NOVEMBER SUCKED (BUT WE'RE BACK)

   Hey now, hope I didn't keep you coming back for emptiness like I've been experiencing. It's now December, Yea!!!!! Maybe I'll have a better time in the cosmic flow of things. Lot's of static interferes with my focus which has been lead astray. I'll try to be a better provider for your entertainment and will also put up a couple of new episodes for my comic (Cannabis eating) CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE.
    SUN-MARKO my head minion and master calabranizer is also healing from the cosmic storm that interfered with his vessel. This anomaly shut down the entire staff at wizzzmo.com.
     BUT WE'RE BACK!
     So drive like a bat and purr like a cat. The end is near, the end of fear, look toward tomorrow, cast out the sorrow, beg, steal or borrow, it all starts here.

     Welcome home my friends       Wizzzmo

PUNCTUATING CIRCUMSTANCES

       If you were acommadating, would you date a question mark? Maybe you might find a semicolon attractive enough to take out. But by all means, stay away from the period for obvious reasons. Oh and by the way be punctual and make my day.,!':;

        Stay warm my friends                Wizzzmo 

RETURN TO CINDER

      Hi everybody, how's it going? I will rise up again, but first let me light up this big fat bowl and celebrate the end of marijuana prohibition. 45 years of burning the joint at both ends has made me lazy. I have been taking a break from the blogger and have come out of the fogger to rise up like a puff of smoke and dissipate into thin air. Aye, that I've done captain and like a colloidal suspension I await disbursement to all parts of the galaxy. I will return to cinder any cannabis that cometh my way, because now the far reaches of the universe are in my grasp and reaching out for them is no longer necessary. Celebrate! BURN14ME
    
       Stay stoned my friends                 Wizzzmo

BUSY WIZZZY

    Hi everybody. I've been a busy man, trying to get my art and humor ya-yas out. (Cannabis Eating) Crabs From Outer Space, my new comic, has been keeping me busy. I'll be getting back to blogging more stories, humor and poetry very soon. Keep on keeping on my fiends, for more tantalizing stories of my incredible life will be posted for your reading entertainment. I hope to keep you all happy, 'cause when your happy, the whole world is a better place to live in. For all of us. So check out Stone Doubt's, Crabs From Outer Space. They're gonna get right in your face.

     Stay creative my friends, burn one for me.     Wizzzmo

WIZZZMO SPATS OFF (HEMPSTALK 2014)

    Yes, I went Saturday to the Hempstalk Festival in downtown Portland. It left me with an angry attitude toward the City of Portland and toward Paul Stanford for even wanting to have it there anyway. The previous years it was held at Kelly Point Park on the Columbia River, a beautiful setting away from the congestion of the city. I heard that for environmental reasons amongst others, that it had to be relocated. How much time was there to find an awesome place (no suggestions) to have this event? I don't know, but to try to stick it right in their face and have it downtown' was just like trying to through a pie in the face of the bureaucracy. Unfortunately they baked their own pie and had it ready for all of us that came there with freedom ringing and birds a singing. We (the general public) were harassed at the entrances, we had lighters confiscated, we were swooped down upon if smoke arose from any one's mouth and were generally treated like criminals. Then, the event was even fenced into two different areas and walking from one area to the other required that you be searched again and again. This was not only an inconvenience for some, but was truly rude and offensive. My good friends of Salem-News.com were searched 10 or more times, even by the same people and they're the media.
     So why downtown? Portland has never had a pie throwing contest of this magnitude. It's just too bad that the faces the pies should have hit were Paul Stanford's and the asshole's who run the City Of Portland. Unfortunately, the faces they really hit were ours. Yours and mine and all the vendors. What a said choice, Tom McCall Waterfront Park. Sheesh
      The vote for legalization is on our doorstep. No matter what the outcome. PLEASE! don't have this event downtown again. We love the outskirts, we've lived on the perimeter and we like it. Let's keep the perimeter of society as our own. Let's just bake pies and eat them, instead of throwing them. I love pot pies.

       Have a voice my friends                 Wizzzmo

THE SISTER'S WILDERNESS ( LIFE'S ESSENCE )

     Once on a late August night, in the high elevations of the Sister's Wilderness, I brought my search for a place to camp, to a halt. I had noticed a dry lake with a giant old growth fallen log majestically lying at rest out in the middle of it. It extended around 200ft.long and was at least 6ft. high in diameter. The sun was setting and a long day was coming to a close. I decided to grab my Armstrong flute and give thanks with my music for an amazing day and welcome the oncoming night. This, at one time in my life, was my daily ritual and on this evening in particular, I felt spiritually as one with mother earth. This inspiration allowed me to find my way to a comfortable sitting position in the middle of this huge log. I then got my flute out of it's case and proceeded to play a series of soft ere notes. The smell of the dry heated pine trees permeated the air with their essence, which then found it's way through my nasal passage and landed softly in my brain. The tingling of my senses, my life aglow with all of it's natural splendor. The soft silence was near deafening and with my eyes closed, I was gently floating in a lofty, heavenly state. The essence of life itself, a gift unshared. The sound of the vibrations created by my life's breath was gently piercing the silence of this densely forested wilderness, of which I was now a part of. A symphony of sound and silence in perfect harmony. I played on for around ten minutes, when suddenly, I realized I had been joined by some of the local bats. It was their time of the evening to come out and feed on tiny insects that would make themselves easy targets at this dusk fallen hour. I was never so at ease under such extreme conditions. With around twenty or more bats fluttering around my head, mesmerized and drawn by my flute playing, I would still manage to play on for at least another ten minutes, before I faded my notes into silence. The bats then slowly dissipated into the air from which they appeared and back to their evening hunt. I never once felt in jeopardy, or for that matter, ever in any danger whatsoever during this wonderful experience. This was a once in a lifetime moment and I will cherish it till the day of reckoning. To be with nature as one, fearless and undaunting.

       It's your life my friend, enjoy!         Wizzzmo

LALLYGAGGING

       Let's stop lallygagging and gag someone else for a change. Gaglione but not Tony. Italiano, mozzarella, come on over and be a good fella. One in the gut, the tarantella. A dream of you, my Cinderella. Rain on the tracks and no umbrella. Time, it flies, but still no Stella. Last stop, Woodlawn! Dark and lurking, head strong. Catch a cab, so long. Nothings working, coffee's perking. Gag, eh,.... it's sorta working. Don't dilly dally, Lally. Lady gaga-me with a tune.
        Oh yea........ Just remember. Humpty Dumpty might have had a bad summer. But he's gonna have a great fall.  Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

         Face life within my friends        Wizzzmo

SPEWING HUMOR

       The other night I tried on line bowling. The site was called e-bowl-a.com. I kept trying to get it to work, but my computer caught a virus.
        Obama's mama's pajamas are in a dimension of contention and only zest can manifest a restful night's sleep. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
         The Putrid Sound,  The Straights of San Juan De Puke-a. Puke on a gooey duck and twisp like a bee. The  CBD- bees. The heebie jeebies. Shake rattle and roll. Then take two of these and call me in the morning. Walk me out in the morning dew. Or don't. Be that way. 
         Are you pissed at you X? Go to fed-upX.com and spill your heart out. People that really give a shit we be listening 24 hours a day. Get it off your chest and vent. Just do it! Now! NOW! YES NOW!!!!!!!!! YOUR PISSING ME OFF!
         The spewing spouting whales are legendary
         The giant squid will ink us
         The slimy eels will link us
         The legendary Loch Ness Monster
         The Abomitable Snow Man    
         The Triangle will sink us
         The Sphinx
         The Lynx
         This stinx
            40 winks  Good Night

       Sweet dreams my friends       Wizzzmo

BREWSTER STORIES 13 (THE COMET PARTY)

      Back in '73, the sighting and prediction of Comet Kohoutek and the promise of it's fantastic nighttime visual display, stirred up many an imagination. Mine was one of them. Me and my sidekick and best friend, Bob Appleholm were preparing to do something crazy for it's arrival. We planned to go brave the elements of winter and climb up Mt. Everett, the highest in the Berkshires, so as to observe the fantastic, predicted visual display. It was the middle of winter, but youthful spirits and nature lovers like my friend Bob and I, would not be swayed or thwarted from our quest to camp out and view this once in a lifetime event. That's at least until we found out that the mountain was covered in 6 inches of solid ice and was impossible to climb or even get close to the lean-tow where we were going to set up camp. We were highly disappointed with this outcome, so I decided to have a Comet Party at my family's house in Brewster.
       I invited all my friends from Seton College in the city and a few more friends from Brewster. The gang from Seton showed up early and we started partying in the early evening. This girl Vickie, brought some Peppermint Schnapps, which I never had indulged in, but nonetheless I joined her in finishing the whole bottle. It was still early and I was already really tanked. The news of the grand party apparently was getting around and more people were arriving from town. The upstairs part of the house was normally rented, but we were in between tenants, so the whole house was empty. The phone upstairs was not connected to it's old number, but worked nonetheless. Long distance was free and people were taking turns making calls to anywhere they wanted to. A free phone! Yahoo! The party was yet getting bigger and I was getting more and more screwed up and wasted on that sweet Schnapps. I asked my friend Bob to take care of things for me as I went to lay down for a while. I went to the back bedroom and leaned into a gentle fall. The room was spinning and I couldn't focus on anything, so I closed my eyes. That's all I remember, as the party went raging on.
        The rest of what happened that night was historical. Apparently everyone in town got the grapevine news and showed up, invited or not. I heard that there must have been well over a hundred party animals at my house when the cops arrived. My friend Bob apparently handled everything with true grit and the party disbursed without anyone getting arrested. They must have scattered like cockroaches when the fuzz arrived. It was a miracle that I, or anyone else didn't get in any trouble, being there were under aged drinkers and lots of weed and illegal drugs being consumed that evening. I slept through the biggest party I ever threw and woke up to a giant headache and a huge mess, which was in the process of being cleaned up by my good friends that next morning.                          I can only say that the comet's arrival wound up being a dud, but the historical party that manifested from this celestial event, was one for the records and will be remembered by many. I not being one of them.

         Stay thirsty my friends                 Wizzzmo

PURE FACT FROM WIZZZMO

     Heat rises high, while cold just gets down.
     Almost everybody wishes they were Italian, except the Sicilians.
     The dark side of the moon isn't always dark.
     One is the loneliest number you will ever do.
     It once was drinking and gambling. Now it's beverages and gaming.
     It once was your fault. Now it's my bad. (gimme a break)
     They once loved the Teletubbies. Now they walk the streets. TELEZOMBIES
    
   I wanna find me a girl that don't have a phone.
     One that laughs at my jokes and loves to get stoned.
    And when we make love, we'll be in the zone,
      'cause I got me a girl that don't have a phone.

   I wanna find me a girl that don't have a phone.
      One that's real, real, rich and lives all alone.
     And when we hear bells, it won't be a ring-tone,
       'cause I got me a girl that don't have a phone.
         Yea! I got me a girl that don't have a phone.

     Oh yea! One more fact. Ding Dongs kicked ass on Twinkies.

    Stay informed my friends        Wizzzmo

( CANNABIS EATING ) CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE

      A new comic strip by WIZZZMO is coming in September. CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE, is an artful satire filled with humor pertaining to our modern day issues in the great northwest and throughout the world. Crabby Hoffman, Crab Calloway, Mini The Smoocher, Buster Crab and Lenny Crabitz, are the stars amongst an array of others. Transdimensional teleportation and other theoretical phenomena are also a key in this satire.
      The legalization of marijuana in Oregon will be up for vote this November. These crabs are all for it. They have been recently decimating our cannabis crops for survival and the more we grow, the more nourishment they have for fuel, food and attitude. On their planet hemp is used for everything, but does not provide the euphoria they experience while decimating our crops. That's why they are here. To get high! But don't eat their legs or.............Hey wait! I think I'm giving too much information away.
       Like my head minion SUN-MARKO would say, (ANYWAY), keep checking in for CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE. They're gonna get right in your face.

       Don't forget to vote, come November, my friends         Wizzzmo

THE BALLAD OF FRANK AND PEDRO

       Well,he road into town about a quarter to nine,
   he had dust on his clothes and hate in his mind
       His guns were hot and his brain was fried.
    He'd kill that man if he found him inside.
       The man that left him to die.

       The horse he was riding, was one he had found,
    after walking 20 miles in the hot desert ground
        The sun had dried up his open wound.
    The sky was now lit by the moon,
         as he walked towards the saloon

        Well, the doors swung open and he walked on in
     he had the eyes of a devil and a scar on his chin.
         Everyone knew there was death in the air,
      as Pedro rose up from his chair,
          his eyes were filled with fear.

        Well, he shook and he trembled and he started to run,
     but in a split seconds time Frank had emptied his gun.
         All that remained on the barroom floor,
     was one dead rat, not to steal no more,
          as Frank walked out the door.

        The streets were a filled with wondering minds,
      would they see justice or another crime.
          The light shinned down on Frank's face of stone,
        They knew that he'd be going home,
           back where he belonged.

       So on the next day a wagon rode out of town
     to the hill where Pedro would be laid in the ground.
          He wanted all to here, so the Preacher had yelled!
       "Steal not your fortune in another man's wealth,
           It might be bad for your health."

        Stay thirsty my friends          Wizzzmo

BREWSTER STORIES (12) THE GRAVEYARD

      A couple score and two or three years ago, on a night something like this one. On a warm night, the night of the August full moon, just seemed like the perfect time for me and four of my cohorts to take some LSD and go do some nighttime nature tripping. One of the group claimed he knew where an old pioneer graveyard was, but you had to go across a long pasture and over one of the many pioneer erected walls that are strewn all across upstate N.Y., then into bushes taller then us to find this overgrown cemetery and it's gravestones. This sounded awesome, so we all dropped a tab of some barrel acid and got into my car to find these very old, hidden burial grounds.
      We drove towards Carmel, just about 10 miles out of Brewster. Then down some old back roads and found a place to park on the side of the road. The sky was brightly lit by the full moon and flashlights were not needed to see. The meadow was a pale grayish silver and we all started briskly walking, then running towards the stone wall in the distance. After that 1,000ft dash, we came upon a wall of placed stones. This stacked stone wall was long and surrounded the pasture we had just ran through. Now it was time to hop over the wall and start searching for whatever we could find. The LSD in our systems was flowing fast as we maneuvered over the wall one by one. The thick bushes, we were now in, made it hard to see anybody else, but we could hear each other and that was good enough, until one of the guys shouted out! " I found a grave." We all met up where Chris, who had yelled from the area of his find and were now finding a few more headstones amidst the many tall bushes. One of the dates read, that the women had died in the early 1700's and that she had been very old at the time of her passing. This made her born in the early 1600's. This was all so fascinating to me. These were some old forgotten graves that we were walking amongst, tripping our brains out on that night of the August full moon. Then.......,and this was really fucked up, this little asshole pushes over one of the gravestones! Holy shit! Everybody was freaking out over what this asshole had just done. Sacrilege! Then...there came a shrilling scream in the distance. A girls scream! We were all freaked out and what Chris had just done, but worse yet, the scream of a girl in the not so far distance, was even more frightening. We didn't know which way was up, as we went to investigate the origin of the scream. We came upon a house that was located down a steep slope and could see a screen door, from where a light was shinning and nothing much more. That's when the door abruptly opened and a man with a shotgun stood in the opening. He shouted, " Who's up there?" We were scared shitless and remained quiet and hidden, only about 100ft away, until Chris answered, " Nobody up here but us ghosts." That's when the man let his dog out. My feet were finding it hard to get traction, after all, I was running faster than Freddy Flintstone. Then, Chicky pushed me out of his way in trying to vamoose, I fell over a boulder, but was quick to get back up and scrambled back into the bushes and avoided the K-9 assault.  
        We were now back in the burial grounds again. The burial grounds that we so sacredly violated, before we heard that scream. It felt like we were trapped in a labyrinth of bushes, not knowing which way was out. When suddenly, we heard a sound. It sounded like a beeping space probe. Then, it started getting louder and louder and seemed to be coming right at us. Beep-beep..........beep....beep. We knew in our hearts we had disturbed some spirit and it was gonna get us. We were naturally confused from all the erratic steps which we had taken in our meandering about these hidden burial grounds and then the scream which lead us astray and now, we were being stalked by something unholy. Which way to go? It got more and more intense, as we got more and more confused. I then suggested that we follow the moon and eventually we will find the wall and get out of here. We hacked through the bushes with fear that the provoked spirit was gonna get us and punish us for the deeds we had done. Louder and louder and seemingly on our heels it was. The bushes started thinning and then the stone wall appeared. The sound of the beeping had gotten to the point where we were all overtaken with fear and were running for our lives. As we frantically  climbed over the wall the sound suddenly stopped. With all of us scared out of our wits, we then ran as fast as we could across that pasture and back to my car. We were all out of breath and now flying down the road at dangerous speeds, so as to get as far away from our LSD enhanced encounter with a pissed off spirit. This was very disturbing to me and my good friend Bob, who was part of this shotty posy. We were both brought up to respect the living and the dead and were both ashamed and embarrassed to be part of this disrespectful deed. 
      The gang had left and only me and Bob remained at my hideaway in Brewster. First daylight was coming on and we both were still tripping pretty heavily. We went in the backyard, which was now covered in an eerie, early morning, misty fog. We sat down in the grass, damp with dew and bubbling with life. I was in the midst of observing some microscopic worlds within and was watching life as it existed between the grass blades below me. Bob was sitting up erect with his eyes closed, feeling the millions of misty dewdrops on his cheeks. Only on LSD does one get these sensations of heightened awareness. This is the essence of life and we were experiencing some of it's fantastic rewards, right there in my backyard, on my lawn. I guess you can say we were at a high level of consciousness. That's when it came back. The disturbed spirit which we had left at the cemetery was now in my backyard. It somehow found us. The intermittent beeping sound started getting louder again. We were freaked! We decided to turn to God to help us send this spirit back to it's resting place. It was seemingly in our laps, when our thoughts of God became stronger and stronger. Within a few shattering moments of uncertainty, it was then gone. The beeping sound had disappeared from our ears. The spirit was appeased and sent back to it's grave. Bob and I were back at ease, knowing that the entity was gone from our realm of reality.
       I never to this day ever heard that sound again and hope I never do.

       Stay worthy to yourselves my friends          Wizzzmo

JOKES PUNS AND PALINDROMES ( 9 )

     So this cop pulled over my uncle Luigi just last week. Man, he had a hard time telling the cop where he lived. He kept saying upper U.S., meaning to him, upstate N.Y. The cop kept hearing up-a-your-ass. You could see a problem was brewing. Luckily a passer-bye overheard the exchange and shouted, "Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog" The cop was stunned by this palindromic phrase and immediately deferred his attention to the stranger, in which upon doing so, gave my clever uncle time enough to slap his own palindrome back at the unsuspected cop. He shouted, "Live on time, emit no evil" The cop didn't know if he was coming or going and walked off muttering some weird palindromic names, like Bob, Hannah, Eve and Otto. Wow, that was a close call.
      My uncle was so thankful to the stranger for intervening and saving his poor immigrant ass from the law. They went for donuts and coffee and joked around, saying how the cops eyes were glazed and confused. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!  

       Keep on the sunny side my friends             Wizzzmo

THE BONEHEAD PLAY OF THE WEEK

     Dear friends, I would like to tell you a funny story that happened to me just the other day. This is my bonehead, stoned-head, oops, oh shit, panic shuffle drive through the streets, search for my stash in a random dumpster, that I had no idea where it was, adventure up in Portland the other evening.
      I had just been to my friend Diane's for some of her stuffed grape leaves in which she uses the grape leaves in her own backyard, then, she puts together a yummy combo of meat, rice and veggies and serves it hot with a special yogurt, herbs and cucumber sauce. It was a stoner's delight.
      I had just scored some weed earlier at the dispensary and was going to meet a friend who wanted to help sample some product while we meandered through the side streets of the general neighborhood. I cruised slowly with him through side streets, randomly making turns at will and feeling my way sensitively, through the labyrinth of life's path. This is one of my specialties. We spoke and exchanged stories of our previous week and just as I randomly turned a corner, I saw a dumpster just to my left. What luck! I had an empty container, some cups and some fast food bags. What a great place to unload these trash items. I through the container and the cups with decent velocity and they landed in the middle or this 6ft. dumpster. I also noticed a white bag and assumed it was a McDonald's bag, in which I gave it the heave-ho. It landed just short of falling right back at me, but it stayed up and I was out of there. We continued cruising the neighborhoods for about another 15 minutes, but it was time for me to boogie on down the road, so I drove my friend back to his car and started driving home. My friend had so precariously dropped a bud and in looking for it turned up zilch. However, during the short search for the bud I sensed some absence and then it became crystal. The bag that contained an ounce of my weed, was the white one that I last through in the dumpster. Holy Shit! Panic set in quick. I called my friend and he would not answer. I called about four or five times before I knew that I was now on my own and started franticly driving to go find my stash. I had about a thirty block by ten block grid to search. It was not going to be easy. I knew that the street went east to west, so I traveled north to south, looking up and down, up and down. For a while there was nothing. Then! Up ahead! There it was in the distance, about three blocks away. I hurried, only to see the bag where I last through it, in the dumpster, about six feet high, with a backdrop of the sky. Rejoice, rejoice! My stash is back where it belongs, with me. Yahoo!                                                                                                                                        I tried to call my friend to tell him of my bonehead play of the week, but he still doesn't answer. He never answers. I hate his stupid recording and if I ever have to hear it again, it will be too soon.

        Answer your phone my friend               Wizzzmo

BLUEBERRY PANCAKES

     I ordered some blueberry pancakes the other day for breakfast. They say that blueberries are loaded with healing anti-occident's and help fight off dangerous diseases to the human body. The waitress, upon delivering the order asked if everything was alright. I looked down, only to notice that there were no blueberries in my pancakes." Hello! " I said. " There are no blueberries in my pancakes." She was apologetic and said she would take care of the mistake and bring them back to the kitchen. After all, pancakes with no blueberries are just an occident waiting to happen.   (rim shot)   Ha! Ha! Ha!! Ha Ha!

      Be insured my friends, eat your blueberries.     Wizzzmo

COMING SOON! CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE

     Coming soon, a comic strip with some of my favorite characters. Starring, Buster Crab, Crabby Hoffman, Lenny Crabitz and of course, our favorite, Crab Calloway. Stay tunned to wizzzmo's blog for your favorite episode. Catch you down the trail to the beach for, CRABS FROM OUTER SPACE. They're going to get in your face.

      Stay tunned my friends          Wizzzmo

AN OREGON COUNTRY FAIR - LOVE AFFAIR

     Since 1977, I have been going to the Oregon Country Fair. At the beginning, my fair experiences were enhanced by the core of beautiful people that attended this remarkable yearly event. I had a magic bubble that I blew around my van every time I entered the fair. I would float softly and unnoticed past everyone and answer all questions with the right words to get me to the next point and beyond, till I came to a spot under the shade of this beautiful tree in crafts parking. There, I would set up camp for me and my dog Ryan. The shade was necessary for my K-9 buddy and gave me peace of mind while exploring my new home. Fantastic times and vivacious memories of the music, the costumes and the beautiful women that I met, will always be imprinted in my brain. One of these women would sweep me off my feet and we would leave the fair together. Our predestined meeting at the barter circle would spark an Oregon Country Fair love affair from which I would never recover.
     This year I brought my 36ft. school bus, all decked out with seven beautiful air-brushed paintings of Mt. Hood, ocean scenes, a covered bridge and Timothy Lake, all of which were displayed on two sides and the back of my bus. I had just designed one of my Just Say Mo' T-shirts and was having a great time trading them at the barter circle, when Pam, who I had met earlier in the fair, wanted the T-shirt off my back. She had that look in her eyes that she might want more than my shirt, so I happily obliged her and took it off and gave it to her. We hung around each other for the next couple of hours and then, after lots of conversation, we realized that it would be great for her and I to just leave the fair and go on a spontaneous adventure together. I was an old pro at this spontaneity stuff, after all, my specialty in life was being a free spirit, always following the path ahead of me and seeking my destiny and dreams beyond the horizon that lye up ahead. Let's just go for it, being my motto. So we did.
     We spent our honeymoon in a Salem motel where we sanctified our spontaneous passionate love affair with a night of romance and release. The O.C.F. was the spring that sprung the fling that sent us hurling into the lofty clouds, where we would continue floating for days. We went through the Columbia River George and across the Bridge Of The Gods and then back to the Oregon Coast just digging on each other's company and making plans for our future. I knew it was love when upon waking up one morning, I was nibbling at her ears affectionately and noticed there was something in them. "Pam, what's that in your ears" I spoke. She started laughing and then told me she had put gum in her ears to muffle the sound of my snoring. I thought to myself, this must be love. I've been a snoring bear all my life, furry and hard to sleep in the same room with, but she said she would be able to cope with this problem, so all was fine with our continuing romance. She then told me that she worked at the food co-op in Arcata, California and needed to get back down there being she had never called work to let them know why she wasn't there. While on our way to California we passed through Lincoln City to drop off my bus and take my van, being it was easier to drive and it also got better gas mileage. Upon introducing her to my friends, I kidded around that we had been married and were on our honeymoon. A few of them went for it, after all, we were in love and on our way to Arcata to put her stuff in storage, so we may drive into the sunset hand in hand and follow our dreams of love and travel. Everything was wonderful. Little did we know, but we were soon to find out that she had been reported as a missing person and her friends and family were not knowing of her whereabouts. After a few calls, we cleared everything up with her loved ones and were now, not being sought after by the law. We had no idea of this threat of being arrested and just chalked it up to being irresponsible lovers, still floating in those lofty clouds of love. We continued our journey south to move her stuff out of her house and into storage. She had quit her job and got her check and we were now just putting the finishing touches on our future plans.
     We spent a couple of days cleaning the house and discussing a few discrepancies that we had. I was in favor of taking the van, where she preferred the bus. I had previously been on a bus trip to Santa Cruz, which was a trip from hell and had experienced lots of anguish and remorse on that initial launching of my bus. We came across our first disagreement and dilemma, but I convinced her that the van was the best choice. At least that's what I thought I had done.
     The next day we were invited to a party that her friends were throwing for her, being she was leaving. Kind of a going away party, you might say. I was not feeling very social that day and chose to hang out in the back yard near the garden. I must not have made a very good impression with her friends and I think her friends must have wondered why she was with me at all. I was not your stereotypical good looking guy and was about six years older than her. At least it seemed that way to me, because on our way back to the house she said she wanted to just sleep alone that evening. It was like taking a giant step down from the cloud I had been on for the 11 previous days. It was like I had been stabbed with a dagger. Devastation set in. My fantasy was ripped to shreds, I was in shock and not knowing what went wrong. For most of the evening I could not sleep wondering what was happening to my Oregon Country Fair, love affair. Was it just another love affair? Was it over? Now what's gonna happen? In the morning when I awoke, the feeling that encapsulated our Country Fair romance was not the same. Questions of our future romantic continuance seemed to have already been answered. We both knew it was over. Holy shit! She quit her job, moved into storage and was now homeless and without a job or a plan and there I was in Arcata not knowing what to do. What a whirlwind! At least it was still summertime. She learned that her sister was going to visit their folks and would meet her and give her a ride south to L.A. in a couple of days. I, feeling the sudden emptiness in my heart, would return to Oregon and maybe try to understand just what happened that day of the party. We had strangely, in the space of only a few hours, come down from the lofty clouds we had so lovingly inhabited, only to crash land in the harsh reality of life's uncertainty. What a ride we had been on. I didn't know what to think, only that it was over and it was time to move on down that path that lye ahead. So it was me and my trusty dog Ryan, hitting the lonely road once again, traveling on. We exchanged some numbers and I tried to get in touch with her through one of them at a later date, but was unsuccessful. I never seen her again, but was happy to have been part of an amazing love affair and romantic adventure that started at one of the most magical, mystical places on earth, The Oregon Country Fair.

      The Oregon Country Fair is still making dreams come to life.

      Live the love my friends                   Wizzzmo

UFO SIGHTING ( 2 ) LIGHT CYLINDERS

       During the third week of June, I would always have to drive across the state of Oregon to get to my destination, which was, Weiser, Idaho, for the Old Time Fiddlers contest, a yearly party gathering area for me and my friends. The hot day time temperatures would always keep me from traveling during daylight hours, so, a couple hours after sunset, I would leave my friend Bill's house in Bend and start driving into the night. I was doing a favor for this guy Pete, by taking him along with me. He was just going to the other end of the state to see his girl, where I would drop him off and then it would just be me and my co-pilot, Ryan, my first dog and traveling companion, from there on out.
       After leaving the small town of Ironside we were in a stretch of no man's land, on the night of the new moon. Man was it dark, but cooler than the daylight sun, which would have been the other alternative. I get lost in myself on these long and desolate drives and was trancing out, with my mind in a far off space, when the first mind blowing visual occurred.
       Suddenly, from about 150 feet away, appeared a colored cylinder of light, in the shape of a stage light. It was yellow and seemed to retract as quick as it appeared. I yelled to Pete! "Did you see that?" But Pete was zonked out and didn't even wake up. I shook him and in a frenzy explained what I just saw. I was hyped and he was lethargic and he conked back out. A few minutes went by and again!.... This time closer and with a reddish hue, a cylinder seemed to appear and retract, just like a tractor beam would do on Star Trek. Again, I yelled," Pete, did you see that?" He was groggy but was not gonna go back to sleep this time, I made sure of that. I was freaking out and telling him what was going on outside, when another one appeared. This one was orange and Pete was awake and now freaking out right along with me. We continued on without stopping and with eyes wide open and necks outstretched, we waited for something else to happen. The dark night brought only questions. What the heck did I just experience? Were the lights from an alien spaceship, beaming up some desert life for study? Were the lights meant for me, but they missed their target? Where were they coming from? I'll maybe never know. With great anticipation we continued on our journey, but nothing else unexplainable would happen that night. However, about thirty minutes later we would be treated with an unusual display of the Northern Lights. From far on the northern horizon, appeared a modest display, which would then pose a question in my mind. Did they, have anything to do with what I saw? The obvious answer was no, they couldn't have. What I saw was close, bright and vividly unforgettable.
         I dropped Pete off and was now ready for some kick ass music and get down partying. Weiser would again provide the party and kicking musical ass..... Well, yours truly would help with that.
        I've traveled over a million and a half land miles and this is the only time I had ever experienced this unexplainable phenomena. I've seen a lot and will be writing on more of my experiences and adventures throughout the rest of the year. I can only hope to captivate you soon, in another one of my true life stories. Till then, stay free and enjoy the adventure of life.

        Stay thirsty my friends                   Wizzzmo

A BULLETIN UPDATE! FROM THE CAVES OF JUPITER

     A neighboring undiscovered moon has been sending backwards messages to our planet for the last 48 hours. That's right Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy, 48 hours. After a sudden jolt in the space and time continuum, the relocation of Jupiter's axis has drastically been altered. The intense and violent destruction has revealed a moon never known to exist.
     After deciphering these messages we have come to the conclusion that a disturbance, due to the extreme emotional discharge from our planet, has toppled the controlling power of the lights glow from within the planets surface. A sudden danger to our universe lurks in the balance of regulating good and evil. The Dark Lord has been finding new ways to gain temporary control of our most precious emotions and turn them against us. We must gather our thoughts of peace, love and tranquility. Hatred will only feed the dark forces that enable the tools of destruction to infiltrate our world. Let your mind take you to that place of solace before it is to late.
     No folks! This ain't no superhero crap. This is real.
     The tiny moon known now as Palindromiter has released this warning. " Palindromiter's exulted ruler has changed his androgenic mind yet again. Twice his countercultural greed driven sect, has divinely overridden the rights of all, to truly and with sweet denile, question what is obviously backwards.
      So for better or for reverse, you may kiss your ass goodbye if you don't take head to this warning. Mellow out. Don't be so uptight. Wave with a smile at the guy that just cut you off. Throw an apple to a homeless sign holder. Asian and Mexican women aren't that bad of drivers, as long as your brakes are working. Right? Just pay better attention when you see one behind the wheel. May these simple examples help steer you in the right direction and to a better day in the neighborhood.

       You've been fair warned, my friends         Wizzzmo

REQUIEM FOR JIM MORRISON

     I was waiting for the sun to touch me, when you said "hello....I love you, won't you tell me your name?"
     Indian summer had come and gone, like our love.
     People are strange, but you were a wild child and I was a back door man.
     You.... The L.A. women who could light my fire and keep it burning, till the end of the night. Love me two times baby, love me twice today. Join me in my Spanish caravan, as I take you on a moonlight drive down love street.
     You make me real, but waiting for the sun to shine, is like being on board a ship of fools, who's only hope, is the cry," land ho!" There's no land. There's no light. They've been floating for a long time in their crystal ship, Fragile to the storm that would bring the end of the night to an unknown soldier. Not to touch the earth, or to see the sun, his odds of survival, five to one.
     Yes, this is the end. Though riders on the storm we weren't. I still loved her madly and when the music's over and we run for cover in the raging storm, with thunder and lightning flashing, there she will be. My eyes have seen you. I can see your face in my mind. An easy ride. My wild love, queen of the highway, on dawn's highway bleeding, amidst a crawling king snake. What a blue Sunday.
     So, awake! You angels and sailors. Curses, invocations, the world's on fire. Lament. Strange days will follow, till we brake on through to the other side. So while we're waiting for the sun, let's get our kicks before the whole shit house goes up in flames. Light a fire for Jim, for we are stoned, immaculate, just waiting for the end to come.
     This is the end.
         My only friend, the end.
  
     I used 43 titles from the Doors song-list to complete this piece. I hope you enjoyed it.

     Keep your fire lit, my friends

JOKES PUNS AND PALINDROMES ( 8 )

    I figured this girl was still pretty dumb, when I told her I was so happy to see her after all of these years, that I was ecstatic. She then backed off of a loving hug, thinking she was gonna get a shock if she touched me. Pretty dingy, I was disappointed, but when she turned to leave the room and I yelled to her " don't to leave the door ajar," she then yelled back," what do ya want me to leave it?" I was done with this joke of an old girl friend. After all, finding a dark spot on her past was somewhat enlightening. But that dark spot on her ass?......I don't know. Don't you love her as she's walking out the door?
     Daily blogs are like floating logs. Sometimes they just drift away, sometimes to distant shores, sometimes they open doors, the door's ajar, the jar it sits, do you know how many jelly beans it fits?
      So," rise to vote, sir."" Never odd or even"
      May your vote be cast!
      May all for one and one for all,
      be, for all and not, for one.
      So you mellow down easy, you've got to
       mellow down easy, you got to mellow down easy
        when you really want to blow your top
Just the other day I was wanting to get some concert tickets to see Steely Dan. My friend told me that they were all sold out, but that he would be able to get some tickets from a scalper. I was shocked to hear what pretentious prejudicial vomit spewed from his foul mouth. I immediately and firmly corrected him and said," they're not scalpers,.... they're called Native Americans.

    Stay happy my friends           Wizzzmo

MY CROSS COUNTRY HUSTLE (SANTA FE)

       I had just turned 23 years old and was still in Yonkers working for my Dad's Waterproofing Co. My spontaneous trip to Santa Fe, that I had made about a year ago, by airplane, was teasing my imagination and egging my spirit on to take another road trip out west. Work was slow and my Dad laid me off. I was now eligible to collect unemployment and a road trip beckoned at my heals. I found out, that you could just stop in any unemployment office and grab a courtesy claim form, which you would then fill out the ten places you looked for work in the past two weeks, (the nearest phone book was handy) then turn it in and you'd be done and on your way to the next town. Sweet! Getting paid while cruising the U.S.A. I was living the hippie dream. Every two weeks, I would stop in a different town, fill out the form, then drop it off and be on my merry way. Coming from New York gave me the hustler's edge and with cash coming in, I was unstoppable. My street musicianship worked rather well in the rustic Santa Fe Plaza and served as a financial mecca for me, allowing me to make a few coins and occasionally some greenbacks. This hustle, was there for me on a daily basis.
       I had been to Santa Fe before by airplane, just to surprise a lady friend and while visiting, got to know a few of her fellow students and friends over the two weeks that I had stayed with her. This would be key, in getting my own room at the College Of Santa Fe. This guy named Tito, who I partied with a year ago, was now the proctor at one of the dorm buildings, where there was a vacant room that no one occupied. This became my room. Awesome! The school was not quite in session yet and only a few early comers populated the grounds. The sunsets were visually stunning and the pinks and oranges that were cast on the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, were lingeringly mystifying and tranquilizing to my soul. This time of the day was sacred to me and my way of life. Many evenings I would play meditative flute music to enhance my day ending experience with the setting sun, while giving thanks for the fading day and the oncoming night. I slipped away to many places in my mind during these moments and was now refocusing my thoughts on the blond that had just entered my distant blurry encompassing vision. With a squint of my eyes, I noticed that about 200 feet away, was a pretty girl walking my way, slowly getting closer and closer. Like my flute wielding hero, Ian Anderson, of Jethro Tull. I too, was standing on one leg, with my other foot propped up against my knee. I was trying to hold my pose and be impressive, like guys do, as I played on. Closer and closer she came. She was coming right at me now. My magical spellbinding notes had drawn her seductively to my lust driven lair, when our eyes first met, we both knew what had to be done. We informally introduced ourselves, then hopped in my van and were off like two heat seeking missiles to the ski basin, where we would consummate our provocative meeting by doing the wild thing in the back of my van at 9,000 feet. My confidence grew even more, Now I had a girl friend, my own room,..... and oh yea!, Lisa was also a vegetarian and her cafeteria card was easy to counterfeit. So we removed her name and replaced it with mine, in which now it would be put to good use. This was getting sweeter and sweeter.
       We joined a hiking club in which we would be hiking every Sunday, in high elevations, sometimes as high as 10,000 feet. We both loved to smoke weed and would smoke even while hiking strenuously in the thin high mountain air. I was in great shape in those days. We usually hiked around 15 miles and stayed stoned all the time. She would also out smoke me all the time and my stash didn't last very long. What a toker.
        Weeks would unfold and my unemployment checks had still not arrived back at my parent's house. Playing music and hustling at the plaza wasn't cutting it and New York State Unemployment was not in any hurry to send checks to a new claim, so I needed to accelerate my hustle, or catch a break somehow along life's path. Everything seemed to be fitting together so well that it was only a matter of time before I would be back on top. This was my mind set, after all, I now had a girlfriend, my own room, free food and a good pot connection. I didn't want to push my luck at this college, so I went over to St. John's College and talked them into letting me throw a concert in their auditorium, featuring me of coarse, a well known musician from back east, touring out west for the first time. This was my story and it worked. I then made posters that I passed out and put on cars, so I may get some action. I charged $3 and about thirty students showed. Not bad for three days off the cuff. But still not enough to sustain my habits.
        Sunday found me and my squeeze hiking up Glorieta Baldy Mt. Another high elevation climb. While on the tail end of our hike we came across a large roll of uninsulated copper wire that was just kinda leaning up against a tree, with no workers around. I'm not a thief at heart, but leaving it would have been heartbreaking in my poor economic state, so we rolled it to the van and were guiltily off to cash in our bounty. The next day we found out that the 80 lb. copper wire was worth $45 at a junk yard. We cashed it in and although my heart was guilt ridden, I had just lined my pocket with some much needed cash.
        It was Monday morning and classes were back in session. I even went to a class now and then, to keep the facade of being a legitimate student going. I was with Lisa, in one of her classes, studying cave dwellings near Bandelier National Monument, when a forest fire broke out nearby. They needed all the help they could get, so I was forced into volunteering to fight these fires. They said I would get paid and off I went to move the line back. The experience was dangerous, but I was a great help in getting the fire under control. They returned me to Santa Fe and to my waiting girlfriend, Lisa. I was gone for two days and man was I tired. I just passed out and rested my tired bones for a while.
       The weekend was now upon us and the black dudes in the other dorm were having a card game. Like the sound of trumpets to my ear, I was off to gamble with the enemy. The game they were playing was called guts. I had never played this game before, but could instantly figure out that these guys were bad gamblers and easy money was waiting to be won. I was a natural at this game and after a few grueling hours, I had won everyone's money and they even owed our dorm a keg. Heck, I even loaned out some cash, feeling sorry for those nice guys that gave me all their money.
        Amazingly enough, my unemployment checks finally arrived after 11 weeks. I was getting tired of my college scam and Lisa and I both were ready to move on from our wild fling, when I told her I was going to go to Oregon. We had a great run and lots of fun but it was time to boogie. I had just found out that my Brewster bud, Diane, was living around Portland and I was pumped to catch up with her, so off I went. Eleven weeks at $95 a week, gave me a nice comfortable bankroll, so I could rent a place when I arrived at what would become my home base for years to come. I said my goodbyes to Lisa and thanked Tito for the awesome room he so kindly provided for me to use.
         Santa Fe was a great stopover for me in years to come. Fiesta, the Sangre de Cristo Mts., the magnificent art, the history, the college, that I so boldly attended. These memories along with many other momentous occasions that I was lucky enough to experience, seemed to magically unfolded like a fairytale for me, in The Land Of Enchantment. Santa Fe will leave many happy imprints in my brain, I was young and life's wonders were at my fingertips and I made sure that I grabbed my share of them and am so glad that I was able to share these fond memories with you and in turn relive one of my life's favorite adventures.

        Take life with a grain my friends         Wizzzmo

EXTRA! EXTRA! WIZZZMO'S PARADE FOOTAGE

     That's right! It's here! Just go to the VIDEO gallery and catch Wizzzmo's Grammed Floral Extravaganga Parade, from May 29th at Alberta Street's Last Thursday. That's wizzzmo.com the best, in this part of the galaxy.

       Don't miss this my fiends         wizzzmo

A COSMIC OCCURRENCE FOR THE AGES ( SYNOPSIS )

   So after our second cosmic intervention, we headed north to Santa Cruz, where I visited his family, including their new born child, which was my reason for this amazing trek that had catapulted my reality into the twilight zone. I was always a road warrior and had never married or had kids, so being with my friend Fingers and his loving family, was a nice homey feeling. You may no longer have a family, but "ain't it good to know, you've got a friend, oh ain't it good to know, you've got a friend." If I could only say his new born was named Baby James, it would be appropriate, but that was his first child's name.(Thanks To James Taylor For All His Beautiful Lyrics)
    It was time to get back to Oregon and the road beckoned my call. We said our sad goodbyes and with a few strong hugs to get me down the road, me and my dog Kid, were off on a new adventure into the unknown. What fabulous and remarkably mysterious vortexes might lye in store for me and my friend to seek out and enjoy, I could only wonder and after what I had just experienced, anything goes. Life's apparitions may appear as a puff of smoke, but when the smoke clears and your eyes decide, just what is real and what is an illusion, then that's the time that conciseness and clarity appear to be most haziest, yet reality is at it's purest. Somewhat confusing, trying to put this phenomena into words. Oh well....
    
     You may capture what was meant to be on my C.D. STORYLAND. My vision and the magic that came to be, in my greatest musical achievement, can now be yours. This C.D. is not just any C.D. If you read the two previous stories, you'd realize that the electrifying collaboration of Raymo and Fingers could light up Las Vegas, or even the dark side of the moon. We do so on 9 of the 14 tunes on my C.D. The music melts in you mouth. You may go to the MUSIC page for song samples or directly to the STORE and order your C.D. today.
      So thanks for your interest in my favorite stories and I hope that I perked your interest in my C.D.

      Keep smiling my friends                Wizzzmo

A COSMIC OCCURRENCE FOR THE AGES (FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS) PART 2

     So when we last left our heroes, an amazing occurrence beyond definition, reunited two musical forces that would forever be in touch and never lose track of each other again. I traveled allot, following various poker tournaments around the country, but now every time I would be going from Oregon to Los Angeles, I'd be stopping in Santa Cruz for a few days to play marvelous music with my virtuoso friend Fingers. We'd play downtown, by the lighthouse, at various friend's houses, anywhere they would let us, we could not get enough of our natural fit. I always looked forward to our next meeting, knowing some day that we would meld our talents together and record our musical wizardry for the world to here.
     The new millennium would find me primed and ready to finally record my long awaited first CD. I had invested a large chunk of cash, in a limited liability corporation that showed much promise. I even opened up for a Save The Music fund raiser for VH1, amongst other great gigs that were centered around the Phoenix area. Things were going great, the first three months of recording found me in a new environment. I had never realized the work and precision it took to record my first tracks, but I stuck with my vision, till I lost steam with only seven guitar and vocal tracks recorded. I needed a break and took a half a year off to regain my momentum and my vision. During this time my friend Fingers and his wife Chris, were having another child and it was time to go back to Oregon, as being in Phoenix for so long was getting to me. I decided to go to Oceanside, California, and then, after a few days, work my way up the coast to Santa Cruz, where I would visit my friends and congratulate them on their newly born son.
      I leisurely took my time and was passing through Laguna Beach, when I spotted a bead store. I had been collecting old rare trade beads and was always exploring new bead shops that I had never been to. So like a pirate seeking treasure, I pulled my ship off the road, to see what delights awaited me and my crew. I was traveling with my dog friend, Kid, who also was wanting to stop for her own reasons. I ravaged the trade bead case and found many rare and unusual beads, some being highly collectible, 400-500 year old specimens of chevrons. Chevrons, that had been formed and designed, mainly by the Dutch and Italians, hundreds of years ago. I made a fairly large purchase, so as to add these rare treasures to my booty, but it was now time to get back on the road.
      I stood outside for awhile and was noticing how the hillside reminded me of this reoccurring dream that I often had. The plush green landscape and the one story houses, all lined up on top of each other, was just like a dream that I had dreamed many times. I decided to follow my dream and see where it would lead me. I started going up the hillside, observing the beautiful overgrowth, just like my dream. The houses, the lush plant growth and the beautiful sunny day, made for a nice afternoon interlude, but it was time to get back to the highway and continue my trip north to see Fingers' and Chris's new son. I zigzagged through the labyrinth of alleys and small streets and was one block away from the 101north, when I came to a stop sign. I came to a full stop by a laundromat and was ready to take off, when to my left I heard someone say, " Ray!" I turned my head and to my phantasmagorical amazement, my focus unveiled my eternal, cosmic, musical counterpart, FINGERS! Words cannot describe the shock and awe that had just entered my realm of reality. "Fingers " I spoke out, with my voice cracking, from me trying to grasp at reality and make sense of this overwhelming moment. Then, what to my wondering eyes did appear. Wow! I searched my soul for some deeper and inner meaning. The numbers, the odds, the incredible journey, stopping at the bead store and then my dream, taking me up into the hills and down the alleys, only to arrive at that stop sign, at the same time that Fingers, who thought he had forgotten his keys, would then turn around and see me and say my name, of which I would then respond in overwhelming disbelief. Wow! I believe that if a zero was the size of a penny, the length of zero's, the odds to 1ratio, for this occurrence, would stretch to the moon.
       After the reality set in, I parked and we scurried inside the building where Fingers was playing with a group of musicians, who were entertaining seniors. This charitable organization that Fingers worked for, was called Young At Heart. This was one of his steady gigs, entertaining at old folks homes and bringing life and awakening memories in these beautiful elderly souls and  magically making people feel happy and young again, through the power of his music. I would have to say that this gallant and heart warming soul is truly one of our American heroes. Giving without measure gives in return.
       We went down to some great seafood restaurant and marveled at our intertwining labyrinthine like paths and their undefined crossings. We tried still to figure out a deeper and higher meaning for all of this, in which we were left stuttering and dumbfounded. First, the complete stranger, in a place that I had never been, plucking me out, like a particular grain of sand, from a haboob. Then, me following a reoccurring dream that I had, up into the hills, only to descend and arrive at a particular place, at a particular time, on the corner of anywhere U.S.A. and to be there simultaneously, when Fingers turned his head to see me and then call my name. The odds to one ratio of this occurrence would stretch" to infinity and beyond. "
      
        I hope you enjoyed my favorite story, keep coming back for more great stories of my extensive wanderings throughout the universe. Further tales of my adventures await you         So till next blog,   Stay thirsty my friends                              Wizzzmo

A COSMIC OCCURRENCE FOR THE AGES (DO YOU KNOW FINGERS?) PART 1

     I first started living in Oregon about 1975. I first lived in the Columbia River George, in a tiny town called Coopey Falls. Then in a couple of years, I moved to Lincoln City, which is where I first heard about the Weiser Idaho Old Time Fiddlers Contest. Being a multi- instrumentalist that I was, along with the raring to go on any road trip, at the drop of a hat, propelled me into sacrificing my normal comfort zone by traveling as a passenger, with my lady friend in her VW van. I was so used to the height of my Chevy van's doors, that I banged my head on the top of the VW door frame, way too many times. You could say I took my lumps on this trip.
     Upon arriving in Weiser, it was certain that the party was on. People were in the streets, the bars were overflowing, tons of bikes were parked along the streets and the whole town was a buzz. We immediately went to find a place to set up camp. This place was called Mortimer's Island. There were campers, converted school buses, tents and vans everywhere. We settled in and took a well needed break from the very long drive we had just taken, when I noticed that one of my close neighbors was getting his fiddle out. I immediately grabbed my guitar and we started to jam. Holy smoke and I do mean smoke, this guy was taring up the fiddle like no one I had ever heard or played with before. He was able to ad-lib and embellish notes and moves to my compositions as if we had played together all of our lives. We became musical soul mates within minutes. For the next week we partied and jammed so much, that my fingers were bleeding from the hours of torturous abuse. My right thumb was shredded from the constant friction I had put it through. When your playing and you can't stop playing, because the music is so fuckin awesome and you are willingly suffering through it, so as to complete the tune perfectly, well.....,this is masochistic surrender. The music outweighs the pain and takes precedence over anything that can possibly interrupt it. This initial meeting, was the foundation of the story I am about to tell you. My new friend's name that he went by was Fingers The Fiddler. I came from the Oregon coast and he, from Utah, only to meet for the first time at Weiser, Idaho. By chance, our first meeting.
      After partying and preforming in some incredible jams and taking my music to new heights, it was time to go back to the Oregon coast. Sadly we parted ways but left each other our addresses so we could meet again. I was even invited to his wedding, but was never able to make it to Utah, to attend. We lost track of each other and for years all I could think about, was how I had finally found that person that was a perfect match for my musical style and that now, I had no idea where he lived, or if I would ever see, or join forces playing music with him again. After the tank had been filled, would the vehicle ever start again? Time marches on.
     During the next five years, I traveled all over the west and was in Santa Cruz, California for the very first time. I cruised downtown for a while and noticed that allot of young people were carousing about the storefronts and playing music and dancing colorfully, in this college town full of hippie types. Lots of tie-dyes. This was my style of action, so I randomly grabbed a T-shirt and was off to seek out and enjoy. I came upon a group of pickers and strummers, just getting down, on their prospective instruments. I stopped and listened with open ears and was impressed with the talent of this red headed mandolin player. The song that they were playing came to a crescendo and as the music stopped, this red headed stranger looked up at me and said these incredible words, " Do you know Fingers?..... "A bright light came on in my mind. I asked him, "You mean Fingers? Fingers the fiddler? You bet I know him." My mind was racing with memories of Weiser. Could this possibly be?  His response blew my mind so wide open, that my brains were temporarily scattered all over the universe. Upon collecting my thoughts back together, he then said, that Fingers lived just down the street and was having a birthday party. Apparently, when I had randomly chose a T-shit to wear, I chose my Weiser Idaho, Old Time Fiddlers Contest T-shirt and this is what he stared at while he was playing. The art design of guitars, fiddles and mandolins, displayed on the front of the shirt, propelled him into asking me the question, did I know Fingers? Over the years, Fingers had talked largely and told stories of our musical interlude in Weiser, Idaho and Woody, the mandolin player, was one of the interested recipients, of one of these stories. So putting all of these coincidences together, is what lead him to speaking the magic words that reunited me and my long lost musical soul-mate. ( Do you know Fingers? )
      We took off immediately and arrived at the house where Fingers was having his 26th birthday party. "Happy birthday!" I spoke with my eyes wide and my face aglow. What a shock to find me at his door, a supernova of excitement was bursting on the scene. The reuniting of two wizzzing asteroids in the same galaxy, retroactively seeking to burst into space and go play our musical hearts out. We shook off the shock and were ready to rock! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! We grabbed our instruments and were off to the plaza to blow minds. We played and played and played some more in celebration of our cosmic reunification. A complete stranger, in a place that I had never been, asking me an amazing question, that I'll never forget, "( Do you know Fingers? )" This incredible moment in time, would change our lives forever. Two musical entities, colliding in space and time, only to create an amazing array of musical power, stretching out like a supernova of beautiful musical melodies, throughout the universe. This was an amazing moment in time, but there is another amazing moment that lye ahead, that would blow minds even further, into an infinitesimal place where our minds cannot fathom reality, one far beyond the grasp of our imagination. One that defies the odds.

      To be continued, my friends, stay tuned        Wizzzmo

WIZZZMO"S LAST ALERT!!! GRAND FLORAL PARADE TOMORROW

   I'm the world's 2nd worst procrastinator, I'm not fighting you for the first spot, that's yours. But if you want to help us celebrate our grammed opening of our store in cyberville, you better make plans to be at Alberta St. May 29th and that's tomorrow. It's time for last Thursday, it's here. Our stroll down the center of the street will begin around 6;30 pm. Come join in the festivities, featuring sexy voodoo goddesses, giant bubble blowing, fireballs, masks, walking sticks, drums and Wizzzmo's newly acquired serpent staff, rescued from an ancient abandoned lair in a place that time forgot. Don't miss this artful spectacle, that I have been waiting to unveil. See you tomorrow my friends and don't procrastinate, you know who you are.

     Be there or be square my friends        Wizzzmo

BREWSTER STORIES (11) TURN ON THE RED LIGHT

     While spending all my summers up in Brewster, I seemed to get into allot of harmless mischief. I don't know if it was who I was hanging out with, or who was hanging out with me, that was the influence that ruled the tides. Whoever it was don't even matter, but this time, it was my friend Chicky.
     On this particular summer day we were cruising the neighborhood around Lake View Manor, a section of the lake where we all met, played music and went swimming. The road dead ended not too far down from the clubhouse, in heavy swampland, where nobody ever went. The only people you would normally see down there, were usually the numbered few, that lived down the dead end road. It was getting dark, just toward the tail end of dusk, when we drove by what seemed to be two young lovers making out in a car. They also had Connecticut license plates. They were in strange territory and we were just the rascals to mess with there heads. I had recently been having a great time terrorizing different victims with my red cop light, that had a suction cup on the bottom of it, so as it could stick to my roof. We knew that we would be able to scare the crap out of them, if we came down the dusky road with all lights flashing, so that's what we did. We came to an abrupt stop and proceeded to approach the two innocent victims. They thought they were in trouble, as they remained frozen in there car. The front window was open and I was the first to approach the young couple. I said in a deeper than normal authoritative voice, "you know that your not allowed to be here and that your parked illegally in a no parking zone?" Me and Chicky could hardly hold back our laughter, while these two kids were taking us seriously and thinking they were in deep shit. We didn't even come close to resembling cops. In fact we were giggling so much, that to my surprise, when I figured that they had to know by now, that we were joking, I stuck out my hand, in a give me skin opened palm position, but instead of getting a slap on the palm, the guy said nervously, while shaking, "Da, do you wa want my license?" Holy smoke! This guy started fumbling around, trying to find his wallet. This was way more than we had hoped for and started laughing our asses off, totally out of control. We then went back to my car and sped off, up the road and out of sight. We couldn't stop laughing, my ribs were hurting, from laughing so hard. Two pranksters getting more than they could have imagined. What a gas being young and carefree and a little mischievous too, I guess.

    Stay young my friends        Wizzzmo

POPULAR STONES

     Of coarse we have The Rolling Stones. Who said it's hard for a rock to role? These stones just keep on rolling and have gathered no moss. Stop! No mas. Then we have sugalite also known as luvalite. I've called it the lawyer stone, because the beginning of the word sounds like sued ya. Then there is that blue stone called azurite. This is the Italian stone, because it sounds like az-aw-right. At least it's all right with me. Then, once in Tucson I went around asking for nugalite, I really got ripped when I found some too! Hey! What about that meteor stone moldavite, another stoner stone. This squinty eyed stone has squinty eyes for a reason and it's really down to earth. Down under. Then there is the dog stone, labradorite, it's bight has no bark. That's bad, so bad it's malachite, green with envy. Getting thirsty my friends, there's always sodalite, without bubbles I'm afraid, for all you seltzer addicts out there. When you only owe a little, it's Iolight. Does it pay to get Iolite? Only when you owe allot. Then for all you babies and men, believe it or not there is titanite. I'm not playing you for a sucker, there really is a stone called titalite, for all you breast feeders and tit lovers out there, this is your stone. being a sucker ain't so bad after all, you might say. Then there is stone doubt. For those people that don't think they can get stoned, but wonder if they should try to, I would suggest that they try some before they are the last people in doubt.
     I must be searching for something in this blog, but I don't know what it is, so I'm out of here. wizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..........

     Stay stoned my friends                   Wizzzmo

THE EYE PHONE

     I was just thinking deeply into a kush enhanced idea earlier. Check this out. I-phones are rectangular and do not fit the structure of the human hand comfortably, not enough for my hand. Dropping them is too common, due to the shape of what they feel is right for you, the public. Well........, I beg to differ with these giant corporations, I think the I-Phone, should be shaped like an eye. My eye, your eye, I-eye yi yi. You know. It would fit your hand more naturally than the old rectangular phone. It would make the clumsy phones we have now obsolete. It would have a perfect marketing name, that would make this phone's sales skyrocket beyond our galaxy. It would monopolize all sales on this planet. It's.,;,',;,.,;',;,.,;,',;,.,;,',;,.,;,',;,.,; THE EYE-PHONE ! Well........,whata you think? Do the eyes have it? All in favor, say aye.

     Good night my friends                       wizzzmo

A MOONBOW AT THE BARTER FAIR

   I've seen a lot of fantastic and unusual things in my life, but this nighttime display of light on water was one for the books.
   I was attending a barter fair up in N.E. Washington, above Spokane, in a beautiful and majestic setting, just right where the Columbia River enters the U.S.A. on the Canadian border. This barter fair was known as the Northport Barter Fair. I was a regular at this yearly event, which took place on the first or second weekend of October every fall and I was also in charge of the music and entertainment this year. The rains were dowsing the meadow and plateau, which was full of vendors trying to make trades and hopefully get some cash, to at least cover their expenses for gas and food. Everybody was hunkering down waiting for the torrential rain to subside. The rain had been falling for many hours and was putting a real damper on this long awaited event. It was about one o'clock in the morning and mostly everyone was crashed and snoring zzzzz's in dreamland. I was wide awake with some fairgoers, playing guitar and stoning out on some good harvest buds, when the massive wall of water, we had been dealing with for most of the day, abruptly stopped. I watched this water wall go across the open range, where everyone resided in makeshift structures, tents and teepee's. The multi-ringed barter circle was vast this year and was visually unfolding right before my eyes, as the sharply defined clearing slowly moved on. In this drop-free clearing, at the same time that I was watching it's movement, the brightest full moon that I ever saw, appeared from behind the distant mountain. The extremely, almost blinding bright moon, as it was shining on the wall of water, created a colorless rainbow in the middle of the circle. Fantastic! WOW! I had never seen anything like this visual phenomena in all my extensive travels and experiences. I'm sure glad that I was still awake to witness this once in a lifetime event, for my love of the earth and all it's wonders goes deep into the core of my bones and is rooted in my feet. All the shape of a rainbow, but colorless. Just a white, bright, projection of the moon's light on a solid water screen, an arc for the ages.

     Stay thirsty my friends           Wizzzmo

BREWSTER STORIES (10) RIPPED OFF! BY A FRIEND?

   Those were the good old days, when my Mom and Dad stayed down the city, where we lived and left me the key to the downstairs converted basement  apartment, in the house we owned in Brewster, our country home. Yea, those were good days. I had a bunch of different friends that I would let stay and party at my place. I'd wake up in the morning and the place was always clean. The female section of our group, which included girls about the same age as my sister, but younger than me, showed their thanks by keeping it that way, so they were welcome anytime. It was a small tight group of young adults and teenagers and we all looked out for each other while experimenting with various drugs that were popular at the time. We played music and all enjoyed each others company. We were a happy family of friends. But I was hated by the parents of the girls in our group. You couldn't blame them, after all we were 20 and 21, my best friend Bob and I. These girls were all still in high school. In school or not, we all were high, that's for certain. I also, would sometimes leave one of the bedroom windows unlocked, so my trusted friends could come and go, in case I was not there. A real nice guy. You think? Some, might have thought I must be a sucker, I guess, or I might not have been chiseled out of half of my stash.
   I had just gotten back from a trip up to Mt. Everett, my paradise in the Berkshires and was wanting to get stoned, when I opened up my cupboard to get my stash. "What the fuck is this," I said. I took the bag of Colombian that I had left behind and noticed about half of it was gone. What a surprise! Somebody ripped me off for half of my stash. "Mother fucker," I muttered to myself. Who the fuck would take half of my stash and leave me the rest? My mind could not formulate the answer to this unsolved mystery and for years I never knew who had ripped me off for just half of my pot and then left the rest for me. It kinda sounds funny, but I figured I must have been ripped off by a friend. Only a friend would still leave you something to still get stoned with. Right? What kind of friend? This I would find out over 20 years later.
   I would occasionally come back to visit my parents for Xmas and would rent or borrow a car and go visit old friends. Me and my friend Bob, who I hadn't seen for a while, were on our way up to Brewster to visit some old friends. Chicky and Patty, who had married and had kids. They invited us to stop by and visit them at their house in Connecticut. We arrived in the afternoon and stayed over night till the next morning. At the dinner table we talked of good old times that we shared, growing up as teenagers in Brewster and how lucky we were to make so many great escapes from the cops, who were the peskiest bunch of ass holes ever. During this conversation, I mentioned the time that someone stole half of my bag of Colombian, but had still left me half to get stoned on. The unsolved mystery was about to start unraveling. Then...., finally..., after all those years of wondering who, Chicky says,"Yea, that was me." Wow! no,WoW! no, WOW!!!!!! "Your kidding that was you" I said. Dumbfounded by the discloser of this information and being a New Yorker by heart, I demanded my other half an ounce back immediately. No I didn't, I was just kidding you my friends. I shot him! Oops..., just kidding again. Actually I don't remember just what I really did or said, so just use your imagination and do or say something to him for me. Thanks, that was appropriate. Well played! Good going!
   So, what do you think? Was he a friend? Or was he not a friend, by doing this dastardly deed?  I'm gonna leave this one to a vote. If you want to vote on this pressing issue, please cast your vote on the comment page and the results will be tallied in due time and process. At that time, I will reveal the count and decide weather he was a friend, or not, at the time the alleged crime took place. Thumbs up? Or thumbs down? It's up to you. Oh,! by the way, this can give all you hippies a chance to vote for the first time, so take advantage of this one time voting experience. Let the votes be cast!

   This is not jury duty my friends,         Wizzzmo

FLASH! WZZZMO'S UPDATE! FLASH!

   Besides from just purchasing some flash paper for Wizzzmo's Grand Floral Parade, I just purchased some real estate in Gnarlywood. That's right my friends, wizzzmo.com has just rented a storefront on Web St. in downtown Cyberworld. My C.D., Storyland, Mr. Pot Tater Head, a pot-culture novelty item, along with my one of a kind Leather Dog Ties, a Giant Bubble Making Kit, Fire Agates, crystals, post cards, tee-shirts and many other items will be available for your purchase, at titillating prices, in our new store. All that you will find is original art and music, with creative and unique items for your every day enjoyment, adornment and listening pleasure.
   Achieve, ignite, push on into the light. Let freedom ring! Our grand opening will be May 29th. We will be celebrating this event with a parade, that will be turtling it's way, down Alberta St., starting around 6:30, from the corner of 28th and Alberta. This gala extravaganga will be featuring an entourage of sexy voodoo goddesses, giant bubble blowers, fireballs, fantastic masks, drums and Wizzzmo's unveiling of his cosmically acquired serpent stick, recently found in the ruins of an old wizards lair. Salem-News.com will be covering the event so that all of the galaxy can attend.
   So be there, or be square my friends. Come 'round, no angles, as the web so untangles, don't be prey to those who fray, let your path be the sound, of your feet upon the ground, breaking strides, till you arrive, spring up, take a dive, let us know that your alive, make a splash, bring your stash and I'll see you in a Flash!!!!!!  The 29th (LAST THURSDAY) in May, Alberta St., Portland, OR.
  
   Let us rejoice my friends          Wizzzmo

BREWSTER STORIES (THE GONGA ROOT)

     I was about 18 years old, when this strange looking shillelagh, bared its ugly vulture-like head, in my direction. Chicky, Bob, John and myself decided to  exploring a house that had been boarded up for many years. It was boarded up so well that nobody even messed with it for a long time. However, though not the first to break through the thickly boarded doors or windows, we were the first to find out some intriguing information, about this mysterious abandoned country  house. We found German documents and swat stickers, with war medals and letters from Germany. We also found a German war helmet and a knife that was claimed by one of the other guys, but when me and Chicky grabbed the Gonga Root at the same time, it was war!" It's mine," I spoke authoritatively. There might have been a fight if he didn't succumb to my grip that I had on the stick. My tone of voice was firm and my will was not to be broken. So I claimed the wicked stick for my own. That was that. We all left the abandoned house with amazing stuff, what a score for a bunch of board guys taking a walk down a country road.
     I brought the stick back to the city, where I had to work delivering boxes of food for Party Inn Caterers. My friend and delivery partner, Dennis Barnum and I, were going on a delivery together, when I showed him my new, awesome, shillelagh. He immediately dubbed it the Gonga Root as he seemed to be familiar with it's strange naturally occurring configuration of a vultures head. He had seen something like it in some other country he had been to and the name stuck immediately. I now had this strange ugly stick that would be part of the magic of the Cathey House later on in my life. This is where I recently was gifted with the serpent stick, that will make it's first public appearance in Wizzzmo's Grand Floral Parade on the 29th of May at the Last Thursday celebration on Alberta St. It will be accompanied by some of my most unusual staffs and wands including the Gonga Root.

     Comme ci, comme ca my friends        Wizzzmo
      Come on down!

EVENT NOTICE (WIZZZMO"S GRAND OPENING AND FLORAL PARADE)

     The great Wizzzmo of Cannabistan will be attending a fabulous event, exactly  two weeks from now. We will be celebrating our grand opening, with a gala spectacle, in the form of a slow parade, down Alberta Street in Portland. The entourage will include sexy voodoo goddesses, giant bubble blowers, fireballs, costumes and Wizzzmo's incredible serpent stick, recently obtained from an ancient wizards cache. Free buds will be available for enhancing your experience on this last Thursday of May, the 29th. Be there my friends, for this once in a lifetime spectacle. Wizzzmo will also have the magic slippers of Wizzzmorella with him, so to try to find his long lost love. Will your foot fit the slippers? You may win a trip through the galaxy with Wizzzmo and his magical, mystical, entourage.
     So come one....and come all.....to Alberta St. in N.E. Portland on the 29th of May. We will all be meeting at 28th and Alberta St. around 6:00 o'clock in front of Alforno Ferruzza to coordinate our onslaught. Don't miss this extravaganza!

     BE THERE OR BE SQUARE MY FRIENDS                Wizzzmo
        COME ONE, COME ALL!

FIRST RAINBOW - THEN SUNSHINE (A HIPPIE STORY)

   In my younger mid twenties, I was traveling cross country quite often. What could be a better way to experience an adventure? I had been staying with my parents in Yonkers, N.Y. where I grew up. I worked construction for my Dad for a few months, trying to get some money together to go back out west, where I now decided I would be living and making my home. My total worth was not enough to buy another van, so I decided to take Rainbow up on her offer and accompany her in her station wagon, on a cross country trip, back to Oregon. I was not a solo unit at this time in my life, my companion and traveling partner was my dog Ryan, the coolest dog in the galaxy, no doubt. We went everywhere together, every time, every day, every every. You know what I mean.
    So the launching date came and I found myself with my dog on my parents front lawn. We were all hugging and saying goodbye, when I kinda felt as if something wasn't right and that it just didn't feel as if I was leaving. I even said to my Mom, that I really didn't feel right, but nonetheless we boarded the wagon and in a moment, we were off on our journey cross country. I was now a passenger, not a driver. I was not turning the wheel, I was not stepping on the brake, I was not in control. This was very strange to me and made me rather uncomfortable and extremely alert with eyes wide open at all times.
     We had been traveling for a while now and I was getting use to my part time passenger status, as I now was now driving most of the time. We were on our way westward and cruising on a warm day, when we incurred our first problem of the trip. Overheating." Oh well, no big deal, I'll fix it." It was hot and after getting some cool water from a nearby stream, I did the deed, I checked the hoses, fixed the cause of the problem and we got back on to the interstate. We were traveling through Michigan now, on this multi-lane interstate highway, that passes through Marshall. It was about 3 in the afternoon and we were just getting over having our first problem, when we had a blowout. The rear right tire was destroyed, but I was prepared with a spare and a good jack to fix it. I grabbed the tire iron and got out to observe and tackle the problem, when HOLY SHIT! fire was coming from the backside of the wheel, by the axle. In panic I grabbed this multi-gallon water bag and tried to fit it under the back bumper and squeeze it on the protruding flames. This was not working, as the fire was in the axle and water would not douse a grease fire anyway. The interstate had slowed to observe the spectacle, while from 200 feet away, running as fast as he could, was a truck driver with his fire extinguisher. He was aware of our dilemma and was playing the part of the knight in shining armor, So with extinguisher drawn, he lay white powder to the flame. The battle raged on. Wonderfully wielding his magic, he conquered the dragon dramatically and put it's wrath to rest. We stood by in near shock and was glorifying and praising him for his gallantry, when from out of nowhere the flames reappeared. The dragon was not done and the flames were worse than before. All of this was happening right underneath the gas tank and sticking around was no longer an option. We ran for the nearby hillside, while the brave truck driver flayed to rest his discharged weapon. The flames were growing out of control and the highway was frozen, with no way to quicken the infantries arrival. I realized that all my wares that made me who I was, were still on board. I had to make a decision. I could let my guitar, flute and my grandfather's violin, all burn in the wagon, or I could go back into the dragons fiery den and rescue my love, my musical instruments and my dreams. I knew what I had to do. Without hesitation, I ran back to the fire, knowing it could explode at any time. I flung open the door to the backseat, gabbed my instruments and turned to run, when my faithful friend and K9 companion jumped into the back seat. He thought it was time to leave. "Ryan" I yelled! "lets go!" He immediately responded and we fled the scene to the nearby hill where everybody was rooting us on. We were safe as I sat smiling and caressing the strings of my beautiful guitar, knowing that I had conquered the walls of the castle and escaped with my love and my life. The dragon blew his flames forty feet across the highway and consumed all of our remaining possessions. By the time the calvary arrived the fortress was burned to a crisp. Very little remained. I realized at that moment, why I felt the way I did, when I said goodbye to my family. The moment when I felt that I was not leaving with comfortable insight in going out west. I knew something wasn't right, just a feeling you could say, a premonition perhaps. Sensitivity, yes. As we sat in the back of the air conditioned State Trooper car, we wondered, just what would we do know? The only things that survived the battle were my instruments, a pair of Fry Boots of Rainbows, a pair of cut-offs that were in the middle of all my burnt clothes and a denim jacket patch that had these words on it, (Have A Nice Night). Cute!
     We slept at a nearby hotel and boarded a plane going back to N.Y. the very next day. I had been staying with my parents who had a homeowners policy that allowed me to collect on my losses and with a couple of receipts from my Dad's friends camera shop, I had enough money to buy a van, so I could get back out west, in the style I was most accustomed to. A hippie van.
     Funny, but hanging around Untermyer Park, which is where all the hippies gathered, I met a blond hippie chick that was very alluring and charmed me into taking her with me, on my trip back across the country. Yea right. You believe that shit? She wasn't charming, she was a dumb blond, a pretty, young, sweet looking girl, ready for adventure and I was just the guy to take her on one. Oh yea! I was like any other horny young hippie, wanting a beautiful babe to travel with. So there we went, my dog Ryan, me, and my new girl, Sunshine. Pretty funny! I left to go out west with a girl named Rainbow and we were turned away by the dragon. So I came back to strengthen my caravan and while doing so, met a fair maiden, by the name of Sunshine. What a bunch of hippies, Rainbow and Sunshine, etc. But now it was time for me to leave the east coast and go back out west. (The west is the best) We can only wait, as another story counts on time, to release it from it's grasp. So stay tunned, till next time.

      Keep truckin' my friends        Wizzzmo