At the Health Fair

I go to a health fair with KC.  KC’s triglicerides are incredibly high.. like 493.   Mine weren’t too bad.  We got a massage,  talked to the health care workers. KC had seen the flyer at the library.  In the inner city it pays to be alert for opportunity.

KC is having real problems.  Her leg turned purple.  It was PURPLE purple..like painted purple! This was vascularitis or something.. her veins.  She was in the hospital 4 days ago.  She also has Lupus, which Autoimmune.  They did tests at Truman, taking 28 vials of blood.

My sister recovering from huge hernia surgery, that had to do with her previous surgery for her pancreas.  She nearly died of pancreatitis.  What did she do to deserve this?  I would not wish these health problems on the worst person in the world.

The health problems are like this slow sort of .. strangulation.

We get a big sack of nice vegetables.  Health care workers are going to call me back.  My levels are high, but can be managed.  A pretty good deal, and I am glad KC dragged me down there.

In the Inner City,  be alert.  There is danger, but also opportunity.  I am not alert, but stewing in my kind of sadness, feelings of helplessness as I watch life melt before my eyes,  I love to write, do things on my computer.

Nothin’ but Liquor

I think Northeast is going to get wilder still.  I go down to the Notorious Fast Stop to get some milk.  This place has almost nothin’ but liquor in it’s cooler cases.  A lot of Mexican stuff, since Northeast is turning into Ciudad Juarez.  I like Mexican things, don’t get me wrong, but I am worried about the BAD things coming with them. They have their own ways of doing things,  Northeast is FULL of that.

?I’m “Old School” etc”.  Translation- a criminal. Maybe it is my imagination, but maybe, there will be the cartel war type activities.

The Fast Stops,  all of the convenience stores except 7-11, and a couple others,  are just packed with liquor.  These are more like liquor stores,  with just one small area of the cooler case for Milk.  They are selling it as fast as they can load it in there, too.  Fast Stop has 2 trucks a day bringing in almost nothin’ but Mexican beer.  It’s that old Devil Juice,  I call it.  That shit brings out the worst in people.  I keep thinking of East St. Louis, where they have all night liquor stores.

Friday night there are lines in the stores for that Stupid Juice.  

The drug trade causes fights, because people spend their money on an expensive habit, instead of food, shelter, and medicine.  It seems like mankind just loves darkness.

I go there to get nasty cigarettes at the Fast Stop- what a fool.  They are selling that stuff like it is going out of style.. Modelo,  Corona, some of the customers staggering they’re so drunk.  It’s mostly Mexicanos.  Love the Mexican food.  Don’t like that booze.

The inner city just has this air of gloom and darkness about it.  It is the devil, loose in the world.

My sister’s surgery really opened my eyes about the V.A. Medical Center.   Even the shoddy pajamas they give you, it makes the place seem like a dog pound.  I went to a anti smoking meeting, and they got all bent out of shape because I was using a Android Tablet to take notes.  So I just walked out of there. Sheesh, many people’s cell phones are more capable and powerful than this tablet.  Strictly serfdom.

Self interest is the ONLY interest.  The place has a bad reputation, and it is getting worse.  It is very difficult to get a shuttle ride in the huge parking lot, and it used to be easy.  The Patient Advocate is no more.

Most of the vets I have seen are from poor to homeless, and many kind of get batted around in this world.  They have special problems.   Perhaps this is just the few I have met.  There is a certain camaraderie with them though.   At least I have this in common with them.  It’s a comfort.

I had a shoulder surgery, now it is really bothering me.  While my sister was ill,  I visited Truman Lakewood,  the little Hospital at Blue Springs, and Menorah.   All of these,  especially Menorah, seemed quite superior to the V.A.  The website at the V.A. is down now, so I am wondering if it is going to be improved, or if it is going down hill like the rest of the place.

At the V.A. they seem to have a controlling thing,  like you are a dog in a dog pound, and they pretty much don’t give a shit about the patients, but their career.   I finally got a decent blood draw where they did not just tear my arm up, for instance.

It is very machine like.. you are dealt with, and a lot of the people working there, especially the social services, well they are not that good, not that informed.

I carry an Android Tablet with me.  To take notes on, and also, you could carry complete medical records, even complete copies of important documents,  DD214,  Passport, etc.   This bimbo that is teaching the non smoking class gets all bent out of shape at my Android.

Many of the V.A. employees are LOUSY.  LOUSY at their jobs.   I like my Doctor and my Nurse, but the rest of them are very dodgy in quality.  Social Service workers who are ill informed as to how the social security system works.  Social workers who just hand you a printout of where food banks are.  They are very ill informed.

I HAVE got some very good care there.  Yep, they’ve done a good job on a few occasions.  In the USA you have to have your eyes wide open for the fine print- or else you are a dead duck.  I mean literally- dead. The wait time at the VA is far shorter than Truman.  It is very short there.    BUT..the VA is very jam packed.. very busy.  It is busier than even Truman East, maybe.

The USA is a scary damn place.  You never know what you are going to get.  Maybe, it is better than I think.  I hope it is.

“As Soon as there is Life, there is Danger”- Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Bambi and Fred move out, and they are in my prayer list every night.  It feels good to pray for people,  for people you do not know, and most of all,  for people you dislike.  Many a person who I have disliked, has turned out to be a good human being.   People’s lives are checkered.  Here a good deed, and there a sin.

God forgives people, but men never do.  Especially the IRS. 

There is one thing about being a Fool.. it knows know race, creed, or color.  Now that snippy little thing Margie fights with her old man.  They are both whites.  I do not know if they are drug enthusiasts or not.  The dude is always saying.. “those cops kicked in such and such apartment.”   Well who gives a shit?

Anyways, I do not know how they even have a voice left, or least,  how Margie has a voice left.  They were screaming for 3 or 4 hours.   Well they DID take a break after the first 2 hours.

We are in God’s image,  except our mirror is distorted and malformed.. like these Frankensteins of God.

Anyways,  when that  starts I dive under the covers.

The Fool Shoes we Wear

“Each man must wear out at least one pair of Fool Shoes.”- Charlie Chan.  After all the stuff I did in life, it would have been best to have just kept applying at the Post Office,  until I got hired!  Instead I drove over the road,  worked at AT&T in the IT industry,  did this and that.

The simple job of the postal workers looks appealing right now.    It is NOT an easy job.   They must walk and walk and walk.  But it pays really good, compared to many jobs that are supposed to be.. high tech,  cool,  etc.   The most I ever made driving a semi truck was $41,000 a year.   This was GONE from home all the time,  and pretty much 70 hours a week,  sitting in front of a steering wheel smoking,  then a couple hours of frantic, heavy exercise,  and starchy truck stop food.

How I love my nerd gadgets and computers.. but the IT industry just went south,  I guess.    Love the computers,  but boy, I do not see how I am can make a coin drop with them.

I see people in Northeast living very exciting lives.   They are in and out of jail,  use drugs until they practically drop.   They use them until it drives them clean into the gutter.

We are offered an apple, but choose instead the poison.




All the Mexicanos are going to church.  Some are working.  There are two chicken places set up,  one down at the BP across from Northeast High School,  the other up by Fast Stop across from Indiana.  I had a chicken yesterday,  Pollo Asado al Carbon.  YUMMY!

Brandi is out there.  She bums a cigarette from me, and she looks terrible.   Fat,  and with the same dirty clothes on she has been wearing for days now.  She is desperate and dangerous,  so I steer clear.

Actually,  it is peaceful, and how sweet the peace is, as long as you steer clear of people.


Saturday at noon,  go get something to eat.   As I leave, the regulars are coming  out on the stoop.  Charles has a white plastic sack, with fifth of cheap bourbon in it.   I drove down the avenue, where a lone street preacher was preaching the gospel in Spanish, to whoever would listen,  which was nobody, at least so far.

The preacher’s children were sitting on the bare, hot concrete of the parking lot.  His wife was sitting in a folding chair, attentive.    Mexican vendors were in the empty parking lots,  cooking grilled chicken over wood fires.   Big grey plumes of smoke marked them for blocks.   They make some GOOD chicken,  let me tell you.   The usual hookers walking around, and some new ones too.  I parked the car on the side of my favorite restaurant,  Flor de Chiapas.  It is run by a Mexican family,  from Chiapas, of course.  Previously it had been called “Super Pollo”.  Then, the owner had gotten busted, and the police discovered many kilos of cocaine stashed in the cinder block walls.   I order three tacos,  and they are as usual,  very good.

Down at the end building hot, loud words, as the argument from Friday night continues.   Call me a racist,  call me what you will,  NO ONE fights like blacks do.   It’s that ghetto, “I don’t take no shit off nobody.” They really get into it,  and when it starts, it is time to RUN.   Conversely,  blacks can be very sweet,  very considerate.

Hmm.. on the other hand, most serial killers are white.  The really bad ones,  like Gerald  Stano, or Pee Wee Gaskins,  they were white.    Pee Wee Gaskinz might may well have been, the meanest person who ever lived.   It’s hard to believe someone could be so mean!

It takes time to get used to people.  A long time.  They’re always fighting..who did what to who, who ripped off whom.   *Groann*   Who knows why things happened?  You are just a witness, that is all.   You sort of witness people.

The Front Stoop

Everyone out there on the front stoop,  it is Friday.  Mostly poor and black.   People start drinking the stupid juice.  I hate that shit.   A ‘can o’ whoopass, and a bottle o’ loudmouth.’   People are stupid over in Independence, too.   They are stupid everywhere.   “Experience holds a very dear school, but fools will learn in no other.”- Benjamin Franklin.

Dunno if the woman next door is out of jail, and who cares?  I do not like violence.   They are out there,  louder and louder.  A big black woman is cursing and threatening the woman in the leopard skin dress..”and I’m gonna tell YOU somethin'”   Some women like to fight,  they really like it.

One guy says, “if this was St. Louis, someone would have been shot long ago.  They don’t fight and argue too long there.”   He’s from East St. Louis.    It’s not only the blacks.   There are plenty of white punks,  plenty of whatever punks around.  To be honest,  no one fights like the blacks do,  at least,  the poor ones.  They will fight at the drop of a hat.    It’s that liquor, or the drugs.  The liquor seems the worst.

People are doing their best to spoil Friday.

People LOVE violence more than sex,  more than drugs,  more than anything.   Mankind loves it’s darkness.  It doesn’t matter if we were all fed with a golden spoon,  they would still find something to fight about.

Ah, Friday night.  I get some very good tacos from Flor de Chiapas I am in love with those women,  at least their cookin’.   AND..  Sonic has 1/2 price shakes,  so what a sweet reward.  You know,  this place ought to be like paradise on earth.  Man keeps trying to turn it into hell.

Friday,  thank God you are here, but it is time to stay indoors.

Now Craig-o gets his TVee stolen.  That’s what he gets for being friendly around here.   He has a terminal condition,  cancer.  Or at least,  he has been saying that for a year.  He’s got that one eye all clouded over like he can’t see out of it,  there is a film over the eye.  He lives over in the building next door,  which is good,  he can’t knock on my door and bug me.  Not that I mind.  You get used to him.  He is just lonely,  but he kind of bugs you.

He gets drunk, likes to drink,  and leave his door open so he won’t miss out on the “action party.”  Well he got some action,  all right.   The same action you would get with a pack o’ wolves.  The people in the other building, the one just north of me,  got some “action” too.   A woman whops her husband (boyfriend, or whatever) in the head with some object,  hurts him,  and the cops come and take HER away.

Oh well.. the world is NUTS.. just about everywhere you go!


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