The downstairs "rachel" was bitching about day sleepers when the guy at the Embassy Suites was doing his leaf blowing thing. It was 11am and I was doing whatever....when she was yelling of her balcony downstairs.
I was just getting the news LATE that the Kiowa Chief I called "Dad", passed away a day after I'd tried to call him. He was taking a nap when I called on the 8th.
...and our betters by extension. My teachers ROCKED...not perfect, but I defy any wisdom better than learning the difference between a good and a bad teacher from my own dinner table. If Howard wrote "Tangible Intangibles" in 1968, I've been hearing that argument since I was 3 years old.
And totally got it.
"Fuzzy Logic"? Dad made it a breeze.
I'm mourning a great man again. When the Kiowa family took care of me after the layoffs, when my bio-family couldn't be bothered, I tried to convert an old schoolhouse/chapel into a home for me and mini-me. I burst an appendix in the attempt....or it was that hotdog at the Comanche Nation Fair, but everybody but me would have guessed the horrendous medical treatment they dole out in Anadarko, OK. You can't hear or read about these things, you have to see it to believe it. Go figure me once removed from the "Show Me" state.
I'd been diagnosed with a severe case of sleep apnea in 99, when I FINALLY scored a gig with a PPO, but got laid off before I'd even finished arranging the house. My Reiki Master recognized the symptoms immediately when I fell asleep during a treatment. We knew something was wrong in the Navy, but they didn't know about it until the football players got it. My neck was normal when I met George, so I was only snoring by then.
(This is where I have trouble with linear timelines....it's a kind of dyslexia that happens when forced to work with no real rest. It attacks your waking life. I was borderlined narcoleptic and the surgeries failed miserably. (tonsils and uvula were removed so I can't speak proper French anymore) As it turns out, Native languages are nasal and my cheekbones are a bit high. JW Ramsey's name is in the blue roll book, but our folks were labeled, "colored".
So, I passed through a dead zone (speed trap) called Blackwell, OK. It used to be a mining or oil town. That would be our Lexington, MO folks.
Carnegie, OK is the home of the Kiowas.
Billy Evans Horse's sister and her Cheyenne husband, Woody Whitecrow had me over for a visit. I took them as my folks the following year, but when we went to visit, Veronica and I rolled in just ahead of a BIG storm. It was my first time seeing such a show in such a huge sky! Even bigger than Kansas!
I still had a job when I visited, but moved there after I got laid off. There was no room at any of the Blackwell Inns. *cough*
Having turned off my tunes for baby music, I'd turned off the radio for the baby, so I had no idea what Slash was doing, when I drove to Peabody, KS from Chicago, I met Mother's cousin, Billie Marie Hudson who mispronounced "Ketoowah" like we all do and I asked if she meant "Kiowa". They had a Mustang Only car shop, so that's where we took my '83 Mustang GT 5.0 for that damned pall and quadrant problem. Veronica played with the kids and I went crazy over her photo album. She gave me duplicates, but I meant to return them after they'd been scanned. She was mourning the death of her husband, and we fit as much visiting as we could before heading out.
We'd already been to Cherokee, NC and Etowah Mounds (where something weird happened). We'd watched the Leonids outside the gates of those burial mounds that look like Egyptian pyramids with the tops cut off. Oddly, the Cutthroat Gap massacre happened during a Leonid year, just like that one.
The same end of days talk was going on when we lived in Miami, when that rock hit Jupiter. Veronica was into Sailor Moon and Venus was blindingly bright.
I used to doodle that sacred geometric shape when I was growing up.
I knew Geometry well, I tested badly and Algebra was worse. They were too linear and no matter what I did, besides sleep through class, I tested badly. My best friend's Aunt Marjorie Jones, was a "Spaulding", and was a retired teacher at Tasker Elementary School. I attended Martin Archbishop Spalding High School where bullying laws hadn't reached my school bus.
When I left in 1980, they were talking school vouchers, the entire bus knew how to pronounce "Oprah Winfrey", but that's about all I could do for them and went to Bowie High dressed like she-Carlton. My Church was the same as Ga-Ga's, Sacred Heart Church. The pastor, Father John Hogan, was a forgiven chain-smoking, alcoholic from the old school where we were known as "The black spot" on the congregation. I didn't know about that comment,, but figured it was what made me cry out, "What Time is IT?!" and the babies cried, "It's CLOBBERIN' TIME!"
I knew the family was not just pressed for time when I loaded my diaper on the way out the door. Mother used to say, "Thar she BLOWS!" and we'd be late for mass. I forgot about why they were so spastic about diaper disposal. They were concerned about DEMON worshipers stealing my diapers to do satanic rituals with my poop! We had to be careful of deviants who were jealous of who I could turn out to be, considering the star chart I was born under. Father's Day, 1965, born at GW Hospital makes me an 11-22-33 and people were afraid of what an early reader/talker..... the genetic recessive would do if she were born to TWO geniuses. The odds were looking bad for a Black Republican from SE DC, integrating Levittown So George left the Skins (not talking about it) and helped us move in. They can say what they want about what a fetus hears and knows, but I knew George's voice IMMEDIATELY when we first talked in Chicago. When I got to Blackstone, I'd already rejected Keynes and he taught me why. (second-hand degree in finance), but there were FOUR college degrees under our Levittown roof and George was not missed by nosey neighbors playing "Where's George" with the Washington Post.
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