Blogging Kansas: Musings From The Land of Oz

The first book from International Award Winning Artist J. A. George AKA; The GYPSY. BLOGGING KANSAS is a collection of original essays written by The GYPSY and derived from his numerous and most popular Blogs with one central theme; Kansas. Loaded with original art and photographs by The GYPSY that inspired a majority of his writings you will find this book of opinions, short stories and poetry hard to put down. A very revealing look into the heart and mind of a Tattoo Artist, Biker, Adventurer, Entrepreneur and a True Renaissance Man. Earnest, poignant and oft times humorous you will find plenty of laughter, tears and thought-provoking food for the soul. I watched the tornado cross the Interstate less than a half mile from where I sat under an overpass. It was early May of 1982 and this was just another moment in a trip, by the time it was completed, that included, a trip on Braniff airlines last flight during a thunderstorm, hot sex in a wet tent, good times with old friends, a flood, a night spent in a bathroom of a turnpike rest area and running out of gas less than 20 miles from home. We won't even mention the loss of my headlight, the loss of oil due to an over-enthusiastic service station attendant and dining on gnats washed down with a tasty glass of Texas ground water. No, we won't mention those things because they are another story entirely and will reveal themselves as a chapter in my upcoming book. The story that I am going to relate here today deals with the tornado, (previously mentioned), lost keys, a fried generator and a long overdo debt repaid. I held a single red rose in my hand to greet her with. As she approached her smile widened and she grabbed the sides of her long leather coat. With a mischievous tilt of her head she pulled her coat open like a flasher in the park. Except instead of bare flesh she revealed a black t-shirt with bold white letters that proclaimed, "REMEMBER MY NAME YOU'LL BE SCREAMING IT LATER." The shirt proved to be prophetic. The wind rustled the plastic on the windows at 433 East High popping the artificial storm windows in and out like the breathing of some transparent rectangular monster trapped within the window frame. This was made even more unsettling by the fact that the plastic adorned the windows on the inside of the house and not the outside.Jimmy and Patty sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around their bodies to insulate them from the cold. The floor heater cracked and groaned but did little good to chase off the cold in the drafty un-insulated little house on Topeka's east side. Jimmy and Patty watched the old GE black and white TV reflect back images of Bing Crosby as he, Rosemary Clooney, Vera Ellen and Danny Kaye sang about a White Christmas. Jimmy looked over at the little tree in the corner, the red, green and gold bubble lights sending their tiny endless stream of bubbles up the tubes to go nowhere and disappear in the glass tip of the cylinder. He then looked back at the black and white image of the tree behind the four singers and though their tree was gray within the flickering image Jimmy knew it was a grander tree than he would ever have.