The Three Wise Guyz of Pepe’s Cove…

The Three Wise Guyz of Pepe’s Cove…


I have a not so tall tale to tell, I can relate, at this point, looking back, not that far, a few day’s past last actually, at this point, present, I am not sure if perhaps I was riding through a vision, a south jersey spiritual calling or hallucination (or just plain old reality), that morning on that beach, the so named cove, that I happened upon, quite on purpose in fact, the beach should be abandoned this time of year, only the domain of the seagulls and wandering fools such as myself, so stumbling up the roughly hewn sandy path through the dunes, I was quite surprised, that I was not alone, and those three figures seemed equally surprised to receive a visitor, to this piece of particular real estate, their kingdom, their court, clearly their land and personal port on the atlantic sea, being from somewhat the surrounding area, and familiar with local customs (hopefully), I gave the old Jersey nod, almost like tipping your hat but with no hat, sort of a head bob, and the long time honored verbally thick greeting “how ya’ doin”, thankfully my attempt at basic communication was satisfactory with three “how ya’ doin”s sent back in my direction, I was through the gate, they slipped immediately back into their inter-casual ball busting banter, I take a quick survey of the crew trying not to look like I was taking a quick survey, so I pretended to scan the beach, like some desolate deserted desert on the ocean there is literally nothing around but sand, and the dunes to frame the borders between here and the water, and this must have been low tide, the lowest of low tide as the water’s edge seems miles away, almost a different country all together, the three wise guys see this as well, and surmise, “I’ve never seen the water out like this, too far, too far”, and then the leader (my assumption), from his throne of gleaming white plastic and matching too small table, remarked “this is what happens when you have one of those sunami things”, nods of approval from the other magistrates follow, I get a good glimpse of the three now, the king (the only one wearing a crown as it were) seated in the middle and slightly back, knitted wool hat adorned with yarn pom pom for circumstance and rank, his robe the jacket of the local football team, no not the eagles (thankfully), the giants (my team as well, he must be a wise king), he is flanked by what seem like his guards, filling in, perhaps filling out their member’s only jackets in faded blue and black respectively, old man sneakers, and white sox, very white sox, complemented by mom jeans, and all three with the official royal drink in hand, a bud light, the ‘sunami’ talk goes on for awhile, I am still a little off centered that I came across this unexpected fiefdom, I admit I am tempted to join in the ridiculous conversation, but I hold my tongue, until the next story is spun, “did you see those big shrimp the other day, there was like a pile of ‘um over there” (points southward to a certain spot on the shoreline), “yeah, the birds were going crazy, did you grab any of those things?”, “those are like gold man, you could have made a bundle!”, “how many were there, like 50, 2000 or what?”, “what are those things called anyways? them big shrimp, they got a name, like little lobsters or sumtin”, I could not refrain as the big shrimp little lobster debate raged for what seemed like ages, I turned, “Prawns…” I blurted out, trying to time my quip as to not disturb the natural order of this circle of friends, they rejoiced with the knowledge I laid down, “Prawns! Yeah, that’s the name, they were prawns Johnny” (or maybe it was Joey… or both, or something similar), now their attention was on me, I could see the look in their eyes ‘look at the smart guy, let’s see what else he knows’, and with that came the question “do you know how much those things go for a pound? did I really give up gold?”, “I honestly don’t know, I don’t see them too often in the stores” I answered, and in dropped a drop of true disappointment, as apparently my knowledge was not so vast to satisfy the veracity of this small crowd after I built up expectations with my prawn gambit, sensing this setting of my sun, I blurted out “hey, but forget about it, it won’t matter after that Tsunami washes us away anyway”, this garnered a wry smile and a couple of genuine laughs, they were satisfied, and I must say I was quite satisfied with myself for jumping out of the jackass fire, so without further adieu I bid farewell, and departed from their lands, might I see them some other day on some other enchanted sands…

notes:. the real story, well, this is really it, I explored a lot of beaches on this trip (the photo is legit mine), I was really really not expecting anyone to be there, this seemed literally in the middle of nowhere, sure, there are houses, but most are summer retreats, who was I to walk onto a beach with these three who come to escape their wives and lives for a short time, I entered near this beach many more times that day… not a soul in sight, so maybe this was something magical or mystical, who am I to know ?

Music? some ambient goodness to get you through… c’mon, trust me already… dig it…

Cape May NJ Travel Log (part 2)… “in the dead of…”

Cape May NJ Travel Log (part 2)… “in the dead of…”



Preambleyes, I know this post is out of order (this was written mostly on day 2 of my recent vacation) but I finally got all my notes together and transcribed, if you want to read up on Cape May (GO HERE), but in short let me just say, this is a place I have been coming to my entire life, it is an old shore resort town, full of history, hundreds of years old in parts… that said.. here goes….

new towns or cities just do not have the between your fingers feel, the weight, the very taste of history itself spinning slowly in the fog in the air, apparitions in plain sight, hollow sounds floating on the voice of the wind and the ever present, sometimes distant, but ever sounding crash of the waves off in the darkness, even on a night like this, dreary, drizzle hanging over or hitting your face depending on which way you turn, even on a night like this, some might shy miserable, yet, I feel drawn to walk the town, there is both something equally eerie and calming in a nearly deserted resort town, as if the buildings are exhaling from all the commotion of the summer season, homes and buildings that have literally seen and been witness to hundreds of such seasons, taking in the winter to rest their old bones, throw on some new clothes of paint, perhaps replace a beam or two, to encounter again the coming crowds and blazing sun, but that is all rear mirror now, the sun falls short in the day and never quite reaches room temperature or above, just enough light to inform and know you are awake, but in the night, the buildings can sigh, a collective hum across these old streets, this time of year is far creepier than true winter, every scrape of leaf means you are being followed, you look, and see a leaf, but are convinced otherwise, so I understand the phrase now better than I had previously, “the dead of winter”, yes, winter is more desolate, the leaves are all gone, the moon light invades and penetrates around within every inch, guardians, the trees, bare, but not tonight, a slight breeze bends the light, conjuring shadows and forms, unpredictable sights, sounds like shallow words breathed upon your neck, spirits nipping up at your legs, a cold bone finger reaches gently glances against your ear lobe, just out of your periphery but somehow felt, in these moments, strolling through this old town, as the town observes me when I think I am the observer and not just the interloper, I am unsure if I wish to find a ghostly anomaly, some proof of haunting, of life understood as after or in some other dimension, so sure would be belief if I perceived such a thing, or would the fright be more than I could bear, or the disbelief as logic might kick in and overwhelm the sense sold of my eyes, all of these things boil up inside my cauldron mind, the curiosity makes possibility lurk around every corner, surely if there were lost souls they would be here, here in this old shore town, shipwrecks, lover’s jilted, homicide guilted, accidental dispatch, all captured within the memories of these victorian walls, somewhere in a window, I am sure, I would see a form, or a passing glance, a glow, an orb, would I trust my sober nature or lay favor to my rampaging imagination, for I do not know, for I never found out, this evening, as all the creeping I perceive is the autumn playing out final tricks, before the time of the dead of has conspired, to slow down life to the point, of silence, except for the ever dull roar of the ocean waves, just over the dunes, just out of sight.

Music: Cream – As You Said

thoughts from the porch… end of vacation edition…

thoughts from the porch… end of vacation edition…


The last day, always, or at least it seems so, the cream of the crop, or at least perception be, from my hotel, the ocean is gleaming, sparkling morning sun fingers playing upon the little tiles of tide ridges, looking out my hotel window, no wind, no temperature to consider, just the visual, I walk down to take in one more final gulp of this ocean town, now, I am standing at the cusp of the beach, there is one of those small beach fences just mere kindling and chicken wire, just past the sign that warns you about there being no lifeguard, morning coffee in hand, more like my habits back on the mainland, to which I am summoned to return in a matter of hours, in retrospect, maybe this is not such a perfect day, a bit hazy, a bit cold, I close my eyes to feel the sun on my face, granted, the warming seems more mental than actual, and it is, if I concentrate for a bit I can feel the tops of my ears are quite exposed and colder, but somehow, with my eyes closed, a hazed globe shining on, the waves crashing down left to right, the occasional intrusion of the world around, am old diesel engine kicking up rattling throat, conversations about nonsense and such as people walk by, behind me on the boardwalk and benches meant for such things, I try to soak it all in, somehow capture this moment to store as long as I can, I know this is futile and fleeting but I inhale with hope anyway, moments like these choose me to ignore my reason, and my mind drifts…


I imagine the shore and the wonder of the original explorers, I think of how vast the ocean must have seemed and actually been, that moment, that eruption of emotion when they first spotted this shore, on the horizon, a hallucination for months of maritime lore, the realization that even among something so vast and unknown, had an end when no one had found such end until that initial landing, is that the pinnacle of man? discovery past known boundaries? our hope, our quest, to be at the beginning and end of that next discovery, there is, the pure seed of hope resident in that, all the despair, the lost ships and lost men, sunken lives in so many centuries past, but now what was once the impossible pass, is just to us a simple basic task, maybe that is what I was meant to take away this day, not just the same sun to bear upon my face, I open my eyes and nothing has changed, outwardly, an owner and a dog walking, a couple being a couple out on the sand in their moment of love, me, standing like an observant statue on the cusp of this beach, I reach for one more slug of my latte, take one more deeper breath, snapshot with my mind, one more look, a postcard to take away, and that lesson of hope, against the vast ocean, against the unknown, to ride the waves to where they go…

notes… no matter how many times I visit, Cape May surprises me, and now that I am reaching out to other places, there is so much history here in my garden state, and history is not just unknown things or lost battles, history is people, people who lived here and did things, we forget or are never told, but we should remember or learn, because that is ourselves in the end, the human story struck out against nature, nature will win, humans will disappear, the dinosaurs were here far longer than we, but we do not act that way, I suppose that is the way it will always be for top species… I hope there is more, out there, among the stars….

Cape May NJ Travel Log (part 4) “A Tale of Two Beaches”

Cape May NJ Travel Log (part 4) “A Tale of Two Beaches”


I think I might have had my fill of route 347 and 47, both roads unknown to me previously, and now, I think I have driven every paved inch of them, I knew, well, I looked online, that the weather was set to be the best for my endeavors today in terms of outdoor activity, so I woke up early, um, at least I tried, 10am on a vacation day might as well be first prize, so I was out and about by 10:20, grabbed a large latte at the local coffee joint, I was THAT guy making jokes about ‘beating the rush’ (there we no one within 10 miles of the place), so in retrospect, ugghh to me, but at least the coffee was good, that is the important thing, dialed in my destination, once again off into townships and towns I had only googled about, destination: Seabreeze Beach, I mean, with a name like that what could be off ?



Most of the drive was an uneventful romp through alternating front yard scrap yards and vast tracts of farms, or something that resembles farms, and lots and lots of houses (some on wheels) with a pentacle symbol on them, the road to the beach was long and then became longer, oy does GPS boost the old confidence because there was a few times there I was convinced I was off the path, or lost, or both, but I stuck to my I-guns and followed along, seabreeze road just meanders for days though dotted by a house or two and turns that seem like streets but have menacing red emblazoned Private Property signs screaming along fences, some of them look electrified, maybe to keep in the livestock, livestock ? yeah, I think I left New Jersey at some point and was plowing through Nebraska or some other plains state, this is not my mother’s New Jersey, that is for sure, so, without a hitch, the GPS is dead on, 1 hour and some minutes, I find myself at a road closed sign (oh no, not again) but just to my right, seems like a path for cars, I take it, the road (as it were) abruptly ends and sand begins, granted I have four wheel drive, but there is no way I am testing it out here, wherever out here is, a sketchy road dotted with abandoned looking half houses or double shacks, I pop it into reverse and park up on what might be the side of the ‘road’, next to a pile of old tires stacked near an old tree, someone should film a horror movie here, but that is for another day, so onward to the beach, tale one…


this area has an interesting history, I won’t go into it all now but if you like (read up here ), so this beach is rather unique in that there were houses here, there was a town (booming shore/summer town), now? eh, not so much, in fact if you look closely in can be a bit depressing, there are still a few residents hanging on but I didn’t not see any (the road to the collection of houses that people actually occupy is blocked off, I respected their boundaries, even if I was quite curious), as the beach unfurls in front of you, well, you can see how this looks like modern ruins, cinder blocks, metal rusting in the ocean wake, concrete jigsaw puzzle with no solution, nature growing grass between or barnacles on, the northern exposure is the resident’s land with a ‘No Trespassing’ sign as desolate and alone as the flag on the moon, this place looks more apocalyptic than what Heston was cursing in the original Planet of the Apes, except I had no one to yell at, so for an hour plus drive this seemed like a real bust, I gave it the full walk through, a whole eight minutes later the beach was over, except, that curiosity itch, had to push a little further right? so southward there were no warning signs, just this weird house up on blocks like a subaru brat your brother was working on, how do they even get in the door ? strange, creepy, I an definitely alone out here… aren’t I? so I walk along the sea wall which seems like a blanket of cinder blocks rolled up against the tides, there are some fresh tire marks on a semi-road, so… well, let’s just take a few steps I think…

the road less traveled, unfortunately not the case, there is nothing more disheartening than being in a wildlife preserve and seeing tons of human left garbage, for whatever reason the garbage of choice seems to be modelo beer cans and corona bottles, with a sunkist orange soda two liter or three thrown down, there seems to be some sort of construction taking place (underground pipes of some sort), so I am not sure what to think, my hopes sink but something carries me on, I suppose I just go until I hit a natural obstacle I can not overcome, I’m a stubborn one like that, I press on this logging road, well, not literally a logging road, the tracks kind of remind me of that, of course the ocean is off on my right the entire time, then there is this shack hidden in the brush, intact enough to be occupied and the door is open, damn that is creepy, again, I am trusting in being alone out here, I’m not armed, with a gun at least, we’ll leave that at that, so I press on along the road next to the cinder block wall, I pass a couple of camp sites, more like ‘we had beers here’ sites, campfires that remind me not of camping as a kid but sloppy drunk people burning most anything in a ring of rocks, suddenly, the whole thing opens up, I might have well passed into another realm, another place, another dimension, behind me to the left opens up a beautiful tidal marsh, in front of me this little island between and then a pristine beach on the other side of the channel, as is my rule, laid out earlier, I press forward, the water looks deeper than I am willing to go (knee deep is the limit today), but in actuality I can see the shoreline under the water, where the tide marsh and ocean are colliding, I can see the bottom and follow along, such a strange revelation, this almost feels like I am walking on the water, if I step a few feet in either direction I will surely be up to my waist, there was this little bridge, in essence, for me to take, to the little atoll in the middle of… well, wherever I am, I can not call this Seabreeze beach, this is something else, something in complete contrast, maybe what this place was before the hand of man, test the water to try and reach the far beach, not today, way too deep, damn, I will have to settle for a look, and come back when the weather is warmer and certainly the water, so I may explore further, but my nature battery is recharged, from the depth of the depression of recent ruins to pristine beauty and amazing views, I wonder how many have not come this far and stopped only in that sad spot near where I parked.

post script… on the drive back I encountered a flock of about twenty wild turkeys, and they were skittish and did not even allow me a photo ! I get it though, this time of year I would be nervous if I were as tasty as they are…

For those interested… I have been uploading a bunch of videos to my YouTube Channel, this has been a strange week but a good one, the wind has kicked up, I can hear it behind me, tomorrow is not going to be a fun day, a storm is coming off the water…

Cape May NJ Sunset Beach…

Cape May NJ Sunset Beach…

IMG_4066yeah, well, sometimes you go for the low hanging fruit, sunset beach is just… one of those things you do in Cape May, regardless of season, it works, it is a destination for a reason, I huddled in place for just the right moment, and damn is it sweet, so if you think you know New Jersey, you don’t, is there a reason we have a bad reputation ? sure… but the real Jersey shore is more than people know…  that wreck out there?  that is the SS Atlantus… ’nuff said.

Cape May, travel log part 3… (not today, not thwarted twice)

Cape May, travel log part 3… (not today, not thwarted twice)

(yeah I know, I skipped part two, I sort of wrote it but didn’t finish it, so, maybe I will get to it, maybe not, anyway, here is today…)


as has been my mission the past couple of years (has it been that long?), I have endeavored to find the nooks and corners of my state, sure it took me decades to realize this mission, but better now than never, although I am harboring down in Cape May I looked around the map of this garden state to find places that are out of the way but within striking distance of this shore town base, today was my first day of trekking about (yesterday was just not conducive no doubt, hiking in the unknown spaces in the rain is just not my thing, especially on vacation), so I struck out to see a lighthouse, is it the sea? the buildings themselves? the history? I suspect all of these engender my fascination with lighthouses, so I chose one I had never been, East Point Lighthouse (picture above by me), this is a different part of the state, some of the landscapes are almost alien, salt marshes stretched out split up by rivers I never really heard of until today, dennis township ? houses that range from extended trailers to brick mansions back to condemned barns and everything in between, far away from the urban blueprint planning I see in the day to day up in the other end of the state, no main streets, I only once happened upon a shopping center with a cluster of typical stores, other than that all local business run from houses, and lots of old boats in yards, and soon even this smattering of civilization faded away to less and less, just a road with marshes seemingly all around, thankfully GPS leads me through, only a few minutes to go, a sign for the lighthouse, and I am almost there, and then, the unthinkable, after an hour drive in all territory new, ROAD CLOSED… and in my jersey accent “ya gotta be kiddin me!”, so I drive up the road a little anyway, because, well, maybe the road was closed for other people, but no, there was a full on construction crew humming, bulldozers and the like causing all sorts of commotion and approaching, so I back track, quite literally, and try the road down to the left, dead end bay, but I am here, I have to do SOMETHING right? I park, get out and at least manage to take a few photos from a distance, and it looks like they are rebuilding the beach around the lighthouse, so how can I complain? so I pack up my disappointment and look down at my little list of places, time to try the next one on the list, what else could go wrong ?


I program in the destination, Thomas Beach/Observation Deck… the world has whimsy today, I follow my GPS to a tee and wind up doing basically a big square back to the same road the lighthouse is on, seriously? yes… but at least there is a turn off before I went back down that lighthouse dead end, this is more typical of south Jersey wildlife areas, a barely two lane road, not good signage, one way in, one way out, so I find Thomas Beach Rd, and down I go, past a house, with all sorts of cool nautical trinkets adorning all the windows and doors, the type of thing you see down here but never get tired of, well, at least I don’t, I imagine it takes a certain type of person to live this next to the grid but not quite off, perhaps this will be my fate of homestead one day I think, so down the beach road, sounds promising, the land is a barren marsh this time of year, although the reeds glow in the midday sun, zipping along is quite calming, what is that in the road over there? some type of large bird, a wild turkey is my first thought but too skinny, I pull up slowly, a pheasant, much bigger than I reckoned, I had never seen one up close, and the peasant was not too happy with my spying, quickly disappearing into the brush, and yes, the camouflage is impressive, maybe today won’t totally flame out? a short while the later, the observation deck comes into view, perhaps not the largest or highest I have encountered but at least I know I am in the right place, I park, there is a boat launch on both sides of the lot, the water from the marsh is also close to my spot, but I shake off the possibility of flooding, not as if I have some local knowledge, maybe I just did not want to re-park, there is not much to observe up on the deck, a couple of ospreys off in the distance, the sun rippling on the water in between the reeds, it’s calming, but I itch to see a bit more, this is a beach road after all, so where’s the beach? unbeknownst to me, the road to the beach is closed to car traffic, no matter, I don’t mind a hike and this being flat land, not a big deal, so I pack up, bottle of water in the old pack, my cameras and such, leaving my car behind seems odd but that is just the urban bug in me, I highly doubt car break ins are an issue here, I could probably leave the thing unlocked (but will not), I meander down the path, gravel and puddles, the later which I avoid as I am not wearing water proof gear, little fish are startled by my bumbling, racing out of the protected shallows as I walk along, I guess I come upon the midway point, there are a couple of cement benches, I do not need them now, I certainly will on the return trip, however, the observation deck is shrinking smaller in my rear view, and then I see them, looming, a few large puddles, or perhaps more, let me get closer and inspect, grrr, no way around without getting totally wet, these are not the shoes for this, I have proper gear back in the car, the sun has gone to playing hide and seek, mostly hide so a manageable 50-ish is beginning to dive, damn it, I will not be denied twice today, this will not beat me, I will get to this beach!


I start back, startling all the little fish again, cement benches, check, there is the reflective gate blocking the road, check, back to the car to grab my crocs, I don’t want to lug my marsh boots all the while, I again contemplate calling it a day right now, no way, I have to do this, back I go, gate passed, cement benches, and back to the water hazard that stopped me dead earlier, I slip off my merrils and socks, plop on my crocs, here I go, not bad so far, and then ankle deep arctic cold, “just move on” I think, kind of like walking on hot coals, just go man go, is this really worth it for some beach? I’m here now might as well just move those feet, and the deed is done, the gauntlet met and slain, back to dry gravel ground again, there is a ridge not that far ahead, I think I hear the roar of the ocean, but it also may be a distant helicopter or plane, but I must admit the sound does put a little pep in my step, forgetting how damn cold my feet were a moment ago, a blue heron flies off, they are quite skittish you know, even for such a large bird, that roar, that roar approaching, that is definitely the ocean, up over that crest, a dune, the reeds reveal a sandy path, to yes, the beach, finally, a destination met, bucket list this puppy off my list, not a soul in any direction, a private beach for my own discretion, a couple more of those cement benches but again I pass them by for now I am set out onto a barren secluded beach of my own, no feet aside from mine on this day at least, the gentle crashing of the waves, the reeds in the wake bending back and forth, was this worth it ? this was, for me, in spades…


post script… the path back to the car was no longer flooded, in fact the water receded greatly, so my trial by cold water was more a matter of tide, I stand by my story, however…

Cape May travel log part 1…

Cape May travel log part 1…

clouds cloudy dawn dramatic
Photo by Francesco Ungaro on

I wish I could make movies, with the film of my eyes, so I could really show you what I am seeing, not just in the usual dimensions, but with the actual lens of my mind, I am driving, down a way, I know so well, and literally a countdown, New Jersey is many things but one thing in particular is the spine, the Parkway, the numbered roadway that seems to control destiny here in the garden state, tonight I am travelling, due south, or as far south as will allow, down from 131 all the way to exit 0, ZERO, and then a bit further, in the summer months this would be a head scratching mess, bumper to bumper, taillights, eye locked eye fights, horns, accidents causing throngs of frustration rippling up the roadway for miles, but not today, and certainly not tonight, the sky is spitting, and misting, the bright dashes embedded in the asphalt road are hypnotic and monotonous both, eight lanes in the busy part of the state become four and then down to two, bridges over unseen waters rush on by, there are very few cars on the road tonight, a Sunday, to be sure, but the hour is not that late even if it seems later, six PM sharp seems more like midnight dark, but who am I to say, exit 42 just went by, not much further to go, no GPS, no maps, I know all this route well, a ritual perhaps, my yearly coming here, well, there, when I get there, Cape May, all these years and I never thought to research the name as to why ‘May‘, and the thought will probably be gone before exit 30, or 12, or the Wildwoods, ever so closer to my shore resort destination…


I pass exit zero, without much or any fanfare, the land seems bare, wrapped up and tucked away for winter, not barren or abandoned, just buttoned down to the point of just enough, I suppose this is what hibernation is, except for humans living in places where the wind, wake and weather dictate behavior, for a time, for a season, this time, so I have arrived, a resort town, directly on the ocean, of course the hotel is located on ‘Beach Avenue’, the town is not quite empty, but the word “vacancy” is in more display than car lights on the thoroughfares, as a matter of fact the traffic lights are also put to sleep, just a blinking yellow where proper popular crossings used to be, no matter, there is nothing to encounter, just the misty rain in the streetlights light, the blinking yellow light flashes on the sides of the dark buildings like predictable lightning, my old hotel with a parking lot occupied by only one other car, this is why I come here, this time of year, I am almost disappointed someone else is here, but secrets are never kept, and others I suppose might have the same bent, as me, so, I park in my choice of spots, walk into the familiar lobby (as I have stayed here many times over the years), and an older woman checking in is wondering aloud with the hotel employee, “am I the only one here?”, and I answer, “no there is also me”, which seemed to startle her a bit, even if it was not my intent, so I check in, with the gentleman who is more like a kid, I never run into the same person twice, at the desk, in all these years, he’s nice enough, certainly up on his speech about hotel policies, I interject, trying not to be condescending, probably failing, that I am well aware of all these things as I stay here every year going back at least a decade or more, how pompous, but I think he took it fine, with a nervous genuine smile, I made a joke about the parking situation, honestly this is the most empty I have ever seen this place, that suits me just fine, but I am sure the desk worker still has to adhere to his due diligence, and well, good for him, I get my key card, fifth floor, ocean view of course, I imagine I am no where near the two others who are checked in, and I must admit I hope that to be true, I am here to detach, get away, isolate, decompress and all that, a selfish moment, a selfish sentiment, yes, I agree, but sometimes such things are needed, and this is one of those times, and that is why I came.


Sometimes the familiar is a lull and you lose yourself, you forget to check the details, this is an old hotel, back to the 1800s in fact, you can tell in the hallways, drafty and cold, as is the case tonight, the ceilings are also shorter than you might imagine, hard to tell how many souls have walked these halls, I stop off the elevator to check out the lounge (there is one on each floor), old victorian decor, paint over paint over paint from the years and wear, various books seem random, a complete volume of Funk and Wagnall’s encyclopedia, it seems this little corner survives like a museum outside the reach of the internet, at least for now, the faded yellowing pages are somehow soothing, even if I am not going to bother reading, books can be experiences in many ways, even on display, such as this, left like little presents for those who wish to unwrap them, but for now, I would rather get to my room, unpack all this junk I have wrought upon my back, all my gizmos and electronics, this laptop on which I type, all the work to break them down and build them back up seems absurd for just a short week, but a creature of habit needs to eat, so here I am and doing all these so I might have a level of comfort that I brought with me to this place.

end part 1

a simple poem, a simple thought…

a simple poem, a simple thought…

bricks brickwork close up cubes
Photo by Lucas Pezeta on

am I the brick in line so perfectly laid
or the tuft of grass
that has found a way
in that space
in between
and which on now would I rather be?

notes… I was driving to my local supermarket, and the median before the main road was so manicured just a few years ago, it still is nice, but I noticed the bricks all in line, and these lines just came to me, so I wrote them, as I am known to do, in one of my scribble journals that I always keep close by, I suggest you do the same, you never know when the muse or inspiration will tap you on the shoulder, so, be prepared as much as you can, without ruining the moment, let it happen…

music?  ok, here is something from a band that gets no due, I tend to specialize in such things…. punk post rock anthem… unique sound, great vocals, garage honed sound…

 >>> Warrior Soul – We Cry Out

hey ! all thoughts, comments, critiques and such… are all appreciated, let me hear from you peeps!  Honestly this blog is for me, no guts and glory or fame, I do pretty OK in the real so this is just me throwin my art out there, if one person is helped or likes it… I’m good.  I am on vacay next week so no idea what might happen here… probably a bunch of beach shots of south jersey and places no one goes to  (but should)… we’ll see, Cape May baby…. Cape May!

Scrimshawshank Redemption…

Scrimshawshank Redemption…


if teeth could tell tales
instead of having them pass by
from the mouths of babes
spawned in the maws of whales
food for thought, a pictograph
etched enamel, weathered hands
captured memory of the sea
a voyage through the seven and creatures be
words wrapped wisdom around a molar born
or an incisor’s whit captured nautical dawns

“This is the tooth of a sperm whale that was caught near the Galapagos islands by the crew of the ship Adam [of London], and made 100 barrels of oil in the year 1817.” (an early scrimshaw inscription)

“lively sketches of whales and whaling-scenes, graven by the fishermen themselves on Sperm Whale-teeth, or ladies’ busks wrought out of the Right Whale-bone, and other skrimshander articles” – Moby Dick by Melville

Scrimshaw collection @ the Museum of New Zealand – Te Papa Tongarewa

Music? gotta go nautical with one of my all time faves…

>>> Voivod – The Prow

A “prow” is the portion of a ship’s bow (ahem, front of ship) that is above the water, in old times adorned with various carvings, creatures and maidens…

notes: Scrimshaw ? yeah, I know, what the? sometimes, ok, often things just pop in my mind, “it just popped in there” – ray

selfish shellfish selfless selfies…

selfish shellfish selfless selfies…

ancient armor black and white chivalry
Photo by Pixabay on

the twin lives of selfishness and selflessness
truly a world divided, a yin and yang, chang and eng, the tried, true and classic black and white cookie, still the two could not be more distinct but should they be? or more symbiotic than you might think, poor ole selfishness seems languished in reputation while selflessness is bathed glowingly in the perpetual limelight of hero worship, however, as with a book and it’s cover it pays to look under the surface, the subterranean is always harder to explore, you need the guiding light of the mind and a dash of some adventurous spirit (and perhaps a good pair of boots and sturdy rope), so let me make a case in the defense of selfishness, at some point you must have a drop of this, or a dollop of it added to your bloodstream, think of this infusion as a valid component of the prescription for self preservation, you are being carried away by raging waters, you must find a tree limb or other outcrop to hold onto, and from there, perhaps, you can furnish the rescue of others, but blind loyalty to selflessness may lead to needless death, for yourself, and those you might mean to save, all an equation, but one that must be mastered by the mind as instinct in a framework in which to act when called upon or needed, I have unfortunately read many an account where someone has jumped into a certain situation only to perish themselves, so, at least in this instance selfish was a bridge to selfless, complete and utter selflessness would have lead to further tragedy and served no one well, brief #2, a selfishness on the stand, if you do not take the time to keep your house in order how can you honor others? cross examine that for a spell, for the young knight who charges off into the battle in full shining armor, with gleaming honor, perfect edge to a shining blinding sword, and all the best intent ringing in his spurs, or consider the aged knight, war weary, battled in spirit, no less noble, perhaps a bit more selfish in the past as it has gotten him this far, and the poor young night now has the distinct experience with his head upon a spike, glorious helmet quite upright, chivalry may die quickly upon the shields of the young, and then perhaps there is the knight that only knows the love of gold, for he will truly die fat, happy, and quite alone, because in the realm of coin there are no citizens, only denizens of no self, a desert land of the self less, there seems to be some merit resident in selfishness to consider, when used as a tool to build and not a house to hold.

music to ponder the universe to: (ambient space goodness)

Carbon Based Lifeforms – ‘And Contact’ (from the album The Path)