Tuesday, September 25, 2012


It's simple as that.  Simple is as simple does.  I encountered a simple young person who means no harm, but yet in still, I'm miffed.  They're the type of person who has not been through life's wringer, and only concerns themselves with the simple things in life:  Hair, nails, social events, etc.  Simple.

This person hasn't had their life covered in layers of complexity that can eventually tarnish the coin; it's bright and shiny surface dulled by dealing with children, finances, relationships:  EVERYTHING!  Just the appearance of said person irks a middle-aged woman like me...

I was kind of terse, but it made me feel good to be that first layer of disdain.  (LMBAOOO)

Naughty me.  :-)

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Policy of Truth (Yep, Stole This Title From Depeche Mode)!

It's like this. I've "known" this person since 2006 through online interactions and occasional in-person encounters. We'll just call him/her Rannic. Folks seem to enjoy Rannic for whatever reason, but there's always been this thing rolling in my head about him/her. There's something not quite "right" about said person. Maybe it's a corporate mentality of eat or be eaten? It's very interesting to sense Rannic smooth talk around a topic, and ease out of answering questions. My encounters with him/her always leaves me with the impression that he/she is being obsequious and deceptive. One of our latest encounters involved him/her taking credit for my idea. He/she "cleverly" erased the trail back to me so it looked as if he/she was the originator of the concept. I shook my head; poor baby. Seeing as though I'm at least 20 years his/her senior, I know it's best to come at folks from a truthful perspective, and not one of deception. He/she has a lot to learn. It might be the job that Rannic performs, but it irks me beyond compare to deal with said person, and others like him/her that can't seem to speak with honesty. The fact that they think you're stupid enough not to realize that they are being deceptive is quiet disconcerting. There's ways of being truthful without looking weak! Maybe Rannic should become a politician? (LOL) With this said, I don't hold ill-will toward Rannic. I figure that it's the job that makes one act in such an elusive manner. But I know one thing's for sure: He/she will NEVER be asked to join my friend circle. I've got nothing but love for those on my page, and I don't even like him/her! Ha! Live right: Live honest! rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Monday, May 7, 2012

The Benji Effects (Same Dog: Different Fleas?)

There once was a funky dog named Benji. I hated that dog not because he was a dirty, good for nuthin' mutt, but he was the antithesis of all things foul. He lived at a home that I loathed: It smelled all-the-be-damned, and the occupants were criminals from the mother all the way down to the youngest child. Visits always comprised of me drinking beer, and watching my purse. And then there was Benji. Tiny little runt. He had some sort of skin condition that looked like it itched something terrible. I didn't want him around me, and just seeing him searching for new places to lie his nasty head pissed me off. Little mofo tried lying on my new woolen coat. You know I wasn't having none of that!

The mother of this troop owned a small house in which most of her grown offspring lived. They scraped up enough money to buy beer and not much else. They allowed not only Benji to live in the house, but other full-grown dogs and a cat. As they were allowed to pee and shit on the carpets, these lazy occupants wouldn't lift a finger to clean up. I remember stepping over a turd on the stairs leading to the basement. Yes, I said a turd! Looked like it had been there for some time as it was all dried up and shriveled. So, needless to say, it stunk to high heaven!

One day, the mother decided it was time to change out the carpet, and she insisted that the animals would NEVER be allowed to re-enter the room. A new carpet immediately eliminated the odors, and it was pleasant to sit without seeing that nasty dog lying around funkin' up the place. I chuckled as I watched the household scoot them out of the room. Well, it was good while it lasted. The first dog to re-enter the living room was (guess who): Benji. Slowly but surely, every dog (and even the cat), made their way back to their original spot that they had occupied before the carpet was replaced. The crime family had slipped back into their old ways of allowing those filthy animals to lie around. Like Benji, the odors crept back in. I was disgusted that things were going back to the way they had been.

The Benji Effects is any situation in which you or others start out with the best intentions, but end up in the same mess (or even worse). Sometimes we know from jumpstreet it ain't gonna work out the way we planned, and that we're going to backslide. It's a constant restarting of a bad behavior. Allowing dysfunction to ease back into the places it found comfortable. It's been 26 years since I've seen this dog, and I still can't stand him! Well, at least the beer was good!

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Monday, April 30, 2012

For The Love of God: Love Someone

In recent history, it has come to my attention that there are those among us who hate because of sexual orientation, gender, religion, ethnicity, etc. The list goes on and on. If there's a difference between two individuals (even a minute one), one of them may find a reason to hate them. How can you hate an entire group of people without meeting every single person in that group? I know what it is to be discriminated against, and to be honest, know what it is to discriminate against others. Either consciously or unconsciously, we all have in one manner or another have prejudged someone. When you see a group of young folks talking loud and cursing, don't you walk a wide berth around them? Why? Because you figure that they're a threat to your safety. I still do it! I've met good and bad people. Some folks are awful not because they belong to a certain group, just because they as individuals are awful! Overt discrimination is a definite no-no for anyone with whom I associate. That's inclusive of anyone who is "like" me in regards to ethnicity, sexual orientation, politics, etc. It's hard when these people are within your family. I may have you as a family member, but I will not tolerate any hateful talk in my presence. I'm of the opinion that those who think less of others have issues with self-esteem. Or they've had a bad experience with a few individuals within a group, and boxed each member of said group into the hate category. Sometimes these people go on the word of others they trust as a source of truth that they'll embrace as their own. Or is it easier to make someone look worse than them so that they feel about themselves? Just take a day to let all your petty prejudices go for a while. Maybe not even a day for some: Just a few hours. Might do you good! rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Birthday Piranhas!

Yesterday, my Mother celebrated her 80th birthday at the Bethlehem Baptist Church in Tacoma, Washington. Beforehand, I had a tour of the facilities as I was concerned it wouldn't be large enough to hold the 50+ people we anticipated would attend. I was informed that the space could hold 160. Yes, plenty of room, and then some (or so I thought). I was in charge of food and drink, and had supplied enough munchies for the amount of people who RSVP'd. At last count, 76 responded to say they were attending. The party was scheduled for a 2 o'clock start. As I entered through the rear door with the food at 1 o'clock, I glanced into the dining room to find folks already seated. I guess that was the first sign of trouble. They continued to trickle in (with or without invite). By the party's official start time, the venue was FULL! Hmmm...76 RSVP'd, but there's not a seat to be had, AND we're adding tables! Sounded like 160+ guests. The church staff informed me that the meager offerings of food I had supplied would not be enough. I found myself leaving mid-party to make a run to the grocery store. Folks from all walks of life filtered into the dining room. I know there's some people who trawl churches on the weekend looking for weddings, funerals, or parties. They ease in as if they know the honoree, and feed. I had my doubts that everyone was there for my Mother's party when a gentleman with a distinctive Irish accent asked me where the men's facilities were. (LOL) As quick as any food was put out, it was quickly devoured. By 3:15 p.m., I started to pull the food that was left as folks were just going to eat until there was nothing left. Hell, my daughter and I hadn't even eaten, and didn't look like we were going to. Even after the food was brought into the kitchen, there were people coming into the rear for to-go plates! Eventually, I had to take the food to the truck. Lawd have mercy! So my point is this: 1. If someone sends you an RSVP, please respond "yes or no." The party giver needs a head count in order that enough food/beverage is available. 2. It's not necessary to eat every damned thing as if you're starving! Leave behind a couple of crumbs for the folks who are serving you to eat! 3. If you're not invited: Don't come! 4. If you didn't respond: Don't come! 5. If you're trawling the streets for free eats: Don't come to any more of the parties that I'm buying food for 'cause I'll throw your ass to the curb! rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Bitter Sweet Remembrances

rain swirls by rainwriter jones


On March 25, my husband and I celebrated our silver anniversary with our two daughters and grandson. We reminisced about our lives together, and took pride in all we have created as a couple. To us, our marriage is more than just marking time, but enjoyment of each others' company.

I chose a photograph from our wedding album to post on Facebook. As I saw all the smiling faces that beamed from yellowed pages, I realized there were so many gone. My Father passed 8 years into our marriage, and is buried across the street from the courthouse in which we were married. The happiest day in my life offset with the saddest. But that's life. Having to balance the good with the bad, and take it all in stride. I have very fond memories of growing up with my Father, and I honor him by not carrying despair at his death, but remembering the love he gave me. Til this day, the sacrifices he made in order that his children would not need for anything is something that will forever be ingrained in me.

I owe it to Father to live the best life possible. Carry on his journey. Stay positive during times of adversity. Pass on his legacy to my children.

Not to miss, but remember.

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Monday, February 27, 2012

In Your Camera (my image stays)

The Night of Two Days
(1937 Cabriolet)

A dreamtime love affair is to look for seduction at 1 a.m. What an odd world: A room with concrete brick (painted white)

We are sleeping buddies
find companions to share the darkness under city lights
to moan gritty love poems from a darkened moonless night on wet sheets
the things I pray to God about…
sometimes prayers are meant for everyone but us

I cry because I haven’t thought of him. I cry because I think of him. I smile while I think of him. But…only in dreams.

To miss someone as much as I do is not a choice
You watch me in your parabolic rearview mirror, and jingle the keys to doors that no longer exist but in my dreams, even ghosts leave footprints

Please don’t tell me: Love ruins everything

rainwriter jones


A few weeks ago, I had an interesting interaction at a medical appointment. From the first time we met, this physician had always spoke on thought-provoking subjects (which most of the time seemed to get his schedule WAY behind). As we floated from one topic to the next, he continued to say, "I knew you were going to say that." At the end of the appointment, he pulled out his camera phone, and asked me if he could take my picture. I was at a loss for words, and didn't quite know how to respond to the request. But, I let him take my photograph. "You smile more on the right than the left," was what he said as he zoomed in.

At that moment, I thought of a news story that I saw quite a while back wherein a South American bush tribe refused to have their photos taken because they felt their souls would be placed inside of the camera. If you think about it, that's not that far from the truth. We snap images of people we want to remember (for whatever reason). As you give your image, you give a little bit of yourself to them in the form of a memory. Why he felt the need to have my image in his camera? I'm not sure, although I'm someone with whom he can relate to when discussing esoteric subjects.

Just something for you to think about the next time someone wants to capture your image.

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Surviving Immortality and the Adult Experiment


With his back as an alarm clock, he wakes to yet another rainy morning. Dangling feet bedside,

he pops the cricks from his stiffened frame, and for a time, blurrily watches his left foot hanging weightless.

The light shines differently on the middle toe as it lazily leans on the outer one like a drunken companion staggering homeward after a pub crawl.

Ripped moccasins stand prepared to receive battered feet, and take him to the porch for his morning paper. Yes, it rained,

and the naked newsprint is soggy with black ink pooled on a sunken wooden plank.

He lays open the sports section on the kitchen table. It is all that is noteworthy on this day of crooked toes, wet newspapers…

and rain.

rainwriter jones


I'm preparing this blog for those of you with young children. You as a parent have as many developmental stages as your child. You not only watch them grow, but grow with them. All along the way, your babies are tugging to be free of your hold. They squirm; you hold tight: Trying to protect them from all the evils of the outside world. When you're at the point in life as I am, you no longer have "children," but "offspring." This can be more tenuous than having babies or small ones. They often make decisions which are contrary to yours which can make this time the most heart-wrenching.

I came to realize that you have to let go. Once your child survives the thoughts of immortality (nothing can kill me attitude) during their teen years, they must grow into their next stage of being an adult: A full-fledged adult in which they have the DUTY to make mistakes. It, indeed, is an ongoing experiment. Even at my age, I'm changing the direction of my plans to suit the circumstance. That's true life!

I found that I'm beginning to change places with my parents: Shaking my head at what my offspring are doing with their lives. Now I'm sure that they were doing the same thing in my regard. When I was 23, they watched me move in haste over a little spat I had with my sister, just to return before the next months' rent was due.

You won't know it until it's your turn to let go of a control that you've had for 18+ years. Your child will stop asking "if" they can do something, and tell you what they're "going" to do. A most tender time for parents as we balance the need to nurture, and our own want of having the freedoms once afforded pre-children.

*letting go of the proverbial tether...*

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Beating A Dead Horse: The Recurring Projection Nightmare

It was a fitful night as I heard ice crash to the street from God knows where. The sound pierced the winter air like the dreams which awoke me. I had several dreams, but you know how it is, they sometimes fade with the morning light. There's always one or two which are quite poignant, and are like the missing puzzle piece to your present circumstance. I've had some major disappointments as of late, and have tried to analyze how to perceive the reasons behind why they occurred.

One of my dreams involved my brother's family. I wasn't surprised when my sister-in-law called me a few hours later. This dream was benign. It was the other dream in which I wanted to enter a stairwell in an office building, but needed to make sure the door unlocked from the other side. I interpret this as entering into a situation or relationship which once inside, it's hard (if not impossible) to leave. Indeed, I will carefully choose my bedfellows.

I thought of people, their misery, and the way they project it onto others. There's a direct connection between the disappointment which has been wrought upon me, and the behaviors of those around me. They let their circumstance dictate how they treat their unwitting victims. I don't know, but sometimes it's easier if I treat individuals who act untowardly in a social networking sense.

So, I made a decision under bedclothes to treat my life like Facebook. Group those dead horses into one category, then block their feeds. It can't get any easier than that, can it? Just like Facebook, my life will have some folks' relationship status changed depending on their reciprocity and/or projection characteristics. These people can be soul takers, and contact with them should be severely curtailed, if not eliminated.

A good dream and a strong cup of coffee always brings things into perfect focus.

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.

Monday, January 16, 2012

"Hope" As A 4-Letter Word

Today we observe the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on January 15, 1929. A day to celebrate the dreams of a dreamer which led us here to this point in history. But what have we accomplished since his assassination in Memphis, Tennessee on April 4, 1968? Is hope still alive for a better tomorrow for everyone?

Things have definitely changed, but not all for the better. We are able to be slackers, forgetful, disrespectful: Hope has become a 4-letter word with with insignificance written all over it. There are so many times I look through my window to see both men and women holding up the wall at the bar across the street. There they are: Loud, drunk, sometimes brawling. Did MLK die for our right to be idiots?

Education was (and IS) of paramount importance, and at the forefront of many of Dr. King's speeches. Without education, we damn ourselves to sit like cavemen afraid of the dark. Yet and still, so many of us take for granted their right to be educated and act foolishly. Having not lived in the days when education was a privilege, they don't finish school. Some spend their lives in a oblivious stupor letting things happen "to" them instead making things happen "for" them.

But they're not the only ones to blame for the ignorance which has befallen our civilization. When funding a major league football stadium takes precedence over educating our children, society as a whole has failed. My concern is that greed has not only foreshadowed any reasonable attempt to educate our children, but has blinded us to the need to be informed. Without information, we are, indeed, ignorant. For all we know, the gadgets and gizmos which are tossed at us as the new electronic miracle may be an attempt at keeping us enslaved.

"Hope" as a 4 letter word? Lets try a 5-letter word instead. "Faith." I have faith that all will eventually be the way Dr. King envisioned; a world without color lines, without fear. Though the two words are comparable, they are not interchangeable. Unfortunately, we won't see this in our lifetime.

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."

Where do we go from here?

rainwriter jones @ 2 a.m.