Blogging Sam

TRAINS

By Sam
on Nov 03, 2005
in Heron Flight

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

I live right next to the train tracks. I love to hear the trains rumble by. Freight trains. The house shakes. I can feel the vibrations against the wall. When they barrel through, I wish they would go on for hours. It’s like the pouring rain. There are days when I wish the rain would pour and pour and pour and pour and… I wish the trains were eternal.

Sometimes I imagine what would happen if they jumped the tracks. It would be instantaneous. Think of all that tonnage crashing through the timbers of this house. (Did you know that tonnage had two “n’s”??) The shattering glass. The powdered cement and drywall.

And I, smeared into the earth as a rose petal beneath the thumb of a child. A tiny mite, arched in red across the concrete, without notice.

I tell you, I love the trains.

ONLY 49,925 TO GO

By Sam
on Nov 01, 2005
in Heron Flight

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

Words that is!

I signed up to participate in National Novel Writing Month. What a sick crazy idea!

I have no idea where this story will take me. Right now there is one very primitive character in my mind. Not prehistoric, just primitive because all I know about him right now is that he’s in his twenties and just waking up on the floor of a dirty old Brooklyn apartment building.

Since you wondered… yes, there is a bit of an autobiographical element to waking up in such a setting. But I was in my thirties…

More info about NaNoWriMo can be found by clicking on this icon:

SISTER SLAMMY

By Sam
on Oct 30, 2005
in Heron Flight, Music, Photos, Religion

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

So… My band (which still does not have a name) played for a big Halloween party on Friday night. There were 80 people there! There were several very interesting and funny costumes. One man was a giant whoopee cushion. One couple was Captain America and Super Woman. They looked fantastic! Several girls were police officers, arresting the attention of all the guys with their tiny skirts and non-stop dancing.

As for the band, our bass player, Dan, was Elvis. Our guitarist, Landon, was a priest. And I, the sick drummer, was a nun. As we had no official name, we called ourselves “The Church of Elvis” for the evening. This was our first gig together. We pretty well “wow-ed” the crowd. The three of us could tell that we have something good going here. Our next show is on November 11. We need a real name by then!

I wish I had pictures of everyone else at the party. For now, I only have photos of myself. Imagine, I walked into Dunkin Donuts for a coffee before going to the party. A little 10-year-old girl didn’t know how to react, except for laughing when I said, “Bless you, my child,” as she held the door for me. And the kid at the Burger King drive-up actually left the window to bring someone else to see my custome. So, here I am, make-up, nail polish, etc. The fake lashes only lasted a few songs into our show before I ripped them off. Half way through the party the whole costume came off. I finished the night wearing Mr. Bubble boxers and a t-shirt. I’m sure the people prayed for mercy at the sight of that!

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