" Old Friends " .....( a narration by Lucias Rochester )

(Push play twice to read along with old Lucias)

Oh....the days and years I have known this man!.. This man,..who was once a boy...and could never have imagined this day !

     As I gazed inside the mirror....a terrible fright sent chills through my bones and shrank my skin....for the man there was someone I did not know.

     Staring back in a lifeless gaze was a body empty of spirit.  And....as if a soul hovering gently over it...was studied from outside of it..

    Who was this man?  That was known,  but not recognized at that moment.   The body had separated from the spirit.....and that spirit watched from a close distance.

     Perhaps it was a momentary separation of body and soul?   Perhaps their parting was unexpected,  and frighteningly foreign. Or perhaps...it was an obscure recognition of eachother....and the astounding effect of realizing their individuality...

     Whatever the case....I wish to keep my spirit aloft now and again,..watching....as if remote.   At times,...seeing this man I have become.

     We have been together for so long,  yet rarely stop to recognize eachother.
      My soul...removed from my body...saw lifelessness there..
      My body....cold and frightened...empty and scared...

For now, we work together in endless harmonious debate.  But we will separate once again when fear subsides....for that moment for which was instilled much fear and angst...we know we must experience again someday...soon.   

The SledgeHammer

Forget your training.

There are many workplace 'leaders'..that suffer from the lobotomizing effects of doing the 'same old things in the same old ways'. It is easier for them to assimilate to cultures and environments that seem to accommodate undeveloped pathways in a neanderthal mind. At peace,... at home...in a world where 'thinking' is as simple as re-reading typeface in a workbook manual. The mere notion of a sociological thought...too cumbersome for the 'trained brain'. Able to focus...to set and achieve goals ..but only by discounting the peripheral damage in a some strange queer utter disregard to his fellows in humanity.

If necessary, using brute coercive force, humiliation, intimidation, and power of authority to hammer that square peg into a round hole.

Trolling the Mid-Atlantic Ridge!

Push "play" for narration >>     

I was almost asleep.

 I had gotten up early to fish off the edges of the dying oyster bars here in the Halifax River. I dragged my 12' jon boat through the grassy muck on the shoreline...and scoured the river and my memory banks.
Somewhere....somewhere ..out there...there useta be an oyster bar.
I remembered jamming a shovel into it as a kid, and picking out the mud crabs that lived there...to use them as afternoon sheephead bait. I picked up the half-a-cinder-block anchor tied to an old frail rope,  grabbed one of two oars ...and paddled my way out.

My memory banks hadn't failed me!
 I found the old oyster bed about a hundred yards out, and stuck my oar into the mushy dead shells that remained....until the oar began to find the deeper water around the edges. Then I slowly...carefully... quietly....lowered the half-a-cinder-block anchor to the bottom. The sky to the east began to redden. Sunrise was coming soon, and I wanted to be well-situated for the morning bite.

 "What will it be?"...I wondered.

 ...A nice fat gator-trout that had swum his way from the bridge lights earlier in the night?
.....Or a record-breaking 65 pound snook..., whose belly was full but could not resist the side-to-side slashing-thrashing of my Zara Spook?
 ....Or maybe a coupla nice old reds...whose own juvenile memories took them to a time when foraging around this by-gone oyster bed would fill their bellies as the sun would rise?

 It was trout, this mornin'

 ....taking wild glancing tooth-filled blows at a freelined finger-mullet on a pole I had set off to the side as I delicately worked the 'ole Spook across the top of the oystery mush with another rod.
 The first strike was angry! "Spoopsh! Spoopsh!" ..Or whatever that sound is when a trout makes a strike at a helpless straggling mullet..with an intent to kill it, rather than to eat it !
 I freaked a little...and yanked the rod too early on the first strike. When I reeled the line in, the mullet was missing his scales...and had a distinctive big gash down the side of his body, from that single big tooth of a gator-trout. I don't know why they always have "one" single big tooth when I catch them. I think maybe it's a 'hood' sort of thing, ...kinda like a gold-tooth that was a replacement from a street fight or a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from a rear-view mirror. Hey, who knows what goes on down there?

 I quickly baited my line with fresh wiggleys...and the next 45 minutes brought two fat trout and a nice red. The red skies to the east were slowly turning golden...as the morning sun turned it up a notch, and the nice , cool 85 degree morning turned to an intense 98. Time to fish bottom, I guess.

But first...and more importantly.. time to reach under that frozen bag of shrimp, and grab an ice-cold can of Bud-Light.
I could have just called it a day, I guess. Maybe get these three fish back to the shoreline  still floppin'..and get home in time for Church?
 Sorry, Jesus. But we have talked about this out here before .....on Sunday mornin's.....
You know I love ya!   And me, You, and the critters out here...well, we have created our own little Church on the side of this old oyster bed. Many a Sunday mornin' I have prayed out here.... for my dear old Dad and Mom who's livin ' up there with you now.  For advice from old fishin' buddies who's left this earth before me. For a good big fish to bite, ...or to please not let my line break as I gingerly wrestled with a sail-cat across the oysters that I thought was a big red!
 I'm sorry for cursing in Church, by the way.

 By the second can of Bud Light ( by the way...'this' is how we measure time out here. Not by the hands of the clock, but by how many cans of cold-beer are left in that old styro-foam cooler...and how pink them old dead shrimp that are swishing around in them beers are gettin' )....but anyways, by the second can, I had started to settle back into that old aluminum clunker of a boat. But before I could fade-off into a mid-morning snooze,...maybe I'd better bail a few buckets of water out of  this leaky old boat first, so I could snooze a little more peacefully.
 It was slow leaker, but you never can tell just how long a siesta this might be...

 Then, I remembered the days...when me...and my brothers...and a few neighborhood fishing buddies..useta troll out on the open ocean.
 Oh Man! The schools of dolphin we useta slay! HUNDREDS OF 'EM! And huge wahoo! Marlin and sailfish! We caught twelve 'granders in one day.. ..and man, we were spooled so many times we had to break out the 12/0 'just-in case' Penns we had stashed in the bow.

 And I began to recall that one day we had set out on an  adventure of a lifetime!
 We motored past this old oyster bed in our 26' Mako, made our way out of Ponce Inlet doing 45 knots into the red morning sun.
.....Past the structure, ..wrecks and reefs, ...way , WAY past the Gulf Stream ...and out to the most fish-filled structure and habitat any real fisherman could hope for!

 The effin' MID-ATLANTIC RIDGE !!!

 A freakin' underwater mountain-chain!...Nearly virgin grounds!  (.. if it wasn't for that crazy old buzzard Jacque Cousteau! ) Filled ..with HUGE  fish!...some you never even heard of before! Most of them granders! We caught marlin, sailfish, tuna and every variety of grouper you can think of ,.. and ruddy red snapper the size of Volkswagens! We got monster looking fish with bugged out eyes and like twenty rows of razor  sharp teeth!  We snagged some Giant Squid that were bigger than the boat...and they  tried to eat the damn thing with all of us in it! We broke out some machetes and hacked the tentacles off the things....and saved them under the deck for some big-ass calamari when we got home. We tied 6 or seven marlin on to the sides of the boat cause it was getting too crowded in there. It's a funny thing though....we didn't see no sharks.  Maybe they stay away from the fishmonsters out there that got more teeth than they do! We started using the 40 lb. tunas we caught for live bait ...   and dropped a coupla  hundred pound squid to 2000 feet depth for the groupers. Luckily, we had brought along plenty of Mustad's Giant Demon 27/0 circle hooks. We shoved the monster fishes  all to the front of the boat while we fished the rear. The bite was ON!

Whoopeeee! Slam! Slam! The fish was pilin' up fast...and the beers were gettin' low. The 26' Mako was sitting well below the waterline..I wondered if we would have enough fuel to tote all these monster fish back through the inlet.

 Then, the worst thing happened! The boat started to take on water...and was slowly sinking!
 Four-thousand five hundred miles to this UNBELIEVABLE virgin fish-filled reef called the Mid-Atlantic Ridge ... and we didn't even have a camera!
 We started hoisting all those monster fish out of the boat as fast as we could!...but the boat was sinking ...and sinking fast!
 "Death at Sea" nightmares started to fill my head....and I stopped hoisting the fish over the side and grabbed a cold beer that had been sloshing around in the water-filled boat...  stuck solidly in my peripheral vision and never out of my sight.

 It was a lost cause. We were all gonna die!... and I might as well have a beer while we're goin' down. I squeezed that can of Bud Light directly into my gullet ...and watched as my panick-stricken brothers and neighborhood friends feverishly hoisted our tremendous catch over the side of the boat!

Then, I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable to happen.

 "Jesus? Dear Jesus?" I thought silently...."Do you remember me way out here? I love ya! And I'ma comin' home..."

 I squeezed my eyes tightly and waited for my little prayer to make it to Heaven. The screaming noises of my fishing crew slowly faded into oblivion as we sank.

 It was taking a little longer than I thought it would so I popped my eyes open...just for a second...to see how much time I had before Jesus smiled, patted me on the head, and handed me my new fishin' rod as I passed through His Pearly Gates.

" Holy S*&t!! "  ( sorry for cursin' in Church, brother Jesus). My little 12' aluminum boat was filled with water up to my kneecaps, and I grabbed my 5-gallon mullet-filled bucket and started bailing! I REALLY WAS SINKING!.

 My two trout and my redfish , if they could actually do such a thing,...seemed to look at me like I was a dumb-ass as they slowly swished their tails and swam out of the sinking boat. All I could think of to do...was ABANDON SHIP! ABANDON SHIP! ...and I jumped out of that aluminum clunker and into the Halifax!

It was only 3 feet deep.

 I think maybe Jesus let me catch all them fish....them marlins...and groupers...and snappers...and all of them crazy tooth-filled creatures that most of us had never even IMAGINED existed. Then, I think maybe Jesus woke me up in time to go to the 'real' Church....with my wife, and kids, and my dear sweet old toothless mother-in-law.....

About 3-minutes into the preacher's sermon, ...my head started to nod...and  I was back at my own little Church on the side of the oyster bar on the Halifax River...remembering  the time we trolled that "Mid-Atlantic Ridge"!!
 ...the most unforgettable, unbelievable fishing trip in my whole Budweiser-filled life!

Willow Woods

                                           

In the deepest darkest depths of willow woods
Where trees shiver
Where birds never fly
Where leaves don't fall but just rot away
on lingering limbs
I sat myself against a musty molded
trunk of wooden planet
No shimmering wet leaves to arouse my sullen eye, ..  just darkened silence
and the deafening sound of nothing.
If I screamed I'd shatter this world,
but only for a moment,
until it's motionless shadows shoved the muffled sound back
into my pounding heart..
In the deepest darkest depths of willow woods
Where sound is mute
Where rain never touches the rail-rooted ground
Where only darkness survives
and loneliness seldom visits
I wait..........

Bass Pro Shop's Ascend 12t Kayak with YakPower, Setup and Review

Trolling motor setup was an improvision. I had made a small transom for a very short -shaft (18" ) trolling motor, that I intended to have slide in and out of a couple of track mounts I had installed on the rear, for easy removal. Track mounts suck. Ended up buying a small and a medium cutting board at Target, and attaching two "L" brackets to them , and attaching the larger one to the kayak. Epoxy painted the two steel "L" brackets to prevent rust. The intention was to be able to "easy-off" the whole set-up with some screw-on 'yak attak' knobs. Yeah, it'll work....but I found that the transom hits the waterline in the back, and creates a little drag. Not much, but...
It's in a constant state of improvision...but next time, I will probly just cut the lip and transom vice bolts off the trolling motor....and attach the flat piece of the original trolling motor mount directly to the kayak.
With this particular kayak....which was one of those "bass pro shop" Ascend 12t with yakpower....I have it to found to be a little cumbersome.... and the hull materials and design a little cheap and inadequate.
I bought it because it has almost a "tri"-hull and is pretty wide....and thought it would be good for standing. For that, it fits the bill. Pretty easy to stand in! However...it gets heavy! It has a 350lb max capacity rating...but the kayak on its own weighs in at a hefty 96lbs. Add trolling motor (25lbs) , battery bank (50 lbs) , cast net, bait well with water, fishing rods, tackle box and equipment, anchor and rode, safety equipment, required navigational lighting, plus my rather large and ever growing arse ....the thing starts to look like a Chinese Junk making it's way down the Yangtze River! The KISS ( Keep-It-Simple-Stupid ) intentions of kayak fishing eventually morphing into a cumbersome chaotic line entangling nightmarish mess at times.
Don't get me wrong...the trolling motor is AWSOME!..., and incorporates that lethal stealthiness required for sneaking up on the fish in the skinny water! Especially nice with the "hands free" steering! It's a great setup, for sure. But is it still a kayak? Sometimes ponder that question.....

Elrok Movie Review: 'ADRIFT'

Chick-Flick WARNING!!   Chick-Flick WARNING!!

Estrogen producing males prone to tearing up in movies .....or men who take bubble-baths alone:

DO NOT ENTER THE THEATER!

Let's just say...you were stranded at sea  and starving,  and you somehow stumble  across a life-saving 32 oz. jar of SKIPPY BRAND PEANUT BUTTER!.  Would you eat the whole jar yourself,  or would you share?

The main female character in this movie DID NOT SHARE!

This startling revelation made the movie an unhappy one, and  'took the wind out of my sails'  ..making me want to leave the theater.

There was one great giant rogue wave though,  which was pretty cool....

This movie was based on a true story. 'The Truth" :  She ate the whole damn  jar herself :(  !

Go see it with your girlfriends. Guys...bring your own jar of skippy and sit way in the back.

Elrok Soapbox! Obscure Recurring Theme # 4706

Obscure recurring theme #4706: 
Bill Clinton.
Was it really such a big deal that he ruined Monica Lewinsky's beautiful blue dress? While he is being publicly humiliated, by bull@#$ that has nothing to do with his Presidency....he feels the need for a major distraction to take the heat off. So, he sends a volley of missiles into Iraq in a stunning display of American power and prowess! 
In the meantime....battling the distraction of the soap opera the American public pines for in their politics....he and his FBI and CIA buddies are completely oblivious to the already 18 months in the planning...9/11, and the third-time successful takedown of the twin towers in New York City.
Now, the obscure recurring theme here....is that Donald J. Trump might very likely make an announcement in a few hours...of the military action he will take against the Russian backed Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad. The potential is a nightmare none of us want to have.
Distracted by some crazily instigated "Russian Collusion" probe.....and perhaps subconsciously creating a distraction from the soap opera that the American public pines for in their politics!
God help America :(
Did a guy with 10 billion dollars have sex with some ho's? THAT.. seems to be the pressing question at home here in America. Truly sad.
In the meantime.....what might we really be missing, ... as we willingly mire our President in complete and utter soap-opera bullshit as he is trying to comprehend world events?
I am not disappointed in Trump, or in Bill Clinton for their perceived inadequacies or failures while trying to protect America. I am disappointed in the American citizenry themselves...as they succumb to the sensationalized antics of a propagandized press, and lick their chops for fake news, lies , and juicy gossip ...as their Rome falls around them.

How I Met My Boss

  How I Met My Boss..

Well, it wasn't a handshake really.
 I was running late on my delivery route...and so did not take the time to empty my bladder from the four sixteen ounce bottles of Mountain Dew I had drunk in order to jack myself up enough to get back on time,  and 'perhaps'... avoid  the ire of our contemptuous leaders.

The problem:.... I really, REALLY had to go!

For about five hours straight!...

Rolling beads of sweat covered my upper lip...and I could feel my blood pressure reaching stroke levels. On the last mile of my return , my reassuring mind started telling me how "it wouldn't be long now"...and my body had started to slowly let itself start the countdown to the 'urinary release' in the bathroom back at the office.
 When I got back, I parked the truck...and wasted no time in a fast-paced (but bladder controlling ;)  scurry to the restroom!
Nobody was around, so I had already started the process of unzipping my fly and unbuttoning my trousers.....as I busted through the bathroom door! 
.... My pants were unbuttoned and my fly was down as I feverishly reached in for the ...'final withdrawal'....at the urinal. 
Just I burst through the door, I ran straight into my new boss , who was RIGHT THERE!....kneeling on the floor ..and  tying his shoe.
I will end the story there...

The Clutches of Hope

There are times,  when "Hope"...should NOT spring eternal..
"Hope"...can sometimes be a dangerous detachment from reality!
Hoping that he will change...
Hoping that things will be different someday...
Hoping that the toxicity in your life will someday magically disappear..
Hoping that a personal  saviour will come someday to 'fix'  things..

Sometimes HOPE,...  is an exercise in futility.  It can keep you from taking the necessary actions that  invoke real remedy.

It's time to let go of these things that hold you.
It's time to leave the things that keep you here.
Help yourself end...the struggle that gets you nowhere!
   This security of hope, will end in despair!
Daylight comes,  and you close your eyes...and dream of night forthcoming.
And when night comes...you dream again!

Precious hope is just a dream that gives you immortality..
This hope that only muffles screams...screams that are reality!

Feel your fingers slipping from the clutches of HOPE!
   What happens when you lose it?
            Time passes while you wonder.
             Time stands still while you wait.
It's time to let go of the things that keep you here...to leave the security of hope..

"Not Jesus" Jesus Lessons: Why Some People Should Never Quote Jesus...

'Not Jesus'  Why Some People Should Never Quote Jesus:

"So I say to you, Ask and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you."  ----  Jesus
   
 ' Not Jesus '  >> : "Knock and the door shall be opened..!"

(I have had this one chimed to me many times,  when somebody is holding a door open for me.) 
Thought balloon:  ' Does he think he's Jesus Christ? ' 
 Maybe I should take him to the beach with me tomorrow morning...so I won't have to use the bridge when he parts the Halifax River.
 Whoops!   Guess he'll have to believe that  he's Moses if that happens. 
But,  we can park the car and walk on the water together over the river and  to the beachside! )

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye. shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: 8 For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh. findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."---  Jesus

' Not Jesus '  >>:   "Ask and ye shall recieve....!  "   

( I have had this one declared as someone finds something I was looking for,  finds it,  delivers it to me.... as if he is Jesus ...delivering my poor wretched soul from the pains of my loss and into eternal blissfull heaven.)
  Thank you,  fake Jesus...but your finding my lost keys was not a miracle.
  Jesus only hands us keys to Heaven..  
 And btw...."Ye"  ....  yeah,  well....it aint a word no more.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me."   ----Jesus

' Not Jesus '  >>:  "Let not your heart be troubled"   

 ( Sometimes...this one actually prompts me into a short prayer!...as I exalt :  "Oh God!"...with and exasperated eye roll.)  
Thank you,  fake Jesus...for your profound empathies... as you cast aside my pain and troubles as utter frivolity. 
  What you really mean is...."Let not "MY" heart be troubled...because,  I'm not really even sure what you just said...but it sounded painful , and maybe this Jesus quote will stop you from making me feel any of it"....

And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.-------Jesus

' Not Jesus '  >>:  " Well,  ya know...people in glass houses..."   (unfinished open phrase)

( I have had this one 'thrown' at me....but, less like a stone....and more like a pointy poisoned arrow,  meant to pierce the soft armor of my diatribal commentary...and kill the evil inside of me ) 
In other words: summarily discount it...  as if my often accurate  caricature of the meathead I just described...should somehow, make me take a look inside .....with a humbled tone of introspectiveness.  
 I think he meant to say... 
" Your a meathead , too!"  
Thanks,  fake Jesus. 

Yep...there are more...
but the point is...I think in order to be allowed to quote Jesus....you should have to take "Jesus Lessons" first.
 Maybe harness some real love and empathy...a degree of 'foresight'?.. if not prophecy? 
A little learn-ed 'tact'...  and ...maybe muster some humility in realizing even if you 'speak Jesus'.....you are still, ....
                                  
                              " Not Jesus " 
  

Babe, I won the lottery when I met you!~

Babe, I WON THE LOTTERY,  WHEN I MET YOU

Now git your ass outta my car !

You thought you had me, but you had no clue.

I'm rich now and your ass just won't do.

 Yeah,  I won the lottery when I met you
 so I bolted! ,  Ran right out  the door!
 Don't worry none baby,  youll find someone new
Now pick your jaw up off the floor

Thank you dear LOTTO for making me rich
so I won't have to settle for that tired old bitch
I'll find some sweet girl who loves me and my money
Who'll laugh like crazy though my jokes arent that funny

Yes, I won the lottery..when I met you
It's sad, but now your ass just  wont do.

Better Left Alone

Do you understand that silly smile

on his face tonight?

He gazes with an icy stare

yet smiles.

You've always wondered about the irony in his face...

But never dared to ask.

Instead you chose

to rock the baby's cradle.


WAKE UP!  WAKE UP!....Or rock me back to sleep.

What are the secrets that some of us keep?



                  They are better left alone.



Rock the baby's cradle.  And whisper sweet dreams.

Sing a loving lullaby

to pacify the SCREAMS!

Rock the baby's cradle.  Put him back to sleep...

God only knows the secrets that some of us keep.

Sunglasses

It's cold outside---but I don't feel it.
  This shameless world has numbed my skin
    and turned my heart blue.
You give me your love---but I don't want it.
   This passing world has taught me that
    love is something we don't need.
The melody--is soft, and smooth, but
   it tangles with my electric brain
    and confuses me, and all I hear
     is static.
The flower's bloom---It's beautiful!--
  but my eyes pass right through it
    and all I see is shadow.
How pitiful it has become----so painful
that I can't see this world without
my sunglasses on.