The Evergreen Hippie

Gratitude, like napkins at mealtime, are the little somethings I attempt to attach to every kindness I am served in life.

It is a rare and beautiful gift of karma and grace to be re-given a moment in time wherein a neglected expression of gratitude can, some thirty years later, find the intended and deserving target.

My little sister Kate ran across Mr. Wesley Mathis, my Evergreen Jr High school English teacher, who my friends and I considered the coolest of all teachers breathing.

Wes Mathis was one of many teachers, coming up, who corrected and graded my spelling, my grammar, my syntax, my punctuation, and occasionally my behavior.

The greatness in him that I forever revere is one simple statement he made while looking me straight in the eye

"You can write" he said, "you should write".

I have neglected any talent I may have been gifted or given through the years by life's many delay tactics and easy excuses, but I never forgot those words and the love of writing they inspired.

I do not so easily express myself with the spoken word,

but Yes Wes I Can Write! good or bad I Can Write!

Wes, my teacher and friend, may the spirit who carries your torch guide your journey, safe and strong, to a destiny at least the equal of destinies you've inspired

and that, I pray for you, be heaven.

Thank You!

-Hermit King-

Resolution

Let us vow as one to build better memories for our children—memories that show we have overcome some of the worst economic and sociological meltdowns in history. Memories that prove we have ended long-entrenched cultures of shameless lust for power and greed. Unified, despite seemingly endless cycles of partisan political stalemate. Raised neither voice nor hand against another whose only threat was difference. Let us drown out the painful cries of our broken, addicted, and destitute masses with shouts of life, assistance, and love.

Remember, as children, we see the world first through our parents' eyes. We must clearly recognize the mistakes of our folly and gift a new vision to those who follow. We can no longer shuffle the difficulties of our days into darkness, for this only builds and strengthens the dark. We must create true strength by facing each day with the hardship and honor of honest work.

We must rekindle our national pride as we tirelessly face the world with the unflinching force of our grace and intelligence, rather than with knee-jerk dogmas of fear or the cold barrels of national wrath. We must come to an understanding of our human diversity and gratefully celebrate its many opportunities to expand the borders and definitions of what is "acceptably human."

Turn from tyranny and paranoia. Risk allowing a global bloom of trust in the reality of a peaceful higher power. Focus solely on the ascent of humankind, not on its Armageddon. Seek a higher power, undefined by the divisive variables of myriad ancient texts; rather, seek divine powers, often dormant, born in every human soul.

Allow a drop of hope, a wellspring of faith, rivers of patience, and oceans of joy to be that power—no higher earthbound powers needed. Allow the dream of such greatness and potential for change to abide in ourselves and our fellow man. Believe it is not too late to battle back from the brink of a world lost to the anarchy of savage rule. Know that with fierce resolve and purity of commitment, we can turn, sacrifice, labor, and climb into the loving embrace of greener gardens and reign once more in the Eden of old.

-Hermit King-

About Time

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Tonight, I am officially old.

The child I raised has a child of his own. I am a grandparent. Death now stalks me with that smart-ass grin of one who is certain of triumph. It is now inevitable—I will not live forever. Consoling me is a kindness, yet sadly, a waste of time.

My back hurts, my blood pressure runs high, my thyroid has died, I am balding, overweight, and all the mysteries of sex are in the rearview mirror. The kids now have lives and families of their own, overriding any need for my approval or advice. The independence and solitude I spent a lifetime seeking now seem mine in heavy abundance.

I would weep, were it not for the fact that no one stands to witness my step into the darkness. I suddenly feel an overwhelming need to channel surf to Lawrence Welk, eat some soft bland food, and tell those damn loud kids out front to stay off my lawn.

What happened to the man who hiked out the Crystal Canyon Narrows in flood season, stood guard against violence in a wild western saloon and never took a shot, bounced unhurt down a hill by a felled 50-foot pine tree, was hit by a car while riding a bike (twice), and climbed Mount Olympus with a hang glider?

Time. It is an unforgiving hag.

-Hermit King-

Orig Published 09/10

https://open.spotify.com/track/2gE58DQyqgsvsK87SWUN62?si=aJM9UAgfTcWduKHMncop-g

My Dad

I don't want to get too flowery about my father.

I don't think he would like that as much as a good old solid dose of what I feel to be the truth about him.

My Sire is rock sober solid. There is no finer soldier in the ranks of getting the task done as T Stephen. He scared the living crap out of me for Thirty years in his vain attempt to instill that same solid nature in me (I'm sure that had he not mellowed some over time, he would still rattle my cage were he so inclined).

My Father is a man of God. His belief system is based on two basic precepts as I see it, firstly; how a man get's through every second of the day ought to stand up to a Gods scrutiny, (My father was to me God and I was a hell bound train from the age of fourteen or so). second; raise as many kids as God deems you worthy to raise as best as you can (5 boys 3 girls).

My Dad worked hard for a living (retired). He was and is a first class salesman. If he ever pulled a boner wrong move, I never knew of it. (that may be more of a testament to my moms silence than fact?).

My Bubba stands up for things and rarely backs down. I'm not saying he can't be beat, It just isn't easy and unless your solid gold certain he will likely come at you again. My dad pays the price, he looks for good value and often negotiates, but when it comes time to pay the bill there is no vacillation or excuse, debt is not an option.

I wasted years resenting him and his (evil) ways, after all who in there right mind would want to emulate a rock solid, sober, god fearing, hard working, talented, honorable, intelligent, frugal, responsible American male.

I'ld like to just skip right to the apology and a thank you or two, Dad I am heartfelt sorry for the several hellish moments I put you and mom through, You didn't deserve it.

Thank you for never lowering your values to try and fit into what I thought a Father should be, but raising your own bar and allowing me to see all a father can be.

Thank you for never letting love and respect be a debt for services rendered, but a moment of realization hard won in raising my own.

I love you now more than ever and though I can never hope to be the same man, I can honestly say that because of you I am one (hell bound train significantly slowed).

-Hermit King-

Orig. Published 11/09

https://open.spotify.com/track/6HpX1vw7fklrHFrHkWUQIT?si=0KhCXqSESZSFke2rO9LxKQ

Seat in the Spectrum

Light is a most interesting concept.
Notice, I did not say thing, ideal, or state of mind,
because it is all of these,
I have been taught.

The visible spectrum of light is a drip in the vast array of possibility beyond our scale,
and it is in this scale,
I dare to wonder.

I've pondered these things of late, as those I know and those they know are soon to pass,
and it is in light
I choose to hope.
There is ultimate expectation and repose.

Many religions teach that God is the ultimate light, and that this light exists within reach for everyone
willing to stretch
for that seemingly impossible
level of the ethereal.

If we, as corporeal beings, prosecute our lives in a manner which strengthens our bond to light,
be it eating right, smiling, enjoying music,
or just helping another—
whatever the criteria may be—
we should gravitate
to a given spectral plane of light upon passing.

Consequently, as there is opposition to all things,
there would be a darker result for passing destruction, misery, and pain into the mix
of the great beyond.

At present, I do not fear death.
I am easily no angel.
I have crawled on my belly in a dire solitude of darkness, from which beings of great light have brought me forth.
Now, I cherish what eternity I am gifted,
with every smiling moment in the sun.

I will, sadly, not be on a level of that spectral light
with many whom I love,
be they lighter or darker,
as they have each
earned their own shades of grey.

I will, however, be with those who understand and love me
for exactly who and what I am,
for they are neither more nor less,
in any way,
and, in the end,
my sisters and brothers.

-Hermit King-

https://open.spotify.com/track/0n0Z9Dltr3DDQvWamIouMl?si=ExBpKCpISNu-_GUGOexePw