beyond the grave like lazarus

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star wars and out of sorts 60th birthday

BACK FROM TEXAS, Back from the Family as your Dad turns 60, and it makes you that much older, Back from my Mom's gray haired Hippy friends, back from being drugged up at STAR WARS, back from that little boy again, that little monster as you played Batman and Mr. Freeze as he has grown up and talks to you about “I built Mamma a new apartment, but it's on fire, and I have the firetruck right here to save it.” back from that Train that you rode through that park in San Antonio where that little boy was trying to stick his head out of the train and get it knocked off, back to feeling hungover as you met your Dad coworkers at his new job at the Texas Government where they are young and millennials and the little boy was kissing the Hispanic secretaries, and a nice restaurant where your non stop Mother got us reservations a place with no kids menu as the little boy played on his Ipad and we worried if he was going to tear up the place, Back from the place where you Grandmother isn't around anymore except in the ground over by the park where that train was riding around over, back from your Moms Hippy Friends that came to the 6oth birthday party and are still in Bands, as they played their guitars in my moms new swanky apartment with the older wealthy country people who probably didnt like these guitar playing hippies playing like it was outside at a campfire, and they were handing out pot brownies and drinking whiskey, and once again you went on the BINGE, and you couldn't help yourself, you told yourself before you went, that you didn't want to drink that much or get messed up, but it didn't help yourself with your anxiety that comes out in your drunken life of the party redneck self that binges to hide his insecurity and his golden god syndrome, but my bored Mother who has retired from her job and moved back to the great red state of Texas has been bored lately I think since she has moved back into this next realm of her life, that aging realm, that retired realm, but in her boredom, she through a surprise birthday party for my Dad who doesn't really go for that type of thing, but will indulge her, but with my mother is always turns into some kind of reunion for her old college friends and it was a strange mix at my dads birthday party, there was his side of the family who I hadn't seen in two years maybe, they’re a bit more conservative, a bit more so called Texan, my crossed eyed older Cousin with a drinking problem with his older women who always take care of him, “Its nice to see you, Ryan. How long has been damn it. You got to come up and see my Spread. I'm telling you it's damn nice up there.” and meeting his new girlfriend who had just gotten over Cancer with thinning hair and a supporter of Donald A. Trump, but it didn't matter that night because everybody put all that away for just a little bit, and my Moms old College friends, what an assortment they were, bringing there guitars, with there long gray hair, now college professors, and there was one of her friends his name is Derek and I new him since I was a kid, and used to take road trips with my parents, and shorter guy, with a soup patch underneath his chin, a musician, who plays the accordion, and the guitar and every year holds soiree in Big Bend National Park in the Desert, and he speaks real slow, but I always had good memories of him but that's all they were was memories really, because I don't know him anymore really, because were talking about things now and not when I was a kid, talking to this binge drinking Redneck kid grown up, but its just like were strangers in a way, because in a way i'm strangers to all these people, because i just don't see them that often, as it started off kind of awkward but then everybody was mixing together, as the alcohol was flowing, and they got out the guitars, and my moms friends were passing out pot brownies, as we listened to their music as they serenaded us with their guitars like it was a hippy shindig out in texas, and with your drunken self, talking big to your cross eyed cousin as you sang and let yourself go in that hippy serenade with the accordion, and in the circle as you hung out with your moms friends on your Dads 60th birthday party, and you told stories, with your crossed eyed redneck cousin and his new girlfriend, and your lesbian cousin who went on the Oprah show, and your other cousin who had been in prison on meth charges but has two good kids and works for a trucking company now, but we were telling stories and that's what they do, in between binges and addictions and so forth, and lesbianism, you have those memories, and its good to get around and tell some of them, some of them you never knew before or never heard before, like my Dad finally opening up about his own Dad, and telling some of those horror stories about how his Mother and Dad fighting when they were drunk all the time, and in the military, I always thought of it kind of like the Great Santini or something, but maybe not quite that dramatic but maybe a little bit darker, but its good to hear those things so you can put your identity quest back in order, and think about those things about your identity through your Dad and his wayward family of addiction and madness and stories, but it was all mixing together at that little shindig in their new apartment, as my Mother begins her pseudo retirement and boredom, and my Dad struggles to fit in with his new job being the old man manager trying to deal with those millennials who have their own schedules and their own way of doing things, at his job at the Texas Government and water management down on the San Antonio River, dealing with the youngsters with their arrogance and their creativity, but it was all mixing together at that party, and people put away all their non sense for one night, all their anger, and their politics and all that jazz, to eat pot brownies and sing music with guitars and accordions, and I talked to those aging Hippies who were all about California and the West, and some of them were College Professors, and Teachers, and they have an album and they are still doing there thing, as we sung like we were in choir with those aging hippies and that addicted family from my Dads side, with those people for Trump, and those for Bernie, until my Dad got tired of all that folky music with guitars and I passed out on the Couch, till out of sorts from just getting off a plane, and coming into town, and then when you woke up and that little boy was there playing with his toys and playing his imaginary games, just like you and your brother did back in the day, and now since my mom has moved back to the promised Land, her own personal place of Heaven that state of Texas, she has another job, beside trying to write some book on what she did her Thesis on in History about some rancher out in West Texas, a real hoot as they say, some real character out there in the middle of nowhere, but now it is her job, to take care of that boy, be his teacher and his day care, and god bless my moms soul she has as much energy as that boy does, and more, dragging him around to all kinds of places day after day, and probably seeing things he never even dreamed of, because most of the time, he just sat around with my brother who did his homework and sat in his haze, but was more of a home body, and doesn't get out much sometimes, so my mom is showing that boy the world now, and he sleeps nice and easy let met tell you after a day with my mother, and she even took him with us when we went out to eat at some fancy mexican restaurant down in San Antonio where we went to see my Dads job, and meet all his Millennial coworkers, and we went to some place, where he usual goes with the bigwigs at his job, those higher ups, that actually my Dad gets along with better, because he is the same age as they are, and he has that experience that they have, so he gets along with them just fine, but not those Millennial folks like me or partly, as we led that little boy around at my Dads job, and all the secretaries were oohing and ahhing over him and giving him candy, as I talked to those Millennials or attempted to but I was a bit under the weather, from that night before, and from the weekend long binge I had on pot brownies but more on that later, more on my out of sorts state of mind later, more on my loneliness from my family later, and disconnect from another place, to another time later on, but as I lead that boy around with him holding my hand, as we went around and met everybody, and those Millennials who don’t like my dads old school managerial style, from a different time and place, but then we went to the fancy Mexican place where people were in suits and big wigs making deals, and there we were because my mom thought it would be a great place and it wasn't too bad, but there we were a hungover and out of sorts aging son, and the little boy in a place where they didn't even have kids menus, but we just gave him a IPAD, and they fangled up some high chair out of thin air, and he did alright and the food was good, and then we took him to the train ride that goes through a park in San Antonio and the boy does love trains, and it was a cloudy and overcast day, and my heart was kind of gloomy from what happened that night before, as that train goes around from the zoo to different stops like the botanical gardens, and maybe even over by where my Grandma is buried, and back to that time where my life got off that proverbial track but here I am, riding that train with that little boy, that great lover of trains, because we have been on a few of them now, and soon that will pass in the realm of memory, to be talked about at drunken parties maybe for the ones that are still alive to pass on those stories, because that's what its all about right, but I kept telling him to not stick his arms and legs out of the train before they get knocked off, as we looked at the trash strewn in the scrub oaks and the driving range where they were nailing golf balls in that overcast sky and that train even stopped so that teenager could make a fueling pit stop, like it was a real damn train, but that was what the boy wanted, on that overcast day, with your overcast countenance, hanging up in that sky somewhere, as you came back in that traffic and the boy slept, and you drove back to a place that was different now, a place that you didn't quite recognize anymore, that place where your Grandmother used to live, on an exit on that highway, that you don't get off on anymore, on that Highway 35 coming straight out of Mexico, you don't get off on that exit anymore, you don't see that house anymore, in the summer of green lawns, and your Grandmother with her cut off pants in 1950's style, and Ronald Reagan views, but its not there anymore, as you go back to that apartment that sits on the river like a retirement home for my Mother, and its just not the same anymore, and that was the theme for me at this 60th birthday party for my Dad in that new apartment, because that night before, we and my brother went to see Star Wars, and I had been waiting to see it forever and he had already seen it, so he was just going to see it again for me, and they have a new movie theater a Drafthouse type movie theater, where you sit and eat and drink and be merry, a very adult movie theater, where there is no commercials before the movie really, just funny you tube videos and made up stuff, and hipster tarantino type things, and it didn't use to be there, it used to be another movie theater there, a regular movie theater, where one time you had puked in it, because you had the flu, but it was different now, but the problem was those damn pot brownies those aging hippies and college professors had brought with them, you had been nibbling on them for a couple of days after that party, and you thought they didn't do much, and weren't too bad, so maybe you could eat a little bit more, just to see Star Wars, that movie that your mom had waited in line for back in the 70s, with those aging stars that came back for one more round, when my Moms friend s were young and in college, as that generation aged on the screen, and you were there with your brother, who you don't talk too much with anymore, and you don't see him too much anymore, and your out of touch with him anymore, who eats pot brownies like they were going out of style, but there you were trying to get some brotherly bonding, when it happened, you felt kind of funny in that movie theater, a little out of sorts, maybe its because I have been having more anxiety lately, when I had a sort of mental break down before, and thought you were dying, and going to the hospital and trying to find out what was wrong with you, and maybe those pot brownies didn't do you too well as you were sitting there watching Star Wars, in that movie theater, that used to be another movie theater, with people you didn't recognize anymore, in a place that wasn't that same, as you told your brother you had to go to the bathroom, but really you went outside and just sat out on a park bench outside of that movie theater where they have a bar connected to it, and you told the portly be goggled hipster that you were stepping outside and if that was ok, and that you didn’t feel well, and maybe you had that flu just like you had before along time ago, but you didn't really have the flu you were just tripping balls and had anxiety from here to eternity, as you sat that park bench just staring at nothing, staring at that parking lot that was only thing that was the same and calling up your girl that lives a million miles away and confessing you were messed up, and totally out of it, and feeling embarrassed, on that park bench outside, and her telling you to stay calm like this was some kind of freak out, and your brother in there just watching the movie, and wondering where the hell you are, as you walk to that bookstore they have and has been there forever, except that book store now is a kind of warehouse, almost like an amazon warehouse, which is a smart move, but this isn't any borders anymore, this is something else, as you thought maybe you were in the twilight zone as you were tripping balls, and out of sorts, on those damned pot brownies, a curse if there ever was one, a pox upon you brownie, but maybe it just wasn't the brownie per say, it was the state of your life, the state of change that never stops, it never rests, you never have time to appreciate it before it is gone, forever moving, like that plane you keep getting on, and every time you get off now something changes, and it hard to accept, but it is the nature of the world. You can never step in the same river twice, somebody once said. You can never go home again, somebody else said, but as you sat on that park bench outside that movie theater that had changed, tripping balls, and confessing on the phone with your long distant girlfriend. And paying your bill and not going back into the movies because you couldn't concentrate, and your brother kind of disappointed, but not really because he had already seen it, as you went back to that apartment and your Mom and Dad had a laugh about your brownie and Star Wars experience and you can tell what Generation that they came from, that Hippy Guitar playing and addicted broken family generation, but you had a laugh, and then you were back on that plane, back on the movement, back to the grind, out of sorts but just rolling with it, moving it with it, because you don't have a choice, as your Dad gets older, dealing with those millennials and your Mother retires to write about west texas hoots, and you brother is about to have another kid, and you there want stasis in life, a stopping of life, but it ain't going to happen my friend, and the boy who was a baby is talking about Mr. Freeze and Batman, and you know that you either get on that horse, or you get damned thrown off, and that's just the way it is, nothing more and nothing less, and you can't go home again for truth. So get on that highway or get off, that just the way it is.



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