The Miser
Late turn of the century, early 1900's clothes. There is this man who is building some kind of project for this rich and powerful man. The customer never seems to have a name and his face is always blurred he wants the gallows built and there are rings at the top and heavy duty pulleys to suspend objects, all this out in the open deep into the woods on his estate. The builder is excited and is a handsome blond man with light blue shocking eyes and a magnificent body, busting out of his tailored suit. He exudes this happiness at his work and does it with the finest craftsmanship and without question builds these idiosyncratic edifices. This is the main reason this man is chosen. The work is in progress when I flip to the future...
These young teenage boys are playing video games and when the pizza deliver guy comes turn on the cable TV, to see what's on... the see a documentary on this mysterious miser that lived in there town. They were so engrossed they watched to whole program to figure out where his property extended so they could check it out. One of the guys so excited about this find called his girlfriend to see if she wanted in on the discovery. Her and her best friend answered and said they'd be over to watch. They got all gussed up in dresses and thought they'd be cuddling on the couch and eating pizza. Excited they walk over to the guy’s house the boyfriends were at. In the meantime the boys so excited over this documentary are grabbing maps of the city with the ones they printed out from the website via the show that was on and are juxtaposing the maps to find out where the man lived. They had this silly idea there was treasure because he was so rich and the inheritance was missing. They figured that was the real story behind the documentary. The girls arrive to empty pizza boxes and over hormonal teenage boys ready for the quest for treasure. The boys explain everything but then realized the girls were not dressed for digging. The plan was formulated. The boy who did not have a girlfriend was to take their girlfriends back to the one girls house they had called originally for a change of clothes and the missing supplies. Then met the other two boys on the land of this old estate, which has been divided up into parcels of land of a farmer, the judge, and a public park. The other pieces of the estate would be in some people’s backyards and the like.

Billy you’re my idol… Back to something I know. My life being turn upside, boy you turnin’ me inside out and round and round. I forgot how much music can invigorate the soul. My mamma don tol’ me, when I was in pigtails, hon, a man is a two face, he’ll give you the big eye and when his big talkin’s done…The Blues in the Night.
    Then movies, back to my books and feeding my brain, and I almost forgot about the people train. Am I distracting myself or just spending and little quality time…? A little stroll down memory lane… I remember all the musical moments in my life. One glorious hit tune after another. Does my life go platinum? Or am I hiding from the pa-pa-rot-si?

I’m burning up for your love… maybe I should be a vampire and suck it out of them or just walk out into the light of day. DAY – O. DAAAYYY –OOOOO Daylight come and I better drink-a-the-rum. Except I don’t like to wallow in my own pity, dislike hangovers (a development with old age), and really don’t need to take a depressant. I am depressed enough. The blues hits at night. I wear my sunglasses at night so I can so I can… watch you weave your story lies, hmmm. I’d quote weird Al except all I got is take an egg and BEAT IT!

Cooking channels are all the rage, kick it up a notch, BAM! Gotta love Emeril. Which reminds me of a Cosby show episode where Theo learns to carve the bird like so… Bill says after seeing his attempt to carve the turkey why didn’t Theo just take a cherry bomb and let the guests eat the turkey off the ceiling and floor. Bringing me back to my strange love, depressed thoughts and no amount of distractions working.

I escape into the SILENCE, which I was not enjoying forgive me Depeche Mode, but I found out I was not alone. Something deep in me, a spiritual ballad without words radiates from my long nights alone, tired and needing a little forgiveness… I will walk with you until clouds move away, I’ll walk with you… I’m the one who’s gonna help you see the light, I be right there… walk with you… each and every day.

Remember me, Lord, when you walk into your kingdom. From this retired disc jockey, who knows well there is a melody for every mood. A song in every person’s heart that must be sung and praised. There is a magic…called LIFE. There is Sweet Honey in the Rock. There is a moment captured in our mind with the help of a tune. A bump and grind, sexual healing – SATISFACTION kind of moment that can lead into an everlasting love that is simply unforgettable. Or the Sentimental Journey we take when we hear the sacred sounds melt those memories into the instrumental moments of our lives.

Let the music play …on…Duende.

The theory is that it is possible for males and females of any sexual orientation to admit to romantic feelings and still have a friendship after the confession with an understanding of why both parties are interested in the friendship. (Their motivation to stay in the relationship already in motion.) As long as both parties are honest, truthful and continue the lines of communication the friendship can be saved from the development of romantic feelings of either party.

The Story:

    There were once a couple of good friends. One male and one female who shared their poetry and a great deal of their emotions. Poetry was their connection. Life happens. They became closer and shared more and the events that had spawned the poetry were shared. Time moves quickly. Then some strange events happened. The female discovered through this sharing that her friend was in love with another girl. Our female was delightedly happy and decided to do something about it. Being a typically over protective friend to her male friend she, decided that the plan was to get to know this girl, whom she was acquainted with and see if she was WORTHY of her poet friend. She deemed they were. In the process of getting them together an oops happened!
    She discovered unbeknownst to her that she was developing feelings for her friend and before she completed the ties between the other two she decided to tell her poet friend her feelings at one of their hangouts and spill her guts. She did. He told her he never felt that way for her, they were just good friends. She conceded this was true. He was concerned are we still going to be able to be friends? She closed her eyes and imagined all the feelings that were at the smallest beginnings and put them in suspended animation in the shoebox of her mind and put the shoebox in the proverbial closet of her mind. She then looked at her friend and said, “no this will not affect our friendship and it will continue as it was before this conversation took place.â€?
    For the most part this was true. They continued to talk, share poetry and dreams. She finally got the girl of his dreams to admit to her feelings for her poet friend and the poetess was left with great poetry to write.

THE REST OF THE STORY:
    The poetess began working on her own things, due to the fact; her two friends were spending more of their time together and not as a group. People drifted apart. The poetess continued periodically to stay in touch, but as time wore on and more and more promised visits and the get together’s were broken. She decided to let them go. One night many years and months later the phone rang and her poet friend was on the other end asking to hang out for coffee and some poetry. The poetess was renewed with hope that the friendship hadn’t died and accepted the invitation. The poetess met the poet at one of their old time hang out spots and had coffee. They caught up on the details. Friendly flirtations flipped.
    The poet informed the poetess that he had not stopped thinking about the what if, of the two of them. (Editor’s note: Poet and the girl of his dreams are now engaged and live in their own house, found out through the grapevine.) Poetess was slightly confused. Did girl of his dreams leave him? No, she is out of town visiting the family. Poetess continues the state of confusion. What do you mean us? He then in great detail spoke about their meeting where poetess took all confessed emotions (at least the romantic ones) and placed into the shoebox in the proverbial closet encounter, at the hang out place they never visited again.
    Poetess took a deep breath and said you’d better explain yourself and in greater detail. He then flattered her about her beauty and how he missed their conversations, but most of all wondered what sex between them would be like. Poetess flattered, pissed off and really hurt from the gapping wound left from the unwanted removal of the
s
hoebox remarked plainly that the friendship changing had not been her issue. As too her beauty, why can’t some untaken straight man with ethics tell her that. Then said the sex would be emotionless and mechanical, simply because the emotions you have asked me to retrieve have not been nurtured, and have been placed in a spot of respect for their friendship. All of their friendships he, the poet, she, the poetess and the girl of his dreams. The sacrifice that was made was of ones feelings for the greater good of all involved, now you are asking me to enter into a relationship that I wanted 8 years ago, without the right to call you my own. How well do you know me? What would the girl of his dreams say? He did not know because she does not know the conversation was taking place. The poetess asked, “what do you think she would say, considering she has a great many issues with competition, many insecurities and a desire for your undying love. True, it might be unrealistic of me to judge, but unless girl of your dreams is in love with me, then you might have much bigger problems. I am unsure I am qualified to deal with those issues and not sure I care to enter into this bargain since I gain nothing once again.�
    The poet friend quickly recovered with something witty and was careful to leave sleeping dogs lie with small talk, promises of getting together to keep their friendship alive and them leaving.

UPDATE to theory:
    Poetess has continued to live life to the fullest. She has shared the theory of being able to put romantic emotions successfully away in the proverbial closet. Friendship will come an go depending on the individuals and the basis and motivation of the friendship.
    The Singer (new to our cast) heard poetess’ theory and says it is bunk. Singer believes that there is no such thing as sex not getting in the way of a friendship between a female and male friendship. Singer stays the no she is not interested in all the men she is friends with, but you never know how they feel about you. Poetess defends theory by stating that it is possible for either the female or male who has the romantic feelings to put it to the side for the good of the friendship. Singer says that if they don’t end up in bed then fine, but usually there is no friendship. Both get into detail life experiences and dating issues and relationship issues and haggles an end to the discussion, the ability to agree to disagree.

New Story (abridged) (for all those who have heard it too many times)…
    New friendship, 10 years and running. Distance. Life happens. Keeping in touch. Poetess finds herself in a similar situation, but this time is unaware of the emotions. Decides to confess. (Confession is good for the soul. Beware the listener…) Boy confesses many things too, but had no idea the poetess felt that way about him. Boy also confesses he is in a new relationship and doesn’t know what to do. They continue long conversations. Boy goes on vacation. Boy calls more frequently with more questions about everything and the kitchen sink. Friendship continues. Boy knows poetess is interested in another party. Boy is still dating new girl. Poetess goes on vacation. When she returns to discover that 6 months have passed a no word from Boy.
    Singer, on trip with band and poetess to visit Boy before the vacation goes badly. Singer gets involved. Singer has very different perspective than poetess. Poetess argues, feels hurt, and moves on.
    Ending pending…

Meditation:
    Poetess lets go and lets live. Hurt, yes. New theory developing: never introduce your best friends to each other if they don’t know each other already. Poetess gracefully bows out. Part of her believes in the Boy and knows someday he will call to talk. Poetess and Singer still friends? Poetess forgives herself for loving Boy, and poet. Ponders that the issue isn’t the theory that has faults but the other women involved who don’t believe in themselves.
    Problem with theory is the hum
ans in
volved and no control group. Boy also knows about the poet. Shoebox theory evolution. No one wants to be in the proverbial shoebox.

Moral to the story:
In friendship we are so much more, but are we friends with ourselves first?


    

“It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.� I lost again, my friend Shakespeare.

    I seem to be a risk taker. Ripley’s give me a bumper sticker! Drum roll please. So much for women’s intuition. It is so amazing what a man in love with you can do for your sense of self-image! I did not mean to do it. An old friend came back to visit. I noticed some feelings, I didn’t understand and for six months I didn’t get it. He came back and then when he left I cried until my heart sank.
    I made one of the hardest decisions on my life: to tell one of my best friends that I had more than friendship feelings for him. I felt I had betrayed our friendship. Somehow I knew that things would always be different. So I took a leap of faith. I told him straight out how I felt. I asked what he felt. I told him the straight out truth.
    It’s been 5 months and no answer. I won’t get into the mixed messages and half-truths of this sorted mess. I won’t get into the I’m being punished with a deadly silence that shatters my soul. No, I’ve called with big news, little news, just to see how you are doing news, to the complete cold shoulder. If I knew this man at all, I would say safely that he is avoiding me because like all best friends I know way too much.
    Just be real with me. That is what all my male friends tell me and when I take there advise and just tell the man how I feel I get – SILENCE. I’m starting to think Machiavelli had something. Girls have always told me that I am all wrong. Men don’t really want anything they ask for, they can’t handle it. I should play the game. But see then it isn’t about two people anymore it is about power. That is a dangerous bedside tool. I’ll stick to straight up – TRUTH.
    I honestly don’t really think I have answers. I have to come to know that I didn’t really know my best friend at all. I wasn’t the most important person in his life. Or maybe I killed it. Either way, I deserve to know something. Not silence, from 4 to 5 calls a week and our weekly Saturday evening call. Boy was I gullible. Therefore if I lost something so precious it will hurt, and Sweet Jesus, it does! But I’m not really sure what I lost, because my best friend would never have done this to me. Et tu Brute! Or maybe he’s just spineless and better to know now than wait another ten years to discover it. Or was it just something I wanted to hear. Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth? Yes. No. It’s complicated. Anything besides this infernal silence. So, my friend, enjoy the silence…
    So what moral do I have for you… well just another Shakespearian quote “To thine own self be true.â€? In the end, I can look myself in the mirror and have no regrets. I was honest. Spilled my guts. Told the truth. And took a risk not too many people think I am sane for, of course I never said I was sane, just myself. I got to know my real best friend; I just forgot to look in the mirror.

    Love is out there! Somewhere… and too the lucky few who have the courage to go where most never dare to tread, may happiness find you every chance you get to find it!