The Banister Of Life

As You Slide Down the Banister of Life, Remember

1. Jim Baker and Jimmy Swaggert have written An impressive new book. It's called .......... 'Ministers Do More Than Lay People'
2. Transvestite: A guy who likes to eat, drink And be Mary..

3. The difference between the Pope and Your boss, the Pope only expects you To kiss his ring.
4. My mind works like lightning, One brilliant Flash and it is gone.
5. The only time the world beats a path to Your door is if you're in the bathroom.
6. I hate sex in the movies. Tried it once. The seat folded up, the drink spilled and That ice, well, it really chilled the mood.
7. It used to be only death and taxes Now, of course, there's shipping and handling, too.
8. A husband is someone who, after taking the trash out, gives the impression that he just cleaned the whole house.
9. My next house will have no kitchen - just Vending machines and a large trash can.
10. A blond said, 'I was worried that my Mechanic might try to rip me off. I was relieved when he told me all I needed was turn signal fluid.'
11. Definition of a teenager? God's punishment...for enjoying sex.
12. As you slide down the banister of life, may The splinters never point the wrong way...

Be who you are and say what you feel...

because those that matter..don't mind... and those that mind... don't matter!

Cover

This is one idea for the

cover of the new book.

Of course the title has

not been decided upon as yet.

Good Old Wally World!

WASHINGTON TOWNSHIP, N.J. (AP) -- A Walmart store announcement ordering black people to leave brought chagrin and apologies Wednesday from leaders of the company, which has built a fragile trust among minority communities.
A male voice came over the public-address system Sunday evening at a store in Washington Township, in southern New Jersey, and calmly announced: "Attention, Walmart customers: All black people, leave the store now."
Shoppers in the store at the time said a manager quickly got on the public-address system and apologized for the remark. And while it was unclear whether a rogue patron or an employee was responsible for the comment, many customers expressed their anger to store management.

Well, really I don't see why everyone got their panties in a wad about the above news article and the events a Wally world. It's not just black folks who think that the stores and clerks and managers are all asses. Have you ever tried to return any thing to the store, especially if it is a so called seasonal item? I once tried to return a six dollar set of landscaping lights in December and was told that they were a holiday item. What? A person can't use landscaping lights all year? I created a small scene, by backing up the line, yelling for a manager and insisting that they take the sign down that said, "Customer Satisfaction Guaranteed." I was not a damn bit satisfied! And BEFORE I left they knew it. I did get my dollars back after a zoned out check out girl said, "If we refund your money, Walmart loses money." I could feel the veins standing out in my head. I responded with something like, "I give a flying fuck about Walmart making money?!" That's when I got my refund.
That someone got hold of their speaker is not surprising to me. The stores need to get their act together on a whole lot of fronts.

Peachtree Road

Southerners sort of fluff up our winter feathers when springs gets here and we turn our collective faces toward the coming of warm weather. Sure there will be the old Easter Snap and we will have to pull out the hoodies one more time, but summer is coming. This morning I was listening to Elton Johns "Peachtree Road" CD. And if you are like one of my ex friends who once told me that 'I don't listen to him cause he's gay' then you might as well stop reading now. That is one of the stupidest statements I have ever heard. The lyrics of Elton Johns songs are written by Bernie Taupin, one of the best poets around today. Anyway back to the subject at hand. One of the songs on the album is called Porch Swing in Tupelo and it about life in the south. All of the phrases brings to mind a slice of the south especially in the summer. He sings of a porch swing on a hot afternoon, the Natchez Trace and the State of Grace in reference to Graceland. All of those have memories if you are a Southerner. So do 'dinner on the grounds, rolling down the Mississippi headin' back in time', and the saying that my grandmother used to use to express surprise, hush your mouth! If some of that doesn't stir your southern roots then you are not a southerner and it's all over your head anyway. The songs speaks of grease monkeys working under the shade trees. Do you know what that is? And of small towns that close on Sunday cause everyone's in church. That's not the case everywhere and is unique in the south. Oh and the 'change a minute' weather that was fair and sunny fifteen minutes ago and is now windy and cloudy. I like spring and the song stirred up memories of past summers and perhaps a past time. I like 'the old south all around me' and hope that we 'please don't change things too much'.

Listing for Story C

I found this listing for my first Book on several sites. It is still out there at a few bookstores. I remember how excited I was to see it for the first itme.

Legend of Story Cazaunoux: A New Orleans Novel by C. J. Murray
BUY THIS ITEM (Contact Author or store)
Limited Time Offer! Everyone receives the Member Price on books.

(Paperback) $14.95
Pub. Date: February 1998
310pp
Reader Rating:
See All Detailed Ratings

FIVE OF FIVE STARS

Read customer reviews
Legend of Story Cazaunoux: A New Orleans Novel
Reader Rating: See Below-
Great book about a sexy Voodoo Priest and his vampire lover.

Very factual in representation of N. O.

Author had in-depth knowledge of voodoo and vampire lore.

LOVED IT!!!!

http://www.filedby.com/c_j_murray/486979/works/2415985/The_Legend_of_Story_Cazaunoux_A_New_Orleans_Novel/

Excerpt (No.1) from "STORMS"

A friend of mine ask me to publish an excerpt from the book I'm working on. This is a conversation between the woman who raise him and the main character, Story Cazaunoux who is the Voudou (leader) of a sect of voodooism. He is preparing to face an unknown foe to protect his family. The book is fiction but has historic fact through out. Julia Brown was a real voodoo queen who was believed by many to have caused the 1915 hurricane that destroyed Manchac. She was documented in a New Orleans newspaper at the time. I hope you like it.

“You grow stronger.” Lynn said and watched him raise his eyes from the cup to her face. He smiled and nodded.
“So do you.” He said.
“I fear for you Story and then I realize that there is no need; not from paranormal beings or situations anyway.” She said watching him. “When you grow hard and quiet I know you are building your strength and dominance. It is a physical feat that energizes and changes the space around you. I can feel the shift in the pressure of the air.”
He nodded again. Lynn reached out and took his left hand. She could feet the bones and tendons in it. She turned his hand over and studied the palm wondering why there was no mark or sign of what he could do with these hands. But these were merely the instruments that channeled his supreme strength from the hidden dark center that lay deep inside him near the very core of his being and that manifested into acts which she was at a loss to explain. She wondered as she always had what it must be like to be Story; if he realized fully what he was, what he was capable of doing, how he was so different from other people. She supposed that he did for she had watched him struggle with that difference in his youth; trying to control it, to understand it, to accept it, to manage it, trying to conform to please Will, his adoptive father. But even for Will he could not deny what he was. She touched the band that he still wore on his third finger.
“Where is the other ring, Story?” She asked.
“Tia (Story's daughter) has it. She does finding spell to get.” He answered. “The beka use who I love against me and she helps it. It not easy to be me.” He said, still reading her thought from a few seconds ago. “Never was. It not a thing I can compare to other people. I have no experience with any other way to be. I am only me.” He said with his unusual use and placement of his words.
She knew that it was true and that he had no deep understanding of the so called normal existence. For Story the mystic, paranormal, supernatural with its various creatures, it’s realms of time and space was where he was most comfortable. The so called normal was much more difficult. She knew that his hardest struggles had been with human relationships; with understanding human wants, desires, emotions and cruelty. His inability to recognize the wickedness in humans had lead to most of his pain through the years. But what was he to do about the desire for love and acceptance that had always driven him?
Story watched her face and she knew that he was reading her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken them.
“Perhaps all want what not need or understand.” He said. “I cannot live with only the creatures of other worlds, Lynn. It not enough.”
“I know.” She said.
He picked one of the blue candles that stood on the table and with his fingernail began to carve symbols into the wax. Her mind went to another time when that hand was badly burned while trying to save Sarah. The infection had very nearly killed him. Story had been sixteen years old at the time. For months he had disappeared, lost and sick roaming the swamps of Larosa until Will, who had never given up on finding the boy had returned home with him. He had found Story in the middle of a hurricane, and she wondered if the hurricanes were all related. There was that hurricane, the Great West India of 1915 that destroyed three Manchac communities and was said to be called up by Julia Brown who was Story's great, great, grandmother and a Voodoo queen. There was Hurricane Katrina which had taken Story's wife Sarah. Did the power of the storms affect the future?
“You will be protected, Story. Either by the god you do not know or the ones you serve. Maybe both.” She said. He finished carving on the candle and placed it back into its holder. Lynn stood up and put her cup into the dishwasher, then walked to where he sat, put her arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Then she turned and left the room. Story sat in the kitchen and watched as the light outside faded and even then he did not rise to turn on a light. He heard Lynn and Will upstairs and was comforted by their presence. He thought of Sarah and Tia and of their part in what was coming, of Donita Di Di and how the distant past had the ability to reach out with cold fingers and touch the present. He thought of the beka and what effect its evil presence would have on the future. He sensed a more immediate future; dark shapes moving in the middle distance between his chair and the wall at the other side of the room. Story could see them gathering forces and the time between the past and the present giving their dark shapes substance in the physical world, driving events that would surprise everyone but him. Unlike others, most of which believe that the supernatural and reality run on two parallel tracks, Story realized that the illusion of convergence in the distance was no optical illusion after all.

Copyright by CJ Murray 2010 All Rights Reserved

Happy Birthday, Richard or Damn We Gettin Old!

Today is my brother-in-laws birthday and he is standing in the shadow of his 60's. Actually he is so far up against 60 that you can't sick a greased pin between him and it. He didn't make a big impression on me the first few time I was around him way, way back when I first met him. He was such a show off! And there was the little matter of him hitting me in the back of the head with an inter tube while we were at the river. I'm not sure if he has ever admitted to that in all these 40 some odd years. We still have heated discussions about the truth of that matter. Despite the rough beginning I have come to like my one brother a good bit, despite the fact that he still can pull a caper now and then. He does have some pretty good qualities that I seldom mention. He's been a good husband to my sister (she might have a rebuttal to that). and he raise three great daughters and has managed to whip three son-in-laws into some semblance of shape. His nieces and nephews think he's a cool old dude. And I'm pretty sure his little grandson thinks he's the funniest/coolest/smartest/ guy in the world. He's a good hunter, a good Gardener (and hell no I'm not admitting that he can grow a bigger tomato than me), must know a million jokes about any subject and can bake better than Paula Deen. All in all he's been a good brother for a lotta years and I hope he has a great birthday and a whole lot more! Love you, Rich!!!!