THE PEOPLE’S CHASE, ERR, CHOICE I

Part one.

OK my readers. I’ve taken your ideas and concepts and Gazoo gave me an idea so I just went with it. Like it or hate it, I think I included most everything and then some. A slight, no make it, a huge departure from the norm. Without further adieu…


Sitting on a plane, heading for the ‘Big D.’
The fact that I’m even here is lucky for me.
That friggin alarm clock, 10 times I hit snooze.
Awoke from this dream, eek, I was covered in tattoos!

“Balls” written on my forehead, I just had to laugh.
Remind you of something? Garden State and Zach Braff?
And now I’m late, it’s 5:41.
My flight leaves at 6:40, miss it and I’m done.

In the car I flew in my Mercedes chariot.
Doin’ 85, not worried about the speed limit.
Boarded the plane at 6:07.
How I made it in 27 minutes? Divine intervention from the big guy in heaven.

So I board the plane and grab my seat.
Sit next to a pretty girl? Nah, just the typical deadbeat.
Just my usual luck. Jeez is *this* flight gonna be long.
His iPod is blarin’ Cheech Marin and friggin Tommy Chong.

What’s up with those lyrics? “Momma tryin to tell me how to live.
But I don’t listen cuz my head’s like a sieve.”
Shit, deadbeat’s talking to me. I say, “Hey dude I’m tryin’ to write!”
Get your nasty brylcream head outta my sight!”

Yada, yada, yada. On and on he talks about his drugs.
They make him abstract, creative, help him forget about his hair plugs.
“Dude, don’t talk to me on planes, or for that matter any place.
You’re invading my privacy. My own little space.”


“Stop tellin’ me your dirty stories.” What a womanizer!
What this guy needs is a mouthful of hand sanitizer.
Ugh. There goes the flight attendant. Their shtick is so well-known.
“The cabin door’s closed. Turn off your cell phones.”

Here comes the meal. What an utter joke.
A mini bag of pretzels and a cup o’ Diet Coke.
I offer my snack to Mr. Deadbeat next door.
Hoping he’d appreciate it and bug me no more.

“Hey man, it’s cool. Want some drugs of mine?”
I just got a new stash. Canadian online.”
“Uh, no thanks deadbeat.” I said with a forced smile.
“How ‘bout some Altoids, your breath’s so friggin vile.”

Good! At long last he’s fallen asleep.
I must write down this thought I had about marshmallow peeps.
But first a trip back to memory lane.
Must write about your requests or you’ll most certainly complain.

Born in ’62 in Atlanta, G-A.
Was there for six months and then moved away.
Miami’s the city where I spent my youth,
Where I got educated, learned to play ball, where I lost my first tooth.

Childhood was a bit tough, a bit rough, and sad.
I was only three when mom divorced dad.
A family needs a father, this I confess.
My sisters and I argued and teased, what a mess!

I studied hard, was an A-student in school.
Mom was strict. ‘No Bs’ was her rule.
Don’t get me wrong, she did her best.
But three divorces and her travel made for much unrest.

But through it all, I persevered.
College was next and it was freedom I revered.
My upbringing built my character though I didn’t know it then.
I look at life now, and where I’ve been.

University of Florida, blood, sweat, and tears.
It took me awhile, but I graduated in five years.
It was there I made the biggest mistake of my life.
No, I didn’t get a girl pregnant and make her my wife.

Rather, I switched my major in my Senior year
From writing to numbers. No career, I feared.
I went for practical over something I loved.
Writing’s not a career, if push came to shove.

Misguided thinking. I regret to this day.
Have I enjoyed my accounting career? No fuckin’ way.
But back to college for a moment, if I may.
I met my first girlfriend and fell in love right away.

TO BE CONTINUED…