Continued from My Name Is Nobody - PART ONE OF TWO

On the surface this story is simple. What attracted me to My Name Is Nobody were the many levels of symbolism and life lessons spread all over. Take for instance the story of the little bird. I posted that as an article last week for fun. If you read the article, its about a little bird that falls out of a tree. A cow comes up and drops a dung heap on it to keep it warm, then a coyote comes up brushes it off clean and then eats it. I left you readers with pondering the moral to the story for yourself.

In the movie My Name Is Nobody, the main character Nobody tells that story in the middle of the movie. He leaves Jack Beauregard in the same quandary, he says, “My grandpa said you have to figure out the moral for yourself.”

In the final moments of the story Jack Beauregard writes a letter to Nobody telling him he’s figured out the moral to his grandpa’s story of the little bird. His answer seems as relevant now as it could ever be. It’s a lesson I took with me forward through my own life.

My name is nobody. That line seems to read sadly doesn’t it? It is far from it. It is in fact an important part of my life. It’s a line that empowered me. It offered me hope and it became a way of life for me.

When I was a mere boy of 14 I was in search of my identity like most early teens. While some boys were established jocks, some boys had scholastic skills that seemed unfair, and others had charisma, I had none of these at the exceptional level in which I felt I knew what I’d do with my life.

At best I had a love for music and sang in my bed at night. That is another story.

From an early age I admired men of mystery. Men that said little, or if they spoke, their words protected them. Two types of men that fit this mold where spies and detectives. Spies would always speak in public with words meant to communicate yet protect their agenda and identity. Little of their life was open on the surface. A spy lived a sad life however because those that loved them most, may never know them, including perhaps a wife. With detectives, they saw life through a different prism, and like spies their senses were sharpened to what they saw in day-to-day life, let alone situations that required finely tuned instincts. Spies had secret lives and lexicons, while detectives read secrets. These people made sense to me. I have always been drawn to those skills. These type of men lived a life where they were essentially unseen, could blend in and saw the world around them in a way other people took for granted. I admired spies and detectives because they were strong and comfortable with being, nobody. They live around us invisibly. They are nobody.

Today I was just about brought to tears.  While taking my youngest son to breakfast we learned that the restaurant'scash registers were utterly down.  They could not accept my bank card. I had no cash.  And frankly, the family is in a tough state right now due to the on-going custody battle I'm still in.

I tell my son, "I'm sorry buddy, I don't have cash and their machines won't take my bank card."  He understood of course.  We walk to the car and I drum up some coins.  I tell him we may have enough in change to make due.  My son even produces one, "Here Dad, take mine."  It was a dime.  It was a humbling moment.    Damn I love that kid.

We go back inside with enough for food but not for drink.  A man and his wife that watched us leave earlier approached me.  "Here take this, I have grandchildren and they would be devastated if they had to leave without eating."  I was speechless.  I looked at him and thanked him, telling him that we only needed enough for drink but he was already turning and walking away.  My eyes welled up a bit.  Just a bit.  But I felt it.  The kindness of a stranger. I was dumbfounded.  My eyes welled up a bit and I thought, "With all I've been through, there are good people."

We paid for our meal and I gave the rest of the money to my son asking him to thank the man for what he gave and that we only needed enough for a drink.   Obediently he ran over and back.

Call me sensitive or whatever.  But it meant a lot to know people that didn't even know us were willing to be kind.  I can bear witness to ...   more »

WHERE AND HOW IT ALL BEGAN

VIDEO: Skating At Home

Some time ago when I was a boy of 14 I learned to roller-skate.  I had to.  Every friend I knew was at the roller rink.  I didn't consider the learning curve, I just did it.  By the age of 16 when I could finally drive and didn't need my parents to drop me off at the skating rink I almost didn't have much use for it.  But I continued as it was a great place to meet girls. Let's face it, I was 16.  But eventually even the lure of the female persuasion couldn't keep me at the skating rink, there was a lot of world to see and I hung up my skates for some time.  Eventually I'd learn to snow ski and later on water ski.  My strong ability to skate came in handy.  I once tried to ice-skate and found that it was not the same as skating on four wheels, this made me wary when the a new type of skate came along... the inline skate or rollerblade as many people will call them still.  They are called inline skates because the skate wheels are inline, centered under your foot.  Believe it or not an out-of-line skate has come on and they may be my next purchase, just two wheels and they are on the side of the foot.  I've listed at the bottom of this article some good skating resource links.  NOTE: Remember you don't need speed skates for recreational skating.  You don't want to jump barrels in speed skates, you only need good pads and a helmet.  You should also own wrist gaurds too if not round out the whole set with elbow pads IF you intend to jump, grind or slalom.  If you are learning, these are must have investments.  But I'm getting ahead of myself... let me tell the story...

I used to imagine the Rebel Richard Bush sang about.  The young boy that left home with nothing but heart and came home a man.  The opening open guitar chords would always give my solace thinking that rebel was worthwhile.  Later the guitar work was simple and perfect, the keyboards seemed so ready for the 80's yet smooth and perfectly selected for production value.  The whole song had heart.   When Bush would belt out his passionate verse... "So be kind when he approaches.... cus that Rebel could be me!" at the end of the song you really knew he meant it, and you got the idea he really wanted that girl to take him to heart.  I hope she did.  Richard if you are reading this... you were a way cool guy I looked up to.  I hope life has treated you fair.  Your music still lives with a lot of us.   If you'd like to learn a bit more about on of my favorite bands The A's, read here.

When The Rebel Comes Home

He’s a refugee from the highway

Out there fighting for years

Whether for God or glory

He’s been traveling through his tears

He always feels like the next step

Will surely set him free

So be kind when he approaches.... cus that rebel could be me!

Doesn’t know the roads been dying

Dying for so many years

He’s been traveling in darkness

He’s been traveling in fear

He left long ago as a young boy

Left the young boy in him behind

Now his reasons for leaving

Are just a little hard to find

When the rebel comes home,

Please don’t leave him alone no no!

Let him rest his head on his shoulder

You can't insult this ...   more »

This is a true story.  The year was 1989.   It was summer.  I owned a small boat, a fifteen footer.  It was small runabout with a 65 horsepower engine and it wasn't always reliable but I was happy it worked the times I put her in.   I always enjoyed using it for freshwater pond fishing but it was a fiberglass tri-hull suitable for ocean or bay fishing. 

I named my boat the Malaise after a car in the Speed Racer storyline.  The Malaise (Ma Lahz) was also known as the X-3 and it was a car that when it showed up, other cars crashed, like a bad omen.  And I remember some bad luck with my boat so I thought the name was appropriate.  Not until this moment did I realize what it also meant as I pen this story.

My best friend from high-school Keith Wright and his friend Earl Parsons were with me this day.  Keith and I had been toying with the idea of forming a band.  That time had no yet come, but we were good friends that did a lot of fishing together and we went as far as to buy motorcycles so we could pal around and do day trips on them.

I had begun to use my boat to meet girls and I'd float around a lot on my own too.  It was a great time in my life.  I didn't realize it so much at the time. I recall using my boat a lot on the upper Chesapeake.  I'd put in at the Perryville Fish market which is now gone and replaced by condo's.  Kinda sad I thought when I saw it happen one summer.   No more easy access to the Susquehanna flats and no more playing volleyball ...   more »

Her name was Lisa Butler.  She was Italian, but fair skinned.  She had a real short Sheena Easton hair cut and look to her. She was about 5 years my senior and very much a dignified but sexy woman.  She was classy in every way.  She drove a Volkswagen Passat and her cloths were always from the finest of ...   more »

I just sent this story to a friend in e-mail and figured it was worth sharing. :) The photo at right is at Confetties (Keith-Guitar Chris Base, Mike-Drums Lars-Vocals & Fran-Guitar off camera to right)

I was in a Delaware band named Hard to Get. We were a 5 member 4 piece band that played back in the early ...   more »

This story is for all you men out there with kids that look up to you.  If you are a father, you should know your children look to you to be invincible.  They rely on you to be strong at all times.  About 4 months ago my son started commenting that I was not in as good ...   more »

Ever wanted to go back and impress people that didn't recognize you for what you knew you were?

I don't mean showing off.  I mean being recognized as something different than what you are tagged as. 

Guess what I was in high school.  Was a I a jock?  Perhaps I was a prep or ...   more »