Well, I have never wanted to tell this story because I am sure it will never be believed.
But I am here to tell you that what you are about to read is absolutely true.

It is not a long story but most good stories just happen and they happen very quickly.  If you are unlucky enough to witness such a story you will convince yourself that it wasn't true.

This story is true and you are the first people I have ever told it to.

I was camping by myself in the Utah Canyon Country between Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon.  My fire was small and I was sitting close so I could use the flames of the fire to see the book I was reading.  I had hiked 15 miles that day so it wasn't surprising that I nodded off.  I am not sure how long I dozed but when I woke up there was an old Indian sitting across the fire.  I jumped in surprise.

"Do not be afraid." he said.  His voice was deep and powerful.  His tone calmed me and I immediately felt at ease.

I wasn't scared but I couldn't find words to say.  I just stared at him across the fire and the longer I looked at him the more he appeared not to be real.  I shook my head and blinked but he didn't disappear.  I finally found my voice but all I could think of to say was, "Who are you?"

He said, "I am your great grandfather.  I am here to warn you that you are in danger."

"What danger?" I asked.

"Those clouds, over there above the mountain, are dropping a lot of rain.  Very soon a wall of water will come.  You must move."

Then he just faded into the night.  I cannot honestly say whether he walked away or faded a way.  I was watching the clouds over the mountain and remembering the warnings I had received from my father about flash floods.

I didn't even take time to put out the fire.  I grabbed my things and headed for higher ground.  As I took off I could hear the roar of the water and I began to run.  I reached the higher ground just as the water roared by.

A spirit?  My  great grandfather?  True?  Maybe...Maybe not, but the flash flood happened and something or someone woke me up and told me to run.

I can dream...or can I?

Last night I dreamt I was young again. Oh what a wonderful dream it was.
Naturally all wonderful dreams for a man of my age include a pretty young girl.

Now, don't get upset because it wasn't a dream about an old goat with a cute young thing.  No sirree, I was young again and agile and spry and good looking.

Maybe good looking is a little white lie but what the hey, it was my dream.

The girl was exactly what a man would dream about and exactly what a man shouldn't dream about.  She was everything that would make every pore in a man's body sweat.

The scene was perfect..a Hawaiian sunset beach with a cool breeze.

Then she came into my arms and our lips met and it was the worst kiss I have ever had.

I woke up with my little black Schnauzer licking My face...Yuk

curiouser and curiouser and curiouser

Now where did I hear that before?  Or did I hear it before?  I am curious to know, so of course I will google curiouser etc., etc., ...hold on, I'll be back in a second...There, I'm back.  Now that didn't take to long, did it?

Guess what?  I could find no reference to curiouser and curiouser and curiouser.  Only curiouser and curiouser. There are a lot of references to two curiousers but no references to three curiousers

So now I am curious to know if I, "Old Grizz", can actually get credit for coining the phrase..."An old hungry bear gets curiouser and curiouser and curiouser the closer he comes to the smell of food."

And remember, Curiosity killed the cat, not the bear.

Who me...die?

Absolutely....and I have no idea what will be thought of me.  Oh I know the family will make me more than I am or was, that is only natural.  All the bad things are forgiven and the good things multiplied by 10 the first year and then who knows.  Some of my relatives that I personally know were hanged for horse stealing are now Saints in control of various parts of heaven.  Hell, my aunt told me her uncle (one of the horse thieves) on her husbands side has the harp concession in the Baptist section of heaven.

But for me, if I die or when I die, think this of me...I am happy with who and what I am...I have no regrets..except maybe never getting to Australia to meet Linda May, oldegg and Rinkly Rhimes, or New Zealand to have a beer with White Snake and his lively woman or even to cross the pond and have a pint with Keith.

So, If I should die, please one and all, raise a glass to me of whatever you use to toast with and know that I have enjoyed your blogs and your comments.


Somewhere, someplace in a time from the past, a wise person (probably female) said, "Your mind is a field of dreams. If the dreams are bad the harvest will be bad. If the dreams are good and honorable, the harvest will be good and honorable.  The harvest of your future will be your dreams of today.  Dream high and harvest a life of honor."
That could have come from Rumplestillskin's wife, Dimples or maybe it's something Momma Bear told me.

learning curve

Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned,
that I have not learned one thing!

ah, well
learning is a
curious thing

you think
you have learned
but everything changes

what we think
is not
what we think

I think
did it
change again?

A Great Man

This week the world is remembering John Lennon's birthday.
Keith honored him on Carry on Tuesday with the theme of "Beautiful Boy".
Sunday Scribblings' discussion is on "Essentials".
I posted a poem on my blog Burned Toast and Coffee indicating my thoughts on John Lennon.


so young and innocent,
I give my life to you

please absolve me
beautiful boy

I was there once
but lost it

and my other son
will you be him


SS states "In writing and in life, the secret is sometimes in what you leave out. I believe one of the "essentials" in John Lennon's life was the loss of his first son, Julian

John Lennon gave up or put on hold his singing career and became a "househusband" to raise his son, Sean.  In the past and in another world lived a first son, Julian.
Life and career interfered with his relationship with Julian.

It is not easy for a man to lose a relationship with a son.  It is not easy for a man do deal with relationships with ex-wives.

My poem is a belief that John Lennon loved both sons but was only able to raise Sean and  gave up a career to have a son.  I also believe that if his life has not been cut short he would have found and reconciled with Julian.

Great men do those things.

Flashback - When I was nine

I was introduced to death when I was just a boy by my two year old neighbor, Timmy. Timmy was a strapping tow head toddler with lots of curiosity. I am sure Timmy never intended for me to see death at the age of nine. I can still remember Timmy running around his back yard, his blue eyes sparkling in the sun. He would laugh and giggle with his dad in chase, pretending not to catch him and then grabbing him up with a big tickle and a rub on his chubby belly with whiskered chin. No daddy, no Timmy would giggle and then ask for more.

Then one hot summer day when Timmy's dad was away Timmy could not be found. We all looked and yelled and checked all the neighbor's yards and houses. Have you seen Timmy? Timmy's missing everyone would say and another neighbor helped to look that day. Timmy's dad came home and the police were called and they all searched all over again.

Timmy's dad was scared and Timmy's mom was frantic and then someone, I can't remember who, found little Timmy Roebuck floating in the irrigation ditch behind my home. I was there when they pulled him out all wet and blue. The ambulance came and they tried to make him breathe and then my mom was crying and said. "Timmy is dead". I didn't understand death and I wasn't sure what it meant but I cried too. Timmy's gone to live with God they said.

They put Timmy's tiny body in a tiny casket in the house next to mine. My mom asked me if I wanted to say goodbye to Timmy and I was afraid to say no. We walked next door hand in hand. Timmy's dad was stern and Timmy's mom was crying.

My mom walked across the room to say goodbye but I was afraid to follow because I did not know what I would see. My mom said, "Come on and say goodbye."

Timmy's dad said, "Yes please, Timmy would like that."

I edged across the hard wood floor and I shut my eyes and did not want to look but my mom said, "Open your eyes and say goodbye, it will be alright." I opened my eyes and looked at Timmy. He lay quiet and  he looked peaceful and he looked alright. I did not know what to say so I stared at him and then reached to feel his hair. It was blond and soft and felt alright so I put my hand on his chubby cheek to feel his skin.

But Timmy's cheek wasn't soft and warm and didn't feel alright.

It was cold and hard and felt like stone. Timmy startled my fingers and etched my mind when he introduced me to the stone cold feel of death when I was only nine.