Crazy Uncle Mike

What is this blog about?

Some indication may be given by the original domain names that I pursued.  These included No Straight Lines, No Fucks Given and just from that I hope you glean a couple of things. 

First that I will not be writing about anything that is simple or straight forward.  My life has been a series of luck, horrors, clusterfucks, redemptions, isolation, depression, addiction but always dreams.  I am a teacher and a storyteller by birth and find my joy in both.  So everything that is written on this blog is a story.  I will be writing about my life and every story will have kernels of truth but all are the product of the failings of observation, (eye-witness testimony after all is the least dependable form of evidence).  They will all be a product of my failing memory as I approach my sixtieth birthday, as well as the attitude that accompanies that aging.  And hell, my memory in the moments were often skewed by terror, anger, alcohol and drugs, given that LSD was my favorite drug I cannot be counted on as a reliable narrator.  Finally, these stories will also suffer from the disease all storytellers suffer from, the need sometimes to sacrifice the truth, to tell a better story, the dreaded writer’s embellishment. 

The second thing you should/will glean from this blog is that I no longer have any fucks to give.  So this blog is not for children, nor the faint of heart and it sure is not for the easily offended.  The fact is my stories will range from the early 60’s until today.  The world has changed greatly over that time and I may use language or idioms or refer to things that at one time were the way the world was, right or wrong.  I will offend and hurt people with some of the things I write, this is just the way it is, but I’m approaching sixty and honestly am out of fucks to give.  I noticed a curious thing when I turned fifty, a lot of what used to matter quickly fell away, I lost a lot of my tolerance for bullshit and I didn’t have much to start with.   I decided that I’d given the world fifty years of being the dutiful, son, nephew, cousin, employee, etc… and I wanted my life to be simpler and better.  So I cut a lot of people out of my life, stopped dealing with a lot of the things that didn’t bring me joy, or give to me, what I gave to them.  I’ve gone through my life telling certain stories, only in certain venues or to certain people, whether they were of my failings or family mythologies, or the often worse family realities.  I’ve kept these out of my writings to spare people’s feelings and memories, but as sixty approaches and I can hear the ticking of life’s clock like thunder, I’ve realized they need to be written now or they never may be.

Within these stories, if you know or have known me, you may see yourself in the story.  You’re wrong.  Sure, if I’m telling a story about a midget cowboy in a bar in Missouri, you might have been there.  The person I’m describing may seem like you, a small part of what is written might have actually happened. But as I stated above the story is a product of imperfect memory, writer’s embellishment and occasionally some good old fashioned lying.  NOTHING IN THIS BLOG SHOULD BE CONSIDERED TRUE OR FACTUAL!!!  Even if it actually happened.