March 2015

3 articles in March 2015

Yyoung men of 20 years of age should not have many burdens placed upon them. Biologically they are distracted by far greater urges and their thought process is greatly affected. The insurance industry knows this and charges a premium for young men in this age group.

I was once 20 years of age, a lifetime ago it seems and I proved the Insurance industry assessment correct. I was a college student and had to seek employment to fund my higher purpose. My lifelong friend suggested security work, as it would not tax our energies, and what job could be easier? This was before licenses were required. I wonder if our security careers had any impact on that sensible law.

We went to Pers-Eval Security in Huntington, Long Island, a since closed firm: I also wonder about our impact on that, as well. We filled out applications that consisted of name, address, and shirt and pant size. The office consisted of 2 women, Phyllis and Carmen, the latter being the subordinate. Both were divorced, and were “Older” women, they dressed in what I call Deer Park couture: something peculiar to Long Island.

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Aas a life-long friend, please allow me to shed a little light. The TaleWagger is a complex character, who has used many aliases in his chequered career. He was originally called Tom Tom,(his father, a piper had a stutter) and he lived with his widowed mother, brothers and sisters in a shoe-shaped dwelling.

He and his brothers argued so much with one of the sisters, who was called Mary and was quite contrary, that his mother had difficulty coping. Partly due to this, a neighbour once said: “She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do!”  His brother Jack climbed a beanstalk one day and was never seen again.

This giant tragedy made the Talewagger decide that he too should leave home. With his cat dressed in boots and now calling himself ‘Dick’, he left to start a new life. They walked along a yellow-brick road, to a big city with shiny, golden pavements and there Dick was offered an important job with the council.

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Ssitting there, his knees under him, he stared off blankly into the air. The orderly that was his daily routine came in, stuffed two pills in his mouth and poured a tiny bit of water down his throat.

The reflex of the water going in made him swallow the pills as it had done a thousand times in his three years at the sanitarium. The judge had ordered him there, until they could figure out why he was the way he was.

Outside he was a vegetable but inside was totally different. He stared down the distant hall, the hall that led to his mind.

It was eternal and on either side of it were two great walls. On each of the two great walls, sporadically spaced, were doors, thousands of doors. More doors than he had explanations for, and all of the doors were closed.

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