How A Pro Cannabis Non- Alcohol & Caffeine Lifestyle Has Modified My Life For The Better

 Weed, Mary Jane, pot, marijuana.  All these slangs for the cannabis plant have negative connotations.  There's the timely image of the adult loser who can't seem to get off of the couch in their parent's basement to get a job.  There's the hippy 'stone head' who can't remember where he was five minutes ago.  Television commercials, movies and sitcoms paint a picture of 'loserville' going-nowhere-in-life culture when it comes to cannabis consumption.  The idiot, Nancy Reagan's legacy still stains our conscience.  Racism being a primary reason a plant is made illegal over a substance like alcohol which is legal yet ruins far more lives. What if I told you that cannabis has made me a more open minded and critical thinker?  What if I told you that it has cured my annual bouts of eczema which I get each winter from emotional and external stress.  This due to the changes in temperatures.  Eczema is skin issue brought on by an auto-immune disfunction. Would you believe me if I told you that I'm a more forgiving yet lovingly assertive person when I'm called to be?  How would you like to adopt a lifestyle that makes you braver yet more relaxed at the same time? How about being more cheerful and less anxious?  Most everyone, save for a nihilist, would sign up for such a regimen. 

Fifteen years ago I started my journey with this wonderful plant by purchasing hemp milk at Whole Foods.  I could see a positive difference in my physical capabilities with it's promotion of healthy testosterone production and a more relaxed affect.  It was also easy to digest.  When the CBD craze hit almost a decade ago I would buy the topical creams, the gummy's and all other oral forms, not to mention the tinctures. I have even consumed it in cigarette form.  This is important because when it came time to consume THC my body had built up an effective tolerance, even though I had only used CBD.  In November 2020, a dinner guest brought some pot to a business meeting I had at home for my non profit. A day or so prior, I had relayed to him my anxiety due to a court case of mine having been resolved.  He heard the strain in my voice over the phone and stated he had something.  I knew what it probably was.  All I had to aid me up until that time was my Wim Hof Method Program (deep breathing and cold water therapy) and some beer, wine and whiskey on occasion. I took about eight hits.  I'd always heard of folks passing out after a few inhalations.  I was expecting a ride to the moon.  Nothing happened, save for being a little more talkative.  I wondered: 'did I do it right?'  My body told me yes, when I woke up the next morning experiencing 'flu like' symptoms which wore off by 10:00.  Save for a bad trip while taking too much Delta 8 on a canoeing trip by the Georgia state line, I shelved weed and went back to the Wim Hof method and beer.  Reader, never take synthetic anything, including CBD-THC.  It's toxic, harmful and not well researched.  Delta 9 or CBD only is the only option if you decide to take it on.

This past November comes around and I feel a sense that I wanted to permanently eschew all types of alcohol for my physical and spiritual health. I had seen the lives it had destroyed all of these years.  I witnessed how it had embarrassed and emasculated so many.  I saw the thousands of dollars lost in legal fees it produced in those arrested. I wanted to refine my longevity, emotional health program even more.  Two years ago I had adopted a schedule of only drinking in odd numbered months and going dry during the even ones.  That paradigm worked well but I wanted to push it further.  I hated the way alcohol metabolized while I was sleeping, waking me up at night with a sugar rush.  I also felt like caffeine was not helping matters either.  I put out chocolate, sodas and my beloved sweet tea.  I only started to purchase organic sodas that contained natural cane sugar, sans the caffeine. I bought Delta 9 rock candy with caffeine at a hemp dispensary and hated the effects it took on my body.  I surmised it would have been a wonderful product had it not had caffeine.  THC and caffeine, two diametrically opposing substances that could reek disaster on a liver, I could do without. 

Earlier this month I went back to the same dispensary and asked if they had Delta 9 THC without any stimulants to offset the zen effect, while making my nervous system flutter.  They did and I bought a bottle of 25 gummies (10 milligrams of THC in each tablet). What ensued in the days afterward was one of the most validating experiences of my life.  Read my schedule carefully:

(1)  At around 2:00 on the second Saturday in December I started my biweekly Wim Hof Method.  This involved 2 minutes of deep breathing from the stomach to the mouth (you can either stand, sit or lie on your back).  At the 2:00 minute mark, I exhaled and held my breath for one solid minute.  I inhaled and held that for :30 seconds. I repeated this cycle once more.

(2) At around 2:30 I walked into a local river (Coosa River) from a beach and submerged myself in 45-50 degree water for about 2-5 minutes.

(3) At 2:45 I arrived at the local YMCA and took a sauna for about :30.

KEY - While in route to my river wash I consumer 5 milligrams of CBD laced with Delta 9 THC.  I placed it under my tongue for 10 seconds, chewed it and swallowed it.

When I arrived home at 3:30 it was the most euphoric effect I'd ever felt.  This over any food or sexual activity I'd experienced.  In the following days I was more focused, at peace and discovered that my mind had been open to a point where I was discovering I was able to come to more options in daily problem solving dynamics.  I felt a bit like Bradley Cooper in that movie Limitless. 

Reader, it was then I knew that I had missed something all these years. I was then I knew I did not ever want to consume alcohol or caffeine ever again. It was then I knew what I could do to make myself the perpetual better man.  Deep breathing and cold water work great without cannabis.  Cannabis works alright without Wim Hof. You are missing out on a life altering lifestyle if you do one without the other.  THC is not necessary for your cannabis based lifestyle. As a matter of fact you can get by with THC less cannabis.  Yet, it is my discovery that the THC makes the zen effect more pronounced. There are negatives such as the proverbial hunger, 'munchie' effect, creepy headspace feeling and dry mouth.  But, these can be offset by starting out with really low doses and graduating up.  I recommend taking it before bed so while asleep you don't have to experience all the weird side effects.  As my Christmas gift to you I highly recommend a deep breathing, cold water and pro cannabis lifestyle. I recommend deep breathing, cold water at least twice per week. with cannabis added to it every other week.  10-15 milligrams total (any way you want) by the end of each alternating week.  I take my cannabis at the start of the week, Sundays one full 'cigarello' or (1/4 or 1/2 gummy) and remainder of gummy on say a Wednesday, so the effects can go a full week.  Add in acupuncture, (Dr. Will Stewart) Frost & Stewart Chiropractors yoga, massages, bar therapy (I suggest Jennifer at Stewart & Frost Chiropractors)  Delete sugar from your diet if you can. You will love more deeply and have an amazing cerebral potency while being able to handle your emotions better. Keep in mind all good things must come in moderation.  Cannabis is potent and it can knock you out if you don't have the right tolerance for it.  Start off small with no more than 5 milligrams or smoke it a few times to build up resistance.  Orally, it can stay in your system longer and have a more sedative effect you may not be ready for.....................................................

Scientific results witnessed between alcohol and cannabis:  In October I was watching television on a Friday night while having a couple of beers and a shot of my once beloved Fire Ball Whiskey, I have each fall.  Having my beer with salt I noticed a fibrous growth developing in my right lower gums.  I've had them removed before through oral surgeons.  In December that same fibrous lesion produced by the October alcohol drink started to melt back into my gums when I started using CBD, THC. Now, it is almost non existent.  IMPORTANT -cannabis aides in combating INFLAMMATION!  ALCOHOL EXACERBATES IT!

PLEASE never ever abuse any substance but manage it to your benefit only.

Merry Christmas as this health inducing, emotionally tranquilizing, critical thinking gift of the sublime I present to you all - John

# meditation  # deep breathing # Wim Hof  # Cannabis # Cold water therapy # acupuncture # yoga

Orbs

 It’s the last day of it all

September, this 30th day

Is all to me at least 

If it can’t be-my last wearied breathed

Fervid day alive 

1 million breaths from now

In 

Heaven’s gate illuminating stands

So many Septembers, Octobers from now

Proclaim it from any solitude, pillowed bed

The radiating light burning out orbs of sin

Shortcomings, pains-sufferings 

Christ’s embrace shakes my soul 

Quaking, tempting-tear stained 

spasmodic body filled 

‘Till I reach His embrace 

Many Septembers from now

Back To You

The fever of her is breaking into the fountain respite of you..... back to you where it all began..... a beginning anew.....

 *Piece about realizing time will take away even the strongest of feelings for a lover if fate has it not meant to be. The writer is surprised by the newness of his feelings and their power to wash away another who was seen as for a lifetime and invincible to rivals. J.C.B. November 1st, 2020

Assertiveness & Society At Large - Rejecting The Role Bad Script 'Writers' Want You To Play

A really big idiot, had to be one to pull what they did on June 12th of this year. Someone with no sense of judgement had to call pool management on someone's privacy. Someone's privacy invaded over a mundane activity. A really big moron had to call management with only about five other people using the facility, where she could have been caught doing it. On Saturday, June 12th a woman named Claire, who happened to live across the street from my parents, of all people, initiated my first 'KAREN' experience of the year. My first since 2019.

The Gadsden Country Club had been a generational (at least four) paradigm for my family.  After a little consideration I figured a monthly fee would be equivalent to a t.v. channel subscription.  I could forego getting jipped by Comcast or Direct T.V., by spending my money adding: a sauna, a pool, and a men's locker room with four televisions.  A 'no loose' trade off in my mind.  What I didn't know was that I'd be signing up for a grand sociological science project and extreme personal growth, just two months after my April initiation.  This was the first time I'd been a member on my own and not through my parents as I'd been as a kid.  My money was paying for a real life, real time classroom.

Saturday, June 12th, was a good afternoon for me to wash myself clean from the sticky moisture I'd accumulated while hiking on a bucolic nature trail in Livingston, AL.  The University of West Alabama offers one of the most magnificent in the state.  Back home I debated whether or not I wanted to cool off at the country club pool.  The pool itself, being lukewarm and most likely full of urine from children and drunk adults, was not to my liking.  One magnificent dynamic about the Gadsden Country Club is that it's built on a natural spring.  One that invigorates the pool at times and nourishes a sprinkler pad for children and adults who want cold water on a scorching Alabama day.  My logic was I could get in the shower at home, it'd be more convenient.  Yet, I'd figured the grime I'd gotten required a strong cold, pure spring bathing.  So, I grabbed a bar of organic, Dr. Squatch, soap and made my way to the club.

Walking into the foyer at the pool members were required to sign in to confirm membership status.  It was an amazingly quiet day as only 5 adults and 2 children were cooling off.  Odd for early summer.  Weeks prior I'd seen as many as 150 people.  Adjacent to the glorious, spring water splash pad were Claire, may parent's neighbor, and the principal of a local elementary school called Eura Brown.  I walked past them, got my bar of soap and let the cold purity of one of the state's most amazing springs wash off the subtropical grit of Western Alabama.  Drying off I walked back out toward the foyer and was stopped by a lifeguard.  She told me to wait on the general manager as they 'wanted to talk to me.'  Knowing the snobbish, faux, proper culture of any country club; I knew what the discussion would probably be about. Of course, what I did not consider was that it could have legally been technically illegal to be detained from anyone but a police officer.  Already getting 'worked up' it slipped my mind.  A slobbish man in his mid twenties named Mike approached me with a c.b. radio in his hand and a power hungry rent- a - cop vibe to go with it.  He was formally the club's head chef who's been given the general manager's job as a fill in while the club was looking for someone more permanent. The situation was already showing itself to be over his capabilities. Someone had called in a complain about my use of the sprinkler pad.  Of course I had on a bathing suite and was not naked in a public, private setting in case your were wondering. 

After arguing back and forth, I offered the suggestion we find the complaining party and discuss the matter with them.  The GM declined.  I knew I'd be much less resentful to the world around me if I was able to shift the locus of control internally instead of externally.  It was time to discuss the matter with the complaining party head on to hold accountable their malicious, petty intrusion of my privacy for their lame entertainment to assuage their insecurities.  During my back and forth with Mike, I noticed Claire and the elementary school principal looking in our direction laughing, goading each other physically as if they were playing some joke.  It did not register at the time.  With only a few people present, I knew I could find and hold the instigating party accountable by simply walking up to everyone and asking who made the call?  Not many people in today's society would go full 'Clint Eastwood' on a KAREN.  I knew bullies would fall apart and reveal themselves if they were squeezed hard enough.  I was correct and lucky.  The first party I approached, the two women who were laughing at the GM and I while we talked, were revealed to be behind the KAREN phone call to management.  "Someone called country club management on me. I was trying to determine who it was."  Claire, my parent's neighbor, visibly unnerved, yet with a smug expression spoke up:  "You're not a member,  but your dad is though." You should only take showers in the men's restroom.  In her conceit, she did not know there were no showers in the men's restroom.  She also did not know, I was in fact a member. As if it were any of her business anyway.  In those few seconds it occurred to me I was having a conversation with an individual so entitled she felt like:

* It was her job to keep tabs on knowing who in my family were members of the local country club or not.

*It was a duty of hers to tell me where I could use facilities and how I could use em.'

*It was her obligation to weaponize staff against me as a way of disciplining me out of her own amusement and insecurities.

Of course she was too cowardly to confront me in person. In a moment's time all of these dynamics gelled.  Reader, I wish I could tell you I handled the matter tactfully.  In a way I fell apart like she did.  I used language and personally critiqued her in ways that were crude and vindictive.  My voice pitch was far louder than was civil and respectful.  In short I lost my crap!  No doubt, she should've been confronted, just not in such a guttural way.  By now the general manager was helplessly watching the situation go down the tubes like his chances of getting the job permanently were.  Some shouting ensued and about six people; Claire, the principal, her spouse, a life guard and a drunken, white trash, visitor wanting in on the conflict followed me to my car in the parking lot.  Jerry Springer would've been so proud. The confrontation finally ended when I got into my car and drove home.  Oh, so is life in small city Alabama. Where everyone either knows everyone's business or believes it's their right to.  Their bad judgment was out.  My bad judgement was out.   In July, it was up to the club's board to discuss the incident.  Discipline was uneven as I took the blame for much of the conflict.  I was required to terminate my membership, even after my father, who was a 60 year member and stock holder testified of the real facts of what happened.  Mike, the rent -a cop- general manager, had given some false testimony against me as had the opposing members of the conflict.  My father had to clarify the truth in the July board meeting.  Months before, a family friend got into a fist fight with another member over a card game.  Of course he was only suspended for a month.  Reader, when it comes to private clubs, rules and discipline can always be political and arbitrary. 

So what really happened?  How did such an event shed light on the notion of false Southern chivalry. What did it show about how people, who have a healthy amount of self respect and inner locus of control, are perceived by others not as self - actualized...........................................my opponents, the bystanders and the club's board had a role for me to play that day and during the weeks afterward.  The role of the 'disciplined, humiliated and defeated. While they played the winner and the conqueror.  They wanted the puppy dog, that would be disciplined.  Would whimper, tuck it's tail and slink off.  Instead, they got the Wolf and lost their junk as they couldn't handle the situation.  They expected me to be illegally detained and humiliated by the staff they weaponized against me. They expected me to be voiceless and compliant for the next time I used the facility.  The board wanted to play the chivalrous role of protecting the false construct of white, southern femininity. A mode of thinking which has gotten so many people of color arrested or killed needlessly. A mode of consideration that leaves women in the South feeling incapable of doing anything fantastic while absolving them of any responsibility if they do anything malignant. 

One day after I was forced to terminate my membership, I doxed the instigating party on a public site, since the club never really held them accountable as far as discipline.  The board members went nuts and requested me to take down my review identifying the woman who started the whole incident.  How entitled and cowardly can people be?  Ironically, no one seemed to have a problem with the opposing party reporting the incident on social media or through gossip laden phone calls hours after it took place.  People in my family where informed by a guy in my church named Bo.  Of course Bo, never took the time to tell me directly.  He had to spread it through the grapevine of other family members.

The first Saturday in August had me checking my emails while sitting in Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, CA. while awaiting flight to Dallas/Ft. Worth International.  One came up from the Gadsden Country Club with a monthly billing statement.  THE NERVE! Had these jerk-offs not known I was no longer a member?  It was amusing how gossip could spread about the wrong way. I had done enough to get people to want me to forfeit my membership.  I guess that gossip fell short when it came time to collect bills.  Feeling some new found energy I considered jogging all the way to Texas, grabbing a beer at DFW and then jogging the rest of the way back home to Alabama. Days later back in Alabama 'rent - a-cop' manager, Mike, tried to get me to pay a trumped up false balance of $300 + on my way out the door.  With a stern response he was informed never to address me on the matter again.  I have not heard from him since! 

During October my parents in protest also resigned their membership from the 'Club.  A place that was in our family for four generations. A place where my father had proposed marriage to my mother.  I place where my brother and I and our friends had countless childhood memories.  A place where my late grandfather was once the president. A place that will always be in my heart no matter what a few bad apples did.  A place that taught me the most amazing lesson on June 12th, 2021. That being, there is absolutely nothing more valuable than standing your ground and believing in yourself when you feel you are correct.  Yet, owning up to your mistakes when you make them. That there are 'bad script writers' out there who have a role they want you to play and you need to be savage and rewrite that script as soon as they want you to read it. 

*PROLOGUE:

My account of the incident is still in public forum. In mid October 2021, a board member named Roger, an accoutant in town, attempted to hide from me when I tried to speak to him at his office in person, after the board sent me a threatening letter concerning legal action if I ever found myself on Club property.   They send me certified mail trying to force me to read their threat. I acted like I didn't review it and took the letter to the board member's office mentioned above.   When I asked to speak to him he would not come out and address me.    Under the impression I did not read it, he forced Mike to send me an e-mail.  I replied sarcastically.  Of course in the letter were instructions to go to Mike, the interim GM and not face them directly for any dispute of its contents. In mid November I saw where someone had complained enough to get Google to remove my public review.  Of course I put it back up a week or so after the fact. The story is more bizarre when filling in periphery accounts. Claire's mother, Janice, stalked me in her car on a dead end road on Country Club Mt. the July after the incident. I identified her by reviewing facebook photos of her's on her daughter's Facebook page. Also, a stroke of luck caused me to run across the car she burrowed to follow me sitting in her driveway around New Year's Day. About the time of the stalking incident on Mistletoe Hollow, a neigbor of Janice's named Nanda, a self promoting and socially awkward hotel owner in Gadsden, sent a friend request on Facebook. I hardly ever get them and was suspicious from the outset. Acting strangly she gave off a vibe that made me more suspicious. In December I asked her if she knew of the stalking incident that happened on Country Club Mt. She quickly defriended me and I blocked her. Putting things together she had a close friend or either family member who had the same surname who lived on the street where I was stalked by Claire's mother. Reviewing the facts, I realized Claire's mother had more than likely gotten word out about my tiff with her daughter in June. Nanda, her neighbor, had placed it on herself to monitor me on Facebook. A network of phone calls between Janice, Nanda and the friend of Nanda's who lived on Mistletoe Hollow, got Janice to locate me while walking my dog weeks after the pool incident. Only in February after I visited Janice's husband at his office, did things finally settle down. Of course he did not come out of his office to face me as Roger had not. I had to leave photo evidence with him locating the streets in which she followed me for 10 minutes. I always hoped Nanda, was not a board member as well. She had a track record of being on several boards across town. I began to wonder if she was on the Country Club's board as well. My parent's neighbor, Claire, mostly sits at home on top of the hill facing my parent's front door hardly having any visitors. I lost some things, yet feel like I won the war.  Reader, there will be times in life where you will have a choice about your role in the grand play of life.  Make sure it's compassionate but also savage when needed. 

J.C.B. 

My Boy Tom

 Ole friend we made it through scorch time

As I see ours made it out of the North Tower that fateful day

As Christmas lights three months to come

Sparkle bright crimson apples

Tis the harvest sublime, is fall's cheer, a time being the best of the year

No such holiday really claimed 'till 2001

Eleventh sun oh fervid sphere

Which warms us both the same

Summer's torcher's behind

Forward into weakened warmth shuffles time

'Love of  A Lifetime' plays out of the radio into the shrubs

How sublime can Firehouse make such an endeavor

A cacophony of whims, swim in 

Our plans of recapturing youth

All in September embrace - A harbinger of heaven's as well

Amongst us Christ may dwell

Ole friend, I see ours made it out of the North Tower that day

He'll pull up soon to have a harvest ale, the memories we'll tell.

*September is a month of deep contemplation for me.  The month always reminds me of the song Love of A Lifetime by 80's metal band Firehouse. I also think of a gentleman in my church named Tom.  Tom is the most Semitic looking gentile in my hometown.  As a matter of fact he looks just like one of those Jewish bankers who was seen exiting the World Trade Center before it collapsed on September 11th, 2001.  Tom reminds me of that fateful day and of the month of September in general based off of his physical appearance.  I was doing yard work on Monday and my mind wondered as people's do during such a mundane activity. I extrapolated my perspective on Tom and the month of September into a scenario where I was working in my yard and Tom drove up to catch up with me.  What if we had gotten into a discussion about a mutual friend who was pulling up in a second to have a beer with us in my front yard.  That imaginary friend had been an actually 9/11 survivor and we were to celebrate his life in my front yard with old stories about younger days and to catch up with what we did through the heat of another Alabama summer.  In actuality, Tom and I are fortunate in that we do not personally know anyone to have perished or even lived through the traumatic events of that day. September is a time of introspection much like the month preceding it is.  A time to look back on what took place during the frantic pace of summer.  A time when a year passes into senior status knowing it will die into a new one in December. A month of fading light and fading heat. A barely month to celebrate good drink with friends. A time to remember those lost and to celebrate those who were preserved on 9/11/2001.

Written: August 30th 2021

Published: September 3rd 2021

J.C.B.

Razor

A clogged commode, scented Cuban cologne

I grab my luggage, overheard Caribbean languages over the PA

In fading light of dying summer, oh pathetic late, transient temple of fleeting warmth

I think of that July in '99 you want me back but don't love me

You're heated orange in pretense

You cocaine crap house

Your Biscayne cigar boats.........

Razor blade cut through the blooming night

Lil' Havanna, Liberty City, Coconut Grove - I claim your hippies, I once saw Madonna there

Down to the Keys...... out to the swamp.......your bellowing green mosquito'd embers sting.

I'm not listening you 'Bastard City' - You can't have me back

I'm facing west - San Francisco way

I'm not listening - to your 'Magic City' glistening

Tis' not enough for Haight Ashbury's sway.

Restoration

It was November - the hell of angst

Teenaged spirited, unrequited love

It was 1994 - a full day's education weary road to Birmingham

In fading light I looked west.

Belinda Carlisle's 'Leave a Light On' caressed the tragedy of the trauma- that adolescent murmur

Of better wants, I-59 was slanted - Northwest

Damn, I know it - I care if you don't

I could see Coit Tower, 

The whistle hollowed chimed Jerry Rice, The 9'rs just won another title.

You red city - you demonic city.

You sexual, you artistic colonizing of colonies....dusty western colonies

My Judeo, Christian persuasions prompt me to hate you

Marrying me to Nashville, Miami, Dallas....... oh, lifeless gallery on the edge of nothings

I want everything, you're on the edge of everything

You bizarre sidewinder of western restoration, save me in one embrace

Take away Florida, humiliate Alabama

Mock the stoic, stupid hypocrisy - of 'dixieland' banal conservative thought

Oh coffin land of the unitiated, untalented

Freeze Miami - spurious blistered - orange sliced - white lined sunken backwater

With your Pacific chilled, Mark Twain' testified breeze - opiate communal delight

Protect me from all that's east - surprisingly, sinister east

Humid piss pool of drooling - languished puddles of tradition melting

as ice cream left over in false religioned tent revival seats- no one here approves of you

Save for the truest, journalist in me

Oh, Golden Gate - I'm the lover you've found - In a North Beach's sunset tranquility.

J.C.B.

8/28/2021

Slag Whistle (Noccalula Mountain Lullaby)

Tracks vibrate 

Humming rhythm

Pumping Alabama City

Fleetwood Mac's Little Lies plays tuned.

They say there's Satan worshipers up

on the hill

Ole Tabor Road

Where witches once shrilled

Philip almost threw up

exhausted, child like exertion

The city swim meet up at Scenic will do that

El Debarge's Who's Holding Donna Now

Hums like the train track in Alabama City below

On demon's mountain mist

On witches mountain mist

I was listening to some old songs from the 1980's that reminded me of the other side of town.  Late summer always purveyed the 'City Swim Meet' before we all headed back to school.  My brother and I lived and swam competitively in the more affluent part of town at the local country club. Our neighborhood was called 'Country Club Mountain and Clubview. We'd swim for the country club against a club called Wild Haven, The Gadsden YMCA (ironically my brother and I swam for the Y during the winter months) and The Scenic Highland Swim Club at that City Swim Meet.  Scenic represented the rough and tumble Lookout Mountain community of Noccalula Falls.  That community always mesmerized me.  Gadsden sits in a valley between our neighborhood situated on the Green Mountain chain and it's surrounding hills and my friend Philip's neighborhood -Lookout Mt (foothills or Appalachian Mt. chain).  Philip and I would compare which mountain was taller.  The Lookout Mountain neighborhood kids were our rivals in childhood swim races and then in high school as my neighborhood was zoned for old Gadsden High as they were old Emma Sansom.  My best friend in grammer school, Philip lived up on 'The Mountain.'  There were always tales about Satan worshipers and witches and honestly, some of it was true.  My community was dubbed by experts to have the top three highest incidences of Satanic activity in America.  Regardless, hearing old music brought me back to that simpler time when I swim against Philip and then would go spend the night with him in the fall and watch the 'The Goonies'  The 80's were a magical time artistically.  A time when people still congregated and the world was a more hopeful place.  Even the 'dark side of town' was lovingly seen as ominous yet accommodating.  In that decade even darkness was lighter than it is today.  The yellow and purple graphics is an ode to old Emma Sansom High School. The school zoned for all our Noccalula Mountain rivals. I can't forget El Debarge playing on the radio after an exhausting swim meet leaving Scenic behind.

J.C.B.

 

'Vapored' (Burbank 2021)

Breeze filled spaces

fever, filled face

oven baked heat

dried upon ghostly

whispers from

Universal Studios

dried up as dust

trash, puke, dreams

of Echo Park, Sunset Boulevard

Oh to sit in this haven

Burbank shelter

sweltering sun

seeming animate

impossibly departed all in one

In the stillness of this reclusive respite

Tomorrow's my flight

via Bob Hope Way

Oven valley sun purifies boorishness

A hotel pool cools exhaustion

A City of Angels purveyed. 

 

'Chalk'

A requiem of late summer exhaust

Feeling heat's intensity wane

Signaling a dying seasons autumn into a coming one

Oh, chalky month, as taste

like a piece of 'Mamba' candy

August - you stir my soul - as twilight

Destin, Tuscaloosa sun setting

blue green, sandy horizon pale

lifeless as summer has become

of heaped hills of college chime bells - bellow

a chalky taste to my senses, to my soul is August

dusky saint of languid dreams

J.C.B.

 

A Testimony Of How Health Store Supplement Mixtures Can Lead To A Psychedelic Trip (How I Accidentally Got Stoned On An Alabama Creek)

Most substances abusers, particularly those who are into the 'psychedelics,' would have been really jealous of my experience on May 22, 2021 at about 11:30 a.m. on a kayaking excursion down Cherokee, Co. Alabama's Terrapin Creek.  In the movie, The Wolf Of Wall Street, we get to see Leo's personification of Jordan's Belfort's freak out at the country club. When he takes methaqualone tablets which are 15 years old.  Thinking they are not working he takes more and overdoses. And within 10  seconds from the first onset of symptoms can barely move his body and experiences visual hallucinations with the stairs he had to fall down to get to his car.  In reality he's got six steps to navigate.  In his baked reality, he has about 12.  That 70's Show portrayed a scene where the boys were finally caught smoking dope in their parent's basement by Red Foreman.  When they were called up into the kitchen some of them where having hallucinations of vision. I experienced both of those things on Saturday.  It's NOT FUN!  It's positively mortifying.  

I started intermittent fasting in June of 2019.  I realized the health benefits and love the fact I don't eat breakfast which I've never liked.  That makes sense, due to the fact I hate mornings.  Another thing I hate is drinking water that takes me to the point where I have to go use the restroom out of inconvenience.  I'm use to the heat and frankly, under hydrate a good bit of the time, as unhealthy as that is.  Cortisol, is a stress hormone that increases estrogen, while decreasing testosterone in men. It is bad for health.  Physicians and fitness trainers I trust recommended, Ashwaganda to block Cortisol absorption into the blood stream. Ashwaganda is an Indian herb used a lot in Yoga circles as well.  It is used for relaxation generally and while Yoga practitioners are going through exercise. I took .07 ml the morning before I left for our kayaking excursion on an empty stomach.  I also take CBD intermittently throughout the year.  I have smoked pot before with almost no side effects.  So, when a coworker gave me her Delta - 8 chocolate bar I did not think much of it.  She had been arrested for a DUI and court required her to pee clean.  I was the happy recipient of her lose. Besides, it was legal.  I assumed it was regulated.  When we were put into the water I took about 140 milligrams, giving 10 of the bar to my friend . She made the comment that was all she wanted when I offered more.  I should have read that as a sign.  So, I had an empty stomach and was not properly hydrated.  I chose to lead the pack as a women in our group was assigned the tail.  I started out ahead to captain the course for any rocks or shoals.  For the first hour things were normal as I saw a water snake and chased it up the bank to get a closer look.  About 20 minutes later I started becoming paranoid that every leaf or petal moving on the surface of the water was the tail of a snake.  But, I felt mellow and peaceful.

Sometime between 11:30 and 12:00 I hit a wall.  Just like it did Leo in Wolf  Of Wall Street it hit in about 5 seconds. My hearing became blunted and I became slightly light headed.  A paddler behind me would whistle on occasion.  I could hear his whistle but it sounded like it was coming in a dream, it was muted and sounded distant.  I even started to hear it even when he was not whistling.  I knew I was getting into trouble.  I lead us to a sand bar and told everyone to stop and rest.  I started drinking some tea I got from the friend I gave Delta - 8 to.  I walked around and even got into the water to wake myself up.  I would hear people talking for a second but their conversations would be blunted and I'd have to pick up on someone else's only to lose track of it. I was hearing things muted and in a dream state. It was just like when you where a child and you where with your parents in the living room watching t.v.  It is late at night and you are in the twilight part of pre sleep where your senses go in and out.  I went to the other side of the sand bar and used the restroom hoping that would help.  It did not.  I motioned us back into the water to get moving. I thought I'd eventually get better, but I got more dehydrated and loopy.  For the next two hours I was in this dream state of auditory and visual hallucinations.  Because of the cannabis, my mouth became extremely dry.  I was still hearing the whistling on occasion.  Time was distorted as well as what felt like an hour was probably no more than 10 minutes. I was still in the lead and because of this dynamic not many people realized I was in trouble.  I remember thinking I'm stoned and I'm probably going to be brain damaged for a lifetime.  I remembered praying to God to get me out of this.

My next fear was losing my surroundings to the point where I float down the creek past the point where we are supposed to disembark. I kept turning my kayak around to see where everyone was.  This is when I started realizing my visual hallucinations.  As a paddler only 30 yards away looked like they were 100 yards away.  It was like I was viewing them from a triangled hallway.   I'd pass others not in our group and would ask for water.  My voice must have sounded much weaker than I assumed as they give it out but with a smirk.  I thought to myself, not only am I suffering, but I'm humiliated at the same time.  I finally got enough fluid to start the retching process.  I'd dry heave making this 'ick' sound not being able to throw up.  I sounded like a demented sand crane. Of course the girls who gave me the drink looked at each other and smirked again.  I remember thinking how loud was I?  Or was it all in my head?  My inner dialogue was If I drink this creek water I'll definitely vomit and humiliate myself.  But, my mouth was so dry and I knew the water, having bacteria, would absolutely cause me to retch and get some of the toxins out. I started scooping it with my hands.  A desperate plan I told myself I would not do thirty minutes prior. I remember a woman from our party trying to have simple conversation with me. I remember only answering yes and nodding my head. I was too out of it to have a conversation beyond a sentence.  I remember thinking I bet she thinks I'm rude. I just couldn't respond. It was at this time I started telling people I was in trouble or asking where the take out point was.  We stopped at a second sand bar to rest and take pictures.  By now I could not even lift my arms and could barely crawl out of my boat.  Surprisingly, some in our group still were not aware.  When I was asked to be in some photos but could not maneuver my kayak into the frame people started to know something. I kept saying I'm in trouble, I stated I may need to go to the hospital. We got back into the water and this time everyone followed close behind.  We stopped at a third sand bar and I could hear people talking about calling the paramedics and coming up with a way to get me out of the water even before our 'pick up' point.

It was safe to say I was no longer the captain of the journey.  Heck, I was not even the captain of mine any more.  I remember a guy in our group tying my kayak to his and him rapidly taking the lead and pulling my kayak down creek.  I remember us getting to a forth sand bar as they were trying to get me into a canoe to lie down. I crawled into the canoe. Moving made me nauseous enough to throw up violently about three times.  As humiliating as it was it was God's answer to the prayer I'd prayed earlier. I remember being mad I'd broken my 'puke streak.'  I'd not puked since 2004 and was very proud of the fact.  I sort of passed out afterwards until we got to a take out point, close to the outfitter we'd used but just up river.  I remember barely being able to crawl out of the canoe.  But, I did it as observers on the bank watched me struggle.  I did not care about the public humiliation. I just wanted to feel whole, sane and coherent again. I remember sitting up on the bank as some good ole country boy held me up. I remember him saying I've been in your shoes a time or two before. It made me feel slightly better to hear that. I was coming to quicker now and I could hear the ambulance rumbling up behind me.  They placed a lift under me and put me into the vehicle.  We first rode back to the outfitter's parking lot for me to give my friend my  parent's number to call.  She called and asked what I needed to take with me.  I told her only my phone and my wallet.  My keys where left at the facility.  The ride to the hospital felt like a dream.  In reality it lasted 30-40 minutes.  In my reality it felt like about 5.  Funny, how this time time felt faster and not slower as it had on the water. I remember pulling into the ER parking lot and seeing my parents step out of their car to follow me in.  I wondered whether or not I was imagining it or it was them.  I realized I'm pretty sure it was them.  After being hydrated and having test run it was determined I suffered from dehydration and a potent cock tail that had psychedelic effects. The attending physician told me that since Delta - 8 is a synthetic as it is not highly researched.  He said doctors don't know what it's effects are since it is so new on the market.  I was not able to tell him I'd taken Aswhaganda extract that morning as well thinking it was not germane to the issue.  I told a cousin of mine, a frequent user of Delta - 8, about my episode. He seemed surprised and had never heard of anyone experiencing what I had.  I then realized with the Ashwaganda I must have inadvertently produced a high never done by anyone before.  Some people in the 'stoner' community would call me a pioneer.  Someone to look up to. If any one does, I'll call them a moron.  What I did was toxic, dangerous and could have cost me my mind permanently. I GIVE THIS TESTIMONY AS A WARNING.  IF SOMETHING IS LEGAL IT DOES NOT MEAN IT IS WELL RESEARCHED.  IF YOU TAKE ANY TYPE OF HEALTH SUPPLEMENT MAKE SURE THEY NEVER MIX WITH OTHERS.

j.c.b.

'Proven Tips On How To Crush (Look At Me) Intrusive Culture For The Summer'

 I have two Twitter accounts.  One for attempting to recruit the film industry to my community.  The other is a group of us wacky fans of the Jaws, Jaws II, Jaws III & IV movie series.  We have chosen characters from those movies and amazingly stay in character almost the entire time.  It's great fun to be around others who have a sense of humor and don't take themselves seriously.  Most people like Star Wars.  I left that series behind as a child.  Us Jaws fans are just as serious about our love for our movie and characters.

On my 'Jaws' profile I intentionally set the perspective of my news feed, the know the one you are not given a choice to delete, to Australia so that I'd get to avoid all the banal, idiotic celebrity gossip from America.  It has usually worked.  Just the other day I saw where one singer had just gotten married and some model was having their first child.  Tried as I might, I was confronted with garbage I'd worked so hard to avoid.  Welcome to what I've labeled intrusive TURD culture.  Now, more than ever, we live in times where it is not enough for tabloid publishers, bloggers and news sources just to be read by morons who want their junk.  Now, they want their news to be read by everybody.  Even people, like me, who detest their product, and want nothing to do with it.  They are the proverbial protester at a rally who wants to stick their sign in your face as you happen to walk by. The bottom line..............................as you'd expect- MONEY.  Clicks mean advertisement sales and more for them.  I also surmise it must be an ego thing as well.  What journalist, even if they are yellow, doesn't want their name up in lights?  What owner, or publisher doesn't want to be the 'big dog' on turd street.  Whether it is reality t.v. or Facebook or some politician making an ass of themselves for votes WE HAVE BECOME A 'LOOK AT ME' culture.  People with no skill or training are wanting to get in front of viewers/voters to get attention while attempting to call it art or policy.  People are posting what they think are clever memes on social media to make someone laugh or make someone mad. They just want to tell the world what they think, as if they are  important..............just to get attention.

Back in the early 2000's with the confluence of the internet taking off and a work stoppage for writers and actors in Hollywood, reality t.v. helped fill a void.  Soon enough, social media like MySpace and Facebook and Youtube birthed.  Pretty soon, everyone thought they could become notorious.  Forget the fact that they had no talent or training or commitment to craft. And then before long intrusive, turd    look at me culture came out.  Now, it's not uncommon for reality t.v. 'stars' to be more popular than actual artists. 

Each election cycle we get dumber and dumber, unqualified candidates not only running for office, but actually winning elections.  This should horrifying for people! Yet, it makes perfect sense.......... an idiot electorate will usually lead to an idiot legislator. It's like we vote for the most flamboyant person because we are too lazy and ignorant to do research and vet information out. We want the biggest circus because are lives are too mundane and we strive to entertained. Forget that usually the losing candidate is superior in experience, debate and intelligence. This is a direct result of intrusive turd look at me culture....................................................SO WHAT CAN WE DO PERSONALLY TO SHIFT THE PARADIGM IN OUR OWN LIVES TO LIVE MORE FULFILLED, MEANINGFUL AND PEACEFUL LIVES?

(1)  LIMIT TIME ON THE INTERNET

I can't say this enough.  How often have you been watching your favorite movie only to have to multitask and read e-mail or sports.  There is no good reason to do it.  You just do it.  I do it too.  It's called addiction and it needs to be stopped.  I set my phone in another room and turn it off after 7:00 unless I know someone wants to call or text and has indicated so hours prior. I leave my laptop at work.

(2) AVOID MOST NEWS FEEDS AT ALL COST

Here's the thing about news feeds.  They are usually propaganda backed by ultra wealthy families who want you to see things their way.  They want you to vote for legislatures who pass policy that favors their bottom line AT THE EXPENSE OF YOURS.  Fox News is the perfect example of this.  Even more mainstream broadcasts like CNN and MSNBC are slanting more to a propaganda paradigm instead of just plain journalism.  Broadcasting companies, magazines, advertisers and all media in general don't care whether they cause you to get an eating disorder, a heart attack due to anger, commit a crime out of hate, gain low esteem from comparing your life to someone else or waste your time...................because they don't know you exist individually and they are making money with each click or view.  They care nothing about your wellbeing.  The sooner you realize this the better off you will be.

(3) LIMIT TIME ON SOCIAL MEDIA & AVOID ONLINE MEETUP AND DATING

It still amazes me, and it shouldn't, just how socially inept so many people are in person.  I think it has everything to do with the amount of time we spend cultivating relationships online instead of in person.  I'm like everybody in that I make a comment on something, send a cute message to someone and think I'm having some sort of relationship.  I'm not! And neither are you.  It's partly fantasy and we all need to get out and meet people in person.  I see this in dating so much.  I can remember living in an apartment complex in Birmingham, AL back in 2013.  Myself and some others in the complex would work hard to have tennis and pool socials.  A lot of us guys would hope it would be an avenue to meet some of the single women who lived in our community. We quit doing it because no one would show up. We'd joke and say people are hanging out online instead because they can control their surroundings better.  Sadly, this was probably true.  READER, there are people like that out there.  That being, they are too insecure, selfish to face the world on it's own terms so they hide behind the computer all the time.  Don't spend a lot of time investing in these types of people.  Spend more time with people who are fully self - actualized who see importance in real interaction.

I also limit making comments on anything online such as videos, Facebook posts or articles I've read.  You know how it goes.  You say something, someone disagrees and there you go.  You are off to a wimpy fight where more than likely you never meet each other in person.  I made a comment on a click bait article three years ago.  Someone challenged me on it as the article was linked to Facebook for comments.  I challenged him back.  Our fight/argument started on my laptop at work and went all the way into my car and into my house. Two hours of wasted time had passed. A girl who I was communicating with long distance and who was much younger than me, flatly stated why did you engage him in the first place?  It took someone with a little less life experience to make me realize just how much of a fool I'd been.  He lived in Miami, I live in Alabama I doubt we'll ever meet each other like men. 

MAKE ART.

  I joined Joseph Gordon Levitt's art production company HitRecord.org in 2017. There, you can meet others who are always wanting to post visual, sound, script or literary art and have you work with them.  This is a great way hobnob with a collection of positive people.  You play your cards right you may even get paid and get to work with some people you'd recognize from t.v. or the big screen. Also, for you humor types Adam McKay's and Will Ferrell's funnyordie.com is a decent medium to ply your trade.  Three years ago, it became more celebrity/staff driven and it's harder for community art to be seen.  It is still permitted, though, so give it a shot.  I've had fun producing articles on there and people gave positive feedback.

IF YOU HAVE TO READ/HEAR NEWS GO 'BAREBONES'

We all need some news.  How would we know if certain policies we lobbied for were passed into law?  Stay away from news that tries to evoke emotion or give banal information that adds up to nothing.  Go to sources that only want to report reality that discusses law, art or events that effect your family.  NPR is a good source.   As is PolitiFact.org Annenberg.org (Factcheck.org) 

IMMERSE IN ART

Find a trusted source......please be careful going online........and find someone to write a production together. Write comedy sketches, plays, stories and poetry.  Better yet,  register with a casting agency, if you're near communities where productions are frequent and do back ground work and small role pieces.  Try out for local productions in community theaters.  Help support local theaters:  ticket booth, preparation, advertisement, props and ushering.  Just attend a play in person.  We have also become a culture of emasculated spectators.  GET OFF OF THE SIDELINE AND PRODUCE!

TAKE AN ONLINE CLASS

If you can't stay off of the computer fill the time, you'd be wasting reading drivel and take a class.  I use ed.2.go.com  There are amazing courses I've even found to supplement my Master's of Counseling Education degree I received in '04. I've taken some lately to supplement my life coaching endeavor I'm about to start.  Even if you are not aiming to supplement a degree there are still classes you can take on this site for just self-fulfillment and personal growth.  Through ed.2.go.com your are connected to most any college in America to take your choice course from. Most all colleges are legitimate, state supported universities. Classes are affordable as most are no more than $100 

MAKE A DIFFERENCE

So you are mad about something.  You want to see change.  Spend your time signing petitions, contacting your elected officials, participating in peaceful demonstrations or better yet. running for office.  I've done most all of these before and more than likely will run for office soon.  This beats the hell out of sending off an angry Facebook meme thinking your the junk when only about 5 people have actually viewed it. It's better than getting angry and committing a crime like storming Congress, getting arrested and fretting your life away in prison. People who whine and complain and act bitter tend to not be taken seriously by society.  They are viewed over time as low status people. 

Happy Summer Everyone - See You At The Lake

                       JCB

'Jackleg'

You're out there all around

You put yourself on display with nothing to say

The internet, that bastard endeavor

Hides your true identity 

talentless lack

In that you don't have one

insecure to have anyone else have one to

Plus one, plus two, plus three

you add up to nothing to me, them us

Going places, self-actualizing

A real threat to you

We're here, you're there

a mission to nowhere

A wobbly table about to fall over

A 'jackleg' can't support, prevent a fall.

This is a piece done in an 'Allen Ginsburg' 'Howl  type manner.  I've been researching Allen and an ode to his voice is given in the structure and message. Over the past few years I've come from the perspective that there is a subculture of people who are the bottom feeders of society.  For instance, last summer, I worked with an independent film producer on a script for a horror production only to be written out of the project. The reason being, the producer found out I had a girlfriend at the time and it threatened his personal plan for having me in the project. I  had to find out by accident the project went on without me two months later. I met the producer on a social networking site. I advertised for comedy sketch writers on one of the site's groups for local artists. I should not have ignored the red flag when we met in a Birmingham area establishment and he tried to coerce me into a horror script, even knowing the meeting was for comedy. Other banal happenings take place when I try to get 'indie' projects going off of the same social site. A lot of considerations, then ghosting. Nothing of substance ever getting done. I answer a casting call for a major network the following spring and have a fantastic, validating experience on a legitimate project. It's like the 'cream of the crop' don't need to 'scratch that itch' of validation because they have been successful and notorious before. Everyone on set is enthusiastic and don't act like I'm infringing on their 'art property.' Folks are quick to get me to sign up for other endeavors in the Atlanta metro area.  It's as if everyone wants to share the fun of their accomplishment.  No one is 'catty' and territorial. I'm able to compare and contrast the incidences realizing there is a paradigm of the legitimate vs. the illegitimate in the world.  It has gone on for thousands of years from snake oil sales people to assorted scams to insecure people gossiping about someone else 'in any church U.S.A.'  vs. those who accomplish great things and want others to alongside them. In romance the same thing has been observed for decades.  There is a bastion of insecurity and ineptness in certain strata of society and then there is the validation of hope in discovering the mature, open minded and secure in personal actualization. One thing the author has consistently found is that the 'illegitimate' seems to hang out on networking sites and the computer in general. A place where it is easier to hide their true intentions, they can mask their insecurities and short comings to the world better.  They have been rejected in real time in front of real people and have to escape to the 'unreal.' After some time, I know where the 'Jacklegs' an (Alabama expression) for the weak, the chaff of the world;👎👵🙈 congregate and am in a better position to avoid interaction.  I'm  more quickly able to determine, through discernment, who is a 'jackleg' and who is capable.  I surmise it's a major watershed moment of growth.  Of course, the 'jacklegs' feel threatened by the fact people even observe them as 'jacklegs' and act out.  That is the primary behavioral trait of a weak, incapable person.  To feel threatened by exposure.

J.C.B. 

5/18/2021

When It Comes To Picking The Right Person To Date - Ride With The Tide Of Genetics

 That's right reader! I posted this type of blog title to hook you in. I wanted it to sound slightly inflammatory and racists just to get some eyes.  Now, that you are assured I'm not a neo Nazi or a white supremacist, let's proceed. 

In the sixth grade a girl asked me to our Jr. high school spring dance. It was my first formal dance ever. I was excited, nervous and probably really goofy.  She showed interest in me without me really speaking to her much. Want to know something cool?  We'll I know you're saying probably not, but here goes anyway.   Her mother had dated my father in high school.  Here is what I'm getting at.  That is not accidental.   It seems scientific that who we are sexually attracted to is hard wired into us through our genetics.  I can't prove it, yet I have witnessed it through personal testimony so many times in my life.  Now sure, some of what we seek in a mate is learned behavior. These days that's the problem. Cues from superficial society about what is acceptable and unacceptable.  Yet, I cannot believe it is not mostly natural.  My mom always discussed intelligence as 'Nature vs. Nurture'.  As a teacher, she was always a big believer in a person's success being attributed to their genes.  The older I get the more I believe her.  Our DNA controls so many more things in our lives we could ever consider.

Each time I mistakenly and regretfully get on a dating app, (they are a lesson in aggravation) or log on to Facebook I open my inbox to messages from Hispanic women.  This works well for me because I like them.  I like their passion and charisma.  I like their honesty in emotion. I like their olive complexion, raven hair and coffee colored eyes.  Instead of 'JENNIFER' I get a fantastic opportunity to meet someone of East or Indian Asian descent. On the flip side of that, if I send out a hello to women of Northern European descent who are 'Christian,' church attending and conservative types, I tend to get ignored or a message, I SURE AS HELL HATE READING!  This also tends to happen when I court people off line in everyday life. Try as hard as I might, I just can't get women who are of Northern European descent, educated and come from more well to do Christian families interested in dating me.  I may get one a time or two yet it just does not come easy.  Several of my Caucasian, guy friends don't seem to have this problem.

Like many southern men I was the usual slub in that I saw myself marrying a girl with blue eyes and blond hair and named Jennifer.  There was a time I dated some of that and those types of girls found me attractive.  Back about a decade ago that changed as did my taste.  I tell this wretched, disinteresting story to tell you, reader - this:

 DO YOU WANT TO HAVE AN EASIER TIME IN FINDING ROMANCE RIGHT FOR YOU?

Ride the wave of genetics when it comes to what types of ethnic groups, races, personal physical features etc. tend to give you positive regard in romance compared to the ones who don't.  My squinty 'bed room' eyes (I believe come from the trace amounts of North African DNA I harbor) tend to attract more ethnic minorities than WASP types.  Consider a historical pattern of physically what people look like in regards to liking or disliking what you look like.  Move toward those types of people who have found you sexually attractive in the past.  Ignore and move away from those who have not.  I have an advanced degree in counseling psychology.  I don't have one in sociology.  But, I am confident there is something to my theory here.  Either way, what's the harm in trying it out?  You may be on path to finding the best person for you. Besides, who can say no to a fun science project from time to time? 

Happy Early Valentines

            JCB

       1/11 2021