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Name: Eric Country: China Birthday: 12/13/1983 Gender: Male
Interests: My neice and nephew, they are darling (there are only three people in my family that are privledged to have red hair, you guessed it...us--we're special), kids in general, ovbiously God and the Bible, the nations, mommy, school, a good book, poetry, movie, any kind of music, quality quotes, black and white pictures... The KC Royal's (loyal royal), cutting a rug, playing basketball, football (in the snow), raquet ball, ping pong, complaining, over cast days, yellow stars, white beaches, yellow snow, flip flops and rain drops...mormonism, coupons, electricity, indoor plumbing, central heating, plastic, duct tape, bug spray, alarm clocks, post-it notes, mag-lite's and smoke ditectors...bean burritos/mexican food, Mt. lightning, lil debbie cakes, krispy kreme, egg nog (for you bryan)... the color green, a good sermon, story telling and listening, singing (though I'm tone deaf), sarcasm...pedagogy, freinds (good ones not shallow ones), refunds and GRACE Expertise: Experts tend to be boring Occupation: Artist Industry: Hospitality
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website MSN: eric_allen83@hotmail.com
Member Since:
2/14/2004
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| (Old Jesus & Candy Bars) (My Boss’s Daughter) (The Bonus) (Tchaikovsky’s Playin’ in the Background)
If you didn’t know then I’ll tell you. I’ve found work at a dumpy little place called J’s Market. I’ve been working there for a couple months now; time sure can get away from a guy. I’ve been working for Kevin and Helen, a Korean couple. They are swell, they really are, a little corky but real swell. After talking about where and why I went to college Helen leans over and whispers in my ear, “the ‘J’ in J’s Market stands for Jesus.” I think she likes telling me things like that because when she does she gets this big o’ devilish smile on her face and all. Helen can be a little devil sometimes. Not the scary red horned Milton devil type, no, none of that stuff at J’s. She’s the good kind that’s always up to something funny and all. I sure do get a kick out of her.
I guess I work at Jesus’ Market. Let me tell ya, Helen’s a clever lady and all. And you would never believe me but behind the counter there is this picture of old Jesus laughing his ears off. I’m sure old Jesus would be the kind of guy standing around laughing his damn ears off. Though not all the time or nothing like that, old Jesus can be serious sometimes, like the most serious guy you ever saw, I mean real serious, but I’m sure he did a lot of laughing his big old ears off and all.
Around the time I started working for Helen and Kevin they let me off work so I could go to Church and old Helen told me that if I would have asked off work for any other reason, that her and old Kevin would have said no, but since I was asking off for Church they said yes. She told me that it was because they loved God. I nodded in agreement, I was off of work, I mean I love God too. And I do to I tell ya. I’m one of those guys that’s praying all the time, but don’t get me wrong I’m not goofy or nothing. Getting off of work was good and all, don’t think it wasn’t but when a guy gets off of work to go to Church he starts feeling bad for all those guys who can’t get off work and all. I think it’s weird how a guy will start feeling bad over something he can’t control. I mean I would have worked and all but I wasn’t in the mood you know, I mean you just have to be in the mood to work on a day when your boss lets you off.
Knowing that I went to a Bible college and all old Helen naturally thinks I’m a preacher. To think of it most older women do, you know the type they’re all very sweet and all but they go around saying he’s a preacher and then they start gettin’ jazzed about it. Like saying he’s a preacher is going to jazz anyone these days. Preachers are a funny bunch, I mean they are people who can be real serious one minute and then go laughing their ears off the next. Old Helen’s a sweet lady I tell ya. She went on to tell me that she’s been Catholic all of her life and now only recently her and her family have been going to this Protestant Church. All Catholics want to know if you’re Catholic. And all Protestants are going around trying to make you Protestant. I don’t like it much, though I’m not a sore guy and all, I’m really not. I mean I’m a protestant who likes the Catholic Church a whole lot. I mean I used to not and all. But then a guy grows up and starts liken all the damn Catholics in the world. So I told old Helen that I like the Catholic Church and she started getting all jazzed and everything and replied, “Then why don’t you become a Priest?” I didn’t have to think about this very long. I’m pretty quick on my feet sometimes. I told old Helen that I wanted to get married someday. She grinned about as big as old Jesus behind the counter was grinning and said, “O, very clever boy!” I got a kick out her calling me a clever boy and all. It was just the right thing to do. I mean when somebody calls you a clever boy you know they like ya. You can just tell when a lady like old Helen calls ya clever that she really likes ya.
She reached for her purse she had something to show me. Old Helen looked back at me and said, “I’ll show you a picture of my daughter.”
As I have said earlier Korean girls are proven to be the prettiest girls in the world. Hell if you wanna know the truth, I think all these pretty girls have it too easy in the world. They just go around hanging off the arm of some dope they don’t care too much about and all. But let me tell ya that old Helen is an attractive 49 and she’s about the only pretty girl in the whole world that’s not going around not working. So my expectations were high. “Ah, she is very pretty . . . I see she takes after her mother.” And let me tell ya, I wasn’t flattering Helen, I was telling the truth. Although I’m an excellent liar, I wasn’t lying. My boss’s daughter was as pretty as I’ll get out. I love pretty girls, I really do, I get a big kick out of em’ sometimes. That’s the trouble with me I’m always fallen in love with a pretty girl. But when a girl knows she’s pretty is about when I stop likening her. I mean I can know when she’s pretty and all but when she starts knowing about it then that sort of ruins it for me.
Like all mothers when you talk about their children old Helen was getting a real bang out it. Boy was I piling on. I sure do know how to pile it on too I tell ya. She was about knee deep in what I was piling on. Boy, was I given her the compliments.
Old Helen was having a good old time telling me about her daughter and all, “She’s 23!”
“Magnificent I’m 25!” I mean since girls mature faster than boys and all. At least that’s what all the Harvard phonies walking around with pretty girls on their arms making all the dough in the whole world say. Big deal.
Now at this point a guy has to be very careful with his words. Helen is still my boss. And it is her daughter who is a pretty damn good lookin. I came up with a plan. I’m full of plans. I dream about plans, I do. This one time in high school I told my mom, she’s great, about a plan of mine to get more sleep before school and all. She didn’t like it too much but I thought it was a great plan. My plan was to suggest that old Helen was an expert in Korean cookin’ which I’m sure she was too all these Koreans are good at cooking. I’ve never met a Korean that wasn’t good at cooking. And I was going to tell her that I had a knack for trying such things, which I do too. The second part of my plan was to meet the girl in the picture. I mean she was cute and all, but nothing to get too excited about. And then I heard the worst news a guy could hear. Rotten news. This news was so bad it made my chin hurt. It did too. I think it even made old Jesus stop laughing his ears off and all. She told me that her daughter is attending college all the way out in distant . . . faraway . . . long lost . . . at the end of the earth . . . keep going . . . California. I hate it when things like that happen. I mean what’s out in California? Not much I tell ya just a bunch of phonies going to college and all. If you wanna know the truth, news like that sure makes a guy feel lousy about himself. I don’t smoke or nothing, I don’t I tell ya, but I was sure wanting to light up a cigarette and all. I mean new like that’ll make a guy turn to smoking.
I recovered. I mean a guy has to recover after news like that, or he’s a phony and all, and will probably start attending college out in California or something crazy like that. I told her that I would be around in the summertime, don’t think I won’t either. Helen smirked. She knew what I meant. That’s the trouble with women they always going around knowing what you meant. All of em’ are goin’ around knowing what everyone’s meaning. It’s alright sometimes, but a guy has to be in the mood for it or it’s just a big bore when people are knowing what you’re meaning. I started wondering if old Helen’s daughter knew she was pretty or not. I mean if she does, she’s probably with one of those big hot-shot phonies making all the dough. No, I bet she’s a sweet girl because old Helen is about as sweet as they come. But we’ll see, maybe I’ll meet the girl after all, who knows? In the mean time I’ll work getting some food. I mean one out of two ain’t bad for a guy busy catching people out of the rye and all.
At Jesus’ Market we have an unwritten rule that says if you bring-in over fifteen hundred dollars on any given night then you get a bonus. I never gave it much thought because no-one has ever made over fifteen hundred dollars on any given night. I mean one night I came close with thirteen hundred and all but that’s far away from fifteen hundred when candy bars are 89-cents a piece, to know the truth, I think fifteen hundred would be a miracle for old laughing Jesus behind the counter.
So as you are probably guessing I made over sixteen hundred dollars the next night. I’m a real prince sometimes, a real prince I tell ya. I guess our candy bars are that good. And don’t think for a second that I didn’t hesitate to put a star and a happy face by the paper work so that old Helen wouldn’t overlook it or something like that. If you don’t use stars and happy faces every once in a while you’ll get lost in this big lousy world. Somebody will forget something about ya. Old Helen sure was smiling when I came in the next day. She was grinning from ear to ear like old Jesus. She was having a good old time. I get a big bang out of stuff like that. She said “very good! you made over fifteen hundred dollars . . . O so busy for you!” all with her cute thumbs in the air and all. She sure was having fun. She was elated and all. Elated, now I sure hate that word. But old Helen hardly ever gets sore about anything. She can be a real riot sometimes. Anyway it was a good sight for a guy that works at Jesus’ Market. She went on to remind me of the bonus policy, don’t think for a minute that I forgot about the bonus policy. Though I started feeling depressed about using stars and happy faces and all. But Helen didn’t care too much. She really is a good boss and all, I mean as far as boss’s go. But I was still unsure of what “bonus” meant. Really, it could mean anything around here. And when something can mean anything you sort of start going crazy and all trying to think of what it could mean. But you’re not going to figure it out, no-ones ever going to figure it out, I mean until it happens. Some things just happen and then you know that’s all.
But nothing happened. I mean nothing at all, I began work and she went home. I was left wondering about what bonus could mean. I was like a child before a wrapped present under a tree now experts say that the anticipation brings more joy than the actual receiving experience . . . I think that’s all a bunch of high brow Yale boy talk but I’m sure they’re all right guys and all, in their own way makin’ a lot of dough not hurtin’ nobody.
About an hour later the phone rang. “J’s Market how can I help you?” I always have to answer the phone like that. And I don’t like it one bit. To know the truth I hate it. I hate talkin’ on the phone at work and all it’s a real bore. It makes a guy feel like a real sonuvabitch sometimes. I mean it’s all right and all but you just have to be in the mood for that sort of thing. It was Helen on the other end. In her hurried accent she asked, moreover she demanded old Helen’s always demanding things but she does it in this real sweet way with an old Jesus smile and all. You can’t get mad at someone with a Jesus smile, especially old Helen. “What’s your pant size?” She wanted to know my pant size. My heart damn near skipped a beat out of my chest. This was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard of and I was gettin’ real excited about a new pair of pants.
The next day she waved a pair of dark brown shorts in front of my face and said with a big Helen smile, “Your Bonus!” If you want to know the truth, I thought it was a little cheesy and all but they were good looking shorts, they were too. I started feeling sad for every dope in the whole world who didn’t have great shorts like these. That’s the trouble with getting something new; you always start feeling damn near depressed for everyone who has something old. I wanted to give the shorts to some guy who had old raggedy shorts on and all. But I didn’t do that. I guess she was tired of seeing my shorts that I picked up three years ago on a sale rack at American Eagle. I don’t go shopping much, it’s the truth.
Helen is a very good boss, though not as good as old Laura Dudley who gave me food everyday of my poor life – I get a kick out of getting food when I’m poor and all, if you’re ever downtown Joplin, MO stop in at Columbia Traders for lunch and coffee. To know the truth I usually hate phony plugs like that, but sometimes I surprise myself and throw one in there every once in a while.
When I made it home I told my roommates about “the bonus” and joked while looking for money in the pockets. There was no money in the pockets but that would have made a guy feel swell about himself. Though I don’t care much for money, I really don’t. I don’t care if I make a lot of dough and all. I mean there are better things in the world like talking to some nuns about Romeo and Juliet. But let me tell ya these shorts were real nice, at least my roommates thought so.
The next night you can bet I was wearing my new shorts. I was looking good too, like a damn prince, I was. In my shorts I was mopping old J’s floor. I was gettin’ it real clean. To know the truth I was having a hellavu time too, because old Tchaikovsky was playin’ in the background. I’m crazy like that sometimes but it was real epic and all. A guy has to feel epic once in a while or he’ll start feeling lousy and about himself and the world around him. I was feeling good and thinking of how I was going put this into a movie someday; A twenty-something moping an old crusty floor at his old crummy job with old Tchaikovsky playin’ in the background, now that would make a great movie, though I don’t care much for movies. But this would be different, there would no phonies in the whole goddam thing, that’s the trouble with movies these days, they’re always putting phonies who walk around lighting up cigarettes fallen in love while saving the whole damn world. I mean every once in a while a guy has to play some classical music at a place like J’s Market or he’ll loose his brains, he will I tell ya. Hell, if you wanna know the truth, I think old Jesus would get a big kick out of a guy mopping a lousy floor with Tchaikovsky playin’ in the background. I was enjoying myself, I really was too I tell ya. I was thinking about meeting my boss’s daughter, commenting on how good old Helen’s cooking was and all. I am a good eater. I know how to tell someone when their food is good or not. Some guys are lousy eaters, but I’m not.
And then about that time a guy in a Mickey-Mouse tank top walked in like he owned the place, he really did too. I had to go and sale him a Schlitz (24 ounces of High Octane Malt Liquor). Normally I would feel embarrassed about a guy in a Mickey-Mouse tank top buying an old Schlitz and all but there was nothing phony about him, he practically owned the place by now, he really did too. I would have sold old J’s to him. If you wanna know the truth, that stuff just kills me sometimes. And there I go digressing again I’m always digressing. I mean it’s funny when a guy digresses he finds out what he really wants to talk about and all.
-e.p.allen | | |
| On May 16, 1842 a small group from Elm Grove, Missouri decided to go west. They had a path. They had food. They had oxen. Their wagons were covered. Their destination was 21 hundred miles away. Their path was called a trail. Their journey was arduous. Thunderstorms attacked the prairies. Snow iced the mountains. Animals were far from friendly. Rivers were swift and slashing. Cholera baffled them all. The stars were brighter. The sun was more intense. “The wind was-a-howlin’ and the snow was outrageous.” It was the Oregon Trail. The country was smaller and Manifest Destiny was in play.
People have made this journey ever since. So I talked to a friend of mine (Tyler) and we thought we would try our hand at pioneering. We thought we would journey the prairies and gallivant the snowcaps. We thought we would put our footprints on this trail called Oregon. We have no wagon. We have no oxen. We have a little food and a sackcloth (suitcase) of clothes and books. Our wagon will be will be hauled by a ram (that is a Dodge Neon). And our path is not called a trail. It is called a highway. We are young men going west.
They were the pioneers, we are not pioneers. But we are going to Oregon. To Portland Oregon sometime in the next week to live with our friend Solomon.
I want to read Kerouac, Steinbeck and Jesus and I want to listen to Springsteen, Dylan and Young.
If you are worried about the details, please don’t be. Your worrying won’t do any good. You can help us by baking us cookies (chocolate oatmeal raisin) and giving us rent money, but please don’t worry. I’ll be worried, if you worry, and I don’t want to be worried. So I’ll quote my boy Bob Marley in “Three Little Birds” when he says:
[I] Rise up this mornin', Smiled with the risin' sun, Three little birds Pitch by my doorstep Singin' sweet songs Of melodies pure and true, Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")
Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing, 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right." Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing, 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"
In the near future if you want to try your hand at pioneering, you’ll have a place to stay . . . unless of course, you act weird. Then think three times before asking.
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| Today my 84 year old grandma voted for the first time in her life. She grew-up on a slave farm in Mississippi and on November 4, 2008 she voted for a black man.
"My grandma Pauline" photo by Tyler Payne I am proud of her
e.p. allen
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| I'm disturbed.
I encountered an unfortunate today. Thomas. Thomas has no home. He has a bike. Winter is coming. Joplin is bundling up. He tells me a story. A parable of sorts. It goes like this.
Are you ready?
A man is on a journey. The man approaches a village and the people are jovial. The journey has taken its toll on this man. He is hungry. Thirsty. Tired. The man sees a wishing-well where people throw in money for fortune. The man approaches the well in hopes of finding money for food. He is hungry. There is no money.
Thomas says, “do you know what they call that?”
I say, “No”
With a smirk he says, “Wishful thinking."
Thomas pauses before he asks, "do you get it?”
“hmmm . . ."
We were in a local restaurant. I see him in this restaurant often. But he never buy’s anything.
At one point in our conversation I watched his eyes instinctively dart between the trashcan and a food-tray. A neatly dressed couple was throwing away their trash. Was this what he meant by “wishful thinking?” Did I tell you that he never buy’s anything.
He proceeded to tell me how when he leaves places. And sees people coming inside he throws them off by knocking on the door from the inside as he is leaving. Because, for him, he is going home. His home is outside. Winter is coming. Joplin is bundling up. He has a bike.
Unfortunate.
I don’t know Thomas very well. Maybe you know him better than I. I’m wishing that someone knows him.
I'm reminded of a quote that I read awhile back by I.S. Olifier who was a survived the Gulag’s of Eastern Russia he says, “Hunger - this is not only a feverish dream about food, but a brutal nightmare of fear.”
e.p. allen | | |
| Ring them bells little one Ring them bells The pounding ocean came between us The day you drew your first breath I caught whispers (traces) of you glow Your legends have been told Delicate your frame must have felt Your whimper must have hushed them all Love knelt before you A brief candle you were Blazing warm and true The prophets were right Time could not hold you You made the world blush Your tenderness was more than it could bear Ring them bells little one Ring them bells Your pictures hold us still Your memories bring us near Tell me little one Do you dance from star to star? Do the birds chirp at your command? Is it true, that the comets twirl in your hand? I bet your giggle resounds soft and true We will always remember you Ring them bells little one Ring them bells --E.P. Allen | | |
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