Cliff ~ Author
me laughing @ YOU!
~by Cliff Newman
OK… so every night [sometimes multiple times a night] for eleven thousand nights [that’s thirty years in English] I went to a gunfight without a gun
and I was the only one to go home afterwards.
Oh sure… the gunmen would run into the store screaming,
yelling and barking orders like mad dogs and run right up
to me and shove that pathetic little gun thing of theirs in
my face as if they thought it gave them some power or
hold over me.
One night in 1977 thirteen assassins imported out of New York ran into the store with guns in their hands and surrounded me to fulfill an open contract on me.
Well that was nothing!
You see… there is a dent in the top right side of my skull from a deathblow to the head from when I was just two years old and my left eye looks off to one side from another blow to the head when I was only an infant.
My mother [if you want to call the snarly beast that] was screaming in rage one day and zipped my penis up in my zipper and stormed off leaving me standing there like that when I was only five years old.
My parents took me to the Lake Hodges Dam, made me take off my shoes & socks and walk out on the spillway in 1956. It had been a wet year and about five inches of dirty lake water was rushing over the tops of the spillway and over my feet. Per my parents insistence and having walked out on the spillway way out past where they could reach me and finally deciding not to go any further… I wiggled around so I could see them.
Struggling to stand there on the wet slippery moss covered spillway with five inches of dirty lake water rushing over the tops of my feet making me feel as though I was being washed away and posed there between my parents, the big lake on one side and the hundred and twenty foot shear drop with big rocks below on the other side… suddenly I realized… they wanted me dead.
Yes… I was five years old.
During my sixth & seventh year on planet earth I remember desperately wanting to be hugged but every time I approached mother with my arms outstretched… she would yell at me repeatedly, Get away from me! Get away from me! Get away from me! And each time she yelled… she would hit me [pushing me away].
From my childhood and many other real life situations and experiences of being touched violently… it’s understandable from the emotional stress from the violence and beatings received during my life… that I have shied away from being touched most of my life [sometimes the loneliness overwhelming me] often leaving me with the desire to have never been born.
One night at six years of age as mother stood in my darkened bedroom doorway with the light from the next room flooding in over her shoulders… with her arm outstretched and pointing at me with that ever wagging pointing finger of hers… she roared at me in rage, “God does not want or love you and is going to burn you in hell forever!”
Then one day when I was six years old mother rushed me to the hospital doubled over with gut pain. The doctor told mother my appendix was burst. Well mother [unwilling to spend the 35 buck$ it would have cost back in 1957 to have that fixed] grabbed me by the ear and jerked me all the way to the car repeatedly yelling at me that, ‘There was nothing wrong with me and I needed to learn to live with it.’
Well I was a six year old little boy and believed my mother’s greed based brainwashing so I did learn to live with it but… from the bone crushing pain and the peritonitis eating my flesh and bones that I have lived with ever since I was six years old [now sixty-six] is beyond physical endurance and yes… even beyond the laws of physics.
Today helicopters have become a scientific wonder but back in 1957 when I was six years old they had just been invented and one day a man brought one to our town and was giving free rides. The line to get a free ride on the new helicopter was rather long but when it was dad and my turn I refused to get on. My dad really wanted to get that free helicopter ride and was slapping me around a bit mouthing words about embarrassing him in front of all those people.
Finally the father and son behind us wiggled around past my dad who refused to move away from the helicopter’s door and that new fangled machine took off. It rose up in the air over our heads to about two to three thousand feet… moved around just a bit and then… the propeller blades came to a complete stop and that very big bird plummeted to earth smashing into the ground right in front of us bursting into flames and killing all the occupants.
As my dad and I walked away from that fiery crash that day where my link to the spirit world had just saved his pathetic life… but still angry that he missed his chance to ride that new fangled machine, he continued slapping me around for embarrassing him.
One day when I was seven years old my parents took me to Disneyland back in the day when the one in Los Angeles, California was the only one in the whole world. At some point one of the attractions distracted me and my parents managed to slip away. Later a Disneyland Security Guard found me and took me to the front gate. Then later my parents came through heading out to their car telling the security guard I was not their child.
Thinking back now… it’s unfortunate but apparently the Disneyland Security Guard believed me more than he believed my parents and chased them out to their car and made them come back and take me with them. But today looking back at that day fifty-nine years ago… one might think I would have been better off letting my ‘snarly beast’ parents slip away to their perfect childless life.
It was a one point two mile walk to school everyday and I was thankful for every step for clearly I remember it taking every step of that entire one point two miles to stop crying from the hate, anger and rage mother poured into me with her angry, negative thoughts, emotions and hateful words as I left her house every morning on my way to school when I was in the second grade.
But as most educated people know… our heart, mind and spirit can compensate for much and it wasn’t long before my innocence was lost. Not from sex but… from physical and emotional abuse! First you draw back in shock… then you become lethargic… and then… you assimilate!
Oh yes… mother would fill me up with her hate, anger and rage and then smile and say, “I love you” but her “I love you’s” were overruled in my mind by her many attempts to get rid of me.
One day when I was nine years old… standing out in the front yard looking off into the empty distance… my mind lethargic from emotional stress [my mind not yet switching to rage like mommy’s]… when a middle aged heavy set woman came up to me and started asking me questions. It was only a few moments later when mother came out to see what was going on but then the woman’s questions switched from me to mother.
Suddenly the woman’s hands jerked to her hips and she began foaming at the mouth [probably not believing what she just heard my mother say] as she roared at my mother… “We can’t take him just because you don’t want him anymore!”
Oh yes… my mother had in fact called the government to come take me away because she did not want me anymore and I knew and saw this fact up close and personal.
So thoroughly was the hate, anger and rage poured into me and so intently was I convinced I was an irrelevant and meaningless snarly beast… that I was worth less than nothing [not even worth death] that… one day out in the Oregon wilderness two miles from nowhere, I came around a turn in the trail and found myself standing face to face with a black bear.
Now mind you… I wasn’t afraid or anything like that, mommy & daddy had beaten me senseless with fear so there was none left but I knew beyond any doubt that this black bear was going to whack my head clear off my body but then… only a few moments or so later… it was the black bear sensing no fear in me who threw his paws up in the air, whirled around and ran off into the wilderness screaming… leaving a chubby nine year old boy standing there in the middle of nowhere wondering… what was wrong with this picture [the snarly beast monster in me was finally beginning to form].
One day when I was eleven years old I ran away from school but didn’t have anywhere safe to run to so… I ran to my mother’s house and hid behind a big old eucalyptus tree because mothers house was not safe either. Next thing I knew my dad [most likely called by mother] startling me, reached into my hiding place and began angrily manhandling me.
Then forty or so feet of angry manhandling later he spun me around yelling, “This was going to hurt him more than me” and he started whaling on me but after beating on me for a while… he just quit and stormed off leaving me standing there. No… dad never did ask me why I ran away from school that day nor… why my pant leg was blood soaked… he just liked to beat on things.
After the beating and more afraid of my dad than the boy at school who had stabbed me I went back to school and the abuse never ended for the boy was never held accountable for his actions of violence against me [the whipping boy].
One day when I was fourteen years old and in Palomar Hospital a nurse murdered me, the doctors telling me a day or so later that I’d been dead for an hour and twenty minutes that day when I sat up and said, Ha’lo.
One night when I was seventeen years old I awoke to find a folded up bed sheet being held against my face. When I jerked the bed sheet away my mother was standing there.
Now by no means are my childhood memories mentioned above the whole story but I put them before you here to ask you the following question…
Knowing the above… can you imagine for even a second my actually being frightened or fearful of an angry person screaming at me and shoving a pathetic little gun thing in my face?
Understand this… by the time I was old enough to face gunmen in 7-Eleven Stores while working the graveyard shift for eleven thousand nights… trust me, those gun toting bad boys were NO threat to me! Which brings us back to this stories title…
me laughing @ YOU!
Oh sure ever since I arrested and testified against the Italian hitman’s girlfriend back in the mid 70’s there have been open contracts out on me by members of organized crime and even though I was the intended target… I was NOT the one who kept dying. The Superior Court Judge presiding over the case was so terrified by my enemies he was screaming at me because I didn’t have a gun in court that day so he ordered me to carry a gun 24/7 but I never did. And why would I… I have words more powerful than bullets.
Even to the point in 1996… when another Superior Court Judge was telling people that I was more dangerous without a gun than the murderers were with one.
Go figure that!
So… the Italian hitmen, the assassins imported out of New York, the crazed raging drug lords with machine guns, the mad screaming Islamic Muslim terrorists, the endless list of armed robbers and murderers, drunks willing to kill for more beer, children willing to kill for cigarettes and… the just regular angry people… were never a threat to me. No, not even when they got me dead.
You see… even when they got me dead, they couldn’t seem to get me to stay that way because my Dad [The Living God] just brought me back to life again [and again, and again].
So if you face me with a weapon in your hand… just before you die… there will be a big old smurk on my face and you will know…
It’s just… me laughing @ YOU!
Sorry about the smurk on my face.
It does not come off.
Until the next time I put ink on paper,