DEVILS ADVOCATE

     After my last Blog, I am catching more static then a Tesla Coil sitting under a Lightning Storm. Who knew ?   I guess I let the horse out of the bag or closed the barn door after the cat ran away.  Am I mixing my metaphors? Why do people only mix their meta 4’s and not their meta 5’s ? Who knows?  I DO know that I am going through a metamorphosis AND I never Met-a Morphosis I didn’t like! The only thing we can do is carry on. I feel like a moth.. compelled to fly into the flame.

                                         THE RING                                                              I was fortunate to grow up and spend alot of time with my maternal grandmother. My mom was raising 3 kids, dad was gone and my mother was working a full time job and then coming home to take care of us kids. My older sister worked hard and helped ALOT and I did  some little chores but nothing like my sister!  My only brother was the eldest of the 3 of us. How shall I put it? He was… busy with school. My grandmother raised her own kids and now she was raising some more. She taught me alot. When I walked home from school every day, she would be waiting for me and we would always play some cards and usually bake a pie or two.  With the leftover dough, I got to make Devils Noses. ( rolled up like croissants with butter, sugar and cinnamon.) Why Devils Noses ? Your guess is as good as mine! This was over a 3 or 4 year period of my life. The playing cards were kept in a cabinet. One day in the back of the cabinet I discovered some funny cards.  I asked my Grandma what they were. She explained in no uncertain terms that these cards were NOT a game. They were something serious. They were TAROT CARDS. I left them alone. After the Tarot Cards were discovered, I asked alot of questions. I got alot of answers. My grandmothers maiden name was Hopkins. She explained that in the old country         ( Ireland/Scotland)) long ago the name was Hobkins not Hopkins.Later in life and being a little curious I did some research. Hob is a nickname for the Devil.

Kin= Family- as in kindred. =                                                      Family of the Devil/Lucifer

She told me that women in the family usually have the “gift” and… that it was ” special” that I had… the “gift”.

   Grandma lived a long life. I was always hypnotized by her ring.  It was a beautiful pentagram made of platinum encircled with diamonds and every point and intersection of the star had diamonds. It was a Eastern Star ring. Eastern Star is a charitable, benevolent worldwide Womens Organization that does alot of Charitable work. (Under the Radar ) they are the womens group of the Masonic Lodge / Temple. Why don’t you know who they are ? They do not blow their own horns,  Just like the Masons. The young men are Demolay,.. ( Jacque Demolay) i.e. Friday the 13th- Templar Knights ? The young women are ” RAINBOW GIRLS” aka JOBES’ DAUGHTERS and the Masonic Lodge dates back to the Building of King Solomons Temple. I never signed up but I have been invited. I followed a different path.         ( with some regrets)  Too much to tell but easy for YOU to research if you are interested. This is not conjecture.  Almost all of our Presidents have been Masons, but relatively few people know who the Masons are. The Shriners are Masons and they have Childrens Hospitals and Burn Hospitals that do not charge money if someone is unable to pay. My grandparents were not rich. They did what they could and they were Family First people. Lucky for me. When I was a teenager and my mother remarried, my grandmother told me again that it was the women in our family that had psychic abilities and that I was an exception. She knew I had the gift or (curse) of being psychic.  Lucky me! Trust me, it has been a small boulder that I roll up the hill every day like Sisyphuys and then it just rolls down again. It is a curse.  It is not like a light switch that you can turn on or off. It is more like a 6th sense. Everybody has it to some degree. Sometimes it is more obvious.

It was September 25th, 1970 and my 16th Birthday.  I went out and got stoned with my buddies and drank and got really screwed up. I figured nobody would be awake when I got home. When I stumbled home at

3 am. I was at our front door  and I only had one key on my keychain.  I was  trying to get the key into the door and it was like a Rubix’s Cube Squared trying to get the key in. I was totally baffled.  So the front door opens and it’s my mom and she is 5’2″ tall and she has been waiting up for me.   Fortunately, she was as drunk as I was. I was already over 6 ft. tall. She starts calling me a “little son of a bitch” and I start laughing my ass off ! It was not the” little” that got me, but the IRONY of her calling me a  son of a bitch was just so funny !! She finally got it.  She  was anything but ! My Nazi WWII German Paratrooper Stepfather was no doubt drunk and passed out.  ( that will be a different blog)  My mom and I bonded that night but I sensed something was wrong , really wrong, and bad. I let it go.Shortly thereafter, my mother told me to make sure she was buried with her rings on. She told my sister in what dress she wanted to be buried. My mother heard her train a comming! My mother was only 43 years old.  Exactly one month after my birthday on October 25th, 1970 my mom and my stepfather were out to dinner with friends. Drinking as usual.  She did not drink before he came along. I was upstairs in my bedroom and asleep.  I awakened and a short time later the phone rang. I would not answer the phone.  About an hour later, I hear footsteps on the stairs and my bedroom light switch comes on and my Sister and new Brother in Law step into the room. I sat up in bed and said “Moms dead right ? ”  They asked how did I know? I told them I knew as soon as it happened.” My mother was killed by a drunk driver. The drunk driver was my stepfather. My stepfather ran a red light in their new 1970 2+2 FORD MUSTANG and got broad sided a couple miles from home by a Big Rig Truck. The truck hit on my moms side of the Mustang and she hit him and broke some of his ribs. the Nazi survived, mom died.  It is not a gift. It is a curse. I do not want to count and tell you how many times I have known when someone would die.  I am a joker… but this is not funny and not a joke.

I have been silent for a long time. The time for silence is over… thank you for listening, but more important….

***** LEARN TO LISTEN TO THAT LITTLE VOICE*****                                                                                                                                             DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE !

EAT, DRINK AND BE MERRY  !!    BUT CALL A TAXI, OR UBER OR A DESIGNATED DRIVER!

          BE    LUCIFEROUS = ENLIGHTENED !!                                             Look it up in the dictionary !!

marc

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