Events For 5 Year Old Girls Near Mesquite Tomorrow Night Stayin’ Alive at 55

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Stayin’ Alive at 55

When I was 5 years old, I was in first grade and I was completely inspired by children my age together on the playground, where the hierarchy of order was clear by class, color and wealth. It was the beginning of abuse by bullies who were stronger and leaner than my husky size from my mother who never let anyone leave the table unless all the food was eaten and she cooked for the army. I learned that mass hysteria is easily achieved on the playground. I watched my mentally retarded brother easily manipulate my adult parents. I am learning the fine art of psychology without even realizing it.

When I was 10 years old, I was beaten many times in the schoolyard and at home and at home. My hormones kicked in early and I started lifting weights and bodybuilding. Before long, the same bullies who had been kicked out of the school system for beating me up didn’t come near me. A few years later, a priest at a Catholic school sexually abused me and many others, a long-buried event that only came to light when I was writing the novel, and I used that experience to write the main element of the main female character. As an altar boy, I learned that prayer is no substitute for action to solve my problems. I had to act or allow myself to become nothing more than fodder for those who were sadistically stronger. I learned to question all authority, religious or otherwise. I watched as my unyielding brother was institutionalized for threatening my two infants. I watched my mother blame my father for it. I grew up quickly because of their cracks caused by pure manipulation. I learned to hide my fear well.

When I was 15, I was a high school starter in football as a center, weird because I was the smallest guy on the team, and then because of pressure from the coach, I tried to tackle. I hated it and got out exaggerating my injury. I had become a reliable athlete. I threw the discus and ran the track and the girls were now an attractive force of nature, but I knew there was danger in paradise. I learned to play the drums. I learned that even though I had a much higher education at a Catholic school, there was a vacuum inside emotionally. I was looking for acceptance and allowed myself to be used for that. I felt like a poor boy at a grand banquet and didn’t deserve to be there. I learned that I have to start a continuous process of trusting myself, loving myself before I can go any further. I learned how hard it really was.

When I was 20, I drove a forklift, made a lot of money, went to Jamaica by myself, didn’t come back when I should have, and Scott Paper fired me. Then I went back to college after dropping out after the first semester when college was on the Atlantic City boardwalk due to a construction strike, and two and a half years later I graduated with a degree in music. I gained strength from adversity. I came in knowing nothing about music until I graduated in a very short time from the Who’s Who Course in American Colleges. Being immersed in knowledge and technology at that time made it the most incredible part of my life. I learned that I had an incredible passion that made me go for the seemingly impossible as I truly began to believe in the spirituality of the power within me. I studied religion avidly and didn’t care what anyone else thought of me. I learned that I had the power to do incredible things when I surrendered to that power and let the energy flow through me. I learned to be vulnerable and accept failure as a short-term failure of success, and then realized that it was an inevitable part of it. I learned that listening is more important than talking, that being smart is being smart without having to prove or impress.

When I was 25 years old and ready for a career after graduation in 1977, the recession and the “gas crisis” became a rough time, and I was shoveling coal for a local utility company and in my rented house in a South Jersey farm district. was burgled and we lost everything my girlfriend and soon-to-be wife owned. During the summer we lived in a tent at a friend’s property. My favorite uncle was able to get us an old chauffeur’s quarters behind a former mansion now used as an American Legion hall for $90 a month in Pleasantville, New Jersey. We started playing music in clubs in and around Atlantic City. I enjoyed the night life and playing great music to appreciative audiences, the experience was soul-satisfying, but paid relatively little. I learned not to depend on anyone but myself for everything, and that some old friends are best left alone when they become toxic. I realized that the pain I experienced as a child now allowed me to better deal with the bitter parts of life that I could not change.

By the time I was 30, I was now working in a casino as an audio technician, learning my trade both from books and on the job. It was a new era of growth for the area with incredible casino expansion, but like anything, greed begets greed and the corporate structure killed the golden goose. Political and corporate stupidity was constantly at work, and I learned that what “seems to be” is far more important than “what is.” A few months later, I watched my father die. I learned to accept my mortality and wept for time. I saw what felt like so much time wasted and bitter, I still hadn’t gained the understanding and enlightenment to be at peace with it.

By the time I was 35, I had now been married for a while and had bought a house in the country with too much grass to mow and developed severe allergies that wouldn’t be discovered or even tested until 5 years later. It was a time of false bliss, thinking that possessions and money could bring happiness. My move to the Taj Mahal nine months early to prepare for the opening was both the beginning of “The Donald’s” and the death of me in this 1990s era. Chasing corporate dollars was a pastime, not a fulfilling career, though it provided enough comfort to stay safe and risk-free in the corporate cradle. I learned that physical pain is never understood by anyone except those who have experienced similar pain. The headaches were getting worse and the workload was excessive. I learned to trust only a few key colleagues. I learned that threats must be proactively stopped before they can be overcome regardless of personal circumstances. I learned brutal bloody cold from the very best leadership Donald Trump has to offer.

By the time I was in my 40s, my health was failing, the headaches wouldn’t stop, and my high school football-worn knees could barely handle the constant East Coast humidity. Out of work I became depressed and then my left arm went numb from C-4 nerve damage that no one had realized for 8 months. By then my marriage was broken up, I had no job, and I went to Las Vegas with less than $1,000 and was looking for a job while I knew my wife wouldn’t be going with me at the time. My divorce soon followed when Merv Griffin called and needed an Entertainment/Technical Director for his new location in Mesquite, NV. Of course, greed also reached those owners and they went on their stomachs. When I moved to Las Vegas, I was diagnosed with a bubble boy allergy. The severe headaches and cysts kept me miserable and for the next six years I had allergy shots…after two pointless surgeries back East without even testing for allergies, and two more in Las Vegas. I was working at both the Sahara showroom and the Stratosphere (before opening) full time and banking to make up for losses from previous years. I learned that the world always looked the other way when faced with the truth and offered solutions to complex problems because they really didn’t want anyone to know anything that could take away their corrupt advantage. I learned that the most important thing is to understand living in the present. My past was constant, the future is yet to come. I began to understand the wisdom of the past that led to what was “now” and the inevitability of what could only be based on the choices I made.

When I was 45, I was working at the Tropicana in Las Vegas and managing audio at the Folies Bergere, and then 3 years later completely transformed and ran their technical department for conference services. After many ups and downs in the past, I married a woman I had known for over 24 years and her band was booked many times in Atlantic City at the Taj Mahal and other venues. The irony was that her band would have played at my first wedding but they weren’t available, but I booked them for my brother’s first wedding……her family was 20 minutes away from my childhood home in New Jersey. ….I met him in Las Vegas at the Riviera Lounge one night… it really is a small world. A few years later I had emergency surgery on my skull to prevent the infection from going to my brain and holes were drilled in the area above my eyes to drain the poison, for example I needed two holes in my head. Apparently, it worked. I watched my mother die at the age of 67. I learned that I can count the number of people I can truly trust on one hand, as my father prophesied and warned me 30 years before. I never gave up on myself.

When I turned 50, I planned a big birthday party and made invitations with a picture of a man in a wheelchair with an IV being cared for by a nurse. Little did I know that I would be in the hospital fighting for my life due to emergency surgery for a spinal infection. Actually, I took a straight line and died, but I was given the choice to fight and return to the pain and bittersweet experiences of life, and I accepted it despite the painless beauty of this afterlife experience. Nerve damage gave me up, but I took it as another challenge that life had thrown at me since I was a spanked child. I learned that love really does conquer all and the love I had for my wife brought me back to the land of the living so I could tell her and others that I was fine on that “other side”. Despite the best efforts of the doctors and the hospital, I survived and tested myself after 5 weeks in intensive care. I also learned that “the patient does his own research” and does not trust “practitioners”. Irony after irony was that I had already written a near-death experience in my novel 10 years earlier that paralleled my actual experience. I learned to laugh at death, embrace the preciousness of life, and let the epiphany of life itself imbue my every action. I finally published my novel, opened a restaurant with my brother, and took risks without fear of consequences. I was finally free to be who I had always been and dare to do things without fear, supported by those who cared, regardless of success or failure.

Now I am 55 years old and I am happy to be alive despite the paralysis and pain after the operations and I know that life itself is the most important thing. There is much more to my life than these events, the passion, the intense work and the rewarding results, the dreams that became reality and the dreams that are still alive cannot be described. It’s way more important than what I’ve done. There is no great secret to living your life except to survive and make lemonade out of lemons. Those who have a weak mind do not survive and cannot be stable unless they become conscious – this is not an attempt. You have one chance and one chance only, so why care what anyone else thinks? I’ve learned that relying on pure hope without effort is an invitation to disaster, but it’s the single most powerful emotion in human existence that gives us the strength to face another day, and then another, and then another. .

Now, on the first of November, I will raise a glass to my diabetic ass to drink in thoughts of my special birthday, celebrating my life, my wife, and the sacrifices of my parents. Me in this world and finally for the suffering and sacrifice of all those who are brave enough to procreate in this unknown world. To my nieces and nephews and everyone else, I leave you with this: do what makes you happy, and in the words of Joseph Campbell, “always follow your bliss.” Anything less and no one else is to blame for your unhappiness. Accept the pain and deal with the inevitable, and then enjoy your existence every day.

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