The Red Moon Festival I

This from another book I'm working on. Enough about me personally for a bit. Let me know what ya think. This is a tale from another time and place.  -Paul 

  

            The Red Moon Festival was the final event before winter really set in. It was the last thing to look forward to before short cold days and long colder nights took hold of the entire realm. People gathered from both kingdoms to celebrate the peace that had come not so long ago. They had everything food, games, markets and members of the opposite sex. He had been going all his life and now he was old enough to participate in games of sport. Archery, hammer throwing and even wrestling had come naturally to him. It seemed he was gifted directly from the gods with both strength and even greater quickness. He came up just short in winning the archery contest losing only to Godart who was fifteen years older and highly experienced and battle tested. In wrestling, he defeated six out of seven opponents barely losing his last match. In hammer throwing he placed third among forty men. Not bad for his first time participating in the games. It was late afternoon on the third and final day and his efforts had not gone unnoticed. A late summer storm brewed in the distance.

            “It looks like you have a new admirer, young Ankius.” Ulric said nodding to a beautiful young blond maiden looking in their direction. Her dress suggested royalty.

            “I think she’s looking at you, sir. Who is she?” He good-humouredly answered his older and wiser neighbor.        

            “That’s Lissandra. She’s the grand daughter of King Adokhan and it has been a long time since I’ve participated in the games. You are the one she is interested in and your strength is no match for her my young friend try as you might.”

            “Let’s see.” He answered Ulric with a bright smile.

            Ankius tried to put on an air of the invincibility he had felt playing sport but his stomach was tied up in knots. He had to speak to her for she was the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen. She was just a year or two older than he was. How could he approach her and not look the part of the fool? But he had to try. He took Ulric’s words as a challenge and soon everyone would be leaving. It would be a long wait until next year.

            Ankius got an ale from a near by tent and sat down alone in the grass to think about how to approach the beautiful Lissandra. The breeze lifted his short blond hair and tickled the new hair rising on his face and the strong dark ale went right to his head. He could count the ales he had drank before in his life on one hand. He caught her glances several times since the challenge from Ulric. Each time she quickly looked away but could not hide her interest in the new comer to the games. Ankius could not find her in the crowd and his heart sank at the notion of having to wait until Maypol, the spring gathering, to see her again.  He downed the last third of his ale in one last sip and in a few minutes resolved to get another and look for his new love. She was walking towards him holding an ale in each hand with a nervous and mischievous smile. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him he thought. This could not be happening. Her beauty blinded him to everything else going on near by. The rowdy crowd noise faded and he could feel is tongue tying up along with his stomach.

            “You are Ankius?” She asked nervously knowing full well who he was.

            “Yes.” Was all he could answer.

            “I am Lissandra.” She handed him the ale.

            “Please to meet you and thank you my lady.” Ankius clumsily got to his feet and bowed politely. The first ale was even stronger than he realized. 

            “It has been a great first year of games for you.” She too was nervous and this made Ankius feel a little better.

            “Yes, thank you.” He was unsure what to say, not wanting to look too proud. 

            “Will you walk with me? There are some ancient ruins not far from here I’ve always wanted to see. Every year I come, I want to go see them but my nanny will not let me. She says it is no place for young ladies and perhaps she is right. For it is said ghosts from ages ago still roam the grounds wanting to take vengeance upon the living. I want to see if this is true. Will you come with me as my escort?”

            Not fully believing his ears Ankius still managed a strong sounding “Yes my lady.”

            “Meet me at the edge of the woods on the opposite side of the temple in fifteen or so minutes.”

“I will be there and we will go looking for ghosts my Lady.”

            “Meet you there and please call me Lissandra.” With that she was off.      

            It had to be a dream he thought as he watched her walk away. There was only one way to find out. Sipping his ale he realized he could not escort a young Lady without any weapons. Asking his father was out of the question. Ulric may be more agreeable and Ankius found him playing dice with friends.

“Ulric. May I have a word alone with you sir?”

‘What does a strong up and soon to be champion want with a poor old man?” He was several ales ahead of Ankius already.

“Please sir, just a moment.”    

“Gentleman, please excuse me as I see what the young man needs.”  

He followed Ankius a short distance.

“Well, what is it?”

“Lissandra wants me to escort her to the old ruins near by and I need a sward to be a proper escort. Do you have one I can borrow?”

Ulric let a loud belly laugh. “I don’t think she wants an old man’s sward my friend. You will have no problem there!”

“Please Ulric! I’ll bring it back.” Ankius missed the joke in all his excitement.

“Alright but clean it if you have to use it!” Ulric took off his belt and handed it to Ankius.

“Thank you Ulric!”

“Don’t get caught my young friend. We cannot help you against the king.”

“No worry.”        

Ankius ran to the woods not knowing if she would show or not. The two ales took their toll and he realized he had to relieve himself really bad. “Be quick!” He thought as he found a big tree. He would hate if Lissandra showed up right then. He finished and looked around and still no Lissandra. Time slowed to a craw and he watched all of the people singing and dancing ignoring the looming thunderstorm. Had she taken him for a fool he thought? He felt a touch of anger starting to build up inside like the distant thunderheads. If she had, there was nothing he could do. Giving up at last he slowly started back toward the gathering.

“Ankius!” A loud whisper came from behind him.

He turned and there she was. With the darkening sky, he could only see her outline. She took off her bonnet, let it drop to the ground and untied her hair and shook it loose. Giggling, she trotted off into the forest behind her. Ankius followed not too far behind. He could hear Lissandra but not see her and followed the sound of her playful laughter. Soon he saw her cape lying on the ground, then her sandals, her dress and her corset. There was nothing else to leave behind. His heart raced with excitement as he followed her laughs and excited giggles up a hill into the old stone ruins. Heavy raindrops started to fall and lightening flashed not so far away.  He saw her naked body bathed in the blue flash and she had stopped running. Ankius started taking off his clothes as he slowly approached. Lissandra was breathing heavy watching him close in ignoring the heavy raindrops and increasing wind. In a moment they stood before each other and Ankius embraced and kissed her deeply as the sky opened up a downpour.

She pulled back “I know a dry place close.”

Vacation With Tom and Uncle Ho Part I

Room with a View. 

            I received an email from an old family friend living in Vietnam asking how I would feel about a southeastern Asian vacation. I liked the idea! The great Bulgarian adventure gave me all the confidence I needed.  Also, I knew Tom since I was a little boy.  He was a three tour Vietnam Veteran.  He had always wanted to revisit Vietnam and in 2004 he went back. He decided to stay.  Tom invited me to come see him in July, 2005.  A few weeks later I Arrived in Saigon, now officially renamed Ho Chi Minh City. I learned a lot more about barriers in Vietnam. It is not what we would call “handicapped accessible”. The people however made the difference. Whatever help I needed bystanders gave me, and many times they did so without even being asked. I have always heard about how Asian people shunned the handicapped.  My experience was the complete opposite. I don't think what I heard was completely untrue.  I know a large part of how I was treated was because they perceived me as a rich Westerner.  During this first trip, I received at least three marriage proposals.  Two of the ladies were pretty cute and the third I think was old enough to be my grandmother. No thanks. Vietnam turned out to be more challenging than Bulgaria.

Getting Our Food On.  

The trip getting to Vietnam is much longer than going to Bulgaria.  From when I left my house here in Greensboro, to the small hotel in Ho Chi Minh City took about 28 hours.  By the time I got there, I wasn't quite sure of my name or even what day it really was.  If Bulgaria was a different culture, Vietnam may as well have been another world altogether.  I sure was glad to see Tom and his entourage of Montyards and Vietnamese at the airport.  We squeezed into a taxi and headed to the hotel.  Even traffic is different there.  Most people get around on bikes and scooters, rain or shine.  There are thousands of them mixed in among cars, buses and trucks.  All the way to the hotel I kept thinking we were going to hit one of the scooter riders. The other big difference is the use of horns. Here, we use horns to sometimes help avoid accidents but more often when someone pisses us off. The horn is usually followed by gestures ad shouts to make the other aware of our displeasure. The horn has an all together different role in Vietnam. There it serves much the same purpose as a sonar. The horn lets others know where you are. Honking the horn every minute or so lets the slower riding scooters and bikes to move over. It also alerts drivers to others in their blind spot. It is loud and busy. One nice thing is there are no worries about winding up in a shoot out over being cut off. The whole mentality is different. It is not an all out free for all competition. People are simply trying to get where they are going. Owning a gun there and getting caught means a nice long prison sentence. I don’t think they have any interest in owning guns. The streets seem bust and chaotic but completely lack the fear factor we have grown accustomed to here in America. I had the added advantage of having a local guide who had local friends. 

Jungle.

*** Tom had already scouted for a good hotel that I could get in and out of pretty easy.  When we got there we had a few Heineken's and talked for an hour or two.  It was midnight there but my body was saying it is noon. It had a surreal dreamlike quality to it. It took me a few days to get my sleep right and know for sure the day of the week. The time difference from where I live is 12 hours and that take some time to adjust to. The diet is also very different but not as much as one might think. I usually ate eggs and toast for breakfast and similar food to what we eat here for lunch and dinner, assuming a healthy diet. I cannot use chopsticks and brought my own silver. It turned out I did not need to bring my own. Every place I went had silverware just for the asking. The hotel was easy to adapt to. On this trip, I got many more opportunities to learn how to get by in new places.  

Meeting Uncle Ho.

Introduction Draft...

Just a pic of a polar bear... 

 

From “He’ll Never Walk” to Hanoi.

Who is this book for anyway? Who should read it and why? How do I put it? “handicapped”, “physically challenged”, “differently abled”? I’m sure there’s a whole host of other politically correct terms I could come up with.  But here’s the deal, anyone with a physically noticeable handicap and those whose lives are touched by them can draw some things from this book. In writing this, I did a lot of soul searching and realized I may have a few things worth sharing. Much of it you may already know. Many people with physical disabilities are inspirational to others, enrich their communities and live truly wonderful lives. You may not agree with all the ideas I share and that’s fine. That said, I hope you will do some thinking about yourself and relating positively to others. If you know a handicapped person, hopefully you will come away with a little of our prospective of the world and even a better understanding of yourself. I write from my heart and I think many things in this book apply to a lot of people and I have had many good life experiences to back up my thoughts and ideas.    

Why am I writing this book? Well, I’ll tell you. One night I had just finished bringing in an oversized load of groceries after a long day at work.  After getting everything put away I was dead tired! There’s nothing unique about my experience or is there more to it than just another weekday?  I carried the items in small bags making five or six trips to and from the car.  Then one by one, I put each thing away.  I was also quite happy with myself. I do things a little differently than most people because I’m put together a little different. I’ve learned over the years through much trial ad error how to live on my own despite considerable physical limitations. It seems like knowledge worth sharing. It is more than just figuring out day-to-day tasks, I think it also takes a certain kind of attitude to overcome obstacles day in and day out. This is the most important message. Slow down, take each problem one at a time and create the necessary steps to overcome it.

Uncle Ho's Monument, Hanoi Vietnam 

Once a guy asked me to describe my condition over the telephone and I did not really know how to begin. Not because I’m shy about it or have complexes, rather I was just not sure how to proceed. There’s no good way to get it across. I really still can’t. But let me try. The Doc’s call it Arthogryposis Multiplex Congenita  (AMC) but I call it a bunch of conditions that they don’t really know what to make of so they lump them together. For some unknown reason the connection from my brain to a number of muscle groups do not work, so the muscles do not develop. It limits movement  in both my arms legs hands and even  my feet. My right leg is just a little shorter than the left but I can still walk fairly well just not real fast or too far. This will give you the idea, remove one shoe and walk around a little paying attention to your lower back. It’s a different way of getting from a to b. but it is doable. I also have what they call clubfeet. They are small and bend in toward the toes. It’s kind of a miracle I can walk on them at all but they get me around pretty well.  My arms are much shorter than usual and my hands bend in at the wrist. My hands are small and the fingers do not bend all that much. As far as AMC goes, my case is middle of the road. Some people have much more severe limitations than I do and have even bigger challenges to deal with. If you look up AMC on the internet you will not find all that much. It’s very rare. Because of that, the research dollars are not there the same as for more well known diseases such as Autism or Multiple Sclerosis. It’s not all negative physically for me. I have a very strong back and neck. A strong person can lift from laying on the floor on my back  to standing up the floor easily by simply putting their hand behind my head and standing me up like a 2x4!  I also know how to fall with out getting hurt (most of the time)! If I trip (which is rare thank God)) I turn on the way down and usually land on my back avoiding injury. Most look out in front of them while walking. I do also but spend about half the time watching carefully where my feet are going. If I fall where there is nothing like a chair or a couch around to pull myself up on I’m stuck until somebody helps me out. Believe me I’ve learned to be careful!  Yes, you can find me in a crowd real easy! I do stand out! But that’s not a bad thing really. It is all in how you use what you got.

Me a long long time ago and John's VW Van. Who is John? (He's in the book). 

Yes, I could lay out of work, collect some kind of disability money and be an alcoholic couch potato but after a week or so that would get old. Sad to say but our society would find that acceptable.  If you are reading this you likely already know how bad daytime TV is. So with the help of many others, I went out into the world,  got a degree in English and another in Aviation Management  for fun and then a Master’s Degree in Conflict Resolution. A lot of people age and start to slow down, settling into routines and schedules. For me it has been just the opposite in many ways. I’ve slowly learned how to do more things on my own, got stronger mentally and physically, and most importantly realized there is nothing more important than living up to one’s full potential. Yeah, I hope I have learned a thing or two about life worth sharing. In this world there is little we can accomplish alone. We all get help from others. But it all starts from with in each of us reaching out to others. We make the world we live in for good or bad, trust me on this one!  If you look for and always expect the worst in others, that is what you will get.

All good parents encourage their children to meet and overcome adversity in some way or another; sports, academics, art, community involvement and tons of other ways. My parents are no exception. They decided not to hide me away from the world but toss me in headfirst. I went to the same schools as my non-handicapped peers almost right from the start.

So why should I write a book if I’m like everybody else? I’m not exactly. Neither are you. Being put together a little different can be a great teacher and it has for me. It all starts from with in. What we make our world mentally it will be. Sure I get down from time to time but life is too short to stay down for long. Remember the two-year rule, if something has upset or offended you, will you even remember it in two years? If not, let it roll off and get on with life. Now just because I’m writing a book does not mean I take myself too seriously. I can laugh at myself also. I know I do not have all of the answers but perhaps a few. Please take a little time, kick back, relax and let us share a few thoughts, laughs and lessons about the world we all live in. I hope to help inspire other to reach their full potential, inform people and demonstrate how far we can all go with a positive out look and a little humor despite any challenges we face. Thank you and enjoy.

Clouds and moon, thanks NASA.

Redneck Golf

Most weekends my brother Chase and I would spend with my Grandmother, Mary Sue or as we all called her, Mazza. One probably should not compare other people to Jesus Christ but I’m going to anyway. In my eyes, she walked on water. I’ve never met a more loving, gentle, generous kind person in my life to date. She would do anything for anyone. She patiently looked after Bill, her schizophrenic neighbor for years without complaint, helped Mom take care of Chase and I and helped her sons whenever they got into trouble. I never herd her raise her voice in anger or say an unkind word about anyone ever. My Grandfather, Gilbert, was the same way according to Mom. He had passed away from cancer several years before I was born. Mazza was not rich but comfortable thanks to Gilbert who worked hard to support his family.

A typical weekend would go something like this. Mazza would pick Chase and I up from school and take us to her townhouse. Keep in mind this is the 70’s long before the internet, and only at the dawn of video games. We would play with toy soldiers, draw and watch TV. I still remember watching Walter Cronkite on the news, The Carol Burnett Show and of course Saturday morning cartoons. Later on we would watch the earliest episodes of Saturday Night Live. In the morning almost without fail she would make us pancakes topped with butter and karo syrup. That had to be the best breakfast in the world but perhaps not the most healthy. Often, we would see Bill.

Bill’s father lived in another state and would send money for him to live on. His father was a self-made millionaire who rose from floor sweeper to CEO of a corporation that’s a household name but will remain unnamed here. While Bill had serious mental health problems, he was absolutely harmless. When he was very young, he had been in a terrible fire that left his arms and neck severely scared. His torso may have been scared as well, but I never had an occasion to see. Bill was a lover of history, especially the Civil War. Many nights, he would take me on walks to the near-by convenience store, Parkway Curb Market or Duncan doughnuts a little further up the road. We had to cross at least four lanes of traffic or eight if we went to Duncan. Bill was very careful and we never even had a close call. He would buy me a soda or a doughnut and we would walk back all the while talking about The Civil War or guns. He was also an avid gun collector.

That’s right Bill collected guns, lots of guns. At one time he had over forty rifles, many of them very high powered.  Springfield .30-6, .220 Swift, Winchester 30-30 and a Colt AR-15 were some of the more notables in his collection. He may have been better armed than the Greensboro Police Department at the time. But all he ever shot was targets. There was a gun range out in the countryside that Uncle Frank would take us to, (except Mazza). He and Bill drilled into Chase and I how to safely handle guns. Handicapped or not, I learned how to shoot.

The gun range consisted of a large field with some old wooden tables at one end and a tall dirt bank at the other. At its longest point, the field was about one hundred yards. I started out with a little single shot .22 that I still have to this day. I’d lay my rifle on a rest on top of a pillow and bend down a little to see through the sites and pull the trigger. I mostly shot cans about twenty-five yards away. I could hit them pretty easily. It was more fun to aim for where the can came in contact with the ground. If I hit it just right, I could make the can jump. In time I started to shoot the bigger guns that Bill had blowing up gallon jugs of water and the occasional soft drink. These were more of a challenge. If I did not position the gun just right against my shoulder, the kick would hurt like hell. Imagine getting a punch directly onto your clavicle.  Even writing about it hurts. Shooting .22’s was easier and a whole lot cheaper so we would save the big guns until we were close to leaving. Shooting pistols was a different story.

I could not hold up a pistol and shoot it the same was as most other people could. I had to put on the table and use the rifle rest. You may be thinking this would not end well with most pistols and I think you would be right. But Old Uncle Frank made a work around. A .22 was fine and for anything larger, we used a heavy pistol and a light load combination. A .44 magnum loaded with a much lighter .44 special round for example. Not being really able to shoot and aim a pistol limited the fun so I mainly stuck to the .22 rifles. But I can say I shot a .22 a .357 and a .44 pistol. The watered down versions of the bigger guns was a real eye opening experience. You feel the power through your whole body. A .44 magnum can easily go through several walls in a house and still be lethal. Even as a little kid, I knew what this could do to someone on the receiving end and never ever played with a real gun as if it was a toy. Chase and I had toy guns for playing Civil War, cowboys and Indians or whatever else came to mind. Real guns were strictly for supervised trips to the gun range.           

We were very young, perhaps only seven or eight years old. It was great watching Bill shoot his monster rifles because he could get pretty creative sometimes. After all, he invented redneck golf. He would take a can of soda, shake it up walk down to the target area and place a golf ball on top. He’d then shoot it with nothing smaller than a .30-6. The can blew up sending the golf ball a hundred feet plus into the air sometimes never to be seen again.  We called it redneck golf.                  

             

Disclaimer : It was fun shooting and all but I'm not a gun nut. I no longer own guns. 

Star Filled Night on Black Water

Going to the Optional School as a kid was great, we got to see up close what Mom and Dad did and meet some of their friends and co-workers. They had a lot of great friends but I have to say my favorite were Pam and Tom.

  

Now Pam and Tom were a different from most any other adults I knew. Pam was a teacher and Tom was a Vietnam Veteran, although only much later in life did I come to understand what that was and what it meant for Tom. Both loved the outdoors. They spent all their spare time, canoeing, hiking, or camping in any season or weather. They being close friends with Mom and Dad sometimes took chase and I along for outdoor fun. We would go to a nearby lake and jump in the canoe or kayak and off we would go. Pam and Tom saw to it we always wore life vests before leaving the dock. They were very responsible. The four of us would spend the afternoon paddling around. Backup… They would spend the afternoon paddling around and I would ride. Most often, I sat in the middle of the canoe between Pam and Tom and Chase would most often have his own kayak. To give me the experience of the kayak, they put me in one and towed me behind the canoe. I was much lower in the water and it was much lighter. I tried rowing but could not hold onto the paddle all that well. The towing option worked well. We would explore small hidden coves and shallow creeks feeding into the lake. It was always a blast. One evening, they took us out for a similar adventure only at night. It was unreal.

We got the lake right around sundown. By the time we got the car unloaded and got the canoe and the kayak in the water, it was pitch black. The water was as smooth as glass. Tom explained to us although we could see, we were required to carry a light source so other boats could see us. Chase carried a flashlight and we had a lantern in the canoe with us. Everything takes on a surreal yellowish greenish glow under lantern light. We only saw two or three other boats and they were nowhere near us. It felt like we had the whole lake to ourselves. The night was full of stars and there was no moon and the middle of the lake everything was still and quiet. All that could be heard was the oars going in and out of the water. Chase would get pretty far off and Tom would ask him to wait up. Our destination was a shallow creek going back into some woods. We went from one extreme to another. It became very claustrophobic with trees growing on either side of the bank, which was barely wide enough for us to squeeze through. A noisy endless song of crickets and other nocturnal summer bugs replaced the silence in the middle of the lake. We could not see beyond the yellowish green glowing trees or hear if anything was approaching our slow moving boats. I was excited, happy and even a little fearful all at once. We emerged at another place on the lake and rowed back to the car. The adventure was fairly short, perhaps just two and a half hours but it helped me to fall in love with the natural world. No amount of smooth floors and sidewalks could replace being on a still lake with friends in the dark.