Archive for August, 2017

Sometimes you’re the bug…

August 26, 2017


Have you ever heard the old saying…

“Some days you’re the windshield, some days you’re the bug”?

Well, yesterday I was the bug. Even now, 24 hours later I’m still searching for the reasons why…or am I? Maybe deep down inside I already know why I was the bug and just don’t want to acknowledge that I played small part in my momentous crashing.

A thought…

Have you ever danced around an issue so long that the path becomes worn and you just want the universe to help you make a decision, because you’re uncertain that if you jump—it might be the wrong time? Perhaps this is the universe saying my path has now become a rut and things need to change. But how does one move from a space of habit and comfort to a place of unknown variables, with faith and joy? And why does the cattle prod seem to be so much sharper this time?

One would have thought that with all the good things one has done and the levels of higher conscience one has tapped into, that somehow the universe would pat you on the back for your efforts…not slap you across the fanny to get your attention.

That’s the unexpected piece…the piece that doesn’t fit the puzzle…the round peg-square hole combination that completely catches you off guard and tips you off your axis. Yesterday was that day; the day that plucked me from my path by the collar and then dumped another even larger pile of rocks in my path.

Why? What was the purpose?

Does the universe want me to stop in my path or do they want me to climb higher?

Confused, I’m currently using the pile of rocks to sit and rest in quiet contemplation. Is this current group of people in my life a good fit for the work I do? Are they toxic or encouraging–do they support or scatter my energies? It’s a universal conundrum, one I do not suffer alone.

But why the bug?

Haven’t I earned the right to be the windshield with all my good deeds?

Sometimes being the bug can bring clarity; it splays your life before you in all its pretty and ugly parts and then allows you to stand back and objectively observe each piece for what it is. So maybe yesterday was the wake-up call that I needed to either change my scenery, change my perspective or get a bigger shovel. The trouble is… how do I know which message is the right one? How do I know when it’s time to leap or simply time to shift my emotional weight to another foot and look at life through another perspective?

Thus, the rocks. This huge pile of rocks that tumbled from the skies yesterday, that now seem to taunt me—asking me to decide if they are an obstacle or a step up to somewhere and something else…something better. Still raw from this encounter, I have spent the better part of the last 24 hours simply tapping at this pile with a tiny chisel of questions, chipping away at each boulder trying to break its message down.

Can I own some of the collective confusion…did I somehow subconsciously trigger an unwanted, but cosmicly calculated avalanche in order to force a change in my path? Maybe…


You see, when negativity or negative people begin to surround you, you tend to back off—trying to give yourself time and space to analyze their intentions and actions and to effectively shield yourself and redistribute your strength.  And gun shy, because certain people or situations have a pattern of pulling you in long enough to set you up again …I simply decided to increase the distance. You know…walked on the other side of the metaphorical street, avoided the high traffic areas of convergence or floated through the sea of others without acknowledging quasi attempts to re-engage.

Leaving things behind…unsaid…mostly because there was little point to go over old territory issues and rejoin the cycle. But by doing so, when does the shield of protection, suddenly become interpreted as the weapon of irritation? When does one’s lack of engagement for self-preservation become, another’s new arsenal for annoyance?

Thus, my pile of rocks still blocks my path. So to help break it down, let’s ask a few more questions.

When does walking away from someone or something that breeds only negativity become the stick that drives you further away or the cattle prod used in reverse to poke you to re-engage? And how much of this is your inner self telling you that you need to move on before you have somehow simply surrendered to their endless patterns? And why does being the bigger person all the time, somehow make you feel smaller inside your head?

Again…my pile of rocks shifts…but still remains!

After a few more questions, the pile seems smaller…still there, but smaller so I will continue to chip away at each boulder trying to decipher each one’s meaning. So, trying to find the lesson… here I sit with my pile of rocks, pushing one this way—another that way—trying to clear a path to where I thought I was supposed to be headed. And if another pile of rocks falls after I have cleared my current path? Then, the message is clear that I should change my direction and allow the universe to help me navigate the second pile by heading in a new direction, with a new perspective.

Even now, as one rock begins to fall on its own…I am forced to readjust my sitting position and another rock is released, falling away. Suddenly, I begin to realize something else.

Sometimes a pile of rocks is just a pile of rocks and my experience may have been just a small part of someone else’s bigger avalanche, meant for another’s lesson or healing. In that case…may I find a diamond in the bottom of the pile before this day ends and go back to being the windshield!

Broken angel wings…

August 15, 2017


There was a hint of fall in the air this morning and even though that does not mean that summer is over…it is almost as if this summer never really began. Locked in the throes of additional research, endless theatre programs and familial obligations, the summer sun and feathery clouds drifted were they willed—all without my permission or my ability to enjoy them.

Though still in physical residence, the days seemed to run their course without me truly present to enjoy them.

So, I have made a decision…today I stop.

Today, I will greet the morning with the enthusiasm it deserves, relish the smell of rain or the warm breeze that tickles at my desire to play hooky from life for a day and simply breathe-without course or agenda to drive its destination.

In and out shall have to be directive enough, for this soul is in dire need of simply enjoying the moment that is. So busy with chasing clues and penning results, I have all but lost contact with the world that spins about me and I have need of returning to my senses and not my head.

In deciding to do so, I stopped long enough in the hall to see a small knick-knack that had somehow been damaged in the constant swinging of dog tails that pass their way to my office. Carefully, I took the lid off the ornate little wire cage that holds this small knick-knack…an angel winged kitten.

Now, being a dog personally…one might find its existence in my house awkward. Still, I found it a curiosity, as the kitten had been made complete with a large set of angel wings attached to its back. At the time ten years ago, I thought it merely cute—not prophetic and so purchased it. In an even more unlikely setting, I found a small birdcage in the same shoppe and thought, ‘Oh how clever of me’, if I were to but place said tiny winged creature inside this cage! Irony at its best, no? A winged cat, trapped in a bird cage!

Irony at its best, no? A winged cat, trapped in a bird cage!

A winged cat, trapped in a bird cage!?

But today, irony be damned.

Beneath the tiny chair that holds this unlikely menagerie…I found the broken tip of a wing and so set out to save this poor angel cat from its injury. Needless to say; cat, wing and I were immediately covered in crazy glue and while I was stuck to it and it to me…I paused to appreciate the sense of good karma I was building in repairing the small wee plastered creature and hoped that the day would bring us both a smile from heaven.

Soooooo…. even though most of my posts are filled with the things that go bump in the night and tales of horrors and villainous acts—for this one day, let there be something lighter in our baskets to carry about. As usual, tomorrow I shall return to the detective I innately am and will fill you with information and appalling details of the cases I am about and all will return to normalcy and cadence…but for today?

Today, I just wish to be among the earth and not among the many facts and figures that plague my brain each second of the day. Today, I want to just be the winged cat that got out of her cage—even if only for a few minutes, to have her wings re-tipped and the irony of her very existence appreciated!

Happy Birthday Mary…


August 7, 2017



Today’s Tarot card is the 7 of Wands…the checkmate card and for those of you who have been following my investigations, today is significant.

Today I declare, CHECKMATE! And I would like to thank in part, not only those who have helped along the way…but a recent series on the History Channel, “THE AMERICAN RIPPER; H. H. HOLMES”, whose most recent findings have helped to support my lengthy supposition through an elaborate maze of facts, evidence and circumstance contained in my most recent novel: “LORDS OF THE HARVEST: A TRUE CRIME INVESTIGATIVE MEMOIR”.

Now, what you might say does this awkward and antiquated segue have to do with the Columbus Stocking Strangler kills of 1977 and 1978?

The answer…EVERYTHING!!!

Let me explain.

Ok, so we have done the polite nibbling around the corners of the truth and then the not so polite hints at what the book is whispering to folks in Columbus, but today…maybe we tell them the bulk of it all. You want to?

Sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Ok, here we go….


You have been lied to for over almost 4 decades. The man who killed your 7 elderly women, including Coca Cola’s own Kathleen Woodruff…is NOT the man sitting in Jackson, Georgia on DEATH ROW for these crimes. Oh, I know your courts and your DA tell you he is the guy…but evidence doesn’t lie…people do.

Want to know how I know?


Carlton Gary, while not the kind of man you bring home to meet mamma…may be a lot of things, none overtly respectable or exemplary…but is he really a serial killer? The evidence says, nope. The shoe-mold doesn’t match…bite-mold doesn’t match…DNA doesn’t match and most of the original witness testimonies and statements given to your Police and Sheriff’s Department don’t match either. Surprised to hear that? You shouldn’t be. He was never the real prime suspect and your law enforcement knows it. Well, some of them do.

To find your killer (s) you have to look a little more home grown than Carlton Gary…and the answer as to whom this true suspect might be will make you want to wretch. Why?

Because he has been in your homes, hanging your drapes, raking and planting your yards for years. His friends? Oh, you may know them too. They walked your streets, loved the arts and graced the halls of many a university or college, spouting their flowery poetry and spinning their medieval yarns as they went. One even left the Manhattan Project to become an artist, so he could hide their dark deeds in his “paste-ups”. Clever boy…he liked puzzles too!

Curious now as to how an American Poet Laureate and a famous “collage’ artist gave up their souls to the devil, so they could practice their cultist beliefs right within your historic district and never bat an eye about how many bodies or body parts may lay just beneath your heirloom roses or your custom _______________?

Gosh, I hate to give the best parts of the book away after all the work that has gone into it, but here’s a juicy tidbit…your killer is still alive!

You see, the best thing about a psychopath is their ego. Dang, if it doesn’t always rat them out! You can be so clever, for so long and hide and bury and cheat and lie and buy people off and in the end, you can even fake your death…but your ego just doesn’t give a damn about being cautious–he wants to be recognized and admired, and will call you out every day of the week and all day on Sunday!

Yesterday, as a matter of fact!

Today is the 7th of the 8th month, a full moon and an eclipse—all in the same space! The man in the traditional 7 of Wands of the Tarot has just planted his final stave in the ground to mark his territory and the completion of his task! Checkmate Mr. Landscaper, Mr. Poet, Mr. Artist and Mr. Historian!

It’s the checkmate card, so…Checkmate Mr. Landscaper, Mr. Poet, Mr. Artist and Mr. Historian!

There are no more moves on the board to be played…game over. You lose!

If you come forward to challenge me, you confirm my theory and still go to prison. If you sue me for libel, you identify yourselves and everyone will then begin to suspect the same things that I do. If you die, you still burn in Hell…but wasn’t that the point all along?

The devil has taken two down… two to go.

You read, The Book of the Dead and Liber Al…now read my book. I think the two of you remaining will find it interesting reading. I’m sure every FBI agent and law enforcement agency and attorney who received the book already did. Now, perhaps you should read it… tell me if I missed anything.

I know you’ll want to book that flight to the West coast, but wait…they may be watching. I know I will be. Just like that last time, after you checked your mail…remember?

Now, I have printed a good many of these books since the end of last year and along the way added some stunning new information, so I apologize to those who have some of the first copies. But the final edition is now racing its way through the ether net to make way for the greatest announcement of all.

Today…I believe I can say, some of the most famous serial killings in the United States have finally been pieced together. Four men, one mission! Your mentor would have been proud.

Buy the book Columbus…you need to know who your neighbors really are!


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