 and Sting's "Fields of Gold" as well as his "Dream of the Blue Turtle." Mrs. Bell who treated me as though I were one of her own. Dan Robbins. Joby Roberts, and one night at the spa. Mr. "One toke over the line" Cliff Myers... And his sister. Lee Pizza. Suzie Durko for sharing long walks with me. Mike Gailfoil. Debra Lively. Robby Heisner. Steve Hagan. The Entire Kasprowicz Clan and that Hallowed place known to one and all as the "Oaks." David Everett. Bill Norris and his lovely bride. Catherine "Cat" Vaughan, Kim Dosier, Wendy Morris, Krishelle, Desa Dance, Dot Brown, Lisa Treadwell, and Sherif Dawson. Dawn Floyd. Brandi Holton. To Hannah and her Needle Corriandor, and Arwen. The Stoning Of Charity and the return of inspiration after three years. Sun and Flower. "The Gardens of Loveplay" and "Tales from the Amber Book". Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern for a look at both sides of the fence. To Solitude, for teaching me how to think for myself and showing me the importance of doing so. To the idea that the glass is neither half full nor half empty, but "Fully Half Empty." To Mary Angel, who was my first... And best.
And the list could go on and on. There are so many people and things that have contributed to who I have become, some good, some bad. Sure, I'd like to be able to go back to when I was 17, with all I know now and do it differently; who wouldn't? But then I wouldn't be who I am today... Or would I?
Well, that's a question best considered another time.
God. Mom and Dad. Grandma, Grandpa and the long line of lives that preceded them. Anna, Danielle, Uncle’s Bob, Steve, Jim, Clare. Aunt’s Simone, Martha, Gloria, Thao and Heidi's Mother. Cousins Heidi, Little Jimmy, Charlie. Teresa Troutman, Leo O'Brian, Frank Alter, Dennis Banka, Stephanie's Dean and Breeden, Gloria and both Paul's Dean. Mike "Where's-my-moon" Whats-is-name. The very blonde Debbie Schoensiegle who wrote on paper, "YKPGFYA," whose mother had me detained by M.P.'s for daring to like her daughter, the self-same daughter who encouraged all kinds of naughty. To Troop 88 and Mr. Peoples. Scott and Eric Mersnick, and survival campouts. Laura Bearnard and Apple perfume, Stacy, and Bruce Rhodes, broke arm and all. Nancy Rigdon and her brother John. Marc Marley and Lori Sutherland, the girl I was afraid to kiss. Rodney Shueman. Eddie, Kenneth, Kevin and Sharon Trainor. Vince Kasprowicz and his whirling dervish. Sweet Emily. To the woman who held me as I cried at my fathers funeral; she who was once my step-sister. Mr. Lovrikovic for teaching me that hard lesson called "Complacency." David and Peaches Skinner, for their faithfulness to God, and Northside Baptist Church, the only church I felt at home in. Delilah Dean. Les and Rebecca Grice. Mike Salow, Clint Menacof, and Jim Stoller who shared a jail cell with me on my twenty-ninth birthday and owns the first painting I sold in exile. Bradford Woods who last time I heard was somewhere in Texas enlightening the masses. Peter Paulie, one-time editor of Colorado Springs only daily newspaper, who was nothing but an encouragement to me. R.D. Golden for teaching me how not to treat a woman. James Henry Bell for teaching me how not to treat a friend. Iota Gamma for showing me what brotherhood is not. Carol Pizza for teaching me forgiveness, and Cristal Conley for teaching me endurance and steadfastness. James Pigneri, Sylvia Harrison. Spinnaker's Restaurant for teaching me how not to treat employees. Edward Eugene "Hoss" Lewis for showing me that no man is worthy of worship, and David Rabe who has shown me that all men are at times to be pitied. To Spain for my first lesson in prejudice, and to George Washington Carver High School for my second. To Kimberly Steele who liked me perhaps as much as I liked her. Mr. Jacksons Homeroom class who did NOT paint the mural of the Beatles... I did! 1st and 10th grade art contests. Mr. Early and any girl named Kelli. To band class and the trumpet my mother bought for me and my love for music. Belinda Kelly for teaching me the true meaning of fidelity and the phrase "sex-as-a-weapon." Everet Youngberg the ever-smiling. Taco, Hercules, Rufus and Dudley, and Pepe, loyal companions all. To Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E. Howard, and J.R.R. Tolkien. Merry and Pippen and good ole' Sam Gamgee. Charlotte Norris who slapped me for kissing her, only to later kiss me goodbye. To Paula Kirker, because she liked Klaatu. Stephen Hawking, Albert Einstein, and Marilyn Monroe. Diana Spencer and Norma Jean. Kansas. Both the calm and stormy seas of winter I once piloted a steady course upon. When Worlds Collide. The Beatles. Enya and Loreena McKennitt. Sinead's burning of Troy. Homers burning of Troy. Ullyses and Penelope. The sinking of Atlantis and the land that is now the Mediterranian Sea. Pangea and Hyperboria. Ming the Mercilous, Flash and Dale Arden. Ornella Muti's "Aura." The Alan Parsons Project and the Turn of a Friendly Card. Ron Ely's "Tarzan." Author Gene Wolfe. Ursula K. LeGuin's "Lathe of Heaven." Ray Bradbury and his "Martian Cronicles," especially his "The Million Year Picnic." Hermann Hesse and Sidharrtha. Immanuel Velikovsky. William Golding's "Lord of the Flies." "I Am The Cheese." "Farenheit 451." Phillip K. Dick's, "Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?" "Logan's Run" (The Book). "The Stand." "The Dark Tower." Robert Jordan's, "The Wheel Of Time." Robert Roy McGregar and William Wallace. The highlands of Scotland and anything with bagpipes. To "The Sun in the Stream;" that tune that echoed across the mountain top at my fathers funeral. "Cursum Perficio." Cecil B. Demille's Ten Commandments, and to Ben Hur. Sensei Richard Lordings Shorin-Ryu. To Goju-Ryu and Sanchin. Hiroaki Samura and the Blade of the Immortal. Michael J. Linsner. Darrian Ashoka and Dawn. Gary Numan and the B-52's. The Moody Blues. Yes. A Farewell to Kings and Moving Pictures. Clannad, Mary Black, Connie Dover and especially Luka Bloom. Dan Fogelberg. Stevie Nicks and Linsey Buckingham. Tears for Fears, Queen and Dixie Chicks. For finding Shawn Colvin before everyone else did. Charleton Heston in Planet of the Apes. Jaws. Jean-Luc Picard, Worf, and Data. Bram Stoker and the scariest vampire story ever. Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo and Jules Verne. Back to the Future one, two and three. Robert Adams "Return of the Horseclans" and Milo Morai. Richard Adams "Watership Down," especially Hazel, Fiver, Strawberry, Hyzenthlay, and my very own "Hrududu" parked out front, and the concept of Tharn and all it implies. Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Steven Segal, all of whom are the real deal. U2 and Sting's "Fields of Gold" as well as his "Dream of the Blue Turtle." Mrs. Bell who treated me as though I were one of her own. Dan Robbins. Joby Roberts, and one night at the spa. Mr. "One toke over the line" Cliff Myers... And his sister. Lee Pizza. Suzie Durko for sharing long walks with me. Mike Gailfoil. Debra Lively. Robby Heisner. Steve Hagan. The Entire Kasprowicz Clan and that Hallowed place known to one and all as the "Oaks." David Everett. Bill Norris and his lovely bride. Catherine "Cat" Vaughan, Kim Dosier, Wendy Morris, Krishelle, Desa Dance, Dot Brown, Lisa Treadwell, and Sherif Dawson. Dawn Floyd. Brandi Holton. To Hannah and her Needle Corriandor, and Arwen. The Stoning Of Charity and the return of inspiration after three years. Sun and Flower. "The Gardens of Loveplay" and "Tales from the Amber Book". Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern for a look at both sides of the fence. To Solitude, for teaching me how to think for myself and showing me the importance of doing so. To the idea that the glass is neither half full nor half empty, but "Fully Half Empty." To Mary Angel, who was my first... And best.
And the list could go on and on. There are so many people and things that have contributed to who I have become, some good, some bad. Sure, I'd like to be able to go back to when I was 17, with all I know now and do it differently; who wouldn't? But then I wouldn't be who I am today... Or would I?
Well, that's a question best considered another time.
from the mind of... Eric | 3:26 PM
1 Comments:
Steven Segal may not actually be the real deal.
I have the same reading list. Add Dostoyevski's Brothers Karamozov, and Henrich Boll's Billiards at Half Past Nine.
J
J
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