From the mind of a mild mannered maniac

Archive for July, 2013

Blueberry Row

Sorry to everyone here at wordpress. I am working at a blueberry farm from early in the A.Ms to late evenings. I don’t have a lot of time for posting or reading/responding to your brilliant posts at the present time. 😦 I should have a break in the action in three or four days time while I wait for fresh crops to ripen. I hope.}

i was going to tell you all about
the exciting life of a Blueberry Picker, but instead I wrote a song about it. I hope my music video here gives you a chuckle or too, or at least gets you tapping your feet.



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She glanced in my direction
Stunned, the silence fell
I recognized the beauty in her eyes
I wanted to approach
but I, so rooted to the spot,
Couldn’t creep inside my cool disguise.

I watched in muted shock,
she, turning, looked away
blending In with the hectic urban stream
For a fraction of a notion though
I was in her thoughts
Her lovely face, now archived
For a dream.


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A broken heart is all thats left
A  cracked and empty shell
You cheated, you lied, betrayed me,
And banished me to this hell!

Why, oh why did you hurt me so
Can’t you see what your deed has done
I only wanted to love you
You were always the only one

I couldn’t beg you not to leave
Would it make you want to stay?
Callous woman, killer of dreams
You were sure to get your way

I hate myself for loving you still
After all you’ve put me through
But shattered dreams hold little hope
Just a deeper shade of rue.


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Dance into the light
Let the music sooth your soul
And the rhythm of your heart
combine with mine

Dance with me tonight
With your gentle, grace and ease
Sheer elegance
A masterful design

Dance on silver beams
And as I lead us step by step
This ballroom soon transcends
Both time and space

Dance my darling dance
All eyes upon you
They have seldom seen
Such beauty, poise and grace.


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Question :
“When did you realize you were an adult?”

Should I go with the pat answer here?
You know the one.
Adulthood arrived on the day I reached physical maturity etc…Does anyone really buy that malarky? Good I didn’t think so.
Teen boys are adults in much the same way that youth is often wasted on the young.

In typical male fashion, I dreamed about being a fully fledged  wage earner, of buying my first car, of getting my own place. I was a freckly teenager, and owning stuff seemed to be what adult life was souly about.

The powerful allure of childhood playthings, and goofing off was still foremost in my mind. Just like Peter Pan, I thought I would never have to truly grow up.

I was very interested in meeting girls and going steady, but the very thought of settling down and plotting a life course for myself? Well that idea was just so abstract and out of reach.

After dealing with the nine-to-five workforce drudgery for a while, it suddenly dawned on me that this grown up bit was not a whole lot of fun. Instead, I decided to expand my horizons, and find a way to increase my toy buying potential. But still, no adult-like intentions for this kid.

I suppose I was midway through my twenties when the word responsibility finally came home to roost. It suddenly occured to me that kids and teenagers were calling me Sir or Mr. Lewis. Mr. Lewis was my Dad’s and My Grandpas name that wasn’t me yet, was it?!


So the years have heaped up on top of each other, one by blessed one. I was twenty, then thirty then forty.

Now, as a nifty-fifty year old, you would think I could gaze back through that looking glass of time, and in, best houdini style, pinpoint the exact moment when adulthood actually arrived.

When the tweens, the teens, and the carefree, wild-oat twenties and thirty’s had made way for maturity and grown-up reasoning.
I guess it had to have happened at some point, right? Maybe, but for the life of me I can’t say when.

At times I still feel very much like that six-year old raggamuffin who’s whole aim in life was to bury as many Hot Wheels cars in the sandpit as was humanly possible.

Could the fact that I don’t have a definitive answer to this question, mean that adulthood hasn’t caught up to me yet ????


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Comfort Zones

“Are you as comfortable in front of a camera as behind one? Being written about, as well as writing?”

tables turned

That is a definite, no! I am so far out of my comfort zone that it is preposterous. Firstly a camera pointed in my direction, must do so at it’s own peril. To put it bluntly, I don’t have a good side! 😉

As far as being written about…

See, I have been writing for such a long time now, that I have erected this protective cocoon around me. As long as I am ensconced safely within my writer’s bubble, or barrier, I am in my happy place, impervious to all outside influences.

As silent observer of events, I can wander uninhibited by social obligation. I can observe and report, and as much as is possible, remain neutrally buoyant.

The moment the tables are turned, when interraction is required, and the scrutiny is squarely on me, I flounder.

Oh sure, I can tread water, and put on my game face in short spurts; heck I’ve even been known to turn on the old charm a time or two. I’ve always got a few cute quips and rejoinders in my arsenal, but the moment I reveal the real me, the facade crumbles.
I become that shy, retiring, socially inept, awkward little boy of my youth.

I remember being interviewed about a piece I wrote in my high school newspaper. The article was a rather scathing and brutal essay about fiscal mis-management in the student counsel. In my defence, it was a very thoroughly researched treatise, and fact checked within an inch of its life. I had truth, justice, and propriety on my side, and I was proud of myself.

A fellow student reporter decided to write a follow up piece. I was happy to discuss my investigative techniques and the essentials of the case, but then she turned the tables on me and started asking personal questions! Where did you grow up? What are your personal and professional aspirations? How has family life molded you into the person you are? What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I know what you are probably thinking. These are not difficult questions! I wholeheartedly agree with you, but I was really put on the spot!

When I go for job interviews, a process I abhor, rigorously but tolerate out of necessity.  I am at least slightly prepared for the onslaught. I have some intelligent responses dialled in. Some go-to rhetoric as it were, and I can always duck behind my humor blind if all else fails.

In this case though, I was struck dumb. Cold shivers undulated and rippled down my cowardly spine. My knees turned to jelly, perspiration sprang from every pore, and worst of all, my cheeks glowed a shade brighter than any steamed lobster I have ever known.
I stammered incoherently for a while, then clumsily excused myself. Not my finest hour!

Later that evening, in the sanctuary of my bedroom, I sat and wrote a brief bio. covering the salient points.  I was able, there, to quietly ponder each question, and respond to each, fairly eloquently.

The next day I slid the answer sheet across her desk and mumbled some lame excuse about feeling ill. I hated myself for lieing, but, then again, was it that far from the truth, really?

That same day, our basketball team won the finals, and her article never saw the light of day.

To the wonderful people that have taken time out of their busy day to read this post, I extend to you my sincerest thanks.

I also beg of you one teensy little favor. If ever the unlikely occasion arises, whereby you must interview me in person, please give me fair warning. Better still Email me the questions and I’ll answer you properly. 🙂

Keep Smiling,




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Daily Prompt: Your Life, the Book

Daily Prompt: Your Life, the Book

From a famous writer or celebrity, to a blogger or someone close to you — who would you like to be your biographer?


The Story of Cliff

Who indeed?
I am not too keen on the subject matter, but admire the writing style of Stephen King. I have a creepy suspicion though, that I would end up as the protagonist or victim of a horror fiction.

Mary Higgins Clark is another one of my favourites, who’s writings are as thought inducing as they are scintilating. Undoubtedly though; she would research me thoroughly, and pencil me in as the killer in her next whodunnit.
yikes!!! Sorry if I have ruined Mary’s next book for anyone 😉

But seriously…
The person who I would most like to enlist as my biographer, is an incredible woman I met only recently, right here at
She is a lovely, insightful person, and an amazing writer. Most of you will know her simply as Terry

Please do yourself the favor, if you haven’t already of visiting/following Terry’s inspirational blog. Stop and say hello.
You will thank me for it!

Terry and I have only known each other for a very short period of time, but she gets me in ways most others never have, and, likely, never will.

We have shared a few words discussing life experiences and each others posts, and yet, to me, anyway, it feels oddly as if we have been friends forever.

I think if it ever came to it, my new, not so, old, friend would be accurate, objective and yet at the same time understanding of, and sympathetic toward her subject matter. I think we have traveled down some eerily similar pathways.

I ask you, who is there more qualified than that, to write the definitive biography?

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