Here I Go Again

No, I don’t know where I’m going, but I sure know where I’ve been and that can mean only one thing, we’re lost and need to stop for directions. Possibly, “hangry” (“millennial” term for hungry, meaning angry about being food deprived or “food challenged”), we should look for a “rest area”. Gas and snacks would help too. I always “think better” on a full tank of gas, after coffee and a quick morsel of nourishment (i.e., sour cream Pringles, and a Mountain Dew), (these were the 80’s, albeit). I’m so directionally challenged, and maps don’t “help”, so; looking in the glove box isn’t necessary, unless you are trying to further “lose” me, time itself, or my patience.

“Out of five of the most popular soft drinks, Mountain Dew has the most sugar. Taking a look at the grams per liter, Mountain Dew comes in with just a little over 121 grams of sugar. Not far behind is another soda in the PepsiCo family, Mug Root Beer. It has 114 grams of sugar. And if you thought apple juice was healthy, then guess again?” (Source and copious amounts of research and development, oh and lots and lots of sugar. Ironically, my father’s nickname for me.)

I have the unique ability to get “turned-around” even in an elevator. Thank God for GPS today. Those algorithms set to coordinates are lifesaving! Now, it all depends on cell coverage. Amazes me that we can send satellite images from one of Saturn’s moons, but if I need to place a call in my apartment, it “breaks” up and I lose the connection every time. Things that make you go hmm and if ever you are lost; stop (“Hammer Time”)! Go to the nearest place that is “safe”. We’ll begin in Rosemont, California, early seventies. There may or may not be a test at the end, so, take notes, and try and “keep up”.

“Galileo Galilei was the first to observe Saturn with a telescope in 1610. Because of the crudeness of his telescope, he couldn’t determine what the rings were. He incorrectly guessed that there were two large moons on either side of Saturn. Two years later when he viewed Saturn again, the “moons” had disappeared. We know now this is because Galileo was viewing the rings edge-on so that they were invisible, but at the time it was very confusing to Galileo. After another two years, Galileo viewed Saturn again and found that the “moons” had returned. He concluded that the rings were “arms” of some sort.”

Smokey Court was home, my first memory of “home”. Prior to a small farm out in Marysville, said to be a blissful and wholesome homestead. Smokey Court had it all! My sister, Coco, was the princess to the castle and reigned tyrannical and queenie like at her tender young age. She was ushered into this world with complete adoration and excitement. All the precious moments one could desire and wish upon. Looked like a perfect, “Gerber baby”, with dark brown curls and the brightest blue eyes, you ever saw. My Gram would call her an “angel”, and everyone doted and was expected of, as well as fawning over baby Coco. Smiling and giggly for all her pictures, sat a doll-like girl, in puffy dresses and ribbons.

“As they say, Gerber is in the business of babies, and they have been since the 1920s. Who is the Gerber baby? The famous face started appearing on Gerber products in 1928, after an open contest to find a spokes baby. Before the public found out the identity of the baby on the Gerber logo though, people speculated that the baby grew up to be a celebrity. Although the rumors and urban legends were baseless, people theorized that the Gerber baby was a famous actor; Elizabeth Taylor, Humphrey Bogart, Jane Seymour, or Brooke Shields (who is far too young to have possibly been the Gerber baby) have all been mentioned.” (Source, Wikipedia, childhood idols, neighbors, and Ann Turner Cook the child of a portrait artist.)

Her room had a purple, holly-hobbie decor, canopy bed, white dresser set, oval mirror with blue stained-glass edges, stuffed animals decorated everywhere, tailor made lace curtains, and a closet full of dresses, blouses, and fancy patent shoes, “to the nines”, of every color of the rainbow, in every variety. A Barbie doll in the making and a plethora of more dolls ornamented about. Hand crochet blankets, made of “fancy”, “effect” yarn, or “novelty” yarn. These are “special” because it’s a “structure” for the purpose of aesthetically pleasing, and fashionable impressions. Drawers chocked over full of tights, leggings, bows, barrettes, and ribbons galore. Wafting in the air, in her royal highnesses sleeping chambers, adorned with pictures, books, art, and music.

“In the late 1960’s, Hobbie sold distinctive artwork of a cat-loving, rag dress-wearing little girl in a giant bonnet to American Greetings in Cleveland, Ohio. The artwork, based on Hobbie’s own children and with rustic New England style of a bygone era, became popular, and her originally nameless character (identified earlier as “blue girl”) became known as Holly Hobbie.”

Upon entering my brother’s room, one couldn’t help but feel the “galactic” air. Star Wars themed and the millennium falcon glided and suspended from the ceiling. Contrastingly, two doors down, was my unfinished room. I slept on a cot. Not many pictures of me at all; ever, besides my one birth hospital portrait (says it all); never hung or hung with care. I did, however, have “Charger” (toy rocking horse), my loyal steed, to keep me “company”; until my mom gave him away, to a “less fortunate soul”, though I didn’t know who, to enjoy. Even at around four, clearly, there was a “pecking order” established, and that precedent remained throughout our lives, mine especially.

“If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” Shared sentiments from one Jedi to another, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope and still hoping, praying, and walking the walk. Levitation sure would have been super useful back then!

Hanging on the promises like we did on the “monkey bars” that sat in the back yard. Alongside a custom-built heart shaped pool, my dad engineered (was his “field” work and many a side passion project). Family BBQ’s every weekend! We would eat the unwashed grapes that lined the fence to the tennis court and drank straight from the hose. Barefooted and sometimes shirtless, I ran around and played, like a “tom-boy”, and “like” there was no tomorrow. Luckily, I don’t still do that! Kind of wish I could!

“Definition of tomboy: a girl who behaves in a manner usually considered boyish.”

We had a Samoyed, cloud of white fluff, named Natasha to brighten our days and “cannon ball” with into the blue oasis. My mom said, my brothers, “first word was a bark!” Separated early from my sister, her choice; my brother and I were considered, “wild” and I, “unruly” and “impulsive”. I really didn’t comprehend or fully understand what those adjectives or preconditional words used to describe us meant, but it wasn’t at all flattering, like towards or referring too, Coco.

“Samoyeds’ friendly and affable disposition makes them poor guard dogs; an aggressive Samoyed is rare. The breed is characterized by an alert and happy expression which has earned the nicknames “Sammie smile” and “smiley dog”. With their tendency to bark, however, they can be diligent watch dogs, barking whenever something approaches their territory. Samoyeds are excellent companions, especially for small children or even other dogs.” Source Wikipedia and grinning, that will make your heart smile with joy and laughter.

In the songs of yesterday, Willie Nelson played on the road again and again. Like a rhinestone cowboy hummed through the stereo cabinet on Saturday mornings, along with the “hunka hunka”, King of Rock n Roll himself, Elvis. I grew up hearing Glen Campbell, Simon and Garfunkel, Connie Francis, Barbara Streisand, Neil Diamond, John Denver, The Righteous Brothers, Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, Merle and Cash, Sonny and Cher, Ike and Tina, Aretha, and The Supremes, Motown, Bee gees, Beatles, Beach Boys and some Oak Ridge Boys, just to name a few. There’s at least a thousand more.

“I hope
Life treats you kind
And I hope
You have all you’ve dreamed of
And I wish you joy
And happiness
But above all this
I wish you love
And I…
Will always love you”

Let me tell you about this stereo cabinet from either Woolworth’s or Jimco; it was a 4 x 2, ornately carved, saints’ symbol, applique, and a dark cherry, rosewood, long table, really. It held a record player that you put record albums on. A needle would be placed on the spot of the album you wanted to listen to and magically sound would resonate from the speakers on either side of the cabinet and fill the house with music that couldn’t help but make you “move” and sometimes, “shake a tail feather”. I don’t care what you say, antiques are cool.

“No one ever said life was fair. Just Eventful.” ― Carol Burnett.

HeeHaw and the Mandrel Sisters, American Bandstand, and the Carol Burnett Show, were on the “boob tube”, a small 20-inch, colored television, in the family room. Pete’s dragon was on a constant loop after school for my entertainment and likely “supervision”. Sesame Street was “right outside” our cul-de-sac and, “life was but a dream”. We were an ideal, seemingly, “all American”, middle-class, “dream team”, close-knit family unit.

“Sesame Street is the longest running children’s program in the U.S. In 2008, it was estimated that 77 million Americans had watched the series as children.”

My mom had a small day-care facility she “home grew” and my dad worked for the State of California’s, Department of Justice, on a new “private”, highly classified, project involving a computerized finger printing system. He worked within and “with” our top state officials, and leading experts of that day, and other governments around the world; for the betterment of humanity to try and capture the worst offenders the devil propagated and populated into this world. He was a real, “justice for all”, kind of guy.

“The United States Department of Justice (DOJ), also known as the Justice Department, is a federal executive department of the United States government tasked with the enforcement of federal law and administration of justice in the United States. It is equivalent to the justice or interior ministries of other countries. The department is headed by the U.S. Attorney General, who reports directly to the president of the United States and is a member of the president’s Cabinet. The current attorney general is Merrick Garland, who was sworn in on March 11, 2021.”

“The modern incarnation of the department was formed in 1870 during the Ulysses S. Grant presidency. The department is composed of federal law enforcement agencies, including the U.S. Marshals Service, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, the Drug Enforcement Administration, and the Federal Bureau of Prisons. The primary actions of the DOJ are investigating instances of white-collar crime, representing the U.S. government in legal matters (such as in cases before the Supreme Court), and running the federal prison system. The department is also responsible for reviewing the conduct of local law enforcement as directed by the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994.”

At the time, and up until a couple of years ago, the “East area rapist”, was in the back of every female’s shadow, lurking and creeping, into our sanctuaries and safe spaces, right in “our backyard”. My parents both felt the fear of God, after two break-ins occurred and we packed up our entire lives and did a “first” in real estate; house swap, traded.

“The Golden State Killer was a serial rapist turned serial killer who terrorized Californians in the 1970s and ’80s. The killer was at large for decades until DNA evidence led to the arrest of Joseph DeAngelo in 2018, who pleaded guilty in June 2020.” When he was finally captured, then, I realized we were neighbors and lived not that far from one another, again!

We moved to El Dorado Hills, Patterson Way, and the life once known took a drastic and, frankly, evil “Knievel”, turn. Daredevil, Evel Knievel did some amazing death-defying stunts, back in “those” days and “spawned” a generation of crazy, reckless, “accident prone”, wild, unruly and out-of-control, humorous, and shocking antics ever since. If not yet baptized; you may want another after this story. I know I do!

“A man can fall many times in life, but he’s never a failure until he refuses to get back up.” ~ Evel Knievel

Looking like Brooke Shields from Blue Lagoon, Coco, and the rest of us pulled up in our white dodge van to an ominous, dark, three story, Amityville horror type, “dwelling”, atop a winding, almost 90-degree incline, driveway. Over 3000 square feet of “devil worshipping” grounds rested, unsettlingly, at the top of the hill, were my sister blurted out fear strikingly, “I don’t want to go in there!”

“On November 14, 1974, police received a frantic phone call that led them to a grisly crime scene at the Defeo residence in Amityville, Long Island. An entire family had been slaughtered in their beds. In the days that followed, Ronald Defeo confessed to methodically shooting his parents and four siblings while they slept.” “Condemned to six sentences of 25 years to life.” “DeFeo died aged 69 on March 12, 2021, at the Albany Medical Center. The official cause of death has not been released to the public.”

We all stepped, unseeingly, into the unknown; another dimension, and entered our “new house” as the “old” inhabitants once sat in a circle, enveloped with pitch black darkness. “Casting” unspeakable curses into the night, the house, and upon us. I will forever remember “them” and never saw my childhood, angelic, heavenly created, home afterwards. My once Christian sister, before my eyes, turned and twisted.

“Heartaches come and go and all that’s left are the words
I can’t let go”

An’ I’ve made up my mind after many years living inside a truly haunted house, that “poltergeists” and said phenomena, did and does, have an impact on “earthly” energies (i.e., us). What cannot be seen with the naked eye is still very much relevant, especially in the field of medicine and science, and in dire need of “updated”, current research, study, and development.

What’s In Your Brain?

How “environmental” factors can contribute and attribute to a person’s “psyche”; is a “walk on eggshells”, “untapped”, field of study, that can have major impacts and “implications” pertaining to adolescence, hormonal triggering’s, chemical imbalances, growth and formation for one’s development (mentally and socially), not to mention, abnormal computations in the brain. I believe; the leading cause for mental disorders, a lifelong stigma, overdoses, imprisonment, chemical dependency, and “cluster” “disorders” of every ferocity.

Tangina Barrons: You can’t choose between life and death when we’re dealing with what is in between.

Factoring in, the “seven deadly sins” were “used” upon us and sleep deprivation was this poltergeist’s chief weapon. Initially, the first “indication” felt and endured had “lasting” effects, and chronic symptoms then “manufactured”, manifested, and ultimately, festered. First aid should have been applied, and sadly, my family was “blind” to each other, and themselves.

“One great power of sin is that it blinds men so that they do not recognize its true character.”

Ironically, we actually, all as a family together, watched the movie, Poltergeist, in that house, along with Flowers in the Attic, Jaws, Jagged Edge, and Fatal Attraction. Reading material consisted of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings Trilogies, National Geographic magazines, or Encyclopedia Britannica for “light,” comforting bedtime stories. Terrifying and unbeknownst, “triggering”, for this house “came alive”, like “Little Shop of Horrors, Audrey did, right thereafter.

“Listen Seymour”

El Dorado Hills sits about 19 miles from Coloma, the original “find” site, “ground zero” for the 1848 California Gold Rush. The mountain appeared from the shadows, like Dante Alighieri’s, Divine Comedy incarnated. Some serious horsepower was needed or a good four wheel drive up, and a winding, quick right too another steep incline on this lonely, desolate, dark side, “beast”, of the mountain’s road.

“When I had journeyed half of our life’s way,
I found myself within a shadowed forest,
for I had lost the path that does not stray.”

You would see extensive oak trees, foliage, more “other” kinds of trees, and “some” animal life, but mostly on the “other” side of the mountain. Roadkill would appear on the asphalt, so you had to keep a “watchful” eye. Some “pterodactyl” sized buzzards circled the pinnacle, just to give that warm welcome as you ascend upwards. Patterson Way had the Sierra Mountain views and were majestic, a painter’s dream landscape and perfect for a lone wolf, or black widow.

A group of buzzards is called a wake, so wakey-wakey!

As I drive you around the mountain top, you’ll see some uniquely built homes for this area and some very intriguing anecdotal as too why. On one side of the mountain (Purgatorio is Italian for Purgatory) were the people who enjoyed a more “recluse”, solitary, “artistic and creative” customs. Quiet, appearingly peaceful, life choices; while on the other side of the mountain (Paradiso is Italian for Paradise), were the celebrities, “silver spoons”, elite and “elitist”, “trust funders”, “old-money”, and “new-money”, architects, musicians, politicians, high-priced spies (you never heard that), and wealthy “new tech” resided, collaborated, rested and relaxed, celebrated, and nestled there, “better than everyone else’s”, heads on feather down pillows and duvet covers.

“While the everlasting pleasure, that did full On Beatrice shine, with second view from her fair countenance my gladden’d soul Contented; vanquishing me with a beam of her soft smile, she spake: “Turn thee, and list. These eyes are not thy only Paradise.”

At least a 300-thread count, my mother sighed at me! I have got to tell you, there are “consumers”, companies, and teams of people, who think about this and “do this” for an actual living. Apparently, the upper-class can tell the difference, but a 400-thread count, means your sheets and dreams will be “light and airy”. Hopefully, you think about this before bed, tonight.

Lusso 1030 Thread Count Sateen Sheet Set- $2,365

Partied like the rock stars they were! Immersed with an open, no obstructions in sight, view of the entire valley “floor”. We called it the “top of the world” and at night, the city lights would dance like sparkling gemstones from a distance. Fireworks were “insane to the membranes”, and literally every show on display responded with oohs and awes and the colorful bombs gave way to a truly magical moment in my life; I will never forget. “What goes up; must come down.” I could see for miles and miles; all the way to the high rises of downtown Sacramento (45-minute drive, then).

“If you think that I don’t know about the little tricks you’ve played
And never see you when deliberately you put things in my way …”

Nothing welcoming about this home or neighboring homes, either. The three flights of stairs, just to get to more stairs, before the front door. There was, also, a flight of stairs, downward, leading to the garage. And more, independent, adjacent, stairs outside, and up to a large circumference surrounding deck. Guess what? Inside, more spooky stairs, that lead to the remaining upper-level house, where everyone detached from each other and went our own perspective ways (more “ways” than one).

“There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs.”

My brother and I would explore the great outdoors, play “fort”, imagine “dragons”, swim (we named our pool sweep, Igor), ping pong wizard warring epic battles, and just being children, while my sister and mom would stay inside, watching Days of Our Lives. Interestingly enough and sadly, runs tandem with our story, was “Patch” and “Kayla’s” insidious “playbook” of domestic violence, and incestuous story line, all “labeled”, “day-time” television.

“What force is more potent than love?”

You can definitely see why parents “safeguard”, what their children “watch”, and are exposed too or infiltrated with, in today’s world. Monitoring is ensuring your child’s protection and should be a natural response to child rearing. Not to mention or bring up a “sore” subject, but you, also; should “watch”, monitor, television use and the “programs”, “shows” you are absorbing into your brain.

“Like sands through the hourglass… so are the Days of Our Lives.”

Trust me. “Rome wasn’t built in a day”. “A journey of 1000 miles, starts with a single step.” However, the 70’s and 80’s, the lackadaisical, apathetic, disinterested, and the “out of sight, out of mind”, approach was detrimental to the family core, counterproductive, and counterintuitive.

“Recorded as ‘Rome ne fu pas faite toute en un jour’, the phrase was captured in a medieval French poem dating to 1190 that was published in the book Li Proverbe au Vilain by Swiss linguist Adolf Tobler in 1895.”

I ain’t wasting no more time and wanted “out” the second, we got there. Underneath this “mammoth” barn on stilts was the darkest, spine-chilling, haunting, black abyss, that no one brave enough entered and no one “darkened”, or so we hoped. Only place I ever experienced “insomnia” and for my father the initial stages of deep, sleep apnea that clung to him, tightly, with a “death grip”.

“Before diving deeper into the topic, insomnia is a sleep disorder typically characterized by difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep. Insomnia can also be either acute (short-term) or chronic (long-term), depending on how long it lasts and how often it reoccurs.”

“According to MedAlertHelp (and a few unsettling, terrifying bouts), plus most insomnia statistics, some of the more frequent causes include everyday stress, illness, discomfort, different environmental factors (such as a change in temperature), reaction to certain medications (used to treat allergies, depression, and so on), or jet lag. Since millions of people worldwide have insomnia and other sleep disorders, it’s essential to be informed about the most relevant statistics and facts.”

“Around 70 million US citizens have a sleep disorder, with insomnia being the most common one. In fact, 10% of people in the US have long-term (chronic) insomnia.” “$146 billion are spent annually on medical costs related to sleep disorders.” I’m awake! Woah!

I didn’t start to see the “symptoms” in the other family members, for a long while, and really wasn’t capable of “grasping” its “origins” till later in life. I actually slept for an entire month on the couch, with zero recollection of October, Halloween (my fav holiday, at the time), school, or anything. Spent a month in a “coma” state of being, and when I awoke my family had little reaction, went on as “normal”.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge ‘The Witch’ poem tells a short story about the life of the speaker, the witch, and the destruction she wrought on one someone who tried to help her.

“I have walked a great while over the snow,
And I am not tall nor strong.
My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,
And the way was hard and long.
I have wandered over the fruitful earth,
But I never came here before.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!
The cutting wind is a cruel foe.
I dare not stand in the blast.
My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,
And the worst of death is past.
I am but a little maiden still,
My little white feet are sore.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!
Her voice was the voice that women have,
Who plead for their heart’s desire.
She came—she came—and the quivering flame
Sunk and died in the fire.
It never was lit again on my hearth
Since I hurried across the floor,
To lift her over the threshold and let her in at the door.”

Source Poem Analysis,, and personal experience.

Here was my first introduction to the “emergency room” and having to go to the hospital for myself. I passed out and have no memory after I saw a police car chase my mother on the freeway, speeding to the hospital. Can’t drink bath water, so playing “mad tea party” in the bathtub was really quite “mad” and not for consumption, just “make believe”. My brother and I developed asthma, so we were told, and he had to wear tubes in his ears for years. In this house memories are “sickeningly”, blurry and utterly distasteful.

“Ah! that accounts for it,’ said the Hatter. `He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!” (Source, Psychos, University in leu of Wonderland, Alice’s, malice, and a ton of “other” things, overhear, maybe there, online everywhere!)

Every pumpkin was smashed (way before the band and probably a “neighboring” link) and every Christmas light broken without ever seeing a soul or hearing a peep. “They” tried telling me Santa didn’t exist, but realistically, let’s “call a spade a spade”; Santa didn’t know where El Dorado Hills was or, if it, existed at all, and would never give presents to the “naughty”, especially the not nice.

“The world is a vampire
Sent to drain
Secret destroyers
Hold you up to the flames
And what do I get
For my pain?
Betrayed desires
And a piece of the game
Even though I know
I suppose I’ll show
All my cool and cold
Like old Job
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say, “What is lost can never be saved”?”
I added the question mark. All these years from 1995 this song still has me questioning the trajectory of forward momentum, silver bullets, butterflies, mental illness, Gen X, hope, and faith.

Now the pumpkin thing, turned out to be nasty teenagers, stealing the “festive” fruit ornamentation and then proceeding to hurl it down the mountain side, which was one of only two exits and entrances into this ridge side of Earth or Mordor seems more apropos. Rumors about the neighbor kids being bullies; stopped by with rocks, throwing them at us from the fence line. It was just another event slash example, for me, solidifying why I shouldn’t “be” there, and that I definitely didn’t belong, and was never going too.

Quick Bing search resulted: “Workplace Bullying Survey conducted in June 2017:
19 percent of Americans are bullied.
19 percent witness bullying in the workplace.
70 percent of bullies in the workplace are men and 60 percent of the targets are women.
61 percent of bullies are bosses.
29 percent of targets remain silent about their experiences.”

“Bullying is the use of force, coercion, hurtful teasing or threat, to abuse, aggressively dominate or intimidate. The behavior is often repeated and habitual. One essential prerequisite is the perception (by the bully or by others) of an imbalance of physical or social power. This imbalance distinguishes bullying from conflict. Bullying is a subcategory of aggressive behavior characterized by hostile intent, imbalance of power and repetition over a period of time. Bullying is the activity of repeated, aggressive behavior intended to hurt another individual, physically, mentally or emotionally.” (Source Wikipedia, family, school, work, and life experience.)

Nothing was sacred. Coco’s bunnies (Flower and Brownie were their names, ode to Bambi) were either killed or left abandoned (fatal attraction style), in the “underworld” or underneath the house, by my sister, or some unknown monster, and she had no reaction. My mother, actually, said, “Don’t let Coco watch Bambi, she’ll burn the forest down!” Our cat, Zeus, went “bonkers” and clawed at me, got on two legs and chased me till my brother came to “save me and the day”.

“It is directed by talented directors, James Algar, David hand, Graham Heid, Paul Satterfield and more and is loosely based on the book entitled ‘Bambi, a Life in the Woods’ by Felix Salten who is an Austrian author as well as a hunter. The plot revolves around ‘Bambi’ a young male white-tailed deer who is very attached to his mother and his coming of age from childhood to adulthood, including difficult challenges he faces along the way.
Throughout the plot, ‘Bambi’ grows up, makes friends along the way, falls in love, becomes The Great Prince of the Forest as per his destiny, protects the forest animals from a wildfire, and eventually ends up becoming a father to twins who are the future Great Princes of The Forest. The name ‘Bambi’ itself means “baby deer.”
(Source and my love for Disney and all God’s creatures)

The so-called, security alarm rang every night after my dad, carefully, checked each door and window, in his nightly routine. Vivid, heinous, and hellish nightmares ensued, so much so, that I was able to sleep through, a few times, the resounding ringing, dead of night, by the alarm.

“Never Ending Nightmare
Always there instead of you
Never Ending Nightmare
No escape this time from you”

Dad fell or “pushed” through the ceiling landing on the stairs, whilst fixing the whole house fan and sealing the attic from drafts and openings. No matter the heater, coats, blankets, leg warmers, mittens, beanies, a fire in the fireplace with fresh kindling’s, and the newly installed insulation; that house was freezing, and we suffered from hypothermia once or twice.

“A condition of having a lower body temperature than normal body temperature. It causes excessive shivering, slowed breathing, mumbled speech, confusion, drowsiness and weak pulse.”

Speaking of hypothermia, Coco would hold me under the water, and physically hold me down, imposing her will and to ensure dominance by “striking and instilling fear”. We (unspoken family rule) had to keep our doors locked, because she would aimlessly walk-through void of her surroundings, emotions, consciousness, or “just”, completely “out of her gourd”.

“This, is your awakening!​ by Judith Espinosa”
“You realize that it is time to stop hoping and waiting for something to magically change or for happiness, safety and security, to come galloping like a wild horse over the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that there is no Prince Charming or Cinderella … and that in the real world, there aren’t always fairy tale endings, or beginnings for that matter. You realize that any “happily ever after” MUST begin with you … and with this, a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.”

I never heard disembodied or “disenfranchised” voices and my sister never spoke in Latin or tongues (although probably, prominently, and proudly stated on her resume, she sure does). Nor did any heads spin around, but there was most assuredly, eerie creaks, muffled bumps, and banging, and things being opened or occurring without a rational, reasonable, or scientific explanation. Probably the most unnerving are flickering of lights on and off, slamming of doors, and unseen but clearly heard, footsteps from seemingly, nowhere.

“Perhaps evil is the crucible of goodness … and perhaps even Satan – Satan, in spite of himself; somehow serves to work out the will of God.”

My father felt logic and reason, much like Spock (Star Trek), were healthy components to rational thinking. Without hesitance, stated, “there’s no such thing as ghosts!” His behavior would say otherwise, and don’t actions speak louder than words? Actions, “hit” harder that’s for sure. He really should have used his “inside voice”. None of us seemed to find what the “source” was, or God only knew why. Maybe it was because we were “phony” when it came to the Lord, and not, “as thine oneself be true”, as should have been.

“Insufficient facts always invite danger.” – Spock

The family bonds were breaking and violence towards each other started to shape-shift. Another weapon used by demons, sadism, perversion, and mercilessness. I feel, “demons”, “work” on us like we would an old 57 Chevy, and get “under the hood”, sort of speak, and “tinker” or “monkey” around with our emotions and tangle everything up; just for the fun of it or sheer boredom, get the motor running, or to prove an ungodly point.

“Yet I think the demon’s target is not the possessed; it is us . . . the observers . . . every person in this house. And I think; I think, the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien: to see ourselves as ultimately bestial; as ultimately vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy.”

Belts, slapping, pushing, spanking, name-calling, “grounding”, and banishments now existed, layered on thick were the physical threats, “jabs”, humiliations, and “promises” if ill-behaved, inappropriate, unpolished, unrefined, ill-timed, uninvolved, unintelligent, uncooperative, spoke out of turn, or just being a silly, clumsy, awkward, naïve, inquisitive, gullible, dumb, innocent kid. Did I get my point, across?

“Without followers, evil cannot spread.” – Spock, ‘Star Trek’, Season 3, episode 5.

However, I tangent, the seeds of bitter dissension had been planted and no one was “bearing any fruit”. Everything spoiled instead, within each of us, and the house took “forever” to sell; so, in the meantime, we abandoned “ship”, leaving an empty vessel of God knows what, behind.

Scripture: 2 Kings 4:1-6 ~ God is continually looking for empty vessels to fill with his oil of grace and mercy from a limitless supply.

Matter of fact, we left behind, a brand-new pool, with waterfalls cascading, Igor, a giant fake owl, new carpet and paint, and an additional room with vaulted ceilings, my father built, and I practiced my twirling baton. There were moments that were so heartfelt and touching, in the “right” way and with the “right” lighting. Couldn’t “photoshop” those memories for all the gold in “them their hills”.

“Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed”

I ain’t wasting no more time and we placed Patterson Way “up for sale” and headed downtown to a high rise named Bridgeway Towers. Unfortunately, we “bubble wrapped” those demons from Patterson Way up and packed them into a “wardrobe” sized cardboard box with us, taped sealed, “fragile” sticker labeled and all.

“Moving costs vary between different companies, and each company comes up with their own rates and fees. The average cost of moving out of state is anywhere from $1,500 to more than $4,500 on a move.” (Source and countless moves in state, around state, out-skirts of said state, and completely out-of-my-state-of-mind state.) Big shout-out, though, to starving students, Folsom relocation, United, and all the awesome workers who laboriously work hard for not-enough money, but such good deeds!

Still some sleepless nights to be had and just unable to “shake” the reoccurring nightmares about having to go back to the house on the dreadful hill, the haunted mountain, mansion. As unfortunate as it is to have a nightmare, and especially one that keeps occurring; one is better to try and “figure out”, what your subconscious is trying to inform you of.

Frightening dreams are not always related to an underlying condition. It may be caused by:
Sleep deprivation
Severe stress or anxiety due to major life event eg. bereavement of loved one
Reading scary books or watching scary movies before going to bed (especially in children)
Certain medications (antidepressants, antihypertensives, antiparkinsonian drugs)
Substance abuse – alcohol, drugs use/withdrawal

Though I keep searching for an answer, it’s wise to review the inner mind’s subconscious “tape”; always alert and “running”, regardless of, if you are awake or asleep and it records everything, near and far. Some studies demonstrate and report quite a vast field, around said case study subjects. The subconscious mind is one million times more powerful than any computer and controls 95% of our lives. Holy mackerel! That’s a lot of mega bites to digest and never chew with your mouth open! It is the source of love and fear; so, every time you say, “I feel”, or “I love”, it’s coming from your subconscious.

The word nightmare is derived from the Old English mare, a mythological demon or goblin who torments others with frightening dreams. The term has no connection with the Modern English word for a female horse. The word nightmare is cognate with the Dutch term nachtmerrie and German Nachtmahr (dated). The sorcerous demons of Iranian mythology known as Divs are likewise associated with the ability to afflict their victims with nightmares. (Source Wikipedia, sorcerous mythology, scary as hell folklore, vile hexes, hell-fire curses, water beds, no dozes in extreme doses, and hateful energies)

We better be much nicer to ourselves after this “bite” of awareness. Tastes super healthy and no cholesterol, gluten, dairy, or soy. Gives a whole new meaning too, “go with your gut”, “use your instincts”, and “the mind’s eye, knows all”. One of the many ways your subconscious communicates is through dreams; so “night-night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite”, or for my liking, “I will see you in my dreams”, or better yet, “sweet dreams.”

“The Bogeyman or conceptually similar monsters can be found in many cultures around the world. Bogeymen may target a specific act or general misbehavior, depending on what purpose needs serving, often based on a warning from the child’s authority figure. The term “Bogeyman” is sometimes used as a non-specific personification or metonym for terror, and in some cases, the Devil.”

I never seem to find what I’m looking for and conveniently, we moved to the high-rise right next to my Gram’s, Capitol Towers. Life became peaceful, for a moment, and “things” started to look up! The jazz festival was utterly music manna for this impressionable and musically inclined, girl. The trumpets, saxophones, and even a sousaphone graced downtown’s, electrifying sidewalks. When, the “Saints go Marching In”, “blasted”, sonically through the buildings, like assumed “Mardi Gras” parades. You could “feel” the electricity in the air.

“The origin of the word jazz has resulted in considerable research, and its history is well documented. It is believed to be related to jasm, a slang term dating back to 1860 meaning “pep, energy”. The earliest written record of the word is in a 1912 article in the Los Angeles Times in which a minor league baseball pitcher described a pitch which he called a “jazz ball” “because it wobbles and you simply can’t do anything with it”.” (Thanks Wikipedia, Bebop, Ragtime, Swing, all things brass, the saxophone, Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Sacramento Jazz Festival, Monterrey, philosophy, and years of fandom)

What a sight for the senses and the musically sensible. You must go “experience” what the Jazz Festival in Sacramento is all about, or any jazz; and dance in the streets like your David Bowie, or “got moves like Jagger”! Every night around dusk, you will see the black crows circling the buildings and there’s your omen, cue the lights and withdraw from the day and return inward for the night. Downtown isn’t “safe” after dark, so we better get inside and fix some supper.

“Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man’s soul an faith”

Dinners consisted of either a 5-star restaurant or drive thru fast food, (Mountain Mike’s Pizza, or McDonalds). Top restaurants included table-side chefs, on verandas (Cliff House), cooking ready made to order omelets, and non-alcoholic mimosas, because I’m still underage for brunches that serve “punch’s”, at this stage in the “game”.

Butler Passed Hors Douvres consist of Tuna Tartar on a Toasted Wonton with Sweet and Spicy Sauce, Red Potatoes with Smoked Salmon, Egg Mimosa and Caviar, Avocado Egg Rolls with Tamarind Dipping Sauce, Hawaiian Grilled London broil on Skewers, Sweet and Sticky Chicken Skewers, Gravlox on Pumpernickel Rounds (Merci, Monsieur 5-Star … that was just the snacks before the main course. I was already full on the bread sticks and lemon water.)

Gourmet seafood restaurants (Monterrey’s Fish House, Lucas Wharf, and Timbercove to name a few) that served in the most peculiar, audacious, and extravagantly delectable ways, calamari, oysters (putrid to me), lobster (insects of the sea), halibut, scallops, sword fish, and even some shark; among many “other” things on the “high-priced”, always maroon and gold, menu.

“Dining in many of the country’s most popular restaurants involves a significant bank balance. Many people might assume that the most expensive restaurants in the country are located in California, but the most expensive is actually located in Manhattan. However, California restaurants aren’t far behind. Five of the most expensive restaurants in the country are located in California”, according to and my dream job someday in the nearer rather than far off future.
Urasawa Beverly Hills – $488 per person.
French Laundry Yountville – $297 per person.
The Kitchen Sacramento – $163 per person.
Meadowood Napa Valley – $163 per person.
Saam at the Bazaar by Jose Andres Los Angeles – $156 per person

Rudy’s Hideaway for “mind blowing”, herb, stuffed salmon or “striper”. Fat’s for aptly named gorging on Chinese food, of exceptional caliber. Sam’s for a prime rib dip, par to none. Steak houses that would “melt your face”, so good! Cattlemen’s for rib-eye, and Sheepherder’s Inn had something like 12 course meals, of just one plate coming after the other. Can you imagine being that dishwasher, back then, for two dollars an hour? I’m probably not that far off, wage wise. I remember $4 dollars an hour.

“It boasts a daily-changing omakase menu of 30 or more courses, which will set you back about $450 per person before tax, tip and drinks. The average check costs more than $1,000 per person. It’s not just the most expensive restaurant in California, it’s one of the most expensive restaurants on Earth.” How much for a doggy-bag to-go, please!?

Most evenings, lasagna (I loathe), beef stroganoff (I detest), or cheese curry chicken (gut busting, “gob of goo”). Food was always a problem for me. Everything I ate, turned “sour” in my stomach and I spent the majority of my life, “doubled over” in pain and anguish. Don’t you dare, “insult” the chef; you’ll “rue” the day you did! Bile acid would fill my stomach and stomach lining rendering me with excruciating pain. Did you know that bile acid can actually burn through concrete; so, imagine, internally, trying to digest, what that “feels” like.

“According to the National Institutes of Health, up to 23.5 million Americans suffer from an autoimmune disease, and the incidence of many of the conditions is rising for reasons that aren’t entirely clear. And the list of potentially fatal autoimmune diseases, or those that can shorten life span, is long.” (Source, genetics, superstition, and gluttony.)

Auto-immune diseases are “no joke”, like, navigating through a treacherous landmine. Like a human pincushion, I was medically “treated” with copious amounts of anti-biotics, pills, ointments, creams, anti-inflammatories, and tests that poked, prodded, scraped, bleed, x-rayed, burned (chemical), and scalded. Diagnosed with inflammatory bowel disease in the fourth grade and hospitalized a few times in my life.

“Life and death with an autoimmune disease; There are now more than 100 autoimmune diseases, in which the immune system that would normally help a person fight off disease instead mistakenly attacks healthy tissue and does damage to the body.”

Oddly, my mother showed signs of enjoyment and elation while “shuttling” and shuffling me (she called it chauffeuring), reluctantly and anxiously, “battered and bruised”, lethargic and weepy, dragging with nausea and fatigue, back and forth, up and down the mountain, to each excruciating doctor’s appointments and her face would “light up” when any medical professional was nearby or wafted into the vicinity.

“The Cleveland Clinic reported that about 1 percent of people have Munchausen syndrome and two in every 100,000 children are thought to be the victims of Munchausen by proxy. However, because caregivers go to great lengths to manipulate family, friends, and doctors, it’s not known how many cases go undetected.”

Some “close calls” were my blood pressure dropped to 90 over 50, and my white blood cells were always in the low abnormal range. My game of dodgeball was dodging surgeries. Side effects from medications meant I couldn’t go out into the sun or when I did, broke my leg and then my arm. My leg playing hide and go seek. My arm, while trying to roller skate. I fell on the carpet before ever getting to the rink. Still can’t skate or ride a bike, luckily there’s other things to enjoy. Reading is safer, and I got to do a lot of that.

The 100 greatest novels of all time according to Here’s 10 of them to ponder over while reading for hours, days, and years. Try to move ever so often as not too “lock up”, stay hydrated while sipping pink tea, and keep snacks or refreshments around for that fuel up the mountain and back again.
Don Quixote Miguel De Cervantes
The story of the gentle knight and his servant Sancho Panza has entranced readers for centuries.
Pilgrim’s Progress John Bunyan
The one with the Slough of Despond and Vanity Fair.
Robinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe
The first English novel.
Gulliver’s Travels Jonathan Swift
A wonderful satire that still works for all ages, despite the savagery of Swift’s vision.
Tom Jones Henry Fielding
The adventures of a high-spirited orphan boy.
Clarissa Samuel Richardson
One of the longest novels in the English language, but unputdownable.
Tristram Shandy Laurence Sterne
One of the first bestsellers, dismissed by Dr Johnson as too fashionable for its own good.
Dangerous Liaisons Pierre Choderlos De Laclos
An epistolary novel and a handbook for seducers: foppish, French, and ferocious.
Emma Jane Austen
Near impossible choice between this and Pride and Prejudice. But Emma never fails to fascinate and annoy.
Frankenstein Mary Shelley
Inspired by spending too much time with Shelley and Byron.

My temperature was always low, and I was depleted of essential vitamins and minerals to dangerous levels. Boils riddled my body and after vomiting most mornings awoke to blood-stained sheets. Infections seemed to multiply and there were huge blocks of time, school, life, and memories “erased”, “wiped clean”. “Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and if you have time to lean, you have time to clean”, mottos from back in the day.

“Some studies have shown that “normal” body temperature can have a wide range, from 97 ° F (36.1 ° C) to 99 ° F (37.2 ° C). A temperature above 100.4 ° F (38 ° C) usually means you have a fever caused by an infection or illness.” (Source, wicked chills, and feverish ills)

I Love Lucy, was one of my only enjoyments and consolation, that and my conversations with my beloved Gram, writing letters too, in the moment, “best” friends, before passing in and out of consciousness. I was a “vision”, a “sight for sore eyes”. Too make matters just a little more, worse, I ended up needing braces. Had fangs that needed to come down, and a couple teeth turned around. Oh, and least I forget, the cross and overbite. The proverbial, “cherry on the cake”.

“Meaning A “cherry on top” refers to a small, seemingly extra detail that ends up making a good situation even better, in spite of being insignificant in scope to the rest of the situation.” (Source, orthodontists, sarcasm, manners, and cake.)

Had a “neat” (*Sarcastic sigh*) contraption called “the snake”. That was dental terms for the use of “rubber bands”, placed zig zagged across my “braces”, face, and entire mouth. Coco had full-on “head gear”, for four years straight, and wasn’t aloud out during a lightning storm and probably could have tuned into HBO. Doesn’t that sound “medieval”? Well, it was barbaric and caused an already fragile, sensitive to pain, human body receptors to agonizing levels. I almost severed my tongue in half, needing stitches, but my mom said, “we’re on vacation at Disneyland, you should try and enjoy yourself.

“Serendipity is a noun, coined in the middle of the 18th century by author Horace Walpole (he took it from the Persian fairy tale The Three Princes of Serendip). The adjective form is serendipitous, and the adverb is serendipitously. A serendipitist is “one who finds valuable or agreeable things not sought for,” and especially whilst in need of a dentist.

Serendipitously, two dentists stood in line with us, waiting for the Matterhorn, and had wax strips to place over the poking metal to help stop the bleeding, soothe and smooth as to ensure I didn’t lose half my tongue. There’s a scar today! Another nugget of information, the tongue is a very sensitive place for pain receptors. 100 receptors, in one cubic centimeter, as opposed to 10 receptors, in one cubic centimeter, pertaining to a human’s back. So just try and enjoy yourself, wherever you are, knowing that! My back is a whole notha issue for another day of writing, yoga, inflexibility, uncontrollable laughter, spasms, and the kinks called life.

“Here come the dancers one by one,
Your mamas calling but you’re having fun
You’ll find you’re dancing on a number nine cloud
Put your hands together and sing
It out loud.”

I would “mock”, my sister, really girls just having fun, for listening to “glam rock” bands, Bon Jovi, Motley Crew, and Cinderella, expressively. I would “pretend sing”, while imitating there, outlandish, flashy, gyrates. It was hilarious to me and not so much for Coco. She was “busy”, writing her deep and “introspective” thoughts to her, then first love, “Gonzo Vasquez” (changed his name for nobody wants to get sued). Coco was “cool” that way and we would listen to music for hours.

“I ain’t got a fever, I got a permanent disease
It’ll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy
I got lots of money, but it isn’t what I need
Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison out of me
And I got all the symptoms, count ’em one, two, three”

We emulated their hair too, teasing, hair spraying, and curling iron mishaps aplenty. Okay, Aqua Net was an aromatic, chemical, automatic “given”, hair spray that consisted of fused, tiny particles of glue. And it worked! You can keep your “up do”, coif, or what looks like electrocution via a light socket lasting for “days” on end. Coco also took make-up to a “whole notha level”. She spent hours, perfecting her “look”, and it had to be “perfect”. Sharing a bathroom was never easy, and “word-up”, it never will be.

“I come home, in the mornin’ light
My mother says, “When you gonna live your life right?”
Oh, momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones
And girls, they wanna have fun
Oh, girls just wanna have fun …”

Didn’t help that my mother was fully aware of my “medical conditions”, and that she insisted on cooking, or I should say, undercooking meats. My food was still trying to “out-run” my plate, and I was repulsed trying to eat bloody steak. Actually, my mom and sister liked raw hamburger and would take “bites” from the blood-soaked packages, salt a piece, and pop it in their mouths. Naturally, I avoided them, and the kitchen, sneaking to find chips or something quick sustaining and then retreat back to my room. Well, now that I have successfully ruined your appetite, let’s get back to the “meat” of the story.

Salmonellosis is a bacterial infection caused by Salmonella and occurs as a result of eating undercooked beef.
Listeria monocytogenes is a type of bacteria found in the soil, poultry, and cattle.
E.coli Food Poisoning; Escherichia coli is a type of bacteria that has several strains and is mostly found in the intestines of cattle.
Campylobacteriosis. This is another health risk associated with consuming undercooked steak. It is caused by Campylobacter bacteria normally found in the digestive tract of poultry and cattle.
And lastly, Parasitic Infections; There are many strains of bacteria found in raw or undercooked steak that can cause food poisoning.

Oh Lord, I pray, and we were attending St John Vianney Catholic school and parish, for private schooling 4th grade through 8th grade. My sister, whom soon to be graduated, was enrolled at St. Francis high school as a freshman. You were probably wondering when God, was going to make his grand appearance, but please remember, God is everywhere! We went through this together and I found Faith, comfort, and “shelter” going to the school’s church. Read “footprints in the sand” poem, for further directions. God had to carry me.

In 1839, “A Psalm of Life” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow contained the lines:
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

Actually, there is much dispute with that poem. At least three have litigated its rightful ownership, staked claim. I believe, it belongs to Jesus, now. However, I sure do appreciate such a beautiful sentiment, poetic expression of life, love, and faith. If ever you find yourself down, or lost, look for the angels in art, music, poetry, and literature. You’ll find everything you need to know, there.

“The Three Graces were reputed to be the essence of beauty, charm, and grace and were closely associated with the Nine Muses who presided and inspired song, dance, music, poetry and the sciences. They were regarded as the inspirers of the qualities which give attractiveness to wisdom, love, culture and social interaction.” (Source

Sitting in the fourth pew down from the left side row of pews, right next to the Mother Mary statue, were she’s holding a bouget of flowers, smiling upon me. Jesus hanging prominently, from the Cross was the focal point upon entering this beautiful and glorious house of worship. If there ever was a person who “knew” pain, Jesus was him. The church became my refuge, was the only place, I could breathe easier.

Hail, Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
The first Hail Mary prayer recorded consisted only of the words of Gabriel and Elizabeth as written in Luke 1.

You give me strength to carry on and when the school bell rang, I shot out of my seat and ran to my mom’s car. The red Datsun was exchanged for a two toned white and blue, Cadillac Seville, with navy blue leather interior. However, dad still kept a dodge van, but it too was traded in for a two-toned blue family van with seatbelts. No more having to hold on to the back of dad’s chair any longer. Mom feeling “posh”, looked a skoosh like Cruella, minus the white streaks, plus a gaining velocity of mean streaks. I had, had a good day and was excited to go home. Mom said, “do you have any homework?” One of us, said we had a paper due, and to my recall, likely me. I was forthcoming and have always been to a fault.

“From the very beginning I’ve always made a statement. Not everyone appreciated that, but I wasn’t for everyone.” ~ Cruella

‘Cos I know what it means; Mom, talked like a doctor, and secretly wanted to be in the “noble” profession. In fact, she had a very colorful and lively background, that she stated with certainty was “gospel”, that was factually, unequivocally, “mostly”, “made-up”. Expert fabricator, seamstress, and crafty like a hawk. She said she had a master’s degree in Psychology and her major focus (dissertation), was on a newly founded “syndrome”, called Munchhausen by Proxy.

“The Hippocratic Oath is an oath of ethics historically taken by physicians. It is one of the most widely known of Greek medical texts. In its original form, it requires a new physician to swear, by a number of healing gods, to uphold specific ethical standards. The oath is the earliest expression of medical ethics in the Western world, establishing several principles of medical ethics which remain of paramount significance today. These include the principles of medical confidentiality and non-maleficence. As the seminal articulation of certain principles that continue to guide and inform medical practice, the ancient text is of more than historic and symbolic value. It is enshrined in the legal statutes of various jurisdictions, such that violations of the oath may carry criminal or other liability beyond the oath’s symbolic nature.” (Source Wikipedia)

On the 45 minutes plus drive home, she explained the difference between “regular” Munchhausen and Munchhausen by Proxy. One is with the “use” of children, i.e., “proxy”. Essentially, both syndromes, are seeking medical attention at, exorbitant measures, absurd means; for a farcical, obnoxious, distasteful, likely illegal amount of attention. A bottomless pit is how I am able to define the wants and desires being insatiable and unfulfilled.

“Munchausen’s was originally named after Baron von Munchausen. This officer was well known by the Germans during the 18th century for his ability to embellish his life experiences. Considering that the disease is in fact a factitious disorder where a patient believes that they are severely ill, the name is quite fitting.” (Source
“There are many famous cases of Munchausen syndrome and by proxy. Perhaps the most publicized recent case is that of Dee Dee Blanchard. Blanchard kept her daughter Gypsy in a wheelchair throughout her life.”

There was never enough, and I could never do enough; to placate, satisfy, bandage, or meet outlandish, fiendish, and diabolical expectations from the family relationships and dynamics. Que the dramatic baritone and all hail the Phantom of the Opera, a deformed conjurer also called the Angel of Music. We’re almost home and I better get that “homework” done.

[Verse 3] Iron Maiden
“I’m running and hiding in my dreams, you’re always there
You’re the Phantom of the Opera
You’re the devil, you’re just out to scare
You damaged my mind and my soul, it just floats through the air
You haunt me, you taunt me
You torture me back at your lair”

The phone was already ringing, as we just arrived in. Everyone would go their own way, while my sister would plow through anyone who interfered with her answering, Gonzo’s call. My dad hated Gonzo, and mainly because he was of Mexican descent. Also here, my first introduction to racism. My parents forbid the relationship, really only friendship Coco had and sent my sister to live with my Gram, just to figure “things” out. That was “code”, for strategizing and calculating, maniacally; time, energy, and places to “situate” her.

“Mexican Americans (Spanish: mexicano-estadounidenses, mexico-americanos, or estadounidenses de origen mexicano) are Americans of Mexican heritage. In 2019, Mexican Americans comprised 11.3% of the US population and 61.5% of all Latino Americans. In 2019, 71% of Mexican Americans were born in the United States, though they make up 53% of the total population of foreign-born Latino Americans and 25% of the total foreign-born population.”
“In 1846, the United States invaded and conquered California, then part of the Republic of Mexico. This event, one aspect of the 1846-1848 U.S.-Mexican War, led to U.S. annexation of California through the 1848 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Mexican American history in California had begun.
But if the Mexican American era in California was new, the roots of the Chicano experience stretched back some three centuries to 1519 when Spaniards and their Indian allies carried out the conquest of the Aztec Empire in central Mexico and established what they called “New Spain.” Exploration and colonization spread from Mexico City in all directions. This eventually included settlements throughout the northern frontier in the areas now occupied by the states of Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and of course, California.” (Source, and Wikipedia)

Meanwhile, my sister found companionship, right under my Gram’s (ski slope, mom’s description) nose. She 15 and the soon to be father of 3, in the not so far off, nearer future; my niece and a set of boy twins, was a 23-year-old young man, whose brain hadn’t sealed all the way up yet. He rode a bike, stayed at his mom’s and had no school, or job. Not an ideal mate pictured for Coco’s lofty future plans. Nonetheless, Coco had run away with a man 8 years older, tats, and a rat on his shoulder.

“The term “zodiac” ultimately derives from an Ancient Greek term referring to a “circle of little animals”.” “The Rat (鼠) is the first of the repeating 12-year cycle of animals which appear in the Chinese zodiac, constituting part of the Chinese calendar system (with similar systems in use elsewhere). “In Chinese tradition, the first year was the equivalent of 2637 BCE (although others give other dates). The Prime Minister of the first emperor, Huangdi (also known as the Yellow Emperor) is said in this year to have worked out the sixty-year zodiacal cycle.” (Source Wikipedia, ancient glorious history, wisdom, and a millennium or more walking on stardust)

To walk along the lonely street of dreams and the lights went down on Broadway. Past downtown and another hour and 45 minutes out, was a mental facility in Stockton, California. Supposed to be considered “the best” in Northern California, but who and what is there to compare, when you are just a teenager. Coco was institutionalized and a large woman came out to the vehicle and grabbed Coco’s arms, wrestling her in a restraining maneuver. She said to Coco, “you are coming with me.” Coco screamed for help and was quickly taken away. Another “member/patient” during family visiting hours, jumped up on a table and started singing to me, “Good night sweetheart, when it’s time to go”.

“In healthcare in California, only a General Acute Care Hospital (GACH) or Acute Psychiatric Hospital (APH), as licensed by the California Department of Public Health (CDPH) can refer to themselves as a “Hospital.” As of 2018, the CPHD Center for Health Care Quality Cal Health Find database reports 422 General Acute Care Hospitals statewide, as well as 128 Acute Psychiatric Care.”

An’ here I go again on my own, Coco had accused my father and mother of some chilling accusations and had her husband to be, “break” her out of this “locked down tight” facility. She just walked out the kitchen exit and burned some rubber, like the duchess of hazards, that she was. Chaos up roared and a “frenzy” ensued; the “patients” went “bananas”. Coco had taken some of their things upon dramatic exit.

“Cooter Davenport: Breaker One, Breaker One, I might be crazy, but I ain’t dumb! Craaazy Cooter comin’ at ya! Ya’ll out there on the Hazzard net?”

Mom had me drive down to a motel under the freeway, sketchy as they come. Blatant prostitution and evident drug dealers, my mother passed through to Coco’s new abode/residence. I waited out in the car with the doors locked. She had emancipation papers for Coco to sign. Not sure how legal anything like that was. And poof, Coco was gone, but not forgotten.

Every year an estimated 21 million girls between 15-19 years young, become pregnant. 12 million approximately carry the pregnancies to “full term”. Most are victims of abuse and statistically speaking the odds of ever having a normal life, plummeting and devastatingly life-alteringly, low. Complications during pregnancy and childbirth are the leading cause of death for 15-to-19-year old’s worldwide, globally.

Of the 5.9 million abortions each year, 3.9 million are unsafe. Contributing to maternal mortality, morbidity, and lifelong health problems, afflictions, and “disorders”. Not to mention the offspring, year after year. Please, tell me, where do we go from here?

How can we as a conscionable society continue to watch these numbers rise? How can we expect to have a good safe world, if we’ll only continue to condemn, punish, trivialize, ignore, isolate, and abuse these women and children? When will equality be “heard”? How can we help?

Coco was diagnosed, more by my mother than any medical professional, a sociopath. She was exiled and “disowned”, from that moment on. A reminder, and a threat loomed over the rest of us, not to go against the powers of be. Likely, more psychopathic than a sociopath, for Coco had demonstrated emotions and feelings, rather at someone else’s expense.

Her tendencies venomous and violent. She lacked empathy and compassion. I am not a doctor, even though I was surrounded by “wannabes”, and there’s no way to label what was or what could have been. I can only surmise, that the family unit imploded and thusly left fractured unhealthy ties that bound us together, like the hairspray scrunched to Coco’s permed coif.

Now you ask, “how many psychopaths’ and sociopaths are there?” The National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) says, “4% of the population.” Almost 40 million in California as of 2018. I telepathically can answer your next question, and yes that’s a big number, just in the golden state.

Sitting in county jails are estimated 72,000 within the last two years. The prison population has tripled since 1985, “hovering” over 115,000 incarcerated inmates. “Just below the Supreme Court mandated target of 137% of design capacity, the number of prisoners the system was built to house.” “However, 13 of the 35 state-owned facilities individually operate beyond that capacity.”

The numbers don’t lie and in prisons alone, the numbers for psychopathy are “through the roof”. Violent crimes, organized crimes, reoffences, predatory behavior, terrorists, and sexual crimes, all have a staggering component in common. I guess, “it takes one, to know one.”

I’m just another heart in need of rescue and it was love at first sight, when I held my baby niece. She was so tiny and so pretty. Early into her life, my father asked me to join him on a recon mission. My niece was in trouble, and we needed to intervene. As my dad and I drove down Folsom Blvd, he told me what “the plan” entailed.

He said how domestic disputes are the most dangerous for police. I was to retrieve my niece at whatever the cost. “Do not be distracted by anyone”, he said, “I will “handle” Coco.” Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw, implanted, singed into my memory; like a branding or slaughtering of an animal.

Waiting on love’s sweet charity was how I saw my beautiful niece, until that day. My father busted through the house like SWAT and went to disable anyone who crossed his path. I heard fighting, scuffling, yelling and screaming. It smelled of chemicals, and filth, and you couldn’t help but gag. It was dark, and musty. I had a hard time getting adjusted but was probably seconds only. I noticed my parents’ “old” coffee table, said to be a wedding gift to them, carved up with FTW initialed on its facial top side. Among other “things” on the table and right next to those carvings, laid a baby with only a diaper on.

No sound came from her, and her eyes were still open, but red crusted rimmed and infected, from endless crying. She didn’t look real. She looked dead! I grabbed her and ran out of this den of horrors as fast as I could go. I ran back to the van without realizing any of my surroundings. Dad was hot on my tail, and we sped off like a “bat out of hell”. We went to the emergency room and my niece, moments from death, still showing no life, had a severe staph infection, due to her diaper never being changed. Malnourished and emaciated, she came home with us, for only a brief spell.

Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known and since that day, Coco has hated me with all her might! I mean hate with a vengeance, served best cold. Started the 30-year cold war. Originally, it was Mom and Dad vs Coco, but now it was Coco vs The World and everyone in it! I was never invited to her three weddings; I’m sure the fourth is already planned and “down the pipe-line”.

I was never invited to the children’s events either. I gave her a car, co-signed apartments, referrals, signed over my paychecks often, groceries, clothes, gifts for her and her precious babies, and hard cash money. In return, she has been my stalker, slanderer, defamer, accuser, provocateur, agitator, gas-lighter, and tormentor. She has accused me of everything and thrown everything at me, plus the “kitchen sink”. All lies!

Coco has stolen my identity, countless times, and has even hired help to aid in her blood thirst. Coco has broken into several homes, phones, answering machines, stolen my valuables, clothes, and medication (even an anti-itch cream). Hacked every social media account, I’ve ever graced or emailed.

Her “claim to fame” is relentless, all encompassing, obsessive, compulsive, detestable, harassment. Swiped my photos and then deleted to never have access again. Anyone, who knows me, has to know the gory details, in which, they can then decide if knowing me is worth, knowing me. Save yourself and save your soul!

The devil’s playbook is quite simple really. Seek and destroy anything and everything a person holds dear. Usually, best to hit hard first, starting with the basic essentials to sustain life. The objective, of course, eventually consuming your soul, most horrifically. But they have to start somewhere, so employment, housing, and mental capabilities are their major attack areas. Friends, family, pets, and places are their cardinal points of invasion, maim and dismemberment, bulldoze, and eventually, blitz. A bombardment of accusations, “aerial” strikes, and finally leading to the barrage of more “weapons”.

Vandalism, theft, maliciousness, violence, and destruction all calling cards. Complete domination over divinization is the ultimate goal. The playbook holds no commandments, but has to adhere to God; so, by all means, “checkmate”, feel free to name drop Him, whenever you need to. The Lord’s Prayer can work miracles and Psalm 23 is your path to the light whenever truly left in the dark. Arm yourself and keep The Word “lit” within your soul. “Stay Woke”! The devil doesn’t like, light or water, we should head for the coast (about a 2 1/2-hour drive from here)!

Take Highway 50, going towards Los Angeles, past Vacaville (Cowtown) and Fairfield (allergy central), you will find Highway 12, Napa. Off the right-hand exit, and about another hour through Petaluma, you’ll find Washington Street. That’s a good stop for “munchies”, gas, and quick stroll through “old town”. Great murals, music, knick-knacks, and patty “whacks”. Full of spirited history, and old men from the sea, sharing a “whale of some tales”!

Through the small, quaint streets, trees perfectly canopied, comes a clearing. The rolling hills, “alive” with the sound of music and grape vines, as far, as I could see. Cotton candy, puffy, marshmallow looking clouds glided by through the bluest skies. 5-star resorts, bed and breakfasts, and a mansion atop vineyards and vineyards, adorn the landscape. While speeding along, with hopeful excitement, for our arrival and restoration, coastal sized and mesmerized.

Don’t blink, you’ll miss Valley Ford, and the tiny sign that indicates Tomales Bay. Sounds fun and delicious, and is but for this journey, stay right. Just about there. Breathtaking views through the mountains and picturesque valleys, while the temperature drops into the 60’s. Intoxicating fresh air envelops your senses and works wonders for your nasal passages.

Anxiously awaiting our appearance, “Poseidon”, crashes his trident with waves of wisdom onto the rocks below. Here’s a seashell “note”, you can take with you, there’s likely 5 to 10 times more stars than grains of sand on the beaches. This is a good place to mull one’s life over, walk the shoreline, contemplate wishes and dreams, and replenish our thirsty souls.

Until we can realize that we are not the sum of our past, but equal parts and particle components of a mysterious double helix (whom we both share), we are doomed to repeat history. Now, I am aware that throughout time, and in the ancient world there are many tales of sibling rivalry, betrayal, and murder.

How do you “fight” someone (Cain), who won’t “play” on even ground (with Abel)? If I attack back, surely, I hurt her, her children and they are innocents until proven guilty. I’ve spared her at every turn and cheek, and took the long arduous, not sought after, bumpy terrain and plains “higher road”. She’ll never know, because she never cared.

Coco is a grandmother now, and the cycle continues. My only solution is prayer. Since this pandemic, much has occurred in the cold war, but believe you me, the war is still artic, cold and going nowhere. Players have shifted alliances, and the heavenly bodies up above, have some say in this matter. I will leave that to the higher courts and authorities (Archangel Michael). I hope you know a “good” attorney.

I don’t regret what has been done, for my niece is alive today. Although radically “poisoned” against me, her hatred knows no bounds either. What’s done is done, and what will be, will be. The song from sinners and saints, by Whitesnake (Here I Go Again) was playing the night Coco ran away. Same hairdo too boot. I would give anything, to go back in time and try and stop the madness, which was that “runaway train”.

I missed my sister actually, and never wanted any ill to befall her. If anything, I wanted to be best friends, compadres, and maybe even share a business in the future, together. Be the double mint twins. I was on her side, back then, and felt she was poorly treated. I felt her pain physically and emotionally having to watch and eventually endure myself. What Coco doesn’t know, is that I am not her enemy and never have been. I will not be her downfall either. “You live by the sword; you die by the sword.”

An’ I’m gonna hold on For the rest of my days and we have reached our destination, the beach! My secret hideaway. My pocketful of happiness and sunshine. The place to replenish and repair your weary mind, body, and soul. Plenty of vitamins: sea and see! The ocean can wash away a multitude of sins. Play frisbee and catch some “rays”, in that thong, itty bitty polka dot bikini. Sandcastles are my absolute favorite beach art. The best facials are by the sand blasted sea; the worst hairdos are there too!

You’ll find shells, bells, and whistles, along shore. Everything you need and more, the ocean implores. Campfires under the starry nights can ease a worried mind. S’mores with spooky “out at sea” stories, are fuel for the mind’s neurons. With each crackling of the blazing wooden logs; synapses in the brain light fire with fire. You never know what will “wash up” in high tide. Why am I so confident the beach is where it’s at? It’s 100% shore! I will send you, a message in a bottle, with hopes of safe and wonderous travels. Maybe next year, we’ll be sailing. Aloha!

*** Thank you for reading, Here I Go Again! *** This is a disclaimer for anyone who needs one; the story of Coco is based on fiction and for the purpose of aiding our mental health. *** Please enjoy and come back for more stories, haunted history, and Godly messages! ***

Published by SiriusSea

Many moons ago and in a faraway land, I used to write about all things wonderous to the world and I am back to stir the seven seas of wonderment once more. As the storms pass through, I set my compass and my sights upon and beyond Sirius Sea! Welcome aboard!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: