"...wasps"

'Had a bullet just miss my head on Albany Avenue in Brooklyn during the 1990's Crack Wars. It's true what George Washington said about that. Not the Crack wars...bullets.

"Fired musket rounds have the Deep Hum of Angry Wasps." It did.

I had three major drug overdoes as a kid. I died, but kept coming back. Who knows why.

On the upside. I slept outside with pals on the balcony of a skyscraper in mid-town as a youth. This while an orange full summer moon rose over the Chrysler Building behind us. There were bright green streaks of meteors as well. A night to remember.

I nearly drowned as a little boy.

The upside here is I didn't die. I remember being knocked down by a gigantic wave. Then being dragged out to sea. I saw bubbles grains of sand seaweed, and these would have been the last things I saw.

However I wasn't getting out of this that easy. Because after the sand, and sea weed came this bleeping big arm with an equally big hand attached to it.

There was one of them Army wrist watches on that arm which grabbed me, and hauled my little butt back to the beach. I think I was too freaked out to cry.

All I remember is being picked up, and I think passed on to my Mom. There was all this noise yelling I think crying.

I don't remember anything about the man that saved me.

Other than his big hairy arm, and his watch.

Mind you I've nearly bought it any number of times since. However that one stays with me. I'm here today to whine, and complain because of some neat guy with big hairy arms.

Ain't life something.

I'm now 71. Much closer to 100 than I am to 20 these days. I'm in the final reel. Bleep it. I woke up more or less this morning. I'll take it from there.