Zee Arc Tune’z
Brand New View... Buckle Inn for the Ride!
I entered first grade, with my teacher Mrs. Wade. She was the wife of some famous football player. We had a very large classroom of 30 children, and being so large of a group; one only got to know the kids nearest one’s own desk. I only have three memories from this time.
The first was; I became a ladies man. Everyday I offered to walk a one of my sweetheart’s home. It became quite a grueling ritual, often going; way out of my way to bring my young maiden friends home safely to their doorsteps. That was the extent of my tender hearted intentions, until one day I placed myself in hot water with 3 young ladies by forgetting that in the morning I offered my services to one, and that afternoon to another. I then also, came to find that the previous day I had promised another, which had completely slipped my mind.
The final bell rang and I suddenly found three young ladies, tapping their foot demanding which I would choose to walk home. I was in a totally perplexing predicament for a first grader and not skilled in the art of lying or juggling. I offered to walk each one home, but that didn’t suffice as they demanded I choose only one. I gave the ultimatum all or nothing. They all turned their backs upon me and walked out of my life. I was left totally lonely with some sort of curse that has haunted me to this day.
However my fancy had turned to an older woman who was Mrs. Wade’s intern. She was this young lady studying in becoming a teacher. I can’t remember her name all I can remember is that she was this totally beautiful young woman who wore mini skirts at which were always at my eye level. She looked very much like Enya, on one of her first CD’s of a black and white picture. Short Bobbie hair that framed the very soft features of her face, and eye’s that she didn’t know; had somehow penetrated my soul. She became my master and I her little puppy dog. I tried to shower her with my charm and affection, but somehow she was able to keep me contained with such a professional manner that I often would go home frustrated until I finally just let her be. I stopped approaching her and rarely would I see her from across the room unless she was collecting papers. I did have one final encounter with her when a tornado watch and warning forced us to evacuate to the safer sanctuary of the school.
The day started off completely normal, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping and we did all our normal school activities. We often had shelter drills through out the year and it was stressed that the last person to leave the room was to secure the door and get quickly back in line or head to the appointed room of retreat. We all were, in the middle of some activity when the siren alarm to evacuate rang loudly. Mrs. Wade made a calm announcement, and we all fell in line. We marched out of the room into a rain storm that came upon us out of nowhere. We all were shocked that the weather had changed and was becoming more violent as we filed out of the room. I stepped into the element of wind rain and hail pounding down against the brick wall and concrete sidewalk. The wind was blowing down sideways and the covered sheltered walkway was of no protection. The kids began to run single file to the refuge room. I followed and soon began to run as well when all of sudden when I reached the corner, I remembered that I was the last to leave the room. I turned and began to head back. I was in the midst of hail bombing the metal roof covering like tiny bullets.
The wind was howling like a demon, and the sky literally black; turning the day into night. I hadn’t gone that far in this storm was so blinding to traverse, however I did reach the metal door and found it pinned to the wall; wide open.
I attempted to close the door, but I wasn’t strong enough to bring it even halfway; before it would just slam wide open against the wall, while the storm continued to fill, the room with ice from the hail that mercilessly pelted; viciously down against everything in sight. Then in the distance haze, I saw my beautiful intern braving her way towards me and the door, like the captain’s first mate on the deck of a sea tossed schooner.
We both were soaked to the skin and even in the midst of the wash, my eyes wandered to her wet dress drenched and clinging tightly to her body exposing every curve she had to offer. In spite of my bug eyed kinder erotic heart throbbing experience, she managed to call my attention to the door; where together we both struggled and fought the wind to close the metal mass.
She had to push her whole body against me and the door and I experienced the strength and the softness of her body pressing against my back and head as we both grunted in exhaustion to close the heavy steel door trapped by the wind. When the door finally locked and latched in place I stood leaning head against the door completely out of breath, and my heart pounding out of my chest. She then just grabbed my hand and pulled me almost off my feet, dragging me slightly, as I lost my footing as she pulled a full Xena sprint to the appointed safe room.
It felt like eternity, until I was then in the arms of Mrs. Wade; waiting with towels for both of us. We dried off and I tried to apologize for my inept memory of the drill requirements, when the Intern placed her hand on my head and gave me this loving look that I often had so longed for and said…
“It’s ok Michael, you’re just a boy.” So that put it all in perspective for me, and we never spoke or made eye contact again.
The final memory from first grade is somewhat regretful because I was distrustful towards one of my treasured creations.
We all were given a lump of clay to mold into something. I magically went to work and to my own amazement out of the clay appeared this majestic Rhinoceros. It was the first moment in my life where a piece of art work just unfolded. I mean this piece of art had become a flawless creation; with armored plates and scaled dimples. I couldn’t go wrong; for I was in an artistic zone and even so, felt humbled by the experience of creating my first masterpiece. I gloated though and felt much pride from it as I paraded about with my chest puffed out. I didn’t get any comments from anybody, which I thought was strange for it was so beautiful. Anyhow, Mrs. Wade did see; something in it and entered it into the school exhibition contest.
I waited day in and day out to hear of its destination, to eventually find, that it received an honorable mention and was in the main hall exhibition case.
So I went to visit it only to see it was pushed to the back of the case barely visible amongst all the other honorable mentions. But the thing that really got to me was to see 1st through 3rd place on the top shelf. Each was brightly lit by small spotlights, and shimmering ribbons dangling proudly from them. The problem that left me wondering in shame and anger, and ego was that the winners just didn’t compare to my creation.
I couldn’t comprehend this one bit, and found it completely intolerable.
I visited the case each day for a week, just to double check if my eyes and ego were deceiving me. I thought that maybe I was seeing something more in my work, than that of the other children.
One day the Rhino was released, back to me and Mrs. Wade asked what I would be doing with it? I said I had planned on giving it to my Dad for Fathers day. However on the way home I walked with one of my boyhood buddy’s and got this urge of disgust and childish envy. And then, in front of my friend, I smashed the sculpture into smithereens upon the asphalt road.
My friend looked at me and gasped in bewilderment; stating why in the world would I do such a horrific thing to my own creation? He then reminded me that it was my Fathers day gift. I just shook my head and said... “I don’t really know.”
I do regret that impulsive reaction, because as I grew older I really couldn’t look back and see if it was all my own pride that had thought the rhino was so great. And then also, the aspect that has secretly haunted me is that perhaps, I never really molded it myself; but was guided by some sort of Spirit that just gifted me for the moment and it was never really mine to claim.
That Awesome Spirit has come over me often with inspiration, and enchanted me into other creations that I just can’t take credit for.
I admit some songs I’ve written have come to me out of the blue, completely written upon the ether of my mind; from beginning to end- in rather brief moments in time for me to capture. My friend T Hoyt has also experienced such gifted moments of unexplainable humble acceptance in which one looks back upon a creation and say.
“I don’t know where this came from or how this has come out of me; be here it is and I certainly am impressed, with the meaning of humility.”
One day I came home and my Father had our possessions in boxes and I knew our stint in
I asked what was happening and he turned and said we we’re being stationed to
My Dad looked up at me with this serious look and his eyes turned blood shot like Christopher Lee from a vampire movie.( My father had that ability also and was often dramatic, just like my mother in presenting things.) He paused with his slightly tearing and bloodshot eyes and said… “I know!”
I would fall for this every time being the gullible person that I was; and fear filled my heart with adrenaline. He then went into all these evil things that could happen to us while in
Later that evening my Mother showed up to inquire what the issue was that seemed to be bothering me. I confessed that I was not willing to go to
My Father walked up behind her with this shit eating grin on his face, like… I gottcha ha ha!
I was somewhat relieved and began to mentally prepare for another move as I recounted all the places I had been thus far and fell to sleep in my last memory of Austin Texas.
My Life as I Remember It