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The Blarney Roost

Didn't start this until being inspired by my daughter challenging me to be what I always wanted to be. Sat down to write and was very surprised to have it take the form of rhyming verse! Have written hundreds since and hope to continue and make it my vocation. At last I have a novel published; "San Ernesto's Shadow"  available in the Kindle tablets, just Google the title to read all about it. Let this be a lesson to you all; NEVER STOP WRITING I have my parents to thank for me not being a great writer because they did all the right things in rearing four sons. Without abuse or perversion to warp our characters there is no dark well of horror to plumb for gripping attitude or outlook. Bereft of the requisite echoes of what seem to catapult novels to best seller status, I struggle with the handicap of a normal middle class upbringing. Well fed and fairly disciplined with decent medical care and twelve years of public school education I twist in the wind without an expose to shock, sadden or evoke sympathy. DAMN! What does that leave, acting out for attention? I couldn’t even manage a juvenile criminal record. There was a war on though and I answered the call to the colors marching off to Vietnam ( OK, via continental Airlines)with my chin held high. Three years later I returned without a scratch and an honorable discharge…just couldn’t do anything right. It wasn’t for lack of trying though, I remember hearing; “If you’re not on the edge, you’re taking up too much room.” So with a “ten feet tall and bullet proof” attitude, I set off on years of struggle to make something of myself. Drugs didn’t do it, couldn’t afford enough to get hooked, crime was not my ticket to notoriety; cold feet plagued even my finest efforts. Best that I could do was getting lost in Miami’s Dade County jail for ninety days on a misdemeanor traffic charge waiting to be seen by a judge who promptly turned me loose. Came close on a motorcycle though but landed in a soft shrub and dated the girl who pulled out in front of me for months. Being a bad boy was proving a tough nut to crack but I finally found something that suited my talents, even if belatedly. At age twenty seven I got married and became a bad husband, turns out I was a natural. Having a steady job didn’t please her, going to college on the GI Bill didn’t either, nor did being faithful, a gentleman and good father. After twelve years and three children I finally decided I had my fair share of abuse and quit being a bad husband. Wouldn’t you know though, failed marriage stories are a dime a dozen and nobody wanted to hear it. Every time I tried to tell it my listener topped it with an even better one of their own. So here I am, still looking for that edge to make my narrative stand out from the crowd. What follows is my take on things in general, seen through my eyes, skewed by the unique experience of not having a hard luck story to rise above. There is an attitude here, seasoned by over “three score” years of life and going after the last few. See if you can detect it, its pretty close to the surface in some places, I have nothing to hide. was granted non-exclusive rights to display this work
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