Boy's Don't Cry

Relations,

Good evening.

The tune "Boy's Don't Cry", was the tune that introduced me to Mr. Smith and his band mates in the group, The Cure. I seem to remember it taking no more than thirty seconds and I was hooked...

...and thus began a decades long crush on the same Mr. Smith. A long distance relationship - he just isn't aware of me yet. When he does, we'll all make merry and he and I will have many many healthy baby's.

This tune was also another step towards what was then, "my Goth phase". LOL! Oh yes, I shared many evenings listening to our local Not For Profit Broadcaster doing Goth Night. These fellows, The Cure, Peter Murphy, Dead Can Dance, Bauhaus, etc and etc...

...I don't remember the exact time I was turned on, but it was in the evening around 2200 and was going through extremely intensive therapy at the time dealing with the going's on with and of the Sexual Abuse and the Incest, Rapes and shit. This song made me cry my the First Time I listened to it! In an awesome good and angry way. I cried! And over the years I have shed many more tears with my flags of many colours and this tune, my anthem. Oh yes, I've had many anthems, so too many that I have created a sound track for and to my days here on Mother Earth. This one would be the introduction at the memorial. Perhaps playing the original video?

I remember being told that "Boy's Don't Cry", by damned near every adult and or authority figure in my young years. Every fuqen perpetrator would say the same. Except the one old nasty smelly cigar smoking Spanish bastard in the Spanish theater in Ybor City. I ran and ran up the stairs to my Dad shaking and in a bad tremble. Every damned cigar I have smelled since that time in my life reminds me of the filthy fucker. No matter where, no matter what the occasion, the smell of cigar smoke sends me into smelling memories. Sometimes a Flash Back or two...

...sometimes I remember shit I had forgotten. Shit I tried to remember to forget.

I've always cried in life. I got tired of hiding the tears in my eyes.

Sometimes, my tears are silent. Sometimes I hear them in my Spirit's.

There were many times I cried as a child and young one. I have cried as a young adult and I cried earlier this afternoon. I am 52 and this boy still cries. Life.

Drama Queen? I've been told so. I had a few bosses at the store in the big blue box call me a Drama Queen. Yes, over there at The Best Buy. I didn't care that I was provided such a fancy nick-name while at work. Look, I bet you these Boss Folk, loved this dude, Mario. He was a little eccentric, but damn could he work those numbers! Good Bosses, provided me opprotunities to Bless our Big Blue Box every once in again. Occasionaly, I was asked. And Honored. And yes, I cried. I would burn candles and white sage and cedar to keep us calm, at ease and to remove the negative energies that may had found their way into our store. Very many Good Ceremony's. I may be whatever these good Folks may have called me, I don't think so, ha - but they knew I always busted my ass for them. That, and I was strict as hell when it came to Folks playing with "the white man's money"! This piece of my reputation preceded me in that big blue box! I let myself cry with these Folks from time to time. I trusted them that much you see. And besides, my own wife, sister's, daughter's and too many Kinfolk too, had provided me with this bequeath decades ago. Either Drama Queen or a DIVA. Go figure. Both? Me? What? Naw Boo.

Please do remember this Folks, boy's do cry. In baseball too damn it! Football too! Even Polo!

 Jimmy, thanks for the call earlier, Bro! Your call was like so apropos. Medicine-Man-From-Alabama! It is written, so let this be so - this is your Medicine Name, my Brother. I respect you as much and many others look at you as such. Peace, love and you be well and do take care...

...my fellow Native American.