Mr. Big Shot Says "Hoo-ray! Religion!"

My mother took me to summer bible school at the Presbyterian Church in Omak as a social net working activity. I got to know many of the kids my age during those days and I loved watching the movies they would show about the early disciples of Jesus going out to teach the mission of the Holy Spirit. I remember one poignant moment in one of the films where Paul was struck down by God on the road to Damascus and how he was blinded and then became a disciple of Jesus. I loved those period movies with the ancient settings and the donkeys and goats. The women flocking to Jesus were powerful messages of spiritual attraction.

One summer the teachers started a contest where whoever could memorize the chapters of the bible would win a day-glow Jesus sticker. . . (cont.)

(Image stolen from Washington Post online)

Mr. Big Shot is Back for Valentine's Day

My mother was attractive, intelligent and athletic. She studied diligently as a youth and continued her education in college and then received a Master’s in education in 1937 from Washington State University. She taught school in a one room school house and then became a county extension agent in Pacific County and taught poor farmers how to make mattresses and developed this business for farmers into a cottage industry in South Western Washington. She loved to dance and ski and entertain. I believe she and my father loved each other very much and once the war was over all she could think about was having a family. Then she gave birth to my sister, me and my brother and we never got to know that woman ever . . .(more)

Mr. Big Shot Says: DANGER in the Sticks

What many people don’t understand about life in rural America is how dangerous it is for kid’s growing up. As a young teenager you are thrust into the working life of adults either because of the need for manpower or because you are available. There are many times when you are sent to work as a kid and the danger of that work has not been completely thought through. And then there are your relatives who are trying to make a man out of you. . . .

Mr. Big Shot Remembers: "My Father's Son"

My Dad was loveable, tough, independent, no-nonsense and a very busy man. He graduated from High School in 1930 and everything he had learned about life was swept away by the overwhelming tide of the Depression. His plans for the future were now plans for survival. He and a brother traveled by riding the rails out to the Northwest from Iowa to find employment in a lumber mill working the night shift. He was about 20. Eventually his entire family made it to the mill town of Raymond, Washington but my grandfather whom both my father and I are named after was dieing. He was in so much pain he ground his teeth down the winter before he died. My father went on to marry my mother, another independent character, join the Army and find himself captured by the Germans at the Battle of the Bulge. He then spent six months in a prisoner of war camp with only rice water for food and the coldest winter in the 20th century . . . (c0ntinued)

Mr. Big Shot Reflects on the Great American West

In the summer of 1972 I met Tammy and Carolyn while sunbathing on the campus of Western near the library. It was in college that I really began to belong to the cult of the sun worshipers. Throughout the ages civilized man has worshiped the sun as a god and sun bathers have gathered together in a communal oneness to celebrate our natural humanity. One of my great teachers in this endeavor was a fellow student in my Ancient Egyptian class who dropped out school and spent the next 3 months lying on the roof of his house in Bellingham during which time he turned a toasted brown. (continued)

Intimidation of the Artist

The rare, full version of "Intimidation of the Artist" is available for the first time online at: http://ia360639.us.archive.org/0/items/IntimidationOfTheArtist/Intimidation.mov

See Picasso haunt a Seattle artist from beyond the grave.

((Please be patient while the video loads...))

Mr. Big Shot Remembers "Middle School"

Somewhere between childhood and driving your parent’s car is where you find yourself in middle school. After school one day in the sixth grade I remember 3 girls pantomiming the words to “My Boy Friend’s Back” swaying in unison each girl with their hair done and pretty dresses on and me thinking that they were way ahead of me on the sexual awareness chart. . . (continued)

Mr. Big Shot is RED HOT

Mr. Big Shot continues his roll with "Culture and Lifestyle Choices Among the Okanogians." This guy is ret hot! Is there no stopping him?
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I grew up in the car culture of the west coast of the United States. Not the car culture of suburban sprawl and cul de sacs and drive through food and commuting and waiting in traffic jams and drive through churches and bedroom communities and drink holders.

No, I grew up in the Hot Rod culture and mindset of 1960’s west coast Americana. Cars with really big engines and candy apple red paint jobs and bucket seats and big tires and chrome wheels and big overhead cam engines and getting rubber left on the road and girls hot girls in tank tops and short shorts smiling when you drove by and wanting to ride in your car because your car was so hot and fun and hot and you could be a real man if your car was a great machine with a lot of speed and maybe some fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. . . (continued)

Mr. Big Shot Says: When the Carnival Came to Town

As I remember it. The Christmas of 1962 Santa brought me a red Schwinn 2 speed bicycle. It was a remarkable present as I had not asked for the bike and was not expecting anything as spectacular as this gift. On Christmas day I was out front of our house trying desperately to learn how to ride such a wonderful bike. I was falling into the hedge and the roses and my father would alternately yell at me for falling into the bushes and wrecking his plants and pulling me out of the thickets and putting me back on the bike and pushing me for another start. After an hour or so of scratches and bruises and pain I was able to get around the neighborhood and visit my friends close by. This two-speed bike was a marvel for a kid in Omak. Everyone else had a one-speed bike and they had to huff and puff up hills with the same gear. I, on the other hand, had a second gear I could shift into by touching my pedals backwards and engaging the second gear. It was like getting the wind blowing behind your back. I felt like a prince . . .

(continued)

Heads Up: When the carnival came to town

It’s funny how one, even us management types, can start to think like a self-centered self-promoting artist once one begins to produce art.

With that in mind, how about a little advertisement on the blog for my fans to know that the carnival is coming to town ? soon!

Mr. Big Shot

Mr. Big Shot is "Out of Sorts"

(Mr. Big Shot says about this: " . . .while writing this story I had a lot of energy driving it and I think it was because I first understood, at that time, that you were now going to be livingin Croatia and things would be different.")

So, I got the postcard. I guess I have not gone along for the ride or something. The voyage. Nonetheless, I have been thrilled for you. Loved the pictures and the stories and I hope you bought that old rock. It’s so much more convenient to purchase antiquity rather than having to live through it.

Things are good in Alger. Get your ass back here. I need to borrow your lawnmower and I don’t want to be nice about it. I am tired of being nice to people who pretend to be your friend as long as you are nice.

I need to have my friend back here so I can borrow his damn lawn mower without being nice. And if I were to offer him a few beers he might bring it over as well. God, the world is full of crazy people and they are crazier than when you left. Speaking of crazy . . . (continued)"

Mr. Big Shot Says . . .

Saw a show last night on the History Channel. The M-16 rifle was the subject. Innovative weapon put in the hands of seasoned warriors in the swamps and deltas of Viet Nam in 1967. There were some problems in the beginning with the weapon but once it was understood you had to keep the gun very clean it became an effective killing machine. “The M-16 was innovative in the heat of battle.” “This rifle was my friend when I was surrounded by the enemy.” “Did away with a lot of Viet Cong”, said the broken down, overweight man of 60 who was being interviewed.

I was 18 in 1969. One May night that year (continued) . . .

Mr. Big Shot Says

. .we laughed at the night because we had drunk far more or at least bragged that we had because we were never going to get caught because the stars wouldnt let us and walked in the fog by the slough and saw creatures and werent afraid although I worried there were a lot of shadowy demons around you then and I didnt really need those demons in my life but you werent bothered by it so I just went with it and on an on and we never got caught. And we stopped talking about Yeats and started talking about Picasso and Picasso was heroic and confused and loved the women and we loved Picasso and I went to his house and stood in his studio and wanted to stay there until the French law clerks chased me away because the studio where Guernica was painted is now a storeroom for law files and I didnt want to leave but then I did and we talked more about Picasso and painted paintings and then painted more until the paintings started to stack up with no where to go until you went to your really great island in Croatia and the painting slowed and then this summer I didnt paint anything but stared at the bulls I painted last summer and thought there once was a lot of life in my imagination and I cant let that go. Long live the minotaur and long live Yeats I guess and raise a toast to the Greeks and those splendid vases.