The road goes on forever.

October is the time when men think mostly about far places and the roads which might get them there...Stephen King "Mrs. Todd's Shortcut." 

   I have long been of the opinion that this life is a pale reflection of my real home. It just seems like if I can get still and meditate I will see the real world. Right there. Just beyond the horizon. It's why I have always loved the road. Something about a two lane road heading over the hill and to who knows where has always intrigued me. I mean you could go anywhere. Maybe that road leads to Narnia if I could just keep going. Stopping along the way to revisit parts of my life that I didn't do right the first time. Maybe looking in on my younger self to let him know that most of that really serious stuff is just stuff and if he relaxes it will be a smoother ride. 

One of my favorite Stephen King stories is a little known short story. I think it's in the Skeleton Crew collection. It's called "Mrs. Todd's Shortcut." Mrs Todd is a young woman married to a hard driving successful man. They have a lake house or vacation home in rural Maine. Mrs Todd is young and pretty and a free spirit. An older local named Homer who works for the tourist and keeps up the part time residents summer homes during the Winter strikes up a friendship with her. She has a really nice vehicle. Now if memory serves it might have been a Mercedes. I'm not sure. Anyway, Mrs. Todd is forever speeding around the town and trying to find the shortest route to a big city and back. It might be Boston or it might be Bangor it's been a while since I read the story. Homer is talking to one of his buddies and telling the story of Mrs. OPhelia Todd. Homer is now in his 70's and was already older when he met the young Mrs Todd.

Anyway, she is constantly telling the old timer about her trips. About how much time she's shaving off and her shortcuts. Finally, he agrees to go with her. It's  a wild ride and it seems as if time and space are folding around them. Creatures  that look just a little off are quickly glanced out the window. Not quite a normal beaver or dog or fox. Not quite sure but the birds look a little different and the trees have some sort of will. They seem to move a little. It's exciting and scary at the same time. Something seems to come at them and when they get back there does seem to be the remains of some creature on the front of the car. But, surely it's a stray coyote or something. Anyway during the trip she also seems to transform. She becomes like Diana the Goddess for him. 

Speeding across the sky or in this case  the road in her chariot. She looks beautiful and dangerous and seems to no longer be the housewife of the rich man at home. She's Diana Goddess of the Hunt. They are in a different realm and once they get home Homer takes his leave quickly and gets back to his aging wife and the safety of home.

But, Mrs. Todd is forever talking with Homer about how much time she is shaving off on her trips. She still invites him to come along but he always finds a way to decline. He wants to go. He may even be in love with the young woman. But, he just can't make that leap. Finally one day he talks with her and she tells him she has found a new path. A new shortcut that she will try today. While she talks he can see the Goddess Diana. He knows that this time will be the last time. She invites him but he declines again. The last time he ever see's her is as she is pulling away. Forever young. Forever the Goddess of the Hunt. 

So, years later he's telling the story to his buddy about the long missing Mrs Ophelia Todd. Her husband remarried after a proper time. And of course time moves on but Homer wonders where Mrs. Todd is. He can hear the sounds of the hunt and the carriage bearing Diana. She found a road that led to a different place. A different road. Maybe a road that goes on forever.

I always liked that story. I read it and read it again and not to long ago read it again.I love the idea of a road that goes forever. You never know what might be over the next hill. The next bend. Maybe it will be a world where people fly starships and there has never been death or decay or slavery or murder. Maybe the sky is eternally blue and the grass a green that is so deep that you just feel like rolling and running through it. Flowers and smells, colors and scents that you have never experienced before. 

Old broken relationships repaired and lost things found. Maybe, just around the bend. Just over the hill. It's a place of light and hope and everything is done out of love and out of relationship. I know it's there. Sometimes if I'm really quiet and still I can just see it. Just almost reach out and touch it. I dreamed it was so and so I know it is. 

Peace.

Kickin' it with Jesus on I-59

 Last day of August around 11:00 AM on I-59 heading into the Ham as the locals (especially the radio personalities that long to be eternally cool called Birmingham.) Man that sky is blue and the clouds are fluffy and white. The day is beautiful. Reminds me of when I used to visit Grandma Snead right before she passed. The  sky outside her room would look so blue and the clouds so white. She was by that time bent and hurting from Rheumatoid Arthritis. I wondered if she noticed how bright the day was. I thought of how short life is and I always wanted to take advantage of those bright days while I could.

I like to thank that she (and I really believe she has) found the next part of the journey filled with bright days and a healthy body or vehicle  for her spirit.

 Thanks for the day. I am of course nervous since it's a cardiology check up and Echo but still it's beautiful.

 Jesus: Now why would you be nervous? 

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be rushed into the hospital. Probably my heart valve will come loose in the parking lot. My BP will be so high that my head will explode and I'm pretty sure I will be committed to the hospital ICU and that I'll catch Covid and die."

Other than that. I'm good.

Jesus: You can be silly. 

"I get that from you. or at least from your pop's."  

Anyway, now I've decided that the heart is fine. But, this mole on my face that just popped up? I'm pretty sure my jaw is going to plop into my cereal one morning soon."

Jesus: "Jaysus, you are a worrier ain't ya?" 

Me: I doubt Jesus would say that and I highly doubt he would use his own name with an exaggerated American attempt at an Irish accent  but I try to find humor where humor is due. 

Anyway, he's put up with my humor so far. It's how I stay sane. 

I really am thankful for the day. I know that life has passed really quickly and it seems like yesterday I was just a kid and I swear I still expect to see a 22 year old me when I look in the mirror..

Jesus: You know that even if or when your heart did or does collapse or if  your jaw did fall off into your cereal I've still got you. 

Me: I do.know. I may not be a really religious person these days. But, I firmly believe that as long as I AM that you will be there. IT's one of those  reasons that all though it makes the fundamentilist mad and the atheist rolls their respective eyes I don't fear eternal torment. But, that's my journey and I don't preach. I don't listen to others preaching at me either.

I remember after my heart surgery when the valve stitches were coming loose and I was told I would have to either have more surgery which my heart was possibly too weak to survive or a procedure to repair the valve. Which the surgeon at the hospital wasn't very experienced in doing.

 Cindy came through via her phone and internet and found Doctor Ahmed who was at Princeton at the time and now at U.A.B.. As I was being transferred to Princeton Hospital via ambulance  I just felt  that God had shot me into the universe from a giant pinball machine but that I was headed exactly to where I needed to be at the time. 

Jesus: I had you.

Me: I kind of feel that right now. Thank you.

Jesus: Love never fails.

Life is short. Enjoy the journey and if you ever find yourself heading down the highway or interstate remember that the trip is short but the journey is eternal. 

Peace.

Spiritual Wonderings of a heretic.

 That's me in corner. Me in the spotlight. Losing my religion...R.E.M.

  This is not a blog about how religious or not religious other people should be. This is not about me trying to ask you if I'm right or me trying to tell you your're wrong. This is just me doing a stream of consciousness about where I find myself in my sixth decade of life inside an earth suit supported by a skeleton on a rock hurtling around a sun in space. I always reserve the right to change my mind, make mistakes and even contradict myself. 

I just like to take note of where I am spiritually every once in a while. It has kept me relatively sane all these years. I'm one of those people that talk to themselves out loud when I'm by myself and have a running commentary in my head at all times. I think that's one of the things that meditation does for me. It quiets the mind and stills the body. It allows you to breathe stop judging the constant flow of thoughts and actions of everyday life for a little while. No past and no present and no future. Just breathe and somehow the past,present and future are all there at once and it's okay. 

I often see some of my friends post about their faith and how they live and how the rest of humanity ought to live. But, you see everybody doesn't always see things the same way. The word of the Lord to you is simply a mistranslation of an ancient text or a myth to them. Science to you can often be simply a misunderstanding of reality to somebody else who has experienced something that you call scientifically impossible. But, let me tell you once you have actually had a dream that predicts something and it comes to pass then there is no way to go back to the sterile view that everything is explained by chemicals. One you have studied how scripture or canon was put together and understand just a little of the political propaganda of the so called church fathers then you can never go back to viewing something that is ancient and passed down from word of mouth to word of mouth and based on other ancient stories as fact or absolute.

Still, I'm not trying to bash religion or say that science isn't real. I might have been a raving lunatic and an alcoholic or at least a lost cause without the foundation of prayer and hope that the faith of my Grandmother instilled in me. Without science my heart would have given out and I would have been unable to see enough in my youth to read a book or even watch a movie. So, I'm not anti anything or at least not anti faith or anti science. I just don't have any confidence in religious fundamentalist or people who claim that we are nothing but meat sacks and chemical reactions and I have my reasons for the way I feel.

Stephen King once was asked if he believed in God. The person who asked reminded him of something he had already said about ten years earlier about God. He said something along the lines of "Don't try to pin me down as if I don't have the right to change my view on something." That's kind of how I feel. My view on religion and life has changed over the years and I reserve the right to change my mind. 

But right now in the month of August in my 63rd year around the sun in the oh so strange year of 2020 this is how I feel right now. I tend to think that if we are an eternal soul that we have been here before or at least the "I Am" part of us didn't just happen to start when the sperm met the egg. I have come to think that consciousness is the  cause of all reality and not that matter came first. 

People like Donald Hoffman and Bernardo Kastrup to name a couple of them have made some statements and research that at least for me makes a lot of sense as to why the world is as we see it. https://www.quantamagazine.org/the-evolutionary-argument-against-reality-20160421/

I don't do guru's and so while I am certainly impressed by folks like this I am by no means saying they have absolute truth. I also have been impressed along my journey by Dr. Ian Stephenson and the University of Virginia Department of Perceptual Studies. https://med.virginia.edu/perceptual-studies/

I personally have some memories that I've had all of my life that point to past lives. I don't say much about it because for one thing I'm now sixtythree years old and those memories have certainly been impacted by time and life. Also, talking about such things where I'm from can get you looked at funny at least and shunned as a lunatic or possessed by the devil at worse. So, Imma leave this here and shut up. 

Well at least not talk too much about it. As the comedian Ron White once said "I had the right to remain silent. But, not the ability." 

I have done a lot things in my youth but I also have worked hard to take care of my family. One reason I worked towards a social work degree later in life was so I could provide for my family and have a little job security. I had no idea how cut throat social services could be. But, that's another story and as a retired social worker I no longer have to deal with that.

But, anyway somewhere along the way I found myself doing what ever job I could to put food on the table and I can remember working at a part time job while my wife was a full time soldier in military intelligence. I found myself working a the base Popeyes while also working towards my degree. 

I don't see what's so triffic about creating people and then gettin' upset cos they act like people...Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman...Good Omens.

One day I found myself making chicken overa hot vat of oil. Now, this was a huge vat and you put the batter on the chicken and you carefully lowered it into the hot oil. You would burn yourself just from the heat coming off of the vat much less actually splattering the hot grease. I thought back to the fire and brimstone preaching of my youth and the talk about how God loves you but he absolutely will let you burn in fire and brimstone forever if you don't say the sinners prayer and follow Jesus. By the way he made Jesus go through torment just so he could look at all of us little worms down here without destroying us.

So, there I am sweating over that hot vat of grease and I thought about one of my worst enemies. Back at General Forrest Junior High I knew a dude that was the meanest kid I ever had the misfortune to meet. I mean her reveled in tormenting someone who was smaller and had certain physical limitations. This kid was MEAN. 

But, as I stood over that hot grease I remember thinking I wouldn't take the tip of that mean dude's little finger and touch it in that grease. I wouldn't stand by and watch my most hated (and thank God I don't hate anybody) but even if I did I couldn't stand the thought of them being in that kind of pain and torment. So, no I no longer believe or even want anything to do with a so called god that could do that or allow that to happen to a living creature. So, I will bless you if you are a fundamentalist but I will never be in your club. 

The thing is I truly do believe that we are loved unconditionally at the spiritual level. That our being is part of the divine and we are more than mere meatbots with no other purpose than to live a few short years and hope we win the sperm lottery. I have reasons for that and have even had experiences that point to that.

Two kinds of people I have learned not to spend much energy arguing with are devout religious people which in my neck of the woods are mostly Christian and hardened atheist that yell "SCIENCE" at everyone as if science were some individual entity walking around instead of a whole host of disciplines that we use to research our world that we live in and hopefully make easier for the coming generations.  

I would never join any club that would have me as a member...Groucho Marx

  I often talk with God. I have changed over the years and my conception of God has changed over the years. I have become a Universalist which means that I think that Love never fails and that on some eternal day all creation and all the cosmos will be reconciled back to the source of love that launched it. But, those are just words and words are never sufficient when talking about things of the heart and imagination and spirit. 

I'm thankful for my journey. I have come to believe that everything is one eternal moment so I don't spend as much time regretting my past as I used to do. I think in the end it all ends up back home. 

There is a writer taken home at an early age. But, she came to know more wisdom in 37 years than I have managed in 63. So, this is from her:

When we require that all people must say the same words or subscribe to the same creeds in order to experience God, We underestimate the scope and power of God's activity in the world...Rachel Held Evans.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly movie review.

 I watched the extended English version on Prime Video. I think I was around ten years old when this movie first came out. If memory serves I saw it at my neighborhood drive in theatre The Rebel Drive In Theatre Gadsden/Attalla Alabama. This is a long meandering movie. The extended version is a good three hours long. Filmed in Italy it's one of the famous Spaghetti Westerns of Sergio Leone. The American West of the Spaghetti Western is vast and epic. Rolling hills and vast deserts and wide open spaces. It is also the inspiration of the Dark Tower lands in Stephen King's epic. Not the crummy movie that came out recently. I"m talking about the seven book series. The Good the Bad and the Ugly is a masterpiece. It also brings the horror of war specifically the American Civil War in to play. Now in reality I believe the civil war was mostly an East of the MIssissippi affair. Not totally but still it's odd to see the Union and the Confederacy fighting in this mythic Western background. One of the most telling scenes is when the Union and the Confederate's are rushing at each other on a bridge and killing each other Clint Eastwood's character says something along the lines of "I've never seen such a senseless waste of men." Still, this isn't a civil war movie.

  It's a movie about human greed and the three main characters play it to the hilt. Eli Wallach is brilliant and has some of the best lines of the movie. Lee Van Cleef plays the Bad as a cold and deadly as any Western villain.. The Good by Clint Eastwood is the quieta and fast as lightning gun that you would expect.

Oddly for the movies of that time and this there is no actual romantic interest. No beautiful woman to entice our hero from his appointed mission. That is both a strength and yet a weakness of the movie. This movie could have cut out the Civil War scenes and been a tighter, faster and leaner movie. But, still it works. I watched most of it yesterday evening and finished this morning with coffee. Fun stuff. Also, the first 10 plus minutes has no dialog at all. It works beautifully. But, I highly doubt anybody today would have the guts or artistic sense and skill to pull that off. 

All in all there are more entertaining Spaghetti Westerns and certainly faster moving Eastwood films. But, this holds up 53 years later and there are tricks and skills that modern film makers could learn from.

Books in a time of Cholera.

  Books are a uniquely portable kind of magic...Stephen King.

I have always read books. Starting with Sally, Dick and Jane in the first grade and comic books and right up to novels and biographies and books on various subjects. Now, I haven't always shared my passion for reading. Most of my friends and family are not and were not readers. I understand. I went through a spell of not reading. Once you start working and having family and responsibilities it's much easier to come home and plop in front of the TV. Also, the sheer amount of entertainment we have these days makes it harder to sit with a book when you want to check the latest social media post or youtube video. I'm not saying that as a snob or an egghead. I'm saying that because it's whats I do.

  But, since retirement I've rediscovered at least a little of my reading mojo. Especially now with so much of the country locked down. Don't get me wrong. I love video and sports and movies and shows. I am very active on facebook and there are groups that I follow on different interest that I have. From football and baseball to classic rock and horror novels to movies to reincarnation to ufo's. I even get myself in trouble from time to time by sticking my head out and giving a political opinion.

Books however are where I got my start at exploring the world and other worlds. It's where I read of different people and different worldviews. So, from time to time I like to list and talk about my favorite rock albums or my love of old vampire moviers and sometimes I like to talk about the books that made an impact on my life's journey or caused me to think or just gave me a good time while reading. Some are fun. for instance the first time I ever read Stephen King's "Salem's Lot" I was actually kind of sad to see it end. I was a young person and the story completely drew me in. Small town Maine and the stories of love and loss and getting drunk and fighting and just the quirks of small town life. It reminded me so much of small town Alabama. Which is where I was at the time.

I also remember the first time I read "Out on a Limb" by Shirley McClain. My own spiritual journey was and still is ongoing. For my own reasons this book written by somebody well known seemed to give me permission to explore my own thoughts and opinions out of the mainstream that my own culture had built around me. Not because all these years later I think it's an absolute perfect book. It's not. And not because I agree with all the stuff in it. I don't. But, because at that time in my life I needed to read that book.

  I worked for a little while in the Gadsden Public Library. The town I was born in. I loved the library and for someone like me it was the perfect job. Well, at least it could have been. I was introduced to the library lore. Did you know the basement of the library is haunted? Even if you are from Gadsden you might not know that. The first librarian from way back in the last Century was said to make an appearance up on the library mezzanine. I knew some of the library clerks that would hear a noise and say "Oh that's just Miss Lena." Miss Lena was the founder and first librarian in Gadsden if memory serves. People weren't afraid of Miss Lena and the mezzanine. But, they were not going down in the basement by themselves.

I was brought up on ghost stories. I loved them and would read books or watch movies and be fascinated. The only movie that ever truly scared me was The Haunting based on the Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. Not the remake of the 90's. I'm talking about the Julie Harris black and white 1963 or it might have been made in 64 version.

So, horror fiction has always been my favorite thing to read. Not as much now as when I was younger. I kind of like to get away from horror's these days. But, still I like a good chill once in awhile. Which brings me to a book review even though it's been a long time since I read it.

"Others" by James Herbert is a chilling novel. Made all the more so by the author's own note about the book. While it is a work of fiction it was according to the author based on actual events. Now he didn't elaborate and I can't truly know if he was being serious or just trying to pull the reader farther in. But, there you go. It stayed with me because of the subject matter. The story in itself is a good read. But, some ot the subject matter struck me because it's about things that I consider to be very plausible.

  It centers on a private investigator. Nicholas Dismas is a dwarf and has other physical disabilities. But, he has a good reputation of solving cases and is asked to investigate a case of a missing child who was taken at birth. It leads him to a nursing home and other things as the tension and the paranormal collide. It's subtle but there are certain scenes that slowly build to the final meeting of retribution, karma and grace. There is the story of an old hollywood actor who treated people and especially women and children with cruelty during his lifetime while being acclaimed as a handsome leading man by the public.

It's a story of waking up in hell and of reincarnation and of personal struggles. To say much more would be to give it away. But, it's one of those books that while it's not my favorite. It did have a lasting effect on me as far as the story and the worldview that it explores. So, if you are looking for a chilling and yet thoughtful read you might give it a try.

I think books where the main character has flaws are pretty common. But, books that show deformity and a main character that is physically limited are not as common and honestly I can understand that. After all we love to bond and identify with Clint Eastwood as he kicks the bad guy butt and wins the girl with a devil may care grin and glint in his eye. I know I love the Dirty Harry and the man without a name gunslinger riding into town and kicking ass and taking names. It's fun.

But, in the Herbert novel "Others" the action is more subtle and the horror isn't the raging vampire or haunted car or troubled teenager bringing the walls down on the bad guys.

Anyway, just thinking tonight about library ghost and in this time of a pandemic the escape of reading. Which like life can on occasion while avoiding the issues of the day cause you to consider other issues. Maybe those issues that come at midnight when you just got up to take a wizz and all of a sudden you start thinking about life and death and what the heck are we doing here anyway?

 I know tonight when I go to bed I will follow my ritual. One foot out of the cover but staying on the bed. You don't want it to hang off. Just trust me on that. We all have our little quirks. We don't really think there are monsters under the bed or ghost in the closet. But, It just feels better to keep the closet door securely shut and our feet from hanging off the bed, 

So, happy reading or movie watching or facebooking. What ever takes you to your happy place.

Peace.

Miss America!

  You were the apple of the public's eye. As you cut the ribbon at the local mall. A mirage for both you and us. How can this be real?....Styx

I was raised to think it was one nation. But, it's not ya know. Not at all. Was it a lie? What happened to Old Glory? The nation I was raised in. They told me it was a city on a hill. Was that a lie too? Maybe. But, my ancestors for the most part (google black dutch) were not brought over on slave ships. My Mother's mother was of Irish stock. My mother's father was Black Dutch. No that doesn't mean African American. My dad's family? Snead drop the a and add the y and you have the Celtic origins. My dad's mother was Scots/Irish in heritage.

We love your body in that photograph. Your home state must sure be proud. The queen of the United States. Have you lost your crown?...Styx

But, what about the people who were already here? Call them Indians, Native Americans, whatever makes you sleep easier at night. I honestly wonder what they were calling themselves. Manifest Destiny. Really? God told you to rape the land and displace the natives and talk about freedom?

What was it like to grow up black? Yeah, the Confederate flag was just the flag of my people growing up. I didn't give it much thought. Just fly it a little under the U.S. flag and it's all good. I honestly never thought of my classmates who were black. Who heard stories of slave ships and chains. I didn't mean any harm in my heritage. After all we are all Americans now right?

Well aren't you? (Miss America)
Don't you? (Miss America)
Won't you? (Miss America, Our love)...Styx

See in my family we didn't even know that article one section two of the U.S. Constitution said that black slaves (or more accurately "all other person's.") would count as as 3/5 of a person towards the House of Representatives. But, now I bet that my black classmates knew that. So, what did that mean or make the American Dream to them? The beginning of two distinct nations under one flag. But, what kind of Karma was it building? I was so naive. We were so naive.

Well are you really who we think you are? Or does your smile seem to wear you down? Is the girl who you once were screaming to jump out?...Styx

So, I hear all the Old Glory and look at those beautiful weapons and God Bless the U.S.A. But, what does it really mean? Really Mean. We have Hispanic, black, white, gay, redneck, gangsta,hood, city, country. All the military folks don't look just alike. So, when you say "We will take back our country." Who ya talking about? You think all those black soldiers are with you when you decide to take back your country? Do you love them? Because some of them don't really recognize the country you are trying to take back. I'm not sure it even exist anymore. If it ever did.

In the dream that you must live.
A disease for which there is no cure.
This rollercoaster ride your on.
Won't stop to let you off...Styx

Believe me. I have absolutely ZERO white guilt.I think we are all one race. The human race.  But, I do have a recognition that black people have not lived in the same world that I have. I never really understood that before.

The other day I read where some people wanted to rename the street where four little black girl's were murdered in the 60's in Birmingham in a church bombing. I thought how poetic. How right. How honorable to rename and reconsecrate the ground where a great tragedy happened. But, no. It was shouted down by people saying "I'm not a racist but..." Good God Y'all! Ya can't just join hands for once? It won't turn you into a bleeding heart liberal or a yankee. Please. Just once TRY Alabama. TRY!

Well. Aren't you? (Miss America)
Don't you? (Miss America)
Won't you? (Miss America, our love?)

If you are a white American and you saw a man on TV begging for his life while it was being choked out of him. Crying for his momma while he died and yet your response is to find some past wrong  on his part and blast it over the internet. Well, there is something Broken in you. Can we at least cry with them just this once? Not to justify fires and anarchy and looting. But, just to join in the humanity. What if white America met black America half way? What if the church instead of defending a billionaire who is a "very stable genius." instead tried to stand up for the homeless and the poor and the hungry and the refugee. Oh well. Good God America. Could we TRY? Oh well, It was just a thought.

They were singing. Bye, bye Miss American Pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die....Don McLean...Miss American Pie.

Peace!

Review of Carrie

  I decided to revisit the first novel of my favorite author after all these years. Unlike Salem's Lot or The Stand or even Misery which I've read a few times. I read Salem's Lot every so many years. this is only the second time I have ever actually read Carrie and the first time since it first came out in paperback a lot of years ago. I'm actually more familiar with the movie than the book and I listened to Sissy Spacek read the Audible version along with my own reading of the novel. It has been so long that it was like a first read. Any memories I had were of the movie meaning the Sissy Spacek original and not any of the remakes.

First the Audible version is excellent and Sissy Spacek does a great job of reading it. Being from Alabama I kept picking up some of her Southern or should I say Texas accent at times. But, it was only on a couple of words and she did a really good job of reading the story of the exceptional and troubled young girl from Maine. This story still holds up and if you are looking for a good Audible listen you can't go wrong with this one. Now, to the story.

Carrie as a story really hit home for me since I was raised in the Bible Belt and honestly Carrie's mother reminded me of some of the adults from my youth in a Penacostol church. Even the name of Carrie's mother reminded me of a lady that was really religious back then. Not as deadly with it or as mean spirited of course.

Anyway, one of the reasons that Carrie was a challenging read for me then was my churchy upbringing. Back then my thoughts were Was it a sin to read a book with such irreverent religious imagery of my then Christian faith which brings me back to the story.

Stephen King if he were a churhy person which he is not seems to align from the few times I've heard him discuss it with a more calmly mainline Methodist mindset.

Carrie had the beaten down just get it over with attitude of many of us who were born into a religious fundamentalist family. Thankfully my actual family and my religious relatives were not toxic. The fictional Carrie's family certainly was. Although she had only her mother left.

Stephen King does a great job here especially for a first published novel. He hits the right note of the poor downtrodden bullied teen and the casual cruelty of youth

As a male I think it might have actually worked better with the bulliyng parts from a male perspective. I know how mean teenage boys can be. On the other hand I bet some females will recognize the meanness of teenage girls in the narrative.

I sometimes hesitate to read books from my youth and young adulthood. They tend to seem dated. But, this one about kids from around my time really kept  my attention. This is the young Stephen King. Still full of potential and stories about haunted cars and haunted hotels. Vampire's over running a New England town and a quiet man with a gun and an obsession for a Dark Tower are in the future. This is the start. Not of the Tower or the haunted hotels and cars. But, of the writer. It's a good trip and well worth the time.

Steve Snead <cybrtyde@gmail.com>	6:41 PM (0 minutes ago)