LOOK CORKY, IT'S PERSEUS

Back during the silver age and golden age of comics, every hero had a side kick, Batman had Robin, Aquaman had Aqualad, and the Flash had Kid Flash. The Kid like his adult counter part, could run close to the speed of light. He was so fast that he could run on just about any surface. For example, he could run across the ocean in the same manner that a stone skips across a pond, I think that's how it works but how the fuck do I know? I'm not a scientist. Kid Flash is the comic book character that's most reminiscent of Doug to me.

Our history together starts almost at the beginning of my life. He is my brother. The brother I consider to be my guardian angel. I was first introduced to Doug by a local neighborhood head hunter named Bik. Bik's specialty was recon. I don't know if Bik hid in bushes or up in trees as he watched new people move into the neighborhood, but somehow he was always friends with the new kid on the block, first. On one sweet day, Bik told me to follow him over to Doug's house. When I got to Doug's house, there was Doug in all of his Hasbro, first line, GI Joe glory. I thought to myself "okay Doug you got Corky's attention now let's see what you can do with it". Needless to say Doug and Corky became fast friends.

Doug and Corky spent many of their earliest adventures swinging sticks at each others heads. Today, behavior like this would have gotten us sent to institutions, and our parents arrested, but back in the 80's this is how the kids in our neighborhood had fun. When we weren't assaulting each other, we were doing what we did second best, pissing off our fathers. We were very devious back then, and we had a brilliant plan that we concocted, that when implemented would piss both our fathers off at the same time. We would go to my house and take my fathers Stanley screwdrivers and sharpen the heads on them into fine points. Then we would go over to Doug's house, and mutilate the only tree in his front yard. We also had an ax that we used to hurl into that tree. We actually got pretty good at it too. The only problem with our full proof plan was that we didn't account for what would happen to us when our father's realized what we had done...

As time progressed so did our hobbies. There's tons of fun, crazy stories that I will get talk about in later posts/chapters/past incidents, what ever you want to call them, but for now I must jump a head to a darker period in my life. One time after a three week binge on all sorts of stupidity I was sleeping in my bed. Let's just say I was completely exhausted, defeated and demoralized etc. When I woke up there was Doug, reading a comic book with his body contorted in a way that most people's bodies aren't meant to be. He was naturally flexible you know. Anyway, when I woke up I could see him looking at me, waiting for me to get up and well, you know, swing a stick at his head. And he waited for what seemed to be all day. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live.

I have to jump back again, sorry but I forgot to mention that when Doug was a very young child, he had a very serious ailment. He had what is considered to be a childhood version of Alzheimer disease. What I mean by this, is every where that we went Doug thought he saw his pet ferret. We would have to say things like,"no Doug, that's a squirrel not your ferret.

Now lets flash forward to Doug's life. When Doug was not hanging out with Corky and the gang he was practicing guitar, going to alter boy practice and studying with various tutors, but I know that all he ever wanted to do was run fast with Corky. Somehow Doug wound up going to an Ivy league college.

I must apologize to all of my other friends but Doug gets to play the part of Darth Vader. Doug started to do the things that made Doug, Darth. Let's just say that he let his anger consume him and he was on a very destructive course. After just about loosing everything, mainly himself, he figured out that it was time to change. I wish I could have been there the night he decided to take off the mask and became Doug again. Doug was back to square one, and had to learn how to swing a stick all over again. Luckily for Doug he has a dazzling sister and a loving mother and a friend a named Bill, that were there for him.

He was on his way but there was one important ingredient missing. That's where the wonderful Celine comes into play. Doug met this wonder girl in a bar or a diner, and he did some ridiculous Jewish folk dance to get her attention. It probably would have been a lot easier if he had just pulled out his Gi Joes but Corky stole them all, so he had to do the dance. In Corky's else world imagination she is the leader of a certain group of girls, that I will feature in a later posts as well.

To sum it all up Doug is now the Daredevil, a lawyer by day and an adventurer by night with a weakness that augments his gifts. Doug and Celine's story is just getting started and so far it's an amazing story.

FUCK YOU APRIL

It's 77 degrees outside, a bit overcast and there is a cool breeze. In other words its a perfect day. It's the kind of day we dream about all year round. Whether it's 100 degrees outside and we can't breathe from the humidity or its 19 degrees and we are scraping off an inch of ice from our windshields and we have to be to work in 15 minutes. Or perhaps you are walking to work in February and the wind is piercing right through you and all you can do is tense up, like that's going to help. Sometimes on a cold Winters day I spend my day preparing for the perfect day by cleaning out my tackle box. I also clean up my fishing reels and obsessively put them in order from best to worst.(this kind of behavior reminds me of a friend named Fredy Flesch) A lot of people do stupid shit like this with whatever their hobby or passion is, depending on your opinion of the difference between a hobby and a passion.

When I was a kid, I was walking home from school one day at about 4:30 pm and not because I had just left a FFA meeting. It was brutally cold outside but it was a sunny day and clear. It must have been 10 degrees outside. Along with cursing at my teacher I was cursing at the sun. I remember watching the cars drive by and thinking that one day I would be 30 and I would be driving one of those cars.

It took along time(but not long enough) from that point to become 21 and then I blinked my eye and now I'm 35. And now I have a car to avoid most of the winters brutalility. And now I drink a toast to you perfect day. But I was wrong. I don't need you. So take your perfection and shove it strait up your ass. I don't need to be reminded of my mortality. I feel it. I'll take the heat, the cold, and even the funnel cakes, I ment funnel clouds. I will spend the rest of my life routing for the Steelers in the Superbowl, decorating Christmas trees, and driving 735 miles to spend my "time" with my family and friends. A perfect day for me now consists of me sitting on a couch in my friends house, unable to move because this stupid old body doesn't function like it once did. Or perhaps i will spend the day kissing my wife... I will carry around my action figures in a plastic bag regardless of where I live, whether it be in a bush or a two bedroom apartment or once again in a house. You will never dictate a perfect day to me again. You have know idea what a perfect day is. But your Friend Corky does. And those are the days I will embrace for the rest of my life.

Look Corky, It's Perseus

I realized shortly after writing my first character profile that I couldn't tell all my wonderful stories with out introducing the key players in those stories. So doing this thing in alphabetical order is out. Besides I know you prefer it to be random, Corky style.

The Kid flash is another one of those mystery men that is considered to be a thrill seeker. But what kid wouldn't be, if he or she could move at the speed of light, or run across the ocean in the same manner a stone skips across a pond. I know I was, I mean I would have been an adventurer if I could run at the speed of light.

When I was younger, I had a head hunter in my employ. His name was Bik and his responsibilities included scouting out the new kids in the neiborhood and making sure that they weren't mutts(a mutt is a dog with no heart). So one day Bik told me he found such a kid. He took me through trails and bushes until we finally crossed over the Rainbow Bridge of Asgard and in to Dougs front yard. There was Doug standing there in all of his Hasbro, first line, GI JOE glory. My thought process went something like this, "ok Doug, You've got Corky's attention. Now lets see what you can do with it". Needless to say me and Doug became fast friends that day and the rest is history.

When Doug was younger he had a medical condition know as Childhood alzheimer's disease. Where ever we would go he would have moments of disorientation and would spout out things like, "Look there is Perseus". We would have to calm him down and say things like, "No, that's a squirrel, not your pet ferret.

When Doug was not going to Alter boy practice or practicing his guitar or studying with his tutors he liked to spend the rest of his free time with Corky and the gang. When Corky and Doug were left to their own devises they would spend most afternoons swinging heavy sticks at each others heads. We also shared a passion for pissing off our fathers. We would go in to my basement and take all of my fathers Stanley screwdrivers and sharpen the heads of them in to fine points. Then we would take those same screwdrivers and go over to Dougs house and destroy his fathers trees. Specifically the only tree in his front yard. Today they lock children up for behaving like that, but back then it was called good fun. Don't worry Ralphi, while you and Flick were getting yours me and doug were getting ours. We also belonged to a football team called the undergrounds and nothing pleased Corky more than throwing a bomb to doug and watching him burn kids twice his size. By the way we got really good at throwing screwdrivors in to trees.

And then the dark times started. Well they were quite fun at first. Again we were pissing off our fathers but this time we were drinking all thier booze. But before we get into the Kid flashes transformation to Darth Vader I have to tell you that I consider Doug to be one of my brothers as well. He is the brother i consider to be my guardian angel. One time after one of Corkys three week binges Doug came over while

CORKY, THIS COURT FINDS YOU GUILTY AND SENTENCES YOU TO 9 MONTHS ON A BLUE CHAIR

If you happened to stumble across this picture you might think to yourself that it's a picture of an auditorium set up for a graduation. Or it might look like a room being used for a business seminar. Either way, you probably wouldn't give it a second thought. But if you were as fortunate as I was you would view this room as a warehouse in Secaucus, New Jersey used to store drug "addicts", bulimics, over eaters, and cross dressers. Sprinkle in a couple of people with behavioral problems and ta-da--you  have a rehab called KIDS.

From the fall of 89 to the spring of 91, I spent most of my life drinking and drugging. I made countless poor choices at that time, from who I associated with to putting hallucinogenic toxins in my blood stream on a semi-regular basis. I tried to change my behavior at least a dozen times. One of the methods I used to change was enrolling in community college. Twice. I do not recommend enrolling in college without a plan or a desire to learn. It's a very expensive way to spend three days at a clip, carrying around expensive, heavy books so that you can play the part of a student. Fortunate for my parents, who were footing the bill for these "spiritual awakenings," I did have some sense left and I spared them the added cost of buying me a pair of glasses with out a prescription. I would also spend the better part of three to four hours after a night of tripping verbally expressing my chemically manifested negative feelings to anyone who would listen. Usually a person who had been there with me, doing the same exact thing, kind of like talking to yourself, only you're not listening. One particular place I would do this was at a donut shop on route 10 in New jersey. I would usually get a cup of coffee, smoke a pack of cigarettes and exfoliate my need to change my life (and, despite my wife's protest exfoliate, is the right word). There was a guy who frequented the same coffee shop, a regular if you will, who must have listened to me on numerous occasions. I can only imagine what he must have thought. If it were me, I might have said "oh no... Not him again, and not that same old song and dance". This is an example of the series of patterns I called my life back then. By the end of this "best of 24 game series" I was beaten, exhausted and just about feeling dead inside.

I finally went to my mother and told her I needed help. At the same time she was already looking to get me help, because she could see the toll the series had taken on me. So I spent a month in one of those dream vacation spots called rehab. This place was amazing by the way. I spent my time living in Florida, going fishing in the pond behind the rehab and catching monster bass and snapping turtles. I also gorged myself on ice cream and spent my afternoons at the beach. I think we took a field trip to NASA as well. And for a couple of hours a day we would sit in a room and talk about such things as child neglect, drugs and alcohol. You too could have all of this fun in 1990 for just 30,000 dollars a month.

On my way home from my vacation in Florida the councilor offered me two suggestions. 1.Go to a 12 step meeting as soon as you get off the plane and 2. stay away from old people, places and things. After getting off of the airplane I did the exact opposite. I got together with "old" friends and I didn't go to a meeting. Besides with the added 15 pounds I had from eating all that ice cream I was ready to take another stab at the game. But my mother playing the umpire threw me out at first base. In retrospect I am grateful to her for that. However, what I'm about to tell you next is very disturbing, and she was not aware of any of this at the time.

About a week after my 30 day stint in Florida my mother told me that i would be going away. Reluctantly I knew she was right and that I had to go. So I went to my best friends homes to say my temporary goodbyes.(I remember going to Doug's house and him not being there, and I remember crying on the walk home). And off to Kids I went.

When I arrived at KIDS the first thing I saw were a couple of cute girls drawing pictures. I remember thinking to myself that maybe this place wasn't going to be so bad after all. That might have been the most inaccurate perception I will ever have in my life. The councilors took me into an empty room they called an intake room. There they berated me for about two hours, asking me what kind of drugs I did. I told them and they would ask again. And then one of the girls who had been drawing pictures, with her pretty smile, told me how the program had helped her. So, I decided to give the place a try because I wanted something better for my life and, more importantly at that moment, I wanted to get into her pants. And then they brought me some papers and had me sign them and the rest is history, as they say. After that they stripped me of my dignity, i mean took away my cigarettes, they patted me on the back and welcomed me to Kids.

The next thing that happened is that one of these Kids took me by the waist with his hand, by placing three fingers inside the waist of my pants and putting his index finger through by beltloop, so he could control me. I could not move much more than a couple of inches but I could move enough to walk. Then they proceeded to walk me through a sea of blue chairs, into a group where the girls were separated from the boys. This is how they introduced me: "This is Corky everybody he smoked pot, drank alcohol, used acid, mescaline, mushrooms, wip-its, and liquid codeine" and a couple of other stupid things." Then they said I liked martial arts and watched alot of television. Just kidding about the television part. The group of KIDS then responded by saying "Love you Corky" and I was sat down. The next thing that happened was truly a bizarre sight to behold. The Kids started singing a campfire-esque song about the rehab (what the fuck?) that lasted about 30 seconds and, to further shock me, they started having what would appear to a normal human being to be a collective epileptic fit. This was called Motivating. Motivating, by swinging your arms wildly and making twisted faces, this was how you got recognized in group, or called on, the same way a student who raises their hand gets called on in school. After you got picked, you would stand up and talk about a specific past incident where your compulsion made your life unmanageable. You had to talk about one of these incidents with a certain amount of feeling or the staff members, 90 percent of whom had been former KIDS themselves, would sit you down. If you were Sat down in group, this meant you were in trouble and made you ineligible to receive the one reward you were working to achieve as a new comer, the chance to tell your parents about what else, your past. This is all you did from sun up to sun down at this place. They broke it up into 3 or 4 sessions throughout the day. There was morning rap, then you ate lunch. Then they separated the guys and girls and had guy and girls rap in separate locations. Then they had Afternoon rap. Then dinner and finally Evening rap.

There were five phases that were designed to integrate you back into becoming a productive member of society. Phase one was designed to make you come to terms with the fact that you were a drug addict or that you had an eating disorder or that you [insert any addiction or compulsion here]. A person with an eating disorder might describe a past incident as looking in the mirror and noticing the sores on their mouth caused by the stomach acid they were throwing up in order to stay thin. Very disturbing and very real. Phase 2 turned you into a person who could go home and babysit phase one people. You see at Kids the parents played a vital role in the "recovery" of the Kids as well. They got to feed and warehouse the Kids at night when the other warehouse was closed for the night. These were called host homes. And you basically did the same thing at the host home you did at group, you ate and, drum roll please..... you talked about the fucking past. Phases three through five integrated you back into school or college or work, and Yes, these Kids did not go to school on phase one. There were a ton of rules at this shit hole. Rule number one was honesty, a rule that this place's very existence broke.

HERE IS WHERE THIS EXPERIENCE TRULY BECOMES DISTURBING: I will only give a handful of examples. You could not talk about a person who was removed from the program. A person would simply disappear from the Kids program in what appeared to me to be the same manner as if you were a resident in Germany in the late 30's and early 40's and your neighbor was a Jew. He was there one day and gone the next, with no explanation. You were told that if you did not succeed at Kids you would be dead within the year. And then they would give you an example of a person who this might have happened too. You could not look behind your blue chair, as to look in the back of the room. So at this point you were now being treated like a horse and if you did look behind, you were stood up and berated or RIPPED INTO.
You had to eat whatever was served you and finish every bit of it because it was deemed uncompassionate to the people with eating disorders if you did not, and they would not serve you anything else until you finished your original meal. On higher phases you could not associate with anyone who the program did not allow you too. You could not even go to the bathroom by yourself on phase one. As a result of this rule, Corky became very constipated. The rules are endless and they are all meant to break a person down.

This is the point in this story where I will tell you the true tragedy of Kids: the age range of the kids in this program were 12 years old to 24. So when I was off pretending to be a superhero at the age of 12 for example, some of these children were spending their childhoods on blue chairs talking about a past that they really never had. Of course some people had serious problems, but this place wasn't equipped to deal with them. Another tragedy was the Kids that were being punished for their sexual orientation or for their clinical depression. As an example, there was one kid that was there because he liked to wear dresses. There was also a girl in there that had a bi polar disorder. Instead of treating this disorder with medication, like they should have, Kids treated it with having this girl talk about a time she put her fist through a window, or the time she was too depressed to get out of bed, for example. They kept this girl in what amounts to solitary confinement for months at a time.

When Kids were disobedient they were punished by not being able to proceed with their program, a process called being frozen. Kids were also punished by being stood up in group and humiliated. A person who didn't comply with these rules was referred to as rebellious and sat back in their blue chair and didn't motivate or participate. This was me for most of the 9 months I was there. 9 months is just a drop in the water for most of the children who were imprisoned by this program. There were people who spent over 5 years easily on their phases, being reconditioned how to think and how to talk. I must mention that one of the main reasons a kid would be kept on his phases for so long was perhaps his parents were paying in cash. This program was subsidized by the government as well. A good majority of the kids that were in this program were from inner cities and what not. One time the police came and pulled a kid right out of group and arrested him on the spot. I know this guy was relieved to be going to jail, because the court gave him a choice. He was over 18.

At this point one might be asking themselves "how did Corky not go crazy"? I did to a point. I wound up getting restrained, a process where 4 to 6 other Kids, depending on how strong you were, held you down by your limbs and stretched you out on to the floor. It hurt like hell, sometimes. I wound up punching one kid in the face and one time I built up a really thick wad of spit and launched it into another person's face. At times, you could say I was becoming a caged animal. But most of the time, dare I say it, I dreamed about the past... the real past. Not the one concocted by this asylum.

When I finally got out of this place the first thing I did was take a monster shit that I had been holding in for as much as one can for 9 months. I was a raw nerve to say the least. After that I visited with the same three friends I went to say goodbye to before I went into KIDS. And we did what we always do, we laughed and made fun of each other. I could not explain to them what had transpired over the previous 9 months except to say that it and I were very fucked up over it. Could you imagine trying to explain Motivating to someone? I couldn't until I started writing this. I also had a recurring nightmare that was always the same. I would break out and cross the Garden State Parkway in extremely slow motion. I had the dream for years but it's been a while now...

This place was ran and operated by a man named Virgil Miller Newton. A so called doctor of Anthropology or some shit. I would best describe him as a child molester. There are many people who are still haunted by this experience and a lot of others who moved on with their lives.

There are also people who still follow this man. Can you believe that? You can learn all about him if you go to kidsofnorthjersey.com. I will say that the girl with bi-polar disorder was awarded 4.4 million dollars or something like that for her mistreatment and others have followed suit as well. I am happy for them. As bad as I felt in that coffee shop on route 10 it was nothing compared to how bad I felt when after a couple of weeks in  KIDS.

FROG BLOG

Spiderman was created by Stan Lee in 1962. Besides creating most of the stable that is Marvel Comics today, his greatest contribution to comic books is the realism he brought to comics.
Spidey is the story of hero that gave up everything, because he placed his responsibility above his own needs and desires. We all know the quote, "with great power comes great responsibility." A lesson Spiderman learned in his first appearence in 1962.

This is the story of my brother, the brother I consider to be my muse. His story with me starts at an annual Christmas party held by the Kosher Mafia every year. He was a bit younger than all of us and I was a bit older then all of them, our friends that is. I cant really compare him to a super hero at this point, but I can compare him to a frog. He was short and a little fat. This nick name came a little later after he joined the martial art studio that we all belonged to, and showed an aptitude for jumping, croaking, and breaking boards with a kick called jump back kick. He was a little obnoxious back then, but I liked him a lot and he would usually do the things that I asked him to do. The things I asked him to do were, come to class, and help run birthday parties that we hosted. Another thing I would ask of him, was to scream in the ear of people that a, pissed me off or b, needed a message that didn't consist of a jump back kick to the chest. It usually sounded something like this. (In a prepubescent voice) "Ricky Rickyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy" I guess I could compare him to the banshee.

I will now refer to him as Ian. Ian, like every body else has tons of his own stories but I can only tell you his story through Corky Vision, I mean my perspective. When I was about 24 or something I was still living with my parents, you could say I was going nowhere fast, I would rather say going in circles slowly. Ian was living a couple of miles south of the mason Dixon line at this time. He suggested that I move down to DC, and he would get a place for us. And I did.

Back then Ian was a bit of scientist. He was hell bent on showing Corky that his car could run without gas. The sure brilliance behind his experiments was that he had no intention of comming up with a fuel alternative. He was simply going to, will, the car to move after it had run out. On any given Tuesday afternoon you could probably see Ian running along the capitol Beltway. Ian liked to jog in the most interesting places. One time he made Corky put on his black "running" suit so we could take a jog throughout Arlington cemetery in a humid 100 degree heat.

After flunking out of school with a little help from his college friends ( before Corky moved to DC mind you) Ian realized his dream. He wanted to be the best at whatever he did. At the expense of just about everything, friends, money and a life. He practiced Tae Kwon Do at least 6 hours a day (I'm sorry but I must interrupt the structure of this paragraph to insert another story). When we lived together Ian and I had a very serious habit that caused us to pawn just about everything we had. Now that you have read a good deal of my blog you are probably assuming its heroin. It wasn't. We would pawn our shit so that we could go to high end stake houses with our other friends that lived in the area. A steak and two glasses of cognac would cost you $80 bucks at one of these joints. I sure do miss that Sega Genesis, but the cognac was to die for.

After Ian finished his quest with becoming a great martial artist he went back to school where he maintained a 4.0 grade point average. The pursuit again all but killed him. It almost did actually. That's where we introduce his Mary Jane Watson as to not be confused with Corky's mary jane. With the love of her ,his mother and yes a little help from his real friends things turned out fine. The reason I call him my muse is because Ian always remembers to make sure that Corky doesn't fall to far behind. Unlike when he was younger he does this in a soft manner most of the time via e-mail. For that Corky is grateful. If you saw Ian and his girlfriend MJ or as I will now refer to as Heather, standing next to Toby and Kirsten, well this blog or my story would start to scare you more and more. It's starting to scare me how easily im putting it all together.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change costumes and go to a 13 hour workshop to learn things I've already had to learn in order to do my job. So that the company I work for can tell me that these are the things needed to be done to save costs, even though we are already doing them. What???

HIGHKU

BUY A SILVER CAN
OPEN WITH A FINGERNAIL
CHEW YOU FOOL CHEW SPIT

Corky's wife adds 11th commandment: THOU SHALT NOT CLEAN FISH IN THE FUCKING SINK

Another title for this post could have just as easily read, Kentuckys answer to gifilte fish. We ate this beauty the same day I caught it.
Incidentally Al, my father in law, and I drank manischewzit wine with our Easter meal today. But calm yourselves I only had one glass.

THE SENSATIONAL CHARACTER FIND OF 1989

This is the cover of Detective comics 38 which sold for ten cents in 1940.
Bob Kane created both of these characters. Robin the boy wonder was an aerial circus acrobat. His parents were killed by gangsters, and the Batman helped Robin track down the killers, and bring them to justice. Robin, unlike Batman, did not get consumed by this tragedy. Yes he grieved and mourned over the murder of his parents, but that is not the reason he became a superhero. Robin was in it for the thrill of the adventure. This book in mint condition is easily worth 100,000 dollars. These books are so rare that they are essentially priceless.

This is the story of the person I consider to be "my older brother." His story begins with me on a winter day around 1981. A bunch of us were playing paint ball, without the paint, at an old abandoned army base called Dinosaur Park. Most of us were having the time of our lives as we often did, every day. But my so called older brother, who I will now refer to as Lou, was not having such a good time. He wasn't dressed properly and wound up getting wet in the snow. So he started to complain and cry and act like a little bitch. In my infinite 12 year old wisdom, instead of telling him to go home, I built a fire to warm him up. That didn't work for Lou. So he got up and said something like, "I'm going home and don't care what you say or what you call me." And so I replied "See you in eight years dude".

Eight years had passed and now its the fall of 1989. We were standing outside of the local high school, a place that I had graduated from the spring before, and Lou came up to me, with a bunch of other friends, and this is the first thing I said to him, "what you finally dried off"? And then he promptly jumped in the passenger seat of my car and that was the beginning of our friendship. You could say at that point he earned a best friend berth. We had many adventures together. Some of the highlights include watching life go by in New York, with rose colored chemicals pumping through our veins, this was before Rudi cleaned up the former garbage dump. We did things like purchase fake ID's, to be used down the Jersey shore. We also lived in malls, and we passed the time sitting on rooftops drinking beer and watching snow fall. Good stuff. One of the last adventures for Lou, the boy wonder, took place in the Ghetto. A place that Naughty by Nature gave us an explicit warning not to go. But we didn't listen. So anyway, something something whatever something. We were sitting in a mutual friend's living room, in the hood, and after a couple of drinks, that mutual friend's sister pulled out a 357 magnum to show us. Pointing it at us and everything. Now I could blame those same rose colored chemicals for my indifference to the situation, but the shit didn't phase me. It phased the boy wonder I think... That's when he decided to put back his teasing combs and go back to high school.

Aquaman is a superhero who can breath under water, swim at 1oo miles an hour or so, has great strength and whose body is super dense, as to withstand the pressures of the ocean's greatest depths. He can also communicate with all forms of sea life. This is who Lou decided he was going to be when he grew up.

In an effort to break his parent's bank account, Lou went to school in Florida to become a bar hopping, concert arranging fish. I mean a marine biologist. He had many adventures with the many schools of fish he met there.
One summer when he came back from the pond, as he did every summer, Me and him and two other Phish spent a weekend at the Jersey shore. Do I need to explain to you why four guys decide to spend their weekend at the shore? Usually the other two mackerel wound up with the girl at the end of the night. Corky was hit or miss. And Lou usually got the ever fucking annoying comment that no 2o year old males psyche can handle, "oh Lou, you're just like a brother to me", but not this night! We all struck out except Lou, well that's not completely true, I think I got a kiss along with a life story. But Lou wound up with the girl this night. When I woke up the next morning I went outside to watch the sunrise. Actually the sun woke me up, because the room that we were staying in had really shitty blinds. So as I watched the sunrise up above the Atlantic ocean, I saw a sight to behold. I noticed a school of dolphins swimming in the horizon. This shit was to good too be true. So I made sure to wake everybody up, because this was just to perfect of an ending to the night where Lou was the Mackerel.

After college Lou got a very promising career feeding fish at Seaworld. After about five minutes of that, he became a high school teacher for a private institution where he taught science to a bunch of boy wonders. After a couple years of scrapping by on the sardines the school was paying Lou to teach, he was pretty much fed up. One night he was watching a Jacque Custo documentary and a commercial came on that said something along the lines of this: "Tired of scrapping all that chum out of the bucket? Come to our school for six months and learn how to turn on a computer. We guarantee that you will triple your income." So Lou packed up his empty liquor bottle collection and moved back to Jersey.

This is when he decided to become the bionic Lou. He rebuilt himself; made himself stronger, faster and thinner. The reason I consider Lou to be my older brother is because he is the friend I go to to help me solve problems. When Lou gets a gun pointed in his face he doesn't need for it to happen five more times before he realizes that maybe he should not put himself into those kinds of situations, unlike Corky, who needs his head banged against a wall three or four times before he gets the message. I am not dismissing the fact that Lou has feelings or pain. I'm just saying that he has a healthy way of dealing with situations ranging from an Uzi being pulled on him to buying real estate. Not to mention he has always been by my side since that initial ride home in the fall of 89. Now I could end this character profile with a cliche comic book ending, something like, "just the beginning." But I would rather say, the reason I started with Lou is because A is for Aquaman.

CORKY'S PRAYER

Dear Technology,
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the advent of the cell phone. Thanks to you I no longer have to waste precious brain space memorizing phone numbers. I was never really that good at it anyway, so I just made due by becoming friends with people who lived within walking distance of me. Luckily for me at this time the video game industry was just getting started so kids still played outside. Jr high school (as they called it in those days) was the most difficult time of my life because I was making friends with people who lived outside of my three corner existence. I had to start memorizing mass quantity of phone numbers so I could talk to friends like Danny for example, who used to call me adnauseum to discuss what kind of gum he should keep in his locker incase the girl of his dreams asked for a piece.

Life got infinitely better for me in high school however and no, not because the teachers had finally given up on me, that was just an added bonus! The reason hs got better for me was that I finally got my drivers license and I no longer had to memorize phone numbers. Now I could just say to a friend like Bob Sage for example, I will meet you at 7- eleven around 9:00 o'clock. This to say at the least was phenomenal . Now I could use those old brain cells fore more important things.

Health teachers taught us that every time a person used marijuana and alcohol it would kill a specific number of brain cells. That's is when the light bulb went off! I started getting uncontrollably excited at the prospect. I figured I must have had tens of thousands of brains cells I wasn't using anymore on phone number storage. It was like every time I took a drag off a joint I was simply erasing a phone number. Kind of like when you delete something from your computers recycle bin. It even has that same distinct, short, crackling sound.

It is now fifteen years later and I have encountered a serious dilemma. I work for one of those fortune 500 company's and now I have to memorize enless amounts of usernames, passwords and pin numbers. I have to change most of my passwords once a month at work. I also have a personal computer and a bank account. I think you are starting to get the picture. So now I am going to have to abstain from any activity that kills brain cells until technology comes up with an answer for usernames, Ids and pin numbers. But I know Technology will. Until then I will just have to use this to get me by.

Technology, grant me the serenity to accept the things you haven't invented yet.
The courage to learn the things that you have invented for my convenience and the wisdom to know that you will.

IT SOUNDS LIKE MR BOYER COULD USE A TRIPPLE SHOT OF MICHAEL LANDON

Dear Mr Boyer,
After a long day of fishing or a hard night at the office I fine nothing more therapeutic than spending some quality time with my old friend Mike. I don't usually meddle in other peoples affairs but when I hear a voice crying out to me I have no choice but to do what I can for a friend, after all that is what Mike would have done. So tomorrow night when you get home from work I would like you to do as I do. Greet your dog. Take off your shoes. Put on your slippers and crawl in to your favorite recliner. Oh... I almost forgot to tell you to make sure to turn on your television and tune in to TV Land.

First TV will bring you a nice glass of Little House On The Praire. Perhaps a 1974 vintage. If they offer you a 1982 vintage kindly thank them but refuse it unless that is all that they have. Tell them you would prefer a 70's vintage. The 80's vintage happens to be a bit too syrupy. You will find this is an excellent way to relax and more importantly unwind. They say that Little House is very good for the blood. I think you will enjoy watching Laura grow up to become a beautiful and upstanding woman, under the love and guidance of her father Charles Ingles. After the hour is up you will find yourself in good spirits. But pace yourself Boyer! You don't want to consume to much Little House with out a little something in your stomach.

After an hour or 58 minutes or so, TV will bring out the orderves. Do not pass up on the Highway to Heaven. The tase is simply divine. You could say its to die for. Here you will be introduced to Jonathan Smith and his friend Mark Gordan(an ex cop and recovering alcoholic). They tour around the country helping people that might have lost their inspiration, for example. Also there is a secret about Jonathan but I don't want to spoil the surprise. I often find Highway Heaven to be a great source of material when I am having theological discussions with co workers who happen to attend the Southern Baptist Seminary. By now you should be feeling very nice, maybe you are even starting to feel a little inner peace. But the buck doesn't stop there Boyer.

Its time for the main course. A grand buffet of morality, adventure, romance and action. Of course im talking about Bonanza. Here we follow the adventures of the Cartwrights. There is Ben the father. Adam the scholar and oldest brother. Hoss the middle son, the "gentle giant." A man who I have never seen bested in a fight not even by Chad Fike or Dolph. And the youngest Cartwright Little Joe. Just as morally strong and every bit as formidable as the others. An interesting side note( all three of the Bens wives died of natural causes). What are the odds? In one episode you find Joe befriend a half white, half Indian man who is out to kill Ben(gulp). The Cartwrights always helped the week and helpless until either they put them back on the right path or they had to drill a whole with a bullet right between their eyes. Incidentally the Cartwrights seem to have been a great role model for the genxers. The three sons are all in their 30's and they all still live at home with pops. Don't be bashfull about helping yourself to seconds with the Cartwrights Boyer. There are exactly 430 helpings to be had. This treasure ran from 1959 to 1973. Not bad, pretty good.

In short I guess what I'm trying to say is don't give up on your dreams Mr. Boyer. Little Joe never did. Jonathan never will and although Charles never achieved his dreams he never gave up on them either. And neither should you. So get back on the horse and start writting as brilliantly as you ever did.

your friend,
Corky
ps. I never really understood what was ment by the expression, "watching TV is a waste of time".

WEISSMULLER THE DEFINITIVE TARZAN?

Have you ever found yourself wondering who is the definitive Tarzan? How many times have you asked yourself this question? How many arguments have you had with friends or family? Ever get those pounding headaches that just wont quit? I never have. Not about Tarzan!

Johnny Weissmuller is clearly the definitive Tarzan. For all of you skeptics out there lets go over the facts. Fact #1. Weissmuller is considered one of the greatest swimmers of all time. Fact #2. He won 5 gold medals in the Olympics. Fact #3. He made over 2500 dollars a week in the 30's and 40's. Fact #4. Bagels and cornbeef sandwiches go great with JW Tarzan pictures.

A good question to ask yourself, "Who else played Tarzan"? You probably can't come up with an answer. Your probably one of those freaks who thinks of Bo Derrik who played Jane in that X rated version of Tarzan, but got nothing for good old Tarzan himself.
Please do not burden yourself with this question again.
Who's the definitive Tarzan?
He Is!