For Monte: A Spewing Tribute

I don't know why I'm writing this. But I'm going to write it anyway since it should be safe here, all tucked away on my obscure little blog. For those who do read it, let it be known that the man I describe in the following essay is more than what's written. I only know him for what he is to me and nothing more. I write this because he is dying, maybe quicker than some of us. He has end stage cancer and it is most likely the thing that will end his life. But as most of us know there are no guarantees in life or death. I could very well die before Monte.
So I write this to you, Monte, as my tribute, my good bye to you if I shall leave this world before you. If you leave before me, then let it say the same.
I never got to say good bye to my father before he died. He died suddenly of a heart attack at work and that was it. I write this for purely selfish reasons. I write it to you to say what I may have said to my father before he died.
In the end you're not my father, but have come to symbolize something in my life that my father was not. You've given me an outside window to look through at a relationship between a child and father. I see more clearly now from a father's perspective, not only because I'm a father myself, but have learned through the relationship you have with your son and daughters. I've seen the love you had for your children expressed by providing for them, teaching them and disciplining them. These are hard things for a father to do and I know you did not do them alone. Barbara was a significant partner, but you did these things all the same. You are of my father's generation and I see parts of him in you and I love and appreciate those sacrifices he made for me more now than ever.
Thank you for welcoming me into your family and sharing time with me. Whether I or you are the first to shed this grand illusion called life, I wish to say good bye and thank you. If we somehow meet again in some separate reality, I look forward to it.

Some people might describe Monte as eccentric, a scientist, a father, a husband, a grandfather. And he's all those things and more than we'll know. I know Monte as my father in law and I can honestly say I like the guy. Yes, I like my father in law. I might even go as far as to call him my friend. Yes, I will go out on a limb here and call him my friend. I feel comfortable around him in silence. He's easy for me to talk to. I don't feel judged by him...and he has never criticized me to my face.
As far as I know I think he likes me. He's nice to me, he's listens to me, he's generous with me and he's asked me several times to hang out. Just him and I hangin' out like bros looking at flowers in some botanical garden or cookin' a meal. I remember one time he came along with me while I dove for abalone. He offered to stand look out on the beach and point to where my body would most likely be found by authorities if I were to drown. This made perfect sense to us, so off we went to the beach. Maybe he was hoping I'd drown, but I think he was really looking forward to the abalone. He really likes abalone. It's the one thing I can offer Monte that he wants and can't get himself. He knows lots of people and has many resources, so maybe he could get abalone from someone else. In fact I know he can get abalone from other people. His son Eric is one of them.
I like Eric and I married his sister Jen, so that goes without saying that I like her too. There's a third sibling. Her name is Linda and I can hang with her for a short time,  then I need a break. But I like her none the less. It's just that Linda comes with a circus (trust me when I say it's the best circus in town). Don't get me wrong, I love circuses but after a few days...well let's just say I tend to be a loner asshole.
Anyway,  I bring all this up because a man who can raise three children that I like (one of them I love) is alright in my book. Not only are his children likeable, they're smart and good looking too (they got their good looks from their mom by the way). These same children are raising wonderful children themselves. Cedric I haven't met yet, but I look forward to meeting him. And Linda's kids are, as I mentioned, the greatest show in town. I would do anything for any of them. I mean it. That's because they're family. That's the crux of it. They have all become my family. And it started with Monte. You can tell a lot about a man by what kind of children he's raised.
Let me not finish there, because for me what makes Monte interesting is his ability to be just who he is. No bullshit! He'll do and say things in any social settings that some of us might not do. That doesn't stop Monte, because he's not a bullshitter. Watching him in action is pure entertainment. I love to watch the reactions on people's faces when Monte takes food from their plate. And I'm talking about perfect strangers at a party. Now this may seem rude to some of you, but Monte wouldn't have a problem if someone took something off his plate. He's generous that way and his thinking is, 'Why would anyone else mind?'.
His stories are entertaining too. He has many of them and he's happy to share them with you. I like his stories. He's full of scientific facts because he's a scientist. A brilliant one who has made many discoveries in his field of chemistry.
I remember him sharing a story at dinner time with some friends of mine about how they've discovered that human bodies are taking longer to decompose because of all the preservatives in the food we are ingesting. I'm not kidding. It's an interesting fact. Oh! and to see the look on my friends faces was the best part of the dinner. For me it was awesome. I wanted to know more. Please Monte, continue...
I love him for that reason. I'm serious.
Of course all this does not sum up who Monte is. He's a great gardener and knows more about plants than anyone I know. He impressed my son by his ability to throw a perfect spiral over and over again when they played catch with a football. He shoots a great basketball. I watched him lift the end of a heavy planter box with two fingers while I held the other end with all the strength of my whole hand. That was after I shifted the weight from both. That grip was lasting from his days as a farmer and many years gardening.
Monte served his country in the defense industry through his knowledge of chemistry. He exposed himself to radiation and toxic materials while expanding knowledge. And in the end that's what most likely caused his cancer. He is courageous in facing his disease and has never stopped living. He has my admiration, my respect, my friendship.

Knuckled hard and swollen to bony ridges
Split upon the skin that bleeds and cracks
The oil runs waxy now as the combustion of the wicked spews soot and stench
Fight motherfucker, keep punching away till your bruised hands become broken and club like
You're total hate now, spent on an evil
Burnt!

Rantings Of A "Hopeful" Nihilistic Asshole

The scale weighs heavy things of petty, unequal importance while the universe expands to a collapsing spread of unimaginable space
The heart beats trivial rhythms, skips and eventually stops as a pulsar keeps metronome precession beyond measurement
Its lifetime essentially  infinity

Observed, sought after and measured in amounts weighed on scales of illusion
Happiness, a liar, whispers stories of possibility and regrets
Sadness a friend of happiness offers the pages upon which the stories are told
Society, consciousness and the idea of self reads this book of lies
The individual holds this book above her head and shouts, "This is the Truth!"

I see no book, no stories
I see no individual, no boundaries
I see no self, no sadness
I see no more, no less
I see art

I hear no lies, no truths
I hear no screams, no laughs
I hear nothing and silence
I hear music

The difference is everything and nothing at all
The individual is the uncooperative, the lonely one
The connection is the love that ties all together
The great communion of the one
Is, will be and forever

The high noon plasma ball shines through a window somewhere and maybe warms some skin
Brown and smooth, wrapped upon a fertile figure, curved and shaped to infinity
Structural, skeletal movements, mechanically sensuous and alive turns to warm the other side
Breath upon the ear raises hair upon a fleshy landscape of fantasy and heartbreak
Pressed and bare upon the inner thighs now whisper love
Later the fear laden sweat beads off the ribs squeezed cold
All while a sleeping boy dreams of possibility

The wind blows dark and empty through a crack in the door somewhere and maybe lifts some spirit
High and invisible, unwrapped freedom of no form...infinity itself
Colorless and still, yet just alive as that being of warmth and movement
Breathless with no regrets
A dream which requires no sleep

Lost Highway

Tombstones mark the interstate of a lifeless thought
A foreshadowed exit missed and forgotten
Followed by dark , unseen, unlit but there
The illuminated path ahead is a moment and nothing more
There's a passenger , an unfocused being giving directions with disregard
You listen and are at fault
Ignore and you are free, blind to the night and headed toward the horizon
Lost on the highway, alone and  following the now

Ships of Life

Pink blossoms in light, exhaling and showing a color of white
To lungless neighbors bare to the sight
Not naked but armored and ready to fight
A spring of quick
A winters end
The branches are ready, beginning to bend
Leaves unfold a chlorophyll scene and sail in the wind like canvas of green
Stems and masts of rooted ships begin to move in stationary slips
The trip is short, the voyage long
The season is here, and now it's gone

Automatic No More

I look forward to the day when money is no more
For the mail to deliver and the papers keep score
Meaningless doors to open or not
The groceries are empty and I welcome the thought
What things are left all whole and working?
The ones who welcome the beings of choosing?
I hope to trample the humans of doing, and all the banks will fall to the floor
I see forward to automatic no more