the beach, the past, the pine trees, the fork in the road and the conversation, …

as i was heading to the beach on the day of the many gulls and the CEOs of unlimited gall, i stopped at a light, looked up and saw this.
i stayed there long enough to take this picture;

i fumbled the way i always i do when the cellphone rings and it’s not already in my hand, but managed to get the shot as the cars behind me honked.  i imagined the curse words being flung in my direction, then thought maybe i’m the only one who does that.
this could be another subject to touch upon if we enter into conversation and not have those cryptic moments i’ve been having of late with that eduardo cianelli-sounding guy’s minions. i’m still waiting to get the line on the aliens who are snatching up humans and using them as batteries. i look behind me more often when i walk since getting that info, you betcha.
point of information;
i’ve been using “you betcha” long before the wicked witch of the yukon made it onto the national scene and i’m taking it back. i’m talking about that palin person.(obviously)
no one seeking political office should be permitted to use that phrase.
“folksy” does not and never should be on the political stage.
it’s “acting” and “making believe.”
tell that to the republican national committee.
eight years of a folksy someone as wasted as i am can take a toll on any superpower, believe you me.
politics makes victims of the strangest things.
keep that shit in hooterville.

…..that pic just reminded me that i liked the brunette when i was 12, but i digress….

i made it to the beach and walked along the shore.
i love the sound of the wind-livened ocean and the endless “woosh!” of rushing waves enveloping me. i hollered good and loud.
only the ocean heard me….. and it didn’t pay me no mind.
maxx kept running because the birds were everywhere.
when he stopped running after them, he turned and took aim at me.
i let him level me.
i could have dodged him but chose the risk of injury to myself and my camera.
that’s how i have fun, still…..sometimes.
that’s why i can’t be president.
i tend to be stupid and impulsive, which goes to my point about the last guy.
sometimes it’s a good idea. sometimes it’s not.
it’s something you shouldn’t do if you’re president of the united anything.
and on and on….
maxx and myself walked and walked until we reached jacob riis park

i once brought a cooler of champagne to this beach. i even brought chilled glassware.
we were very genteel.
we were reprimanded by the federal park police, but i could tell that they appreciated our “chutzpah“.

now i look and and try to visualize where i am in respect to the atomic weapons that were perched just of west of where i took this photo. i think it’s a matter of three or four hundred yards.


imagine that.
the top-left corner of this pic (above) is roughly where the previous picture was taken (shooting further away from that site).
from another perspective;
those missiles were about three hundred yards from the bottom of this picture;

i headed back along the paths in the army base. after passing the limited housing in the base itself (there’s a church, community house and theater, along with some baseball fields and such..), i let maxx go – he ran like the dickens

– the casual walk helped him to regain his wind after chasing all those birds earlier and the different environment offered endless possibilities. watching maxx run reminded me of being a child and running with all of my might for no reason other than the joy of running my heart out. i can hear the slapping sound that the soles of my feet would make on the cement walk that encircled riis park’s beach and how that sound would replace the the emphasis on running, eventually causing me to stop and listen to the sound of my own quickened heartbeat inside my ears –

now i would find out that the riis beach parking lot was once one the largest parking lots in the entire world and still is.
imagine that. the big oval below is it;

but i’m on a path with my dog….

that leads me to this.

it’s a little world of pine. i didn’t know it was here.
wandering further into the path, i began to shoot more pics. oddly enough, the battery died. i clicked some pics in my brain like i did when i cycled the streets in dumbo the day i saw my irish grandfather, dead as a doornail, lying in a heap by a curb.
you have to look back a ways here for that story, but it’s here. it has something to do with time, poetry, death and cameras. it has to do with sterno and indifference. it might even have something to do the eighth-electro-plasma-ocean of the ninth-dimension.
the clicks i took were lizards coming up from the grates that lead below in that world men created sixty-odd years ago. approaching me was that eduardo cianelli-sounding guy who looked like omar sharif. my eyes glanced, a bit nervously, behind him; there was a stream of his “associates” in different stages of development. some were lizards, others were like when i saw that madoff son – a bloody, awkward-looking skin-suit, stretched over an unmodified martian-lizard frame, or when i saw the lizard who wore ayn rand when she wasn’t wearing her dentures and those sharp, little rows of teeth scared the holy moses out of me. there was even the companion who i was looking at that very first day, the one who was looking out to sea with those incredibly powerful binoculars that was able to see the suit of ken lay walking on the deck of that ship, what….almost a year ago.
“yeah, well, that camera’s gonna work a little later, but not just now. you understand..” he said.
“i figured as much,” i said, “but i totally understand. so this is where the magic is, huh?” i went on, trying to not be overwhelmed or terrified. “i’ve had this…” i began…
“..flawed impression that we were shape-shifters,” that lizard said, “unfortunately, that’s a human failing. flattering but untrue. i understand you use it to aim your dislike of segments of humanity to certain ends. we need to modify after acquiring. the same thing you do with noses, eyes and other appendages. the universe is chock full of nip and tuck. you call it surgery, we call it surgery – at least in human translation. and let me tell you – these dentures never feel right and we’ve been doing this for thousand of years.”
he put his hands to his face, “it took weeks in your time to get this right. i looked like him in the beginning..” he said, pointing to the newly-acquired skin of john thain hanging awkwardly from the tightly-muscled lizard who just arrived earlier that day, “..we know it’s horrible to your eyes at the moment, but he was a real treat i’ve been told. we got him in his newly-appointed office just after the attorney general’s initial request for the deposition. we figured the next legal moves by the government would spoil the product, so we moved on him now and will have a rush on the modifications so our guy can “work the room” properly.”
“work the room?” i asked –
“come on – you know how it works – you do the same thing,” he mocked me.
“all of his boys and girls – the ones who got those bonuses. they’re….at the peak of perfection! that’s delicious in capital letters. that’s why we love humanity. as a kicker in this deal, we’re getting bunches of lawyers like…potato chips. i love america! a well-rehearsed thain is very important here.”
i was horrified and felt safe at the same time.
i was relieved that i don’t have too much of a chance of ever becoming a suit but i had to ask….
“yeah yeah yeah – you’re worried about those aliens” he said, “you’re shivering in your boots about the batteries-thing.”
(i hate that they throw their mindreading ability in my face all the time and as i thought about that he threw this in my face) –
“and if you weren’t so damned slow in that unit up there,” he said, pointing at my skull, “i wouldn’t have to drag those thoughts out of that remington typewriter you have in you brain. and, by the way, before you start thinking again, the person who painted “fuck humans” on the building was just another idiot human like yourself.”
“but..,” i began.
“..and if the you’re afraid of being scooped up and used like an eveready battery, that’s too damned bad. we have work to do. i gotta go. we’ll talk next time…..” and he raised his hand and waved, something he never did before.
he followed the stream of the lizards, suited and unsuited, further on, into the evergreen brush. i chose not to follow, partially because of fear but mostly because of terror.

oh and one last thing.
i watched msnbc news tonight.
the words “weasel, weasels and weasely” made it into the political and economic discussion and it was about the same people i talk about.
hooray! now i can make believe that someone out there is reading this.
if i hear someone use “smart-asses” or “wise-asses” i’ll be sure.

About stephen trimboli

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