A few years ago, the voters of this city were told that without more money, we would lose most of the metro bus routes would be deleted, and existing routes would be re-routed.  That is exactly what happened.  The price of gas, car, oil, everything rose, along with the temperature in the summer.

Well, we learned our lesson.  We voted for the transportation to receive more money for the drivers, more buses; and yet, no new routes have been added nor have the old routes been restored.  So, what’s going on, this summer is as hot (if not hotter) than last summer.  Where is the money going?  The few buses on the street look the same, still break down the same as always.  Now what do they need.

Awaiting comments.

I believe we have all seen those ‘save the children’ commercials on TV.  You know the ones, an actor/actress comes on the screen (sometimes, with tears in their eyes) asking the viewer to look in the face of a 5 or 6 year old child from a foreign country, while listening to the story of how that child lost his family and how just a few cents a day from you, the  viewer can get that child an education and decent food.

I agree, no child should have to live the way these children are said to be living.  But, what about the the poor, starving children in this country?  In this country, there are a lot of families who have lost their jobs, due to downsizing, lost their homes, and they have no way to make ends meet.  What about the people here?

It is my belief that we should take care of our starving children at home before we feed others.

I’ve heard of classes, in my daughter’s school, where money was collected to send to starving children in Europe, while a family in another American city, had to move because the parents job moved out of the country, and there would be no money coming in.

What do you, the public think.

Finally, one of my stories is being published in an anthology. Goose River Anthology chose one of my stories.  Thanks for all the moral support.  The story Traded Lives will be available on Amazon.com and through Baker and Taylor.  you can also check out www.gooseriverpress.com

One of my favorite songs is El Dorado.  It is a 1967 movie starring John Wayne and Robert Mitchum.  The title song, El Dorado was wonderfully sung by George Alexander.  Although they shared the same title, the movie and song, in my opinion, had nothing to do with each other.  The subject of the movie was about the events that took place in that town, but it is the song (words and music) that caught my fancy.  It deals with the search for one’s El Dorado, or dream, that is, one’s purpose in life.  A man (or woman) has an idea of what he wants to do with his life and he will move heaven and earth to make that a reality.  Some of us have no idea what we want to do and that becomes a goal itself.  The person will do whatever it takes to find his niche or place in life, his El Dorado.  Sometimes the pursuit of those goals or dream becomes a lifelong quest.  Finding that place for himself can be gratifying,  but I also believe that it is the search, the pursuit itself that brings the most excitement, plus the work along the way can be gratifying.

What do you think.

I guess the best place to start is at the beginning, however, my beginning was like so many other African American children. I am the youngest in a family of 4 (Mom, Dad, my older sister, and me). I come from a very talented family. My father could sing, and dance. My mother could cook and sew. She made her own curtains, draperies, etc. My sister could sing and dance. She was even a model before deciding to teach. Then there was me. I could sing, dance, fight, and I was cute as a ladybug. Unfortunately, I could only do these things in my own mind. In reality, I have 2 left feet, that I still trip over, occasionally, and my best singing takes place in the shower, with the door closed! The next Josephine Baker, I’m not. I was more like the main character in THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY. My favorite place was “Daydream Land.”

As far back as I can remember, my best friends were always television and books – fantasy, science fiction, biographies, even horror. To punish me with no tv for the night was always sad, but if my parents had taken away my books, I probably would have cried myself to sleep. You see, I was that funny looking girl with the thick glasses, big eyes, fat nose, and plain face. Oh, my mom bragged on all the time. She would always say, “My older daughter is so graceful, and talented; then there’s Vera, at least she helps me with the housework.” I was useful, though. When other students needed someone to tease, and no one else was around, I was handy. I was also a good target when boys wanted someone to throw rocks at. But in my dreams, I was rescued from these rotten people, and lived with people who listened and tried to understand me (even if I didn’t understand myself).

I must say, I have been blessed. After many years communicating with spirits (gin, whiskey, vodka, rum), I came to one conclusion – that was a waste of time. My wonderful dreamworld turned into a nightmare. I sought and received a reprieve and by God’s grace and a 12th step program, I am living in this world, now, along with my husband and 2 children. Sometimes they drive me crazy, but through them, I’ve gained some confidence in myself. I started keeping a journal. Sometimes I find it easier to express my feelings in story form. One evening, after reading a story in one of the tabloid magazines, the thought popped into my head that “I can write better than this.” Seven years later, I still believe this, and I refuse to quit.

Well that’s all for now, but, please never quit dreaming, and share them. Remember, “Life is but a dream, sh-boom, sh-boom.” Don’t make it a nightmare.

Vera Louch

Sometimes I wonder how a storm can be so beautiful, yet so frightening.  One afternoon, the sky began to fill with thick layers of clouds.  The first layer was white and fluffy.  It began covering the blue sky like freshly laundered white sheets on a bed of blue.  The next layer of clouds were darker and seemed almost close enough  to reach out and touch.

The wind began to blow leaves and trash on the ground, everywhere. The sky began to resemble rushing waves at sea, during a storm.  Large white waves of clouds gave the appearance of large white ship sails being blown across the waters.  Soon, mountains of clouds closed in on patches of blue sky like a pearl colored blanket, hiding the sun, completely. The pearly white background was set in place for the loud, booming drum solo and the electric show of lights, produced by the sound and fury of thunder and lightening.  It was both scary and beautiful to watch, but impossible to drive through as the rain came down heavier than ever.

Once the rain stopped and the sun demanded to be seen, the white mountains and large white waves of couds parted to reveal the blue sky.  As I stared at the clearing sky, I couldn’t help thinking that heaven must be as beautiful as this, for after all, this is God’s work.

The next day, the sky was, once again, preparing itself for another storm.  As the wind grew stronger, the clouds started gathering from all over the sky.  As they layered themselves against the blue sky, the clouds took on a sort of pearl like color.  In one section, a long bolt of lightening silently made a brief appearace.  This time, there was a sort of passage way through one cloud layered section where some of the blue sky still showed.  I could almost imagine bing lifted up and walking through it to see the angels as they danced upon the clouds.

The End.

I am a writer who is trying to get my work published.  From time to time, I will be posting some of my short stories, and poetry here, for opinion, comments, and criticisms (constructive, that is).  As you have probably guessed, my dream is to become a published author. 

Thanks.  Vera.

Thanksgiving day, Today

Today,   When the clock alarms rings, I won’t yank it from the table, and throw it to the floor.

Today, When I discover no tissue on the bathroom roll, I won’t demand the name of the fiend who forgot to change it, while yelling that I’m the only one who remembers to put a new roll on the spindle.

Today, I won’t throw a dish towel at my husband when he greets me with a cheery “Good Morning, Hon.”  Nor will I yell, “What’s good about it!”  I will be thankful that he’s in a cheerful mood, and try to enjoy the day.

Today, While getting the children ready for bed at night and school the next morning, I will not comment on how  I got stuck with such lazy, rotten kids.

Today, I will thank GOD that I woke up.  I will be thankful that we even have tissue.  I will be thankful for my husband and our children.  They are  blessings from GOD, not things we are ‘stuck’ with.

Above all, as I am getting dressed and feeling cranky because my ‘underwear are too tight,’ because of a lack of loving, or some other reason, I’ll remember that there is someone. sitting alone somewhere (maybe with no underwear ) who would love to replace me.

Tomorrow is not promised, I will give thanks, today.

VeraElaine.  5/13/2008