One Flew Into The Cuckoo’s Nest, Part 2

By admin On October 6th, 2013

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“CAPTAIN OF OUR OWN SHIP”…NOT!

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Hey we’re each the Captain Of Our Own Ship! Aren’t we? We’re each the Master Of Our Own Destiny! The_Scream Wikipedia public domain by edvard munch c.1893Right?

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And life is just the toss of the dice! Isn’t it? Life is just a series of good or bad choices, as they say.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:EJ_Smith.jpg

Well, we’d all like to think so. But have you ever had someone tell your fortune? And that fortune, later on comes true? Well, I don’t recommend you ever get your fortune read! And after reading my account, you probably won’t ever want to. But if you’ll read this chapter, you may start to believe that life is much, much more… than a mere toss of the dice…

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CHAPTER 5

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ONE FLEW INTO THE CUCKOO’S NEST, PT. 2

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“THE GOOD DOCTOR IS IN” …

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The next morning, I was officially instated into this ward. I was assigned to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist was a private practitioner, but visited the hospital each day for an hour or more. (At least I think this was more or less how it worked.)

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The time came for me to meet my psychiatrist, and I was introduced to a kindly looking fellow.

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I can’t remember his name, but he was an older man with white hair and a well-groomed Sigmund Freud style white beard; just the kind of beard you might expect to see on a psychiatrist or say…a college professor, perhaps. And in his soft spoken manner, he interviewed me.

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THINGS GET BETTER FOR ME

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Much to my surprise, as each day passed, my spirits became steadily improved. Before long, I was joking and gabbing with anyone willing to sit and listen! There were maybe a dozen or so patients, not to mention five or six staff members, at any given time. So there was no shortage of built-in company to talk to. Some patients were going through a lot of trauma. Others, like myself were OK. So I talked with those who were in a condition to converse.

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Not too bad of a situation! And so we would sit around the couch, or in the kitchen area, snacking and carrying on. Not too bad at all!

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“DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?”…

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I suppose that this visit to the hospital gave me some time to reflect on all that was 

400px-John_William_Waterhouse_-_Magic_Circle wikipedia public domain

happening to me. Because up till now, the spirits had kept me pretty busy. But now I was having to do pretty much nothing all day long. And maybe at some point I just leaned back in one of those overstuffed mental-ward chairs, and tried to comprehend all that I had been going through this past week: the terror…the rude-awakening I got when the spirit clobbered me over the head (you know… the spirit clobbered me the night he showed up, and I realized that there really exists a spiritual realm. Remember? That was truly a rude awakening, if there ever was one!) And a host of other frightening experiences! 

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But you know… I really shouldn’t have been so surprised to find that such a spiritual world does exist. After all, if I really had thought about it, I was given a few clues over the years; a few big clues that there are indeed, spirits, and that these spirits interact with humans at times…

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Witch photo courtesy Wikipedia public domain.

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CHILDHOOD MEMORY…

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One such occasion happened to me as a very young child. Back in the early 50’s. I remember it very well. One night as I was laying in bed, I distinctly saw a white shirt come out of my closet… and about a foot distance into my brother’s and my room (I was laying there in the bottom bunk). And then the shirt simply returned back into the closet. I told my mother about it the next day. She told me… “Oh Chuckie…you’re just imagining things!”.

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But even though I was only four of five years old, her answer didn’t convince me. I saw what I saw! And I know what I saw!

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And never again did I see any sort of paranormal activity as a child.

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“OUIJA”…

English_ouija_board courtesy Wikipedia public domain

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The second incident occurred many years later, when a small group of teen friends and I came across an Ouija Board. We probably opened it very carefully. Then after examining it, we decided to ask it the question… “Where should we go today?” My girlfriend and I were both holding our fingers on the pointing device as the other kids looked on. The pointing device began to go to various letters. The pointing device seemed to begin to have a life of its own. First it moved across the board to the letter “c” and rested. Then it began to move again until it rested on the letter “h”. This kept up until the pointing device had finished spelling out two words. To our amazement it spelled out the words… “Chucks house”. Well needless to say, we were amazed! At least I know that I was amazed! Nevertheless, I didn’t give this little phenomenon any more thought after that. And I just never even considered that spirits might be behind this paranormal experience. I guess my young mind wasn’t able to think things through, very well. And well THAT’S the understatement of the century!

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Photo of Ouija board courtesy Wikipedia. Public Domain.

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“I LEFT MY HEART…IN KLAMATH BASIN”

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“I TOOK MY TROUBLES DOWN TO MADAM RUE”…

A third freaky incident happened to me years later, in my twenties. I found myself at the second floor apartment of a nice young lady on one New Year’s Eve. She knew I was going to be moving to San Francisco very soon.

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You see, I always wanted to get into the music business. That was my dream. And so I decided on San Francisco, because it was only 350 miles away from Klamath. But also because I loved that brand-new cop show, “The Streets Of San Francisco”. I watched it every week. That show really romanticised San Francisco. There was always some famous landmark in nearly every scene of the show, as I remember. And so I had this wonderful image in my mind about living there in that “City on a Hill”. I could just imagine myself, someday sitting high on a hill above the bay…in my mansion…drinking a glass of bourban…with a good-lookin’ babe. Gazing out across the bay…all this of course, AFTER I had “made it” in the music business. Anyway, back to my story…

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photo courtesy Wikipedia. Pub Dom. Lombardi Street courtesy Nick Shanks share-alike license.

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“YOU KNOW THAT GYPSY WITH ‘NO’ GOLD CAPPED TOOTH”…

So my young ”g380px-Michail_Alexandrowitsch_Wrubel_001 wikipedia public domainypsy” friend suggested we see what her Tarot Cards had to say about my future. “OK, I guess so.”, I probably answered. (After all, what harm could there be in that?) So she shuffled the deck, and placed some cards on the floor. She then began to fohttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Tarockkarten_in_der_Hand_eines_Spielers.jpgretell my destiny. She informed me that the cards said that I would indeed go to San Francisco. “OK, that’s good”, I thought. But then she continued to put down another card. “But this card says you will become ill.” My eyes, no doubt, bugging out, as I listened. She continued… “But that illness will NOT be unto death.” Well that was comforting! I guess! I remember looking at my watch. It was now just a few minutes before midnight when this fortune-telling concluded. Almost New Year’s! Then as if I just saw a ghost, I suddenly jumped up and quickly left her apartment. “I gotta go!”, I exclaimed. I walked down the steps. Hopped into my little car. Zoomed off. Never to talk to her again. And I quickly forgot about all that fortune-telling nonsense.

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Michail_Alexandrowitsch_Wrubel_001 wikipedia public domain

Photo of Tarot Cards courtesy Wikipedia share-alike license. Click here for link.

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“IF YOU’RE GOING … TO SAN FRANCISCO”

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Well to make a long story short. I loaded up my little sports car into a rented moving van and began my trek down to Frisco. The trip was a breeze. I immediately drove to some friends of the family, who lived in a suburb of San Francisco. And using their home as my head-quarters, I immediately began searching for a place to rent in the papers. And finally I found a large townhouse in the quiet Portola district of San Francisco.

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I then went to the music school I had read about back in Klamath. I was interviewed by one of the instructors. And soon I began attending that brand new school there called, “Blue Bear Waltzes School of Rock and Roll”. The school was pretty cool. They had a Rock-n-Roll orchestra, led by the Strauss Brothers (what a name!), two young musicians who intertwined classical music with Rock-n-Roll. And so I ran into a young musician who was out from Minnesota, and he became my room-mate. And so I was set up according to my plans. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:San_Francisco_Pano.jpg

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“SUMMERTIME WILL BE A LOVE-IN SMOKE-IN THERE”…

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OR, “I HATE-ASHBURY”

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But San Francisco however, turned out to be not quite the place the TV made it seem. OK, maybe for many people, it’s the best place on earth. I’m just not the right person to ask. For one thing, I was constantly running into creepy people. For instance, one day my room-mahttp://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Wikiwatcher1te, his girlfriend and I went down to the Haight-Ashbury district to see somebody they knew. We went into this typical old Haight-Ashbury styled 4-story townhouse. There was some guy sleeping on the living room floor…in the middle of the day…probably recovering from a night of drugs! This was back in 1973 or so, just a few years after that whole “Love-In” thing came and went. And now I was witnessing the dregs of that drug-crazed Hippy scene! I didn’t like weird people! I didn’t like “creepy”! Oh yeah, I had long hair, like a hippy. But a bad drug experience in college quickly and completely cured me of taking drugs. Nor did I like weird-acting people! It was a long succession of these kinds of experiences that made a real bad impression on my young mind!

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Or it might not have been uncommon to see someone on some street, perhaps completely flipped out, and yelling crazy stuff, and shaking his or her fist at anyone and everyone, as you were walking by.

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photo wikiwatcher1, share-alike lic.. Click here for link.

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“BE SURE TO WEAR SOME FLOWERS “PLASTIC” ON YER HAIR”…

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And also, I got a job in a giant thrift shop on Mission Street. And while working there I saw a whole lot of really decrepit people. For instance, on one particular day, a very UN-thoughtful person went to the bathroom right smack-dab in the clothing isles, and his urine dripped down through the floor cracks ONTO THE HEAD of the cashier below on the first floor! And the cashier below on the first floor always dressed in black, like she was the wife in that old TV show, The Adam’s Family. Very creepy!

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Another time, a fellow employee, an elderly man, told me one day that he lived on a diet of milk and white bread…and dog food, as I recall! Maybe not the dog food.

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And though there were dressing rooms in this thrift shop, some people would try on dresses, stripping right there in the isles! And some of them were men! (And as a side note. I’m not putting these poor people down. But I’m simply saying this is what I saw every day. And it really got to me!)

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NICE FELLOW WORKERS!

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Now to be fair, most employees were nice people. For instance, one of my fellow workers was a young guy just out west from Boston. A real stand-up guy. And most customers were OK as well. But one sick-o could change the entire complexion of the day! And for a country-bumpkin like myself…well…this place was not exactly…uh-h… well, I could go on and on. But sufficed to say, I became depressed and even a little “neurotic”, at one point. I just had not developed that thick callous required to live in a big city!

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THE MOOCHER FROM HELL

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And as far as my home-front, my room-mate was a pretty nice guy. And so was his girlfriend. However, one day, there was a knock on the door. Standing http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:George_Carlin_In_concert_at_the_Zembo_Mosque,_Harrisburg,_Pa.jpgat the door was a very slender, hippy-type guy with long hair a beard and a tie-dye tee-shirt. He was a friend of my room-mate. And before long my room-mate asked if this friend could stay for a while. I said OK. For some reason, I didn’t like the guy from the start. Oh, he was nice enough, I guess. But he began to psycho-analyze me, which I didn’t like. But beside not paying any rent, he loved to drop L.S.D.. And so my otherwise nice room-mate, his girlfriend, and this hippy-type newcomer, began to drop acid, and listen to freaky music in the basement! And needless to say, this made things really creepy in my rented townhouse. I would sit up in the living room, while strange music, and marijuana smoke seeped upstairs.

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George Carlin in concert wikimedia GNU license

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“THIS CITY’S GOT ME UPSIDE DOWN”…

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Well things just kept deteriorating. I began to get neurotic as they say. I began to get fearful of people and of life itself. But I didn’t know the Lord. And so I didn’t have anyone to share my distress with. I kept it bottled up inside and told no one. I felt very alone. And very afraid.

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“PEOPLE ARE STRANGE, WHEN YOU’RE A STRANGER”

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Powell_Street,_San_Francisco.jpg

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I remember walking down the busy streets, and making my way through the crowds of pedestrians. Nobody smiled. Nobody seemed friendly. I just saw a lot of hollow eyes and blank faces, staring straight ahead. Everyone in their own little shell. Nobody said “Hi” to one another. It just wasn’t very nice…at least not for me! I mean, I was used to Klamath Falls, where it wasn’t uncommon to see customers stopped and chatting together in supermarkets. Or, well, let’s just say it was a whole different scene in the big city.

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Powell Street, San Francisco wikimedia share-alike license

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“WHITE SCRUBS AND PROMISES”

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But then, after four months living there in Frisco, I got really physically sick one night, and feared I was gonna die! I had a sickness in my stomach that I had never experienced before! I finally decided to go to the emergency room of a nearby hospital. I waited and waited to see a doctor.

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Well, after signing me in, they told me to sit and wait until a doctor could see me. And so I sat. And I sat. I remember one Spanish-looking couple came in. They put them ahead of me. And I listened to the husband tell the doctor that his entire left side of his body went numb! “Yipes!”, I thought to myself. “That guy’s really in bad shape!”.

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And the hours went by, and there I was. Thinking about my life, which was about to come to an abrupt end!

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And as I waited through those long hours, I began to make resolutions. “If I live through this, there’s gonna be big changes! No more cigarettes! Start eating health foods! Start taking care of myself!”

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The hospital looked kind-of dirty, as I remember. And even though I thought I might be dying, they made me wait and wait for other people to go in.

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Finally after hours of waiting, a kind-of hippy-looking doctor with a scruffy beard and maybe frizzy hair and wrinkled scrubs came to me and took some samples and left me waiting. And waiting and waiting. By the time they came back to see me it was now well into the next morning. I probably spent 8 hours or more there! (I really shouldn’t complain…it was all free, thanks to the State of California!). They finally told me that they believed I might just have had a bad stomach flu. Man, was I relieved! “Wow! I’m not gonna die after all!”

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“Can I go?”, I asked. “Yes, you can go.”, the nurse said. And so with this good report and a new lease on life, I walked out of that hospital, a new man. And the moment I stepped out of the hospital onto the smoggy, busy street, I lit up a cigarette and took a big drag, and hopped into my little MG Midget Sportster, and zoomed off! So much for my resolutions! But that incident, along with some other stuff made me finally decide to move back home.

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THE LAST STRAW!

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Then on another day, I was going to pull out from a downtown parking spot in an old neighborhood. And just as I was about to pull out, and an old man ever-so-slowly sideswiped the entire drivers-side my newly-painted sports car (very similar to picture on right, same color).

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The man stopped but spoke no English. I looked around for someone to act as witness. But all the people looked like his relatives. I quickly realized it was useless, trying to get his insurance info, or any help from the “witnesses”. And anyway, he probably didn’t have any insurance! I’m not sure that insurance was even required back in those days.

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So here was just one more bad experience stacked on top of a growing pile of other bad stuff.

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‘LONG TO HEAR THE WIND OUTSIDE MY DOOR’…

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And so, this accident and my illness were the final two straws which broke the proverbial camel’s back! I had had enough! I wanted out!

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The interesting thing about going back home was this. I never much liked the big city from the start. All the dirt and unfriendliness. Some really sick people! From the moment I got there I realized I wanted to be back in the country. And so I began looking for a close-by place in the country to live. But that just wasn’t practical, while still trying to attend school in the city. So I settled for that $200/month townhouse…high on a hill…above the bay…kind-of. And to be fair, Frisco can be a great place! Especially if you have enough money to insulate yourself from the dregs of society!

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“OREGON, I’M COMIN’ HOME…TO YOU”…

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And so I finally decided to move back to Klamath Falls. And before long I was headed back. I could just taste the country! I couldn’t wait to get a little house in the country! As a matter of fact, I envisioned a little old farm-house out in the country back in Klamath; a house that I might find to rent when I got back home. I could see on this dream house a covered white porch. I could imagine a nice porch swing, and me on it, looking out across a green pasture, playing my guitar and singing. I could even see the front porch facing toward the east. And I even saw the general location of the house… about 5 or 10 miles south of town.

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“LONG TO SEE AN EAGLE HOMEWARD SOAR”…

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And so once back in Klamath, I wasted no time. I put an ad in the local paper. In just a few days I got a call. It was the only response I got from the ad. On the other end of the phone-line was a little old Italian lady with a heavy accent. She told me she had a vacant house for rent.

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And so I excitedly drove out to see it.

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MIRACLE ON HOMEDALE ROAD…

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It was the EXACT HOUSE that I envisioned while returning back to Klamath! The white covered porch, the eastward direction it faced! The field across the road! The exact location! The only thing missing was the porch-swing! So I went down to the hardware store and bought one for $35.00. And before long, I was sitting on that porch facing eastward. Rocking back and forth, strumming my guitar, trying to compose a song… and ‘pleased as punch’ to be out of the big city insanity! And this whole new living situation was exactly…I mean EXACTLY how I had seen it in my mind! Coincidence? Again, I couldn’t explain it, but I just brushed it aside and went on with my life.

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QUIET & SOLITUDE

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But now I was back home in the Basin. And now I was living back in the serenity of this quiet little country road 8 miles south of Klamath Falls. No more loud horns honking! No more blank-looking faces on some crowded city sidewalk! No more drunks in the gutter! Or hippy druggies! Or trash in the streets! Or somebody flipping out! Or mental anxiety!

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This house out in the country was just what I needed! It was quiet! And hardly a car went by! Just the sounds of an occasional rooster crowing or a cow mooing. Or sheep Bahh-ing. Or the sight of an eagle soaring high above. Or the sound of the wind outside my door. Just the kind of place I needed to recuperate from my crummy experience in the big city!

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photo of klamath marsh courtesy Walter Siegmund share-alike license.

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“AWW… GO AHEAD…WHADOYA GOT TO LOSE!?!”…

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These were the only occultic experiences that I had over the years, prior to my present troubles beginning. 1. Seeing the shirt go out and back in my closet. 2. The Ouija Board experience. 3. The Tarot Card Reader pin-pointing my San Francisco illness. 4. My envisioning the exact house I would move into.

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And by the way… if you wish to try some of these things yourself…well…go right ahead! But don’t be surprised if the spirits that you are inviting into your life, decide they don’t want to leave, when you try to shoo them away! Satan is pure hate! His only desire is to deceive you and ultimately destroy you! As one person put it the other day… “Satan doesn’t care if you go to Hell a prostitute or as a school teacher! It’s all the same to him! He’s happy to to take you any way he can!” And look at me! I was a restaurant manager! And I only dabbled in the occult on just those several occasions! Would you like to go through what I went through? Well just go ahead and dabble with the occult! And as an old song said… “Welcome to my nightmare!”

 

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ONE MAN BAND…

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OK, back to the mental ward story. After a few days, I asked the good doctor if I might have my music equipment brought up. He thought that could be good therapy for me, as well as the patients too. So I called a friend who had a piano rental business.

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And since he had moved my music equipment on several occasions, he was happy to.

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“WELCOME, ALL YOU LOUNGE LIZARDS…UH…I MEAN…MENTAL WARD PATIENTS & STAFF!”…

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And so, before long all my music equipment was brought up there into the mental ward. My Yamaha Electric Grand piano. Yamaha electric bass piano. Electric rhythm machine. Various m800px-Keane1 Yamaha Electric Grand, courtesy Wikipedia & Yummifruitbatics and amps, cables, etc. Right in the middle of the main living area of the mental ward. And so I spent a lot of time that week, singing, playing, and taking requests from any and everybody. Patients, nurses, and visitors! And as the old saying goes… I had a captive audience! They couldn’t leave even if they tried! And let me tell ya! There’s been many-a bleak night in the music business, that I’d loved to have similar security measures… to keep the audience from leaving! Ha ha. But on the other hand, all that loud music, all week long, probably drove everyone nuts! That’s a joke! Kind-of.

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“STICK AROUND…DRINK EM DOWN (your meds, that is!)”…

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One incident, however, put a real damper on my otherwise happy situation. A friend/business paUnit 3600 Judgment Day RX-7rtner came to visit. I was happy to see him. But as he was leaving, I went to the piano and began playing a tune. And as he turned, I saw him shake his head, as he walked to the exit. He was completely mortified to see me in this mental ward, playing the piano, as if I was in a night-club.

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So because of his response, I realized just how tragic this entire scenario must have looked to anyone who knew me. I suppose that I was someone who was envied by some people around town. After all, I had a lot going for me, prior to all this. So anyone who knew me, and then seeing me playing my music in the “loony bin”, as if I was playing in a night-club. Yeah I musta been a real spectacle, all right! Quite a spectacle, no doubt!

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Photo of Yamaha Electric Grand (Not me in Photo), courtesy Wikipedia & yummifruitbat. Share-Alike license. Click here for link.

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Judgment Day license plate www.devouringfire.com

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To go to the next chapter, just click here …

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The Last Passover

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 Read about the night of doom!

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