Synopsis of a Balmy Life
Synopsis of a balmy life:
I was born in a sleepy southern town called Natchez, Mississippi. I spent most of my youth reading science fiction and in an altered state of consciousness. Fresh out of high school I went to Loyola University in New Orleans. There I took a class in Zen meditation. My parents didn’t feel that Zen meditation was a productive use of their exorbitant tuition. So at the age of 18 I took a train to Denver, Co. While there I worked at an insurance company as a mail sorter. I also hiked the mountains with poets, artists, and engineers. While there I completely lost touch with reality. Later, I went to a cognitive reformatory to convert me back to the sacred dogma of consensual reality.
Since then I have back slid into non-ordinary reality. I spent most of the nineties collecting college degrees. I never used them in any career-oriented capacity. However, the diplomas make good conversation pieces. Or they would if they weren’t gathering dust in my closet. I also did a five year gig as a substitute teacher. I currently rest on my laurels as a hobo poet and raconteur to a select audience of very gracious and forbearing people. C’est la vie.
I was born in a sleepy southern town called Natchez, Mississippi. I spent most of my youth reading science fiction and in an altered state of consciousness. Fresh out of high school I went to Loyola University in New Orleans. There I took a class in Zen meditation. My parents didn’t feel that Zen meditation was a productive use of their exorbitant tuition. So at the age of 18 I took a train to Denver, Co. While there I worked at an insurance company as a mail sorter. I also hiked the mountains with poets, artists, and engineers. While there I completely lost touch with reality. Later, I went to a cognitive reformatory to convert me back to the sacred dogma of consensual reality.
Since then I have back slid into non-ordinary reality. I spent most of the nineties collecting college degrees. I never used them in any career-oriented capacity. However, the diplomas make good conversation pieces. Or they would if they weren’t gathering dust in my closet. I also did a five year gig as a substitute teacher. I currently rest on my laurels as a hobo poet and raconteur to a select audience of very gracious and forbearing people. C’est la vie.
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Comments
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Congratulations on the degrees John. Not wasted as they've no doubt helped develop your intellect and understanding. Don't want to sound patronising, but couldn't forbear from saying this because you sound a little dismissive of their value - apart from being conversation pieces. You have conveyed the image of balminess very well though.
tonyPosted 01-30-2010 at 03:44 PM by tony schofield 
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Tony, thanks you for your encouragement. In past times I mused about taking my diplomas, cutting them up, and making a collage with them. It would be called, "Torn Shards of the American Dream." Yet these are just idle musings of an addled mind. I'm glad I conveyed the balminess. I often wonder if, had I not chosen the higher education route, I might have become a carpenter, brick layer, or house painter. Yet I'm content to be a hobo poet.
JohnPosted 01-31-2010 at 06:38 AM by goldenmyst
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