---------Saturday, August 30, 2003---------

Hey everyone! Your favorite Mistletoe Angel here, which some of you also know as Singing Sparrow, DaffodilAngel, so many other cute names I come up with!

Welcome to my new interactive journal, where both those of you who have gotten to know me and those not quite familiar with me can get a close glimpse of my many thoughts, journies, escapades,
ponderings, epiphanies, dreams, sleepwalks, the whole package. I love to talk and love to hear other people talk too, so let's get to spread horizons!

Just this week, I began my second year at the University of Colorado at Boulder. Yep, yep, I know, for so long many continue to herald the domain as the #1 party school in the Mid-west, yet I would prefer a nice read and a mango smoothie over the disco lights and Smirnoff any evening. Guess I just like to live the dream of a pioneer or Robert Pirsig, getting to ride down the frontier line all over again. Makes me miss that mini Etch-A-Sketch I used to play with all the time as a boy, charting my own cities and by-passes. Re-inventing U.S 66 would be a miracle in my mind.

Anyway, here is my schedule for the Fall 2003 Term:


MONDAY-WEDNESDAY-FRIDAY

12:00-12:50: Intro To Creative Writing
1:00-1:50: Intro To Humanities 1
2:00-2:50: Second Year Spanish
3:00-3:50: Recitation: umanities

TUESDAY-THURSDAY

2:00-3:15: History of the American Southwest

What's funny is how my mind wasn't originally aimed toward the arts and humanities. I remember quite so vividly engaged in chemistry and building rockets you can launch with a remote, making my own geodes and amethyst caves out of food coloring agents and styrofoam. In trying to escape the pressure from the bullies that picked on me walking home from school every afternoon, I would engage in these after-school extracurricular sci-fi classes. I'd make these models of molecules out of cornstarch and rice tortillas, or design your own matchbox cars then launch them with a magnet. It's funny how your parents may ask you time and time again what you want to be when you grow up, when simply the predilection is to simply be a child and explore all the possibilities. I never had a real happy childhood outside my family but a least I got to try and experiment. I believe our tastes never get sour or bitter, they only evolve, and I still respect those who dedicate their lives to finding technical solutions that can apply to our daily practical lives. Just isn't part of my repertoire, I suppose. Science has romance, no doubt, just not as much as before. There is a conduit that scientists follow in order to find new answers, and I guess I'm just a bit impatient in that department. I want to be able to create, paint, sculpt, be the architect of my own monument! And I want to share it! That's what art is all about, sharing. Vincent Van Gogh is a genius in my book, as is J. Ann Masiker, Gilbert Williams, and that artist our dear friend Suetang loves so very much, Josephine Wall. I just love that you share her art in your poetry, dearest Sue, as I believe to see as much art as possible is a blessing. And I vow to keep sharing also on my part!

Before I became part of this wonderful Passions family (I love you all so much, Pooh bear
hugs for everyone, yay! ) I went on wild Google searches trying to find magazines I could submit my poetry to. The first place I submitted poetry to was known as Perspectives Magazine. Come to think of it, it has been a while since I've been there, but if it still exists, it is at http://www.perspectivesmagazine.com.  I submitted four poems there: "An April Without Rain", "Good Morning Cameron", "Silver Linings", and I am unsure of the fourth but it may have been "Eta Carrirae", named after a white dwarf star that exploded in recent years. The host enjoyed my work, yet it was a slow site and I knew I needed to find more. So I tried Poets Place, and got only a couple submitted there. Then one March day while searching, I discovered a poetry forum by the name of Papa's Poetry Circle. One of the hosts was (yep, you guessed it) none other than our pal Cpat Hair! VAS (Virginia Salter) was also a frequent poster there, Mutington, Whittler, and others. I went by the name DaffodilAngel then, and I actually had my very own poetry forum later, by the name of "Dreaming With The Daffodils". I have always been fascinated with flowers, but daffodils in particular because my grandparents, who live in the southeast Missouri countryside, have meadows in their backyard filled with them, along with day lilies, and I just love to lie down among them (even when the honeybees are out, LOL!) I originally titled my own poetry forum that because of my surreal love for the daffodil meadow but now come to think of it more, I also titled my abode that as a tribute of love to my grandparents who I love ever so much. Yep, that was a wonderful experience for me. For a while my forum would have 30-40 poets a day posting there, and I love company. But then when I was deep in my studies, I couldn't watch over the forum and it finally collapsed, so I closed the forum but left open the archives so the memories can be there. There is always a possibility I will re-open the forum, as I would love all you friends of mine there, and I'll let you know if that becomes possible.

It was a very interesting experience for me to get to share poetry on a more social level. I would submit three times a day most days, then I decided to expand my vision. So I identified a link from Krysalis to the now-late forum Beyond The Bridge, featuring a fabulous poet by the name of Michelle who went by the nick-name Krysalis. She is quite talented, and I regret to inform I don't know where she may post her poetry now. But there I met so many familiar poets, such as Mutington, Startime, Whittler, and Cheryl. I guess at certain times moderating the place, Krysalis was going through some tough times, so we kept praying for her and if I recall correctly, she closed the forum suddenly when it may have become too much for her. It was quite a shame. I have much respect for her and know God is taking care of her and her loved ones. It was just before that time that Mutington (Joyce O'Neal) told me she had opened her own poetry forum, and I deeply appreciated her poetry and comments very much, so I joined in immediately. Even with a few small hiatuses in the running of the forum, Mutington's Meadow remains open (you can find her gorgeous forum at http://www.voy.com/7622/          
and I was one of her original "meadowlarks" as she loves to call her family of poet friends. The place just continued to get bigger and when the forum originally had a black background with yellow text font, she designed it so it truly felt second to nature itself. She put in gorgeous robin-egg sky wallpaper, added pictures of a meadow which she changed seasonly, and included WAV files of sparrows and orioles chirping and chipmunks giggling! It felt just like home, and though my studies kept me away from the forum a few periods of time, Joyce continues to call me a true meadowlark. I hold so much respect for her!

Finally, I discovered Passions in Poetry when I noticed Joyce and Startime (Karen), who was her
co-host at the time, posting there. When I first saw the forum I said "Wow, look at all those people here!". What did I have to lose? So I made my first post on December 17, 2000 at around 12:30 that afternoon. I went with the name Mistletoe Angel I suppose because my name was originally Daffodil Angel and Mistletoe Angel sounded appropriate for the winter and holiday season. Now when I think about my name more often, I think my name has more meaning than ever. I believe Christmas is the most beautiful holiday of all and along with celebrating the birth of Jesus, it is all about the values of family and loved ones, to share, to love, to give, to be merry. Shouldn't that be what life is all about? I certainly don't mean every day you must buy presents for your loved ones, but to give your love, share your love, to love unconditionally. I now truly believe I am a good person, and want to be everyone's companion. I want to try and make every day feel like Christmas to your hearts, knowing you have a friend and are special. Mr. Rogers and Bob Ross taught me these values when I watched their shows all the time, and I believe in them with all my heart. So I attempt
to set an example and spread the flu of love to everyone, as mistletoe is a parasite but some parasites can be beautiful if they make you feel warm and toasty inside.

I must admit that I took me a while to feel welcomed at Passions. I was guilty then about
believing the more comments you get for a poem, the more special you are. I never got above 8 comments on any poem until I neared my first anniversary at Passions. I had a huge streak of poems only getting 1 or 2 replies, sometimes zero. That truly made me feel a little sad inside. And I admit that before I didn't comment nearly as much as I do now, neverheless I still followed the suggested posting guidelines and made an effort on many occasins to comment to at least a few poems before posting. I guess I felt hopeless, but I stayed on Passions because I had a couple loyal friends posting alongside me that supported me, and, because I have a strong will at things I take pride in. Finally, when I was going through a period of depression, and truly wanted to leave Passions, so many of you wonderful friends tugged at the heart on my sleeve, begging me not to go. And I must confess that when I saw all your gorgeous comments and e-mails, it made me cry in floods of tears and gave my heart big hugs. So I stayed and since then this whole place feels like a second family to me, yay!

I'm going to...to the best of my ability...update as my story continues. We all have a story to tell
and I, for one, love to tell all about it, so my friends and loved ones can in the future have all
I say to remember me by. Love you all, here's Bear In The Big Blue House hugs for you all, yay!    

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (08-30-2003 02:48 PM).]

------------Sunday, August 31, 2003----------

Ever since I was a little boy, I have loved collecting various, random objects, pictures, and trinkets. Ambience is a $5.00 word for atmosphere, and I take almost any word written in dactyllic pronounciation seriously. Is that right?

Every generation leaves something behind that is truly "it". In my case, it would be Micro Machines, Boglins (remember those Smurfs Meet The Munsters things?) Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Matchbox sets, Furbys, My Little Ponies, and of course...the legendary Pogs. You remember pogs, don't you? Those little cardboard capers in all sorts of groovy artistic designs that you pound with a slammer and get as many as you can that land face-up! Yep, I was part of that Hawaiian craze. Come Christmas of 1996, I probably raised the stock up $12.00 before Christmas eve.

I also got a Sega Genesis back then, and fell in love with Sonic the Hedgehog. I still have my Genesis, and I also have my Sonic plush toy, the Sonic mini-pinball machine, and I used to have the Sonic handheld game and Sonic cassette player. Except for Dr. Robotnik, who didn't love that spunky blue rodent? Some of my young wildest dreams was to have those candy-cane sneakers and run as fast as him. I even tried track-and-field as a child, and I was never that fast though I could jog long distances without pausing. For eight consecutive weeks I ran the famous annual Bolder-Boulder 10K race each Memorial Day. I have a picture from every one of those races, including the first year when I dumped lemon-lime Gatorade in my hair! It took a good three hours to get the stickiness out!

When you often hear about what boys love to play with, you usually hear army men. My grandpa did give me a shoebox filled with them, though I never played war with them. Instead, I invited them to join tea parties with my sisters, who used to collect My Little Ponies and Barbies and I just adored playing with them. That's OK, you can call me a goof if you want but I have truly always loved what girls play with, as that is how we should play with each other.

I also have a big love for stuffed animals. For instance, do you remember that cute, spunky chihuahua Gidget, who used to be the spokesperson for Taco Bell? (giggles) I still love that pup sooooooo much, and in fact I tape-recorded all his commericals I could find on a Maxwell VHS and love to watch them on a nothing-doing day. I have a stuffed Gidget that I keep beside me when I go to sleep, as well as a Tweety Bird, Mr. Bill, Woody Woodpecker, Brer Frog from Songs of The Southland, and a cute hamster in a gi with numchuks that sings "Kung-Fu Fighting" while twirling his numchuks when you push the button on his wrist. And...remember when Ty Beanie Babies were the real thing? I have a truckload of them, just because they look sooooooo cute. I also have some of those Grateful Deady bears. I have yet to find the Jerry Garcia collectors edition.

I too have action figures, in fact a good number of them. I have almost the whole collection of those Austin Powers action figures with those sound clips that speak one big catch-phrase from each character. I got Austin, Dr. Evil in both his grey suit and space suit, Mini-Me, Dr. Evil and Mini-Me with the Mini-Mobile, Fat (expletive), Scott Evil...much of the bandwagon. Speaking of which, does anyone know where I can happen to find Nigel Powers? That would be much appreciated!     In addition, I have Tarzan, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer series, a few of the Crash Bandicoot series, Star Wars, Xena: Warrior Princess, my cousin Zackery gave me some of his WWF figurines, I have a lot of them. I got many in particular because I used to make my own creative home video action series, which I titled "Justice Offbeats", which I will talk about it next time.

But my passion in collecting goes far beyond toys. I am stoked in collecting items in every place I go to as possible. I collect business cards, license plates (I am up to 26 states so far) which I hang on my bedroom wall, posters, like the Shakira one I have on my closet, some of my favorite Avalanche players like Patrick Roy who retired earlier tis year from the NHL, and some of my favorite movies like The Breakfast Club, lava lamps, tie-dyed T-shirts, sarapes, Hawaiian shirts, incense holders, The Onion newspapers, hats, soda cans from foreign countries, Archie comics, bumper stickers with inspiring quotes, stickers with subliminal messages like "Free Tibet" and "Mind The Gap", brochures from state parks and Disney resorts, Latin candy wrappers, geodes, lunchboxes are some of my favorite collectables, like The Little Rascals & I Love Lucy, and many other trinkets that were "it" from earlier generations like chattering teeth and Rubix cubes. I make an effort to continue to update my bulletin board (which I haven't gotten to do as of late) as I believe that there is a reason why we all use bulletin boards. It represents a window of your soul, and I believe we all must festoon it like Michaelangelo painted the Sistine chapel ceiling or any Florence artist that made the most extraordinary frescoes, so take that wall and make a masterpiece that doesn't have to make sense until one takes time to examine it day by day, and then come to realize, "Hey, this is just you!".

By how I describe my room, some of you may think I am rather disorganized. I find that half-true. I believe I am as organized as I should be, for if you live on routine, schedules, and organization every day, I believe oneself begins to feel disorganized. Dedicating a life to keeping a house clean can somehow feel depressing to me. I am not thrilled about trash being on the floor or dirt being on the carpet, but I believe our rooms should have a mess in some way, just to know that we feel right at home. To me, keeping a house all spick and span in every aspect and coming home from work one day and stepping right into the room can truly not feel like home at all, rather like checking into a hotel or a house you're rentaling for Spring break. When I see the character me and my sisters rooms has, I feel lucky and free.

So, let this be the lesson for today! I have a nostrum for everyone who may feel constantly incarcerated in apathy and routine. Make it a mission (if you choose to accept it) to embrace the world each day, on every drive in your vehicle or stroll down the boulevard, and find something random or look for something random, or if you have a friend with you, each time speak of something different other than the usual tagline "How's it going?" or "Wassup?" or "How was your day?". God gave us a gift to speak and create, and offered us a library of beautiful words in various vernaculars, so take advantage of this limited-time offer and express yourself in various ways, as you only live once!

Uh oh, I hear your mom calling you, she wants you to clean your room! No wait, she said mess your room! You heard her, so get up there, scatter some magazines and photogaphs on the floor, and I guess I'll let you go for now! Take care now, bye bye then!

Love,
Noah Eaton

Currently In My CD Player:

More Than You Think You Are: matchbox twenty
New York: Lou Reed
A New Day At Midnight: David Gray

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-01-2003 04:19 AM).]

-----------Sunday, September 7, 2003---------

How Mistletoe Angel Got His Groove Back (Or Found It For The First Time)

Jimi Hendrix, rock and roll's greatest legend, once said, "Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music."

Truly, I used to not believe that. Like I mentioned in my last entry, I was ultra-sensitive to sounds and lights in the movie theatre as a child. The exact same thing happened to me when I listened to the music my dad played (which I now love so much). Bruce Cockburn, Jackson Browne, Peter Gabriel, The Who, R.E.M, Bruce Springsteen; those are all the artists he has worshipped all his life. But before I turned 11, I always failed to understand what they were saying. I heard no melody, no rhythm, no cadence, just a bunch of noise pollution. I couldn't remember any artists names or couldn't sing along to any songs except Christmas jingles. My world was nothing but amplified serenity.

Then, when I turned 11, I finally heard something that deeply touched my heart. That early 1995, when Counting Crows were just beginning to emerge as a famous rock and roll outfit, my dad put "August And Everything After" into his CD player of his car as we were driving east down Interstate 70 to Missouri to see our grandparents. Hearing the first track off the album, the hit "Round Here" literally made me cry, because the main riff had beauty to it I can hear and interpret. Then you hear Adam Duritz's heartfelt vocals, and from the start I knew I well esembled the character in his song. As time went on, that song only is of greater importance to me and then I saw an article all about the song that made me cry, which Adam Duritz explains:

"This guy has heard all those life lessons that you're given when you're a child about what you should do to be a good adult and carve out your name in society -- all those cliches. He's an adult now and has the rights to do the things that 10-year-olds aren't allowed to do -- but so what, it's nothing. Everything has such consequences for him, he can't touch anything or anyone, he's terrified. By the end of the song, he's so completely lost; he's become more of a ghost than a person, and he's taking other people down with him. When you are a kid, people are always telling you to wait and they are always sending you to bed early. Round Here is a song about someone facing a life that doesn't seem to be the logical end product of all the things that he thought were leading up to it. For a list of these cliches of childhood, see every line of every chorus. In that last chorus he is saying I got all the things I wanted when I grew up(e.g. not having to wait for anything, staying up late) and it doesn't seem to mean anything("i can't see nothing round here")."



Realizing that I was stuck inside this electric serenity, I became an apostle of Counting Crows. "Round Here" wasn't the only song that I felt deeply related to me, but also "A Murder Of One"

I can remember being eight years old and having infinite possibilities. But life ends up being so much less that we thought it would be when we were kids, with relationships that are so empty and stupid and brutal. If you don't find a way to break the chain and change in some way, then you wind up, as the rhyme goes: a murder of one, for sorrow.

From the first time I heard the song, then heard him more and more urgently say "You don't waste your life, baby!" and "CHANGE, CHANGE, CHANGE!" kept making the tears come out stronger and stronger each higher pitch he made with his empathetic vocals. If God is my greatest hero and Mr. Ernewein my second, Counting Crows would be my third biggest hero. Adam Duritz is like a psychiatrist in a poets heart, his words don't only make you amazed, but also heal. In addition, he shares the same anguish and tears I did, so he's like my bigger brother. I would eventually get to pay homage to the band in 2000 and see the at the Fillmore Auditorium with Live, another band I have huge respect for, and Bettie Servert.

So the first phase of my transformation to the music was complete. Still, I had no clue what music was, why we need it, how it is born. But at least I knew there was something about music that made me feel good, and truly I didn't know what that was until I was 15 and met Mr. Ernewein, my hero.

If you ever wanted to have a joyous conversation about any kind of music, Mr. Ernewein is the guy to want to meet. He is also a hippy at heart: while many schools are sadly trying to take away music programs due to the lack of appropriate funding, he will always rise and see to it Denver Academy has their music program. In addition, he centers music along many of his lectures. He has his own tradition known as "Music Of The Week", where he would select an artist, play clips from their songs during class, and make connections between the artist to English, literature, math, and social science. He even let students contribute considerations for Music Of The Week (I got him fascinated with Counting Crows and went to the concert with him), just never give him boy band music, Britney Spears, or Linkin Park or he'll throw them out the window, LOL!)

It was Mr. Ernewein himself that got me agglutinated with the beautiful, capricious, and diverse world of music in its entirety. I got hooked on the Dave Matthews Band from the start, after he told me the real-life story of him meeting Dave in person in Richmond, Virginia. matchbox twenty and Goo-Goo Dolls became a favorite of mine, as did all of my dad's favorite artists. Bob Dylan, Lou Reed, and Led Zeppelin especially became high-rotation artists in my jukebox. I would bellow out lyrics in the shower, on my way home, and while running in cross-country territory. So much fun!

Mr. Ernewein convinced me that music is life. In fact, when I graduated as valedictorian of Denver Academy with a 3.98 grade-point average, I included the chorus lyric from Shakira's "Underneath Your Clothes" in my speech in a spiritual context, declaring to the whole assembly that we all have a story to tell deep down, and it has only begun. Headmaster Jim Loan shook my hnd in person and said my speech was his favorite speech he heard in his many years at the Academy, and that to me is a milestone of my life, not only because I became a highly successful student coming out of great adversity, but that to me was a titan leap from all the social isolation I experienced before. I got this far because I got my groove back, I found my melody, my metronome, to walk the walk and talk the talk to. I saw my mom crying from the stage, in tears of joy, and that made me cry too because all I wanted to do was make her happy and proud and I felt I accomplished that goal.

Aware of this metamorphosis I was in, this rock and roll revolution baptized upon my heart and spirit, I felt I must contribute too. And the one artist that encouraged me to do so was Shakira.

Shakira said, "I'm wondering, where did they all go? The leaders who used to talk about love, like Gandhi and Martin Luther King? The ones who would show us alternatives." That immediately made me think about all the other music out there, expressing deep anguish, sorrow, and faithlessness, and I already fell deeply in love with Shakira and her music from the first time I heard "Whenever, Wherever". That song made me smile...so much harmony and so much grace, and seeing her sexy music video only deeply touched me more, seeing her sway her hips on the beach, the desert sands, the mountains, pure spiritual seduction. I immediately purchased "Laundry Service" and off the first listen I knew "Underneath Your Clothes" would also be a big hit, and it did. "Que Me Quedes Tu" makes me cry every time I listen to it too. Her grace, her charisma, her loving spirit inspired me to start my own songwriting; to contribute my love to the world, and that is what I am doing as we speak. Writing feel-good songs that sound like they were co-written by God Himself, that make everyone smile, cry, hold each others hand, make people hug each other, and simply to believe and feel.

So when I was 18, I picked up my first guitar and have been hooked to it ever since. I spend many afternoons up on the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder strumming some covers and a few songs I wrote by improvization myself, using some of the earliest chords my guitar teacher taught me, or at the Glen Huntington Bandshell, a beautiful small amphi-theatre where the Colorado Shakespeare Festival hosts some performances every summer.

Aldous Huxley said "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." I believe that with all my heart, and I also believe expressing yourself in silence is not rewarding at all, so get yourself lost in the music. Get jiggy with Eminem, sing with me now, 1, 2, 3:

"You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo"

Yay, now you're pimpin' shrimpin! LOL!

"Look, if you had one shot to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment,
would you capture it or just let it slip?" Marshall Mathers certainly captured it. You never know if you'll succeed or fail unless you try, so get out there and rock on! And remember...

"Music doesn't lie.
If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music."

- Jimi Hendrix

Keep rocking the suburbs, set your guitars on fire, and pedal that whammy bar to the metal everyone!

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-07-2003 05:44 PM).]

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-10-2003 11:35 AM).]

----------Saturday, September 13, 2003-------

Once again, I just have to stress exactly how special Johnny Cash is, and though I cried hearing of his passing to diabetes Thursday evening, I truly know deep down with all my heart that Johnny was blessed to live a long and fruitful life, and also he wished to be reunited as soon as possible with his wife June and after half a year, I am happy that he got what he wished, and now Johnny's legacy will forever be secure. Amen.

Johnny Cash is one of my most respected artists. No matter what song he wrote, whether it was the days he performed at the Grand Ole Opry with Marty Robbins, Carl Perkins and Ray Price, performing hymns and spiritual songs, or the days he rode on trains through Kentucky and Arkansas, recounting tales of Old Doc Brown and cowboys and coal-mining towns, to his compassionate contributions to the Native Americans through Apache Tears, to his days recording with Don Law as he rode around in his Jeep throughout the West becoming acquainted with the natives, sleeping under mesquite bushes, meditating under manzanita trees and drinking from barrel cactuses to write about the West, to celebrating the beauty of family and laughter in "Everybody Is A Nut" and in his childrens record, to writing songs for his whole family, including his late brother Jack and daughter Cindy, to writing of the politics in America and flooding the masses with his honest convictions in "The Man In Black" and "America", to collaborating with so many legendary artists like George Jones, Bob Wills, Jimmy Rodgers, Gene Autrey, Christopher Wren, Waylon Jennings, Billy Graham, The Statler Brothers, Jack Clement, Hank Snow, Hank Williams, and his own love June...wow...he is a legend, that I don't think I can ever pay the most proper respect to. So many songs of worship and adventure are ones I wish I wrote, but nevertheless I am proud they came from his genuflecting spirit. He may be the Man In Black, and he will also always be a being of pure light.

Though I heard of Johnny Cash throughout most of the latter part of my childhood, it was Mr. Ernewein that began to get me into actually understanding and appreciating him. My family are not big country music listeners, though I have bought a handful of his albums and have a huge respect for Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, Tim McGraw, Garth Brooks, and the Dixie Chicks. I suppose I don't listen to county radio anymore because it has simply forsaken its traditional storytelling roots and converted more to a pop or adult contemporary format, which I do love occasional hits on Country radio but overall am not quite compelled to the modern country bandwagon. It could also be because country-radio programmers are very strict to what they play, and are highly conservative-leaning, which it used to be a lot more selective.

Talking about the classics makes me wish I, myself, could write like a legendary storyteller. Though I don't believe in critics and don't care about what they say as I find it essential to give everything a shot, whether it is in ones preference or not, and thus don't get picky about what I write and get hard on what other people write, I do wish I could start living a huge life of adventure and write like that. Some poets here have a naturally born gift at that, like Capt. Hair and Balladeer, I don't think I could have ever come up with the Konrad concept.

Then again, I remind myself I am 19, and have a life of promises before me, and already am immersing myself in the linchpin of poetic versatility. Johnny Cash's versatility inspired me to follow his lead, along with the many musical destinations Paul Simon, Sting, and Peter Gabriel made, so I decided, "OK, this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to make a huge play on words, and perform them like Jimi Hendrix to his guitar, Ludwig van Beethoven to his piano, Vincent Van Gogh to his colors, and to the grace of a belly dancer!" I want my poetry to be a cocktail of disparate flavors Baskin Robbins never picked up on, a May Pole that can stand twelve months a year, the saffron in a delicious plate of paella, with many visions and muses that contradict each other but also harmonize with each other. I want my words to break dance, lindy-hop, boogy-woogy, wango-tango. Guess I really am a big dork, but I'm proud to be an honorary dork. I actually consider "dork" a compliment, as despite the fact that they may get picked on, they are very sophisicated and cosmopolitan people. Like I mentioned before, many boys in elementary school called me "girlish", but I love living with my feminine side. At first, I was a little nervous, feeling like a cotquean when I started writing poetry and noticing no other boys my age doing so, then believing that it is important for men to let their emotions and tears flow, the confidence in writing poetry has since took precedent. Men who bottle up their emotions, to me, is one of the most saddening sights to see.

So how do I get all those inspirations, and how does my writing process work? I suppose the best advice is to go "hunting high and low". Sometimes I just write without taking my pen off the paper for ten, twenty, or thirty minutes, other times I write, tuck the piece away, and for days add on and edit the same piece, where plenty of pieces I've written remain tucked away and haven't been shared. Sometimes I take a trip to the Denver Art Museum, look at exhibitions and write inspirations using my spatial skills, sometimes I take some magazines from the dentist office, bring them home, grab a pair of scissors, snip many random images and words out, create a collage, and write a poem based on my aesthetic reaction in analyzing the details. Sometimes I walk down the streets, staring at the bumpers of automobiles parked in the residental district, copy the bumper sticker messages, and combine the messages together, or do the same thing with proverbs. They even come out of the things children say during recess, business slogans, anime cartoons, Discovery Channel, and cheesy sci-fi series from the 60's.

But most importantly, the golden rule of a writer is simply to keep reading. I make an effort to always have a good book queued with me. Currently, I am re-reading "The Odyssey" to pick up on the valuable themes. In fact, I am currently writing a drama satire of Homer's epic, where I fit each of the characters into fourth-grade children at recess. Odysseus (I call him Odie in my satire like the adorable sidekick pup of Garfield) attempts to win Penny's heart by overcoming the obsacles of bully's name-calling, tricks, and pranks, and stands up for his little brother's affection (Telemakhos in The Odyssey). Do you remember "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" That was a brilliant interpretation of "The Odyssey", gotta love Ulysses! Hey, does anyone know where I can find some of that Dapper Dan?

Reading is a valuable and essential part of life, and the real tool to becoming a great writer along with exploring, listening, and appreciating. So I encourage you children to be cool and stay in school, and for everyone else to, simply, read on. Let someones work be appreciated, and that favor will be returned surely.

I thank you all for being a huge motivation to my writing. With all your various styles and personas, you have shaped me into a jack-of-all-trades who now has a heart, a four-leaf clover optimism, and an ace up his sleeve. You (the proverbial you) are all a secondhand family to me, so come on in and let me give you all a big angel group hug! (gives angel group hug) Yay!

Write on, keep reading, plug those headphones on, and long live the man in black!

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-14-2003 04:39 AM).]

--------Tuesday, September 16, 2003---------

Sometimes some of my wonderful friends here at Passions have said how I comment so much and how my post numbers are so high they can't count that high. (giggles in delight) Yeppers, I certainly love being here everyday and enjoying the great poetry and communicating with my family here, as this to me truly feels like a second family.

But there is more beyond the story of how I became Mistletoe Angel here. When I first joined Passions, I usually commented to five-six poems before posting a poem, in contrast to 50-400 comments before a poem now. I have always found commenting to be important because I find it selfish for someone to come just to post their poetry without acknowledging how special others works are. I find if you comment to someone, you will be given the favor in return. That poet will see how special his or her material is and will usually only want to make you feel special in return. Unfortunately, many forums I have been to before Passions had many selfish poets, and in result many poems were left without a response. That made me feel bad so I commented all the way down 1/3 of the page of the entire forum, although I only got a minimal of the thanks in return.

As I mentioned on my first entry, I joined Passions on December 17, 2000. I made a usual effort to comment to a half-dozen poems or so before posting a new poem of my own. Unfortunately, unlike many debut posts by new poets here at Passions, my debut was rather silent. "Rainbow Dancer's Lullaby" and "Your Lips" were my first two posts, and neither one got over 6 comments. Then, after my debut, rarely did my poems ever get to 5 comments, and I had a massive streak of 1-2 comment poems, with a handful even getting zero. Back then, I was under the false impression that the more comments you get, the more special you are. I was truly saddened by that, wondering how the heck I could fit into the family like Sunshine, Seymour Tabin, Irish Rose, or Balladeer. I felt I was lacking something deep inside, yet I continued to try, being inspired by the many stories of those whos truggled so long but succeeded due to perserverance.

It took almost an entire year for me to breakthrough into Passions. Few times now and then, I wanted to leave but because I had nowhere else to go, I stayed.

Finally, there came the day I got noticed on Passions and I finally found friends reach out to me. That day was December 12, 2001.

Originally being a fond fan of some poet's poetry and leaving friendly and cute replies like I still do, I made a reply to a Christmas poem that some poet wrote. I put a whole bunch of Christmas graphics in it before Ron limited the use of graphics to five so the memory of the server can be stable, and I used the kiss on the cheek icon and I accidently put (kiss on lips) on there when I was thinking of Joanna at the time and meant to edit it but absent-mindedly forgot to. Then again, I keep thinking about that accident and say "Big deal!". It wasn't said out of an ulterior motive and in many countries people kiss each other on the lips as a sign of affection, not sexually or romanticly. Three hours after I had made the reply, that poet did thank-yous on the thread and left an inappropriate reply, saying in all-capitalized letters warning me "not to leave any more of that mushy crap on the poets poetry again or you'll get a black eye and you won't look so angelic anymore!" (wipes tears) I cried so much after reading that reply that I felt like a bad person and wanted to leave Passions forever and cried on and on, and I couldn't write anything for two days, then finally on December 14th, 2001, I wrote the poem "Trouble" which sparked a lot of comments, and everyone begging me not to go and telling me I am no trouble at all and the way that poet acted was wrong and inappropriate, when I questioned "Am I trouble to all of you?" You can see the poem here:
/pip/Forum52/HTML/002108.html

That day, with the overwhelming number of responses, I realized that I had many friends surrounding me, and just because my poetry never got many comments didn't mean they weren't reading me, and some moderator begged that poet to edit the reply. Poets like Bill Charles, Irish Rose (I miss her so much), Enchantress, Mysteria, and Kit McCallum reached out to me and sent me heartfelt e-mails and E-cards. Some poets even went back and commented to some of my earlier threads as a sign, and then I knew I was no fool, and that that person could have e-mailed me in private and politely asked me to write more mature comments and because that one decided to harass me that person was the one who wronged. God teaches forgiveness, and I forgive this person with all my heart, for the poet only helped me grow and develop, but because of the fact that the poet didn't do her part in apologizing, I have never replied to this person's  poetry ever since, and will have nothing to do with her until this person makes her half of the forgiving bargain.

There is that popular proverb "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger!". Truly, it is because of this person in a big way that I have identified my wonderful second family here. Sometime after that, another poet also wrote a nasty comment in response to a friendly reply I made to a poem on March 5, 2002. Later by e-mail I was told not to reply whatsoever in addition to other derogatory comments. I didn't even want to, for I believe in God's notion of turning the other cheek and wishing that person well. I forgive this person too, although, just like the former person I mentioned, I choose not to ever support the person's poetry unless that person apologizes. The comment made me sad but didn't affect me at all and only made me more determined to stay at Passions.

It was because of perserverance that I have blossomed at Passions, and I am more happier than ever. And I guess the lesson here for all of you reading this is not to continue to feel sorry for me, or not to reply to those two's poems just because they broke my heart, as they too are special, but that there will always be some people along the way that may push you around or not quite understand you, but if you continue to follow your heart and believe in yourself, you will succeed and all will be forgiven and with the power of forgiveness over those who can push you around, it only feels so much more better!

Every one of you are special, and I want you, yourself, to always know that! (big angel hugs for all) God Bless You and have a beautiful sun-shining day!



Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-17-2003 10:10 PM).]

Noah I love reading you. You've come through so much m friend, I am proud to know someone like you. You have so much uplifting spirit!

Linda, My mother and I are much the same, once without realising, we were staying on an old world war site, where casualties were taken, a site which was bombed many times. my mum had flashback type experiences that made her feel incredibly upset and anxious, and I kept having the same nightmares at the scene of burning and people calling my name for help, who were seriously injured. my friend who was next to me said i was talking in my sleep, telling people not to die, to hold on. We found out a couple of years ago, the history of where we had stayed, and then it all made sense!And you do readings? I'm thinking of going for one soon, do you reccomend them? it really fascinates me.

~I wanna live, I wanna give, I've been a miner for a heart of gold~  Neil Young

***********Tuesday, September 30, 2003**********

Just thought I’d elaborate on my ramblings on college existence and the beauty of Boulder.

Outside of the severity of academics wrapped in a irreconcilable steel core curriculum, it’s not as bad. Though I wouldn’t ever be caught dead in a fraternity or cult, University of Colorado is quite a liberal college, and though I do not consider myself either left or right minded, Republican or Democrat, I would lean more as a liberal-independent definitely.

I have marched in many anti-war rallies on the UNC. I have joined in organizations to help kick George W. Bush out of office in 2004 because in my opinion he is among the worst presidents this nation has ever had because of his lies and thirst for war. I have signed petitions with Amnesty International to stop giving money to the Colombian military instead of the citizens, who use the money for warfare to kill all the poor families who grow drugs crops just to get the money to help their children and loved ones, and to save rainforests and prevent “W” from wreaking havoc on our national parks for oil. I have marched in pro-choice rallies (I won’t share my strong opinions here as abortion is a sensitive topic), I have worked to save prairie dogs from genocide, and I have contributed a lot to Greenpeace.

The fact is, I have a rebellious spirit, and I have been highly opinionated since early in my adolescent years. I just had to make this clear because it honestly troubles me when some poets here and everywhere say after I write a deeply politically-minded piece after writing a whole bunch of comforting and lovely pieces that this doesn’t sound like me at all and if I have changed. Those kind of comments truly do make me cry sometimes, making it seem like I am some kind of hypocrite or phony, and I have to say I find those kind of comments ignorant. I love all my Passions friends and I truly take you all as my friends and write cute and comely replies always because I believe in loving everyone, everyday unconditionally like Mr. Rogers taught me as a child. But sadly many are exploiting peoples freedoms and killing innocent animals and Mother Nature and I have no choice but to be a lover and a fighter, fighting without guns, fighting without swords, fighting without any weapon but my voice and my pen. We are all unique, so every one of you reading this, I guarantee, will disagree with me on at least one thing I’ve said, and don’t pretend you agree with me on all I have to say, for that is exactly what is wrong with our world today. Less than half of America participates in elections, less than half read their local newspaper each day, and because of this lack of commitment, we are accelerating into one, cold, sullen, acrimonious oligarchy. Why do you think the newspaper constantly reads that poisonous metonymy “The U.S believes…”? Uh huh! (winks) Therefore, it is my obligation to have to get physical with these issues and I certainly hope you are too, while also never taking for granted the simple beauties of the world. You don’t have to throw any punches, you don’t have to take any prisoners, just be both a lover and a fighter with your heart and voice.

This is what I enjoy about college. It is a melting pot of shared values, ideals, and knowledge, and everyday there’s something being said beyond class. Yesterday, right across of Hellems Arts and Sciences near the Hill, they had a huge Pro-Choice seminar, which I attended, heard the speakers, and got a Pro-Choice sticker and button. I only wish the courses could be equally as adventuresome.

Anyway, on a more upbeat note, I’ve been walking around Boulder this week with my Polaroid camera taking pictures of all the beautiful scenery along Boulder Creek and down to the Pearl Street Mall and west to Chautauqua Park. If you haven’t been to Boulder, I strongly recommend you visit sometime, as it is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve seen in the world so far in my life, along with Dingle in Ireland, San Diego, Portland, and Eugene.

Did you know that Boulder is commonly called the “Athens of the West”? Boulder has a rich and colorful history that goes back well as early as 1858, when prospectors from the mountains put up tents at Red Rocks just out of Boulder Canyon and Arapahoe Indians were nearby and were invited to feast with them after they hunted an ox. In fact, one tribe member was told he had a dream a great flood washed away the Native Indians but avoided the prospectors, a harbinger that the prospectors would stay. They found gold flakes in the mouth of the canyon, but when a cold winter came and complicated their plan to gather all the gold in one piece, Alfred A. Brookfield decided to set up a town there and became the city’s first president. Prospectors started gathering, making farms and raising livestock, and before Colorado was no longer part of the Nebraska Territory, the first building of what is now the University of Colorado was founded, now called Old Main. Then when railroads were built, tourism became a massive industry in Boulder, and many people started coming out just to see the mountains and for health, and then Boulder (which is the health food capital of the U.S) built the Sanitarium, where they have a spa, health food market, and country club. Then shortly after, the famous Chautauqua Park was commenced, a beautiful natural park, dining hall and auditorium where you can either just enjoy a nice serene and peaceful stroll through the park, or see silent movies or magicians or bird-watch.

Do you drink Celestial Seasonings tea? Celestial Seasonings was founded in Boulder too! The moment Boulder became considered a beautiful city and not just a tourist hotspot anymore, Boulder was always called the “Athens of the West” and they decided to further the true quality of the title, Boulder would undergo a huge architectural project, with so many buildings built from marble, the Carnegie Library being built as a replica of a Greek temple, banning saloons, and planting trees and bushes and gardens everywhere to make the entire city feel pleasant. With the Boulder Creek running through the middle of the town, you can spend a whole day walking through the city enjoying the beauty of nature all around you!

One place I especially love to spend much time at is the Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse. It was designed by over 40 Tajik artists to mirror the cultural beauty of Dushanbe, Tajikistan. That is my dream place to perform my music live to the public. The Boulder Theatre and the Glen Huntington Bandshell would be gorgeous places too to play.

Whenever I want to unwind after a long day in Boulder, I always go down to Chautauqua Park or the Pearl Street Mall. The Pearl Street Mall is no ordinary mall at all, in fact it is one of a kind. Despite Gap, Banana Republic, and Abercrombie & Finch crawling their fingers into the market, overall the stores are all original and independent businesses. I love having lunch many days at BD’s Mongolian Grill. Have you ever been to a Mongolian grill? If not (whether you eat meat or not) you must give into this experience! First, you select all the delicious veggies, meats, and pasta you want in a buffet style just like you do at Country Buffet or during your matutinal continental breakfast run, then you pick out of a selection of many different sauces and oils, from black bean to honey hoison to (my favorite) Mojo, a Caribbean sweet and tangy sauce. Finally, you hand your bowl to a chef and they put your cuisine on this giant griddle, using this giant metal sticks to cook the food to absolute perfection, soaking the flavor into all the food and making the meat (if you choose to have it) cooked just right. If you haven’t tried it, you don’t know what you’re missing!

The Pearl Street Mall also has a lot of outdoor entertainment all along the alluring streets. I remember a few years ago visiting Boulder once a week and watching Kenneth Lightfoot, a friendly entertainer from South Africa with his trusty green lovebird on his shoulder, throwing playing cards from the sidewalk up onto the rooftop of a business on the corner of 14th and Pearl and making it every time, even on a windy day. They always have guitarists out there on the benches too, which I happily contribute a dollar to their guitar cases every time I hear beauty. Hey, maybe I should go out there and do that, I could make money to contribute to more environmental groups!

Often I just love heading down to the Crystal Dragon or the Indigo Rose to pick up incense and hear Arabian and Tibetan music, or just step into the art galleries, look at all the paintings, and get inspirations for new poems (a good number of my poems are inspired by art). If the world is my oyster shell, I think I have found the pearl here!

Yep, the place to live here for me is Boulder, the “Gateway to the Glaciers”, the “Athens of the West”. It is my everyday holiday, it is my whistle stop, it is my hamlet, it is my locus, it is my goldmine, it is my élan vital. I’d take a Fair Winds hot air balloon ride over the city everyday if I could. But, I have a journey to complete, a dream to fulfill, and the world is my neighborhood so I gave many more neighbors in many more blocks to visit and have chamomile tea with!

Some Japanese proverb I value dearly says, “Time spent laughing is time spent with the gods” So go out there and find your laughing place!

“Everybody's got a laughing place
A laughing place to go
Take a frown, turn it upside down
And you'll find yours we know”

If honey fun is what we bring, boy are we in luck! (does happy dance down the primrose path)

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (09-30-2003 05:09 PM).]

-----------Monday, October 27, 2003----------

Seeing Twenty-Twenty

Well, here I go, entering the final hours of my teens. Yet I feel just fine, and nothing feels strange to me. As Pablo Picasso said, "It takes a long time to grow young". I'm really believing this, as though we are forever young, I think it takes us a long time to realize that. And I feel much younger than I've ever been, as I could never set myself free as a child outside my grandparent's homestead, where I could dream with the daffodils and head over to Clarence's farm and see the llamas and horses. I feel I am capable of so much now. I feel as I continue to expand my guitar skills, I can get to go on the road in the near future and see all the rest of this country I love so much. I can sing rock and roll and submit lyrics to Nashville for country superstars to sing. I can sing kyries now and remember all the words to some of the selections. I can see a still-frame of any moment and write poetry, which I couldn't do when I was younger. I can walk the streets of Boulder or Denver and identify each corner, yet the people I see inspire something different each day. I can follow my dreams now that my roots are sturdy and my wings spanned out twelve feet outward. Guess before I was caved in this Kulturkampf, trying to find every little meaning of my life, trying to understand the golden rules while living them on my own. I always had this yearning but my diction was malapropian and my tone lacked fervor. All I needed was that one-way ticket, that passe partout to get access to the tollway, but I had nothing but insufficient funds through and through. Not any more, this Merry Prankster cowboy has a new road to go travellin' down!

Reminds me of another quote by Rudyard Kipling, "Youth had been a habit of hers for so long that she could not part with it." I only hope the rest of you are also holding true to that boy or girl in your heart, for youth only comes once in a lifetime, and even when a life may seem long, you don't want to take a minute of it for granted. If you ever heard George Strait's "Living and Living Well", you should know what I mean! I do believe I have taken some of my boyhood for granted, simply for not having the confidence to stand up and confront my fears from all the abuse and torment I've endured, and I vow to never let this happen to me again. If someone pushes me in front of a chain-link fence and wants to hurt my harmless body, I will stomp on that person's foot and run away. I will forgive everyone who hurt me in my first twenty years, and give angel hugs to all who gave me a smile. After all, I am the Mistletoe Angel and I believe Christmas is everyday in my world, and just want to give and share all I have to share. I believe a birthday is nothing but a number, but it is also an indicator, and I believe it is important each year to check the progress you made in the last year and where you intend to be going! Make the world your playground and see how many more warm gestures and smiles you'll identify! I think one of my favorite quotes that sums this all up is from Lucille Ball (who doesn't love Lucy? ) who said, "The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age." And no, I won't lie about my age, but I will pretend I'm younger!

I'm not one bit worried about growing up, all I ask is for every one of you here to see the angel boy smile in me as I grow each year! Linda, our Earth Angel you always make me smile when you call me "Angel Boy" because angels are grown-up while boys are children, and I truly believe I am a young man with the spirit of the boy in my heart! Keeping score, running the commentary play-by-play, being both the coach, the referee, and the star throwing those Hail Marys, in each shot I hope to see that caption in my friends minds! Nothing makes me feel happier and proud of myself than that! To see that playbill on every movie theatre wall, and while my name is there, there rests illustrated that youthful smile on my face!

I've got my tan lines, my Murphy bed atmosphere, my acoustic guitar, my Bob Ross T-shirt, my hippy-cowboy haircut, my Teva sandals so I can stick my toes out and feel the wind and green grass, my voice, my headset, and a whole lot of Polaroid memories of friends and places I've seen along the way. That's all I think I could ever ask for...well...except maybe for a hand! But I'm not going to worry, for I believe now the best things come to those who dream and have patience! We're constantly under new management within, but it's the same atmosphere!

Hey, by the way, have y'all seen "School of Rock"? I was dying to put up the review three weeks ago until the boards were temporarily down, but I have to say it has become my favorite movie in the last five years...literally! Man, I wish I was in that movie, it is so anthemic to me. That's exactly how I want to live, holding that guitar, swinging it about, loosey-goosey just like Jack Black says. (pledges allegiance to the band) If y'all like "The Bad News Bears", "Mr. Hollands Opus" or "Dead Poets Society", I guarantee you will fall in love with "School of Rock". It's the best family movie I've seen this year, with "Finding Nemo" also a great one. The movie has a little of a formula to it, but there are so many suprises that make it an accidental classic!

"And if you wanna be the teacher's pet,
Well baby you just better forget,
Rock got no reason,
Rock got no rhyme,
You better get me to school on time.

This is my final exam,
Now ya'll know who I am,
I might not be their perfect son,
But ya'll be rockin' when I'm done."

Rock and roll will always be in one half of my heart, country in the other. This is what I want to devote the rest of my years to, however more I may have left under Gods plan, and I'll be lovin' every second of it. Okay, maybe not the papparazzi, but you get the main idea!

So, twentieth birthday, I'm ready, ready to embrace the great wide open! As God is my witness, may these days bring me more blessings than I am predicting! Onward, my legions of hopes!

And thank you all so much for being my friends that have stood up and believed me up to this day. I'm proud to announce that our Earth Angel has set a new record for an earliest birthday greeting to me, by sending me a beautiful card six days before my birthday! Let me just say that whether you give me a birthday greeting six days before my birthday or six days after my birthday, I am always just as happy. Belated birthday greetings never hurt me one bit, for just knowing someone cares and thinks of me makes me feel warm inside like a Care Bear on a spring picnic! God Bless You All!

Remember these wise words of Franz Kafka: "Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty.
Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old." Keep spreading your light to the world and let live, yay!

(hands complimentary piece of cake just for you)

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (10-27-2003 11:02 PM).]

**********Sunday, November 2, 2003***********

Come On Down, Y'All!

Hola! I hope you all had a wonderful, spooktacular All-Hallows-Eve! Though I didn't do much, I do believe no one can ever get too old to embrace the holiday spirit. Though I didn't go trick-or-treating, I did dress up and spooked the children that came to the door and made sure they got their sugar buzz! And thank you all soooooooooooo much for your wonderful birthday wishes! It was so creative for some of you to put up all those lovely Shakira pictures for me, you know how much I love and admire her, not just because she's so beautiful and one wonderful songwriter and singer but also because she is a beautiful, giving person who devotes her heart to the children and to her war-devastated nation of Colombia and beyond. In fact, just a week ago on October 24th, she became the youngest person ever to become a goodwill ambassador for UNICEF. Until she releases her next album in August of 2004, she is going to help improve education to children in South Asia, Latin America, and parts of Africa. And I must admit that UNICEF is the organization I'd love to represent more than any other organization in the world. Children are our future, and no child should be denied of his or her needs. They must be educated so they can understand what they can do for our world and for other children, they need to be told the truth so they don't become deceived, and most importantly, they need to be loved so they can promote love to the world. THAT is a big reason besides her wonderful songwriting why Shakira is my favorite artist, and other favorite artists of mine like Bono and Neil Young and Johnny Cash as well. So thank you for those beautiful pictures of her, along with all the wonderful compliments and wishes for me! I personally printed out each of your responses to cherish them forever! Pray that someday I'll get to represent UNICEF also, as while I believe I am making a difference, I could do so much more and just need that small boost into mainstream. And God will be my advisor all the time.

While we are partially on the topic of God, have you seen that new CBS program "Joan of Arcadia"? If you haven't seen it yet, set your controls for the heart of CBS Fridays at 7:00 (maybe 8:00 Central). It is about an Arcadia, California teenager, Joan Girardi, who, like Joan of Arc, is a close listener to God, and God, who in each episode appears in the form of many different people, gives her missions and directives, each with its own cryptic purpose. It's kind of like "Quantum Leap" visits "The OC" I guess! Meanwhile, her father Will Girardi, (Joe Mantegna, who plays Fat Tony on The Simpsons)who works as a police chief in Arcadia, works to make the community a safe place for everyone, and while experiencing the ups and downs with his family takes up many difficult cases due to heavy crime in the region. Joan's mother Helen (played by the wonderful actress Mary Steenburgen) her science-loving brother Luke, and her handicapped brother Kevin also add depth, humor, and drama to the family and each story. And if you haven't gotten to experience the greatness of Barbara Hall yet, this is your chance! Barbara Hall, the writer and creator of this show, truly is a wonderful role model for women that I admire so much, like Xena: Warrior Princess without the chrome-plated armor, just those traditional clothes. She believes in so many of the same things I do it's scary, like I'm compelled to say, "Stop agreeing with me on everything please!" LOL! So far, Joan has been told to take a highly-advanced chemistry class she doesn't like so she can get acquainted with a boyfriend, made her put up a yard sale so she can discover the painful past of her mother's life indirectly, and...on the last episode...made her take up cheerleading so she can discover the fateful crime of a student leaving a baby in a dumpster and helping to resolve the situation. So hop on that bandwagon now, this is definitely my favorite drama since Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Monk is also a decent program!

Speaking of good ol' television, it saddened me to hear that Rod Roddy died. You remember our ol' buddy Rod, don't you? (begins retrospective spell) Shoo-da-loo, shoo-da-loo, shoo-da-loo...



He was truly the best announcer there ever was. Whenever I'm not in school, I never miss a single episode of The Price Is Right, seeing Bob Barker and his enthusiastic spirit, enjoying every epic spin of the Big Wheel and the line between triumph and the agony of defeat on the Showcase, Rod Roddy and all his glittery sportscoats, all those high--spirited fans with flamboyant grins and signature happy dances with their own Bob Barker T-shirts on, I can't imagine a better mid-day viewing than this, well, maybe re-runs of "Joy of Painting". There will never be anyone who can jovially outcry, "Come on down!" like him. He is the father of that catchphrase, no one can ever beat him there, nada nada zip. So often I say to myself I wish I had his voice, so then I could just get everyone's attention. But I will not deny my voice, as it is God-given abd everyone's voice is special. I do admit I envy his incredible voice though, hehehe! Aw, come on Rod, tell me, how do you do it! LOL!

Recently I believe I have determined my main direction I desire to follow in my music career. I have always been fascinated with 80's rock in general. Many believe that the 80's was cheesy but I believe it was just fun and feel-good. I personally can't think of a band more fun than The B 52's. Their Malibu-surf guitar style is the kind I really want to use in the basis of many of my songs, along with The Cure and David Bowie inspired crunches. I believe music should be harmonious and make you feel-good, not a constant torch-song that sadly so much of modern radio is, umbraged by numbers about lost love, inner-demons, violence, and debauchery. And even when I believe everyone has the right to write sad songs, as I certainly have a few of my own, the music just isn't there enough. And I hope I can achieve some level of recognition for my nostalgic sound and bring smiles to many young faces with fresh, vibrant music. It's time that rock lobster owns the beach again and we're not ashamed to slip on that eye-shadow!

Finally, I'd just like to say how happy I am seeing Julie following my idea and setting up her own journal here on pipTalk Lounge. To know you is to love you and I was hoping others would follow my lead as I love to get to know all about you wonderful friends of mine here! Don't be shy, come on down! (clears dry throat) Ooops, once again that didn't come out right, by God, how the heck does Roddy do that? What I'd give to come up with such an interjection! Back to the drawing boards I go with my dunce hat on, hehehe!

(This has been a presentation of Channel 777, independently owned for those sick of watching Channel Z expand across the universe. Channel 777: Where Heavens Know No Limits.)

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (11-03-2003 03:20 AM).]

**********Saturday, November 8, 2003*********

Reserved Seating At Andromeda

My oh my, I'm nearing three entire years as part of this Passions family. I have gotten to know a handful of you wonderful friends here, and this remarkable family continues to grow and grow. (Better expand the theatre upon the south side just a bit, we need more stadium seating!)

I have accomplished much within these three years here. I have gotten to know some true friends, and have also identified some critics of my personality and poetry. I have a huge list of friends here I always love commenting to their poems, and a small list of those I decide never to comment to again for personal reasons. I have stressed my versatility out and have explored various poetic realms, some which received better than others. And each year I get to appreciate the mission statement Ron has bestowed here more clearer than ever.

Nevertheless, I feel I am facing a new challenge that has placed pressure upon my shoulders. Though I do have readers, I feel I am struggling to find an "audience". A few of you (you know who you are) always love reading and replying to my work, but all at once, I sometimes feel there are some cliques within this poetic family in which none of them I fit quite in. I'm not strictly tied to storytelling, nor human emotions in general. I'm kind of off-the-wall, and I feel though my creative ability is at a high, my audience is a bit quiet recently. Somehow, I'll be honest with you, this does upset me, as despite making 200 or more comments a week many weeks, with over 28,000 posts and about 93% of them comments to others, I honestly feel I am not being returned the favor as much as I'd like. I don't even overpost, I don't post more than one poem a day almost every day, sometimes even post only one poe every three days or more, and you'd figure spacing your posts would bring in a lot of attention. Unfortunately, it hasn't really paid off for me either. And I don't want to sound a bit harsh at all, but some poets who rarely reply often get as many or more replies as me also (you know who you are also)! Guess I am whining a bit here.

This often makes me feel if I should take a hiatus from poetry for a limited time and come back refreshed hoping I can be read. Then again, I am not a quitter and believe I just have to keep searching myself and discover the formula. I must desquamate, shed that skin until I discover my finest voice that can enthrall an audience in, as I guess I seem disheveled to a lot of readers here, that I just don't fall into their cliques and have nothing to give or offer them. And it can be frustrating especially because I have no friends to talk to right now outside this place, as I've been on my own for over a year now and Denver Academy is quite a ways away from Boulder to commute and visit. Think of me as the latchkey child in an average family, like Duey on Malcolm In the Middle. I'm Pleistocene among a Holocene type of time. I walk like a well-rounded one but I follow a heptagon theory, where I'm rough and mysterious on one edge. Many constantly consider me a mysterious one and while I want to offer goody-bags of treats for all my friends, I also want to stand out in the foreground somehow. That's what I'm hoping to achieve through this new year at Passions and through my music and social commentary. If I can see those reserved seats continue to be filled with some others present around them, that'd be my victory signal.



Hey, y'all saw the eclipse tonight, right? Sometimes I hear others say "Big deal, it's not like I've never seen an eclipse before!" But truly, I have always been fascinated by the eclipses as I truly think there is an inexplicable providence depicted in each cycle of the moon and the sun. If you look back on history, it proves mankind has long been bewitched, smitten, prepossessed, tickled pink by this phenomenon. In fact, perhaps as early as October 22, 2134 B.C in ancient China, there are possible records of these cycles being registered in their memories. Hsi and Ho were hoping to predict the event and despite failing, they caught glimpse of this first possible record of the cycle and is written in an ancient document titled the Shu Ching. They even believe the eclipse was caused because of a dragon swallowing the sun, and to chase it away, the Chinese made commotion to try to scare it away and bring back daylight. Even in 585 B.C, a single eclipse changed the outcome of what would have been a bloody war between the Lydians and the Medes. When the eclipse suddenly occured, they called a truce and then made a peace agreement.

Even the Bible notes a significant eclipse. In 763 B.C, in Amos 8:9, it is said by God "And on that day, I will make the Sun go down at noon, and darken the Earth in broad daylight'." In fact, they say the Assyrians studied eclipses and much of the Bible's organization and time it was written is all thanks to eclipse timeline science.

All of this just convinces me more and more that I believe eclipses are more than just special-effects in the skies that Hollywood would kill to copyright. What if it all means something so much more? Being of much Cherokee blood, I value many myths, including "The Moon and the Thunders", where the sun is depicted as a young woman of the East and the moon a brother to her from the West, who the Sun had a lover but couldn't see his face and one day decided to speckle him with dust and upon a next visit discovered her love was the Moon, her brother, and embarrassed, the Moon makes himself thin and that is when the eclipse happens. Finally, I just have to say it is open to so much interpretation, but to me it is a message, a sign that can be preconceived so many ways, a chamber door opened from the heavens briefly. Either I just made you think or you think I'm just a big daydreaming dork, and that's OK too!



The truth is out there, and I'll believe it to the limit Mulder! God Bless You All, sweet dreams, and keep looking to the skies! To infinity and beyond...and then some!

"As long as the sun
shines one does not
ask for the moon."

Russian Proverb





Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (11-09-2003 03:14 AM).]

*********Saturday, November 15, 2003*********

Exhuming Rand McNally

I do declare...I'm as happy as a wound-up eight-day egg timer. A week from today I'm headin' out again on another cross-country escapade to good ol' Cape Giradeau, Missouri! You remember when I talked about this good ol' place, right? So for just a week Captain Archipalego is on vacation here in the next best place to Margheritaville, but fear not, as I'll be coming back with a barage of new footage, live from the backseat of the green Dodge mini-van within the next seven days, and keep an eye out...a suprise guest feature may pop in unexpectedly to greet you live from my journal from the co-pilot's chair. Who said you can't have guest appearences in a journal? Everyone has a story to tell, this is my biography, and surely there are many who love me who have something to say also. I like to think of this journal as an Inside The Actor's Studio meets Decameron. Encouraging us all that we are all our own celebrity, for all those out there who vicariously live like James Lipton, getting to imagine having conversations with the Hollywood favorites, that we are all made of stars and the world is a stage with life the theatre. So come on down and drop me a line, throw a rose on the stage, boo, whatever you want. It's all fair game!

Time and time again I have re-designed my intuition and pictured myself as a celebrity. As far back as I can remember, as young as six, I loved drawing comics all over padded paper, inspired by old Sega Genesis videogames I used to play: Phantasy Star II, Turrican, Sonic the Hedgehog, James Pond, games like that! I was addicted to videogames back then, and still get around to playing the Sony Playstation every once in a while with my mom's best friends' son Ryan (I'll tell you more about him and these comics in future journal entries!). And after writing a bunch of comics I still keep and many goofy short-stories throughout my rough elementary school years, I developed a deep love for making home movies. In fact, I have nine Sony 8 MP Standard Grade cassettes full of my own original material.

Let me talk to you about one particular show I made, which is also my favorite. Back when I was a freshman at Denver Academy, a year before I made my poetic debut, I had Mr. Ernewein (my hero) as a teacher, but it wsn't in English, it was in algebra. We did one particular project on measuring width and height, and built model staircases from different materials in determining height and width to make them sturdy and stable. I created mine from styrofoam blocks, rainbow popsicle sticks, metal hinges and crazy super glue. I was playing around with this board game called Mutant Chronicles: Siege of the Citadel, playing with the figurines like action figures, and then thought looking at the staircase in its completed state: "Hey, this would make the perfect prop for a home movie action series!". (picture of game box can be found below)
http://www.boardgamegeek.com/viewboardgameimage.php3?id=16784&title=pic1041278718jpg    

This day was March 21, 1999. I took some figurines from the box, two of them being the blue ninja and commander on the box, and gave them new names. I thought of a name for this new show, then it came to my mind: "Justice Offbeats". It was a squad of four warriors: Yocemento the blue ninja, who lost one of his arms in a battle against the Dark Legion, Phat Fatty, the red commando with a playful attitude and his plasma cannon, Adrenaline Man and his grave character, and The Forgotten Soldier, who is often taken for granted because of his social anxiety yet a wise soldier. Then, I took one of the evil Nepharites and, thinking of Austin Powers, named him Immoral Man (God, I'm such a dork, LOL!)

Then I gathered up all his Nepharite troops and monsters, and made them Immoral Man's henchmen, then took two spare styrofoam blocks, drew them faces and costumes, placed rainbow popsicle sticks on them as arms and ski-legs, and made them his bodyguards Styrofoam Sam and Styrofoam Cedrick. The plot of this fabulous pilot: the Justice Offbeats are rebelling against the Evil Empire before the flag is lowered and Immoral Man becomes emperor to bring wrath upon the citizens of Megalopoville. So the action is on! Only I don't believe in violence so I kept it tame and simply made it like some kind of Mel Brooks comedy, spoofing other action series like Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and anime.

I got addicted to movie-making and kept creating new characters. In the second episode, I created my own labyrinth called Craytown, an amusement park ran by a Atchafalaya cajun native whose DNA was altered from leeches and became Mandrill, wearing his Lazarus Cape and the Crown of Cyrus, who challenges the heroes into escaping the labyrinth alive. In the third, Logan Log was created, an Aussie barker who attempts to ambush them in the Great Beyond which I filmed down in the greenway next to my house, and introduced Yojimbo, a tough-talking soldier presumed lost in combat but escaped alive who assists them and introduces them to the Tsunami Squad, a trio of renegade factions rebelling against the Evil Empire. Then I made Frigid Fred, an Irish gnome who was crygonically frozen in a snow globe and can create snow, Tinkertoy Troy, Mr. Mafia, Oberuce (the master of time and space, used an N. Tropy action figure) Kumo Lissente, Professor and Mini Harmful, and many other characters to bring balance to the stories.

Eventually, I even began to make episodes that were an hour long, and got my cousins, siblings, and neighbors to do voices for the characters. When I went out to see my cousins in Romeoville, Illinois that summer, my cousins Nick and Zackery had heard about my show and were begging to make a movie with me. So I said, "Let me look through your toy box!" and with all my characters present and my trusty camcorder, Zackery had a treasure trove of characters. Then I decided "Hey, let's create a new clan, and let's say desperately, Immoral Man is trying to trick them into being his allies and crushing the Justice Offbeats." There, The Lilans were born, with the leader being Burkoko, a man with mountain sheep horns coming out of his head riding his gallant white sterling. So, mixing all these new characters, comedy, and adventure, it became a tradition we watch every summer together! That was also the summer I revolutionized the usage of "snickerpuss", LOL! Later, I even begged Mr. Ernewein to become a character in an episode, and then, I made him the mayor of Megalopoville, Philippe McPherson, who is absent-minded in his job but loyal to the services of the good side in stopping a hunter named Marmot. That was absolutely hilarious! I got a friend of mine from Denver Academy named Weston Wells to provide his voice for Marmot.

So, as you can see, I am both a geek and a movie-lover! I even made a bunch of other small skits, like Billy the Boxelder, the Fattissues, HCN, Miniature Marvels: The Adventures of Colonel J. Onslaught, There's One In Every Family, and much more. There will be more on this another time, and in fact, I am considering making another episode of the Justice Offbeats in the very near future. Maybe eventually I can leak the tapes mainstream and you can behold the incredible epics...kind of.

But most recently, my latest film project has been live this whole time, filmed from my eyes. Getting to see me through my poetry and journal and my many misadventures take place, exhuming Rand McNally and following him on a wild goose chase that never ends across the heart of the heartland. Solubility is not necessary every moment of the way, as nonsense is beauty all by itself and some adventures truly just are for amusement. Projecting straight from my eyes, my ears, my heart, my mind, my subconscious, and featuring cameos from my family, my relatives, my friends, and guests like Clarence the farmer and Texaco Star-Mart check-out employees, you can see everything I see through sepia-tone, sans alka-seltzer precience and Benadryl head trips. Only one is worthy of being praised on these here adventures.....Ricola.........Ricola! Hey, where's my Swiss yodeling horn, how else can I pay homage? Perhaps wear a skirt?

Yep, I have no digital camera and am an amateur at getting pictures on the Internet from my scanner, but once this young grasshopper masters the art of photography publication, I'll add a complementary thread featuring photos from the road. Until then, try to picture my intense imagery and then run the images through your mind like triptychs from top to bottom really fast as if it was a negative film of a cartoon, or looking through a Fisher Price 3D View-Master, with each moment a whole different Reel Card you could slip right in. God Bless William Gruber, he's a true genius. Among all those children's classics out there, the View-Master will never grow obsolete as the films just keep coming! Crreeaaaakkkk...TWANG!!! Slide 1: Oh, lookey, there's me with a pecan log from Stuckeys! Crrreeeaaaakkkkkk...TWANG!!! Slide 2: Hehehe, check out this ladybug that landed on my wrist, bless that good luck! Here, you take it from here!

Well, during the Thanksgiving holiday, I'll keep dotting the i's and lower-case j's and crossing the t's and you can count on a lot more heartland songs comin' your way! As for now, I could use a sitz bath! Y'all take care now, time to chase down Rand McNally across the Mother Road!

This Just In: Rand McNally was spotted talkin' with John Deere. Oh no, you ain't gettin' away that easy, no sir!

Just keepin' it Reel, y'all!



Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (11-16-2003 02:44 AM).]

Cold hands means a warm heart

Cold hands means a warm heart

*********Wednesday, November 26, 2003********

Crikey! The Wog Got Me, Mate!

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say, mate! Why ain't I at the Back of Bourke? Well, mate, sometimes nature can be cruel to us all, but that's just nature's way and I ain't whinging. Last Friday afternoon on the RTD B-Line ride from Boulder to the Westminster Center where I depart from via the University of Colorado, it was rush hour and the bus was getting crowded. Sometimes I get lucky and get to save a whole aisle to myself, but a nice ol' bloke politely asked me for a seat and I let him sit next to me. Sadly, throughout the 40 minute ride, he had a bad wog and was coughin' like crazy. And when you're sittin' next to the window, surrounded by a wall and the disease, mate, it is absolutely certain the wog will wrassle ya up. It sounded like he could have chundered and as much as I wanted to get out, I'm not that kind of bloke who says, "Hey, can you please stop coughing?". That's not very sportsmanlike, mate, so I conceded defeat! And I have to be honest with you, this is the first time I've gotten the woozies in over six years! The last time is when I had a case of pink eye when I was thirteen, and had to wear a patch over my right eye for three days! That was much worse compared to this itty bitty invador! Saturday I had a bit of that headache and dry throat, Sunday brought a bit of weakness of balance, the third day Monday was my toughest day with a semi-full package of typical cold symptoms, and yesterday all I was left with was some mucas in my throat! I'm at 99% effiencey today, mate, woooooooooo!

No worries, though! We had our little adventure post-poned to December 28th! And I won't have to worry about going on busses at all after the 15th when I complete my final exam! Wooooooooo! Then we'll really be headin' out beyond the Black Stump! However, I did have a whole other adventure, right here in my own home! Bedridden adventures! If I filled out a Nielsen card, it would look somethin' like this!

**********SATURDAY**********

(A marathon of Animal Planet videos followed by Trading Spaces)

**********SUNDAY************

Noon: "Overboard" (1987) Goldie Hawn, Kurt Russell: A yachtsman's wife falls overboard, forgets who she is and becomes an Oregon carpenter's mate. 'PG' (A, L) 120 mins. TBS

2 P.M: "Home Alone" (1990) Macaulay Culkin, Joe Pesci: Accidentally left by his Paris-bound family, an 8-year old makes mincemeat of two burglars in the house. 'PG' (L, V) 120 mins. TBS

4 P.M: "Rush Hour" (1998) Jackie Chan, Chris Tucker: A Los Angeles detective and a Hong Kong supercop become a team to rescue a Chinese consul's kidnapped daughter. 'PG-13' (A, L, V) 120 mins. TBS

6 P.M: "Nation Lampoon's Thanksgiving Reunion" (2003) Bryan Cranston: Chaos ensues when an anesthesiologist and his family travel to visit the man's hippie cousin in Idaho. 'Not Rated' 120 mins. TBS

(Realizing an all-new King Of The Hill was coming on Fox, I took action. You gotta love that Bobby!)

6:30 P.M: King Of The Hill

7 P.M: The Simpsons

7:30 P.M: The Simpsons

8 P.M: Malcolm In The Middle

8:30 P.M: Watched Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life.

**********MONDAY**********

10 A.M: The Price Is Right

11 A.M: Baby Looney Tunes (Hehehe, I love them!)

11:30 A.M: A Pup Named Scooby-Doo

Noon: Scooby Doo, Where Are You?

12:30 A.M: The New Scooby-Doo Movies (featuring the Harlem Globetrotters)

(Temporarily I turned off the TV to listen to some Latin jazz on 89.3)

2 P.M: The Joy Of Painting with Bob Ross:
Lone Mountain: A view from the forest includes rocky mountains: KBDI-12 PBS

(Turned off TV temporarily at 2:30-4:30)

4:30 P.M: King Of The Hill

5 P.M: The Simpsons

5:30 P.M: King Of The Hill

6 P.M: The Simpsons

6:30 P.M: Everybody Loves Raymond: (Robert's Wedding)

7 P.M: Democratic Presidental Debate (Clark won it, with Edwards also getting strong points.)

9 P.M: Briefly watched Hardball with Chris Matthews

**********TUESDAY**********

10 A.M: The Price Is Right

11 A.M: (I had an appetite, and came back at noon)

Noon: Arvada Police Awards on Local Channel KATV-8 (I love seeing the Citizen Commendation Awards and hearing their stories)

2 P.M: The Joy Of Painting with Bob Ross: Seaside Harmony: A beach scene complete with clouds above the sea: KBDI-12 PBS

2:30 P.M: Mexico: One Plate At A Time: Starring Rick Bayless:
Lend Me Your Ears: Chocolate tamales, crema de elote, grilled corn

3 P.M: Amazing Animal Videos: (They showed a suburban home with an entire wall actually a beehive within, causing huge bee problems for quite some time reinforced within the concrete, as well as the Cockroach King, baby ducks saved from the sewer, and a cow healed)

4 P.M: The Crocodile Hunter: (Had many retrospective looks on his career, including a clip from the 80's, a moment his hand got bitten by a croc, his many dangerous snake encounters, bloopers, and other animal favorites)

5 P.M: The Simpsons

5:30 P.M: King Of The Hill

6 P.M: The Simpsons

6:30 P.M: Everybody Loves Raymond: (Grand finale to Robert's wedding)

7 P.M: (Watched "X2- X-Men United")

10:00 P.M: (Watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's")

*******************

So there you go, mate, just my extraordinary adventure without having to lift any of my limbs! I went cookin' some grub with Rick Bayless (Yep, he's the Smoky BBQ Chicken Baguette guy on the Burger King commerical), wrassled crocs with Steve Irwin and painted with Bob Ross. We're the Four Musketeers I suppose, hehehe! But there will be plenty more adventure where that came from!





Later I'm gonna check out your poems for the first time on Open Poetry #30, but now I gotta catch Bob Ross! Bon voyage...not so far a distance!

Current Mood: (Optimistic)

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (11-26-2003 04:20 PM).]

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (11-27-2003 10:05 PM).]

Hi Noah

I know I'm a bit behind, but I loved the Aussie entry! For anyone who is interested, Steve Irwin's website is www.crocodilehunter.com  of course!

B  

[This message has been edited by Bec (11-28-2003 06:48 PM).]

Another awesome entry. i like reading your stuff.

Cold hands means a warm heart

***********Friday, December 26, 2003*********

Teaching The World To Sing Again

Though I believe that Christmas is in our hearts and at least should be given each day of the year for our children's sake and for the sake of the children in the rest of us, still I often find myself saddened the day after Christmas when I see others go on about their own lives and families be divided again. The evening of Christmas Day was truly difficult for me, as I was living with the spirit of the boy in my heart like I want to and talking and giggling in a playful and laughter tone, and then my mom tells me to cut that out and stop acting like an infant and that there is no such thing as Santa Claus.

Actually, on the contrary, there truly was a Santa Claus, and his spirit keeps living on, which my mom also said "No, it isn't!". And I'm not just saying this to make the children happy, but because its true.

The original Santa Claus was St. Nicholas himself. He was born in Lycia in the 4th century, who was a lovable man who became the patron saint of children because he loved them so much. He was also very charitable and this is known from Roman accounts during his time in patronage. He didn't have his sleigh, his signature red suit or Rudolph and his reindeer then, but he had his white beard, wore bishop's robes that were red and white, and through a feast of his own on December 6, a Christian feast day. Up until the sixteenth century, his spirit was praised all across Europe, and then when the Protestant banned him from many European countries, which he got replaced with secular ideals, the Dutch fell in love with him and called him their "protector of sails". He graced the design of the first Dutch ship that made it to America, the first church in New York City was named after him, and they offered Christmas items that would become symbols to the holiday tradition. And as for the stockings, in sixteenth-century Holland, instead of them at first, children placed wooden shoes filled with straw to feed St. Nick's donkey and in return the shoes would be filled with a small gift. America is where the stocking became used instead.

And his name? The Dutch spelled St. Nicholas "Sint Nikolass," which in the New World became "Sinterklass". later changed to "Santa Claus". America is where the spirit of Santa Claus would be illustrated deeper. Dr. Clement Clarke Moore's 1822 poem "The Night Before Christmas" was originally meant only to read to his children on Christmas Eve but a friend had sent his poem all across newspapers and his poem instantly became a classic, which is where the reindeer and the sleigh added to Santa's spirit. He also gained weight in illustration in America from a cartonnist named Thomas Nast, who published the cartoons all throughout Harper's Weekly magazine until 1886, revealing the shift from a thinner to a bigger Santa, also mentioning Santa makes toys all year at the North Pole and monitoring children's behavior for them to be rewarded. All of this evolved in America to add to this beautiful holiday, along with the elves, the magic, and so much more!



Not often do I like to express my self-pride, but I honestly have to say I am right and my mom either is wrong or she didn't know this. I also have to be honest and say in my mind I thought of what she said as a bit "cynical", in the manner that she stressed self-control way too much that she was too grave and seemed to lack the spirit beyond herself. You can be virtuous and be beyond your own body, in fact I believe that is more virtuous. Then again, who's to say who is right or not? All I know is that I believe what I do and believe is right and I'm not going to let anyone, even those closest to me, alter my views just because I love them with all my heart. So do me a favor and don't lie to your children and tell them there is no Santa Claus, what's the use of lying anyway when the holidays are about believing and not seeing! Besides it is NOT true.

I AM the Mistletoe Angel, and therefore I choose to believe in magic and that which is beautiful that many would be skeptical to believe in. I believe in the children, I believe in the child in my heart, I choose to act my shoe size (and my size is very small for a male my age) but live with spirit rather than practicality. I believe Christmas should be every day of the year, beyond the time the tree goes down and the crystalline icicles thaw from your gutter. I believe in uniting but not in conformity. Too many believe that Christmas is the most happiest holiday, and my simple question to all these people is "Why?". What about the holidays makes you feel all warm and toasty inside? What do you feel? What about it makes your heart sing? I think too often these questions are not asked and they could bring in so much more juice to the Clausometer.

So I have to say the lack of spirit in my mother yesterday kind of broke my heart halfway. Christmas Eve is supposed to be a happy day, and I want to see my loved ones happy and lively and filled with laughter and glee. It should be made illegal to use the words "hate" or any synonym of it on Christmas Day even. Love is what the whole world needs, and to sing together in homophony, all closing out on the same cadence together before startin again. To love beyond terrestrial values and engage in the spirit. The Christmas Tree is the Tree of Life, and even when the "Christmas" Tree isn't up, the foundation is always there and shouldn't be ignored.

Anyway, I hope that all of you had a spirited and merry Christmas! Keep the Dickens in you and I wish you a merry Christmas 365 days a year, yay! Also, I must wish you a happy new year now, as I am going to make that trip that I postponed from the sickness I got at Thanksgiving as I mentioned before this Sunday. I'll be posting my live messages from my written journal on this grand adventure, and soon I will have that photo journal up as I promised before in the near future. So remember, when you make that New Years Resolution, please make it something special and don't take it for granted. Mine...to simply keep living up to my pen name!



Y'all stay warm and cozy now, you hear?

Current Mood: & (Mix between hopeful and sad)

Bend it like Dickens!

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (12-26-2003 03:06 PM).]

I believe in magic too. Awesome update Noah. I hope you update soon.

Cold hands means a warm heart

*********Monday, December 29, 2003*********

If The Hat Ain't Missin', I'm More Than Just Fishin'!



1:23 P.M: Home sweet home…the second home sweet home that is! Actually, I almost feel guilty having two Christmases. I wish everyone could see their families during this time of year, but sadly even with all the fine veterans in the army (the Salvation Army that is) and philanthropists and Toys For Tots, many still are stumped workin’ hard durin’ Christmas Eve. Nevertheless, I can’t let the misfortunes get to my head, as I pray each day like all my Catholic and Christian friends do and here I am, on the front porch lookin’ out, listenin’ to Willie Nelson’s "Tougher Than Leather", reading bulk issues of the Catholic Digest and Salesian Missions poetic contributions, and sippin’ on Country Time. I had always been fascinated with the anecdotes submitted in every subsequent issue of the Catholic Digest, so my grandmother signed me up for my own subscription. One of my favorites is from the March 1999 issue, with the story on Megan O’Hara written by her mother Peggy, the second child born in a large family who was diagnosed with Down syndrome and the doctor gave her and her mom Peggy information that was unencouraging that she may never walk or speak well and to put her in an institution, which they refused, and her husband Clark said, "God gave her to us, and God will provide for our needs, and hers." Megan went through a pulmonary illness, had heart surgery at 3 years old, nevertheless her and Clark remained optimistic that Megan would live a normal life and wouldn’t be treated differently than her other children, and Megan’s fist words were "Mommy, Daddy, love!" and she made baby steps that showed she could do more than what the doctors predicted. And though Matt, Maureen, Molly, Mark, and Patrick would all join the family, nearby friends and family always lended them a hand, and Megan excelled in speech and special need classes and also developed a love for athletics and proudly said, "I’m going to Special Olympics someday!" And with mixed tears of joy and fear for her little girl, she decided to let Megan join practice sessions for them and did speed-skating and when it was time for her to go to the winter games, worry filled her mothers heart and she prayed, "Dear God, don’t let Megan get sick, and help her not to be disappointed." and her husband said, "Peggy, we’ve worked hard to make her independent, now that she’s testin’ that independence, we have to learn to let her go." and one Sunday afternoon, when waitin’ for her to come home, she came out with a bright smile and a bronze medal tied to a red, white, and blue ribbon giggling, "Look Mom! Look Daddy! I won! I won!" and she kept earnin’ medals in so many different sports. Then one day, she heard that Wheaties wanted to put her picture on their next Wheaties box and she strided to Rochester to do it! And that story made me cry to see her parents wish of their little girl being "self-reliant, healthy, and happy" being fulfilled and knowing God answered their prayers.



Sometimes in the Catholic digests they also have beautiful submissions in Open Door, Help From the Heart, In Our Parish, and Words for Quiet Moments. Did you know, for instance, that your ability to deal with life is linked to how well you sleep, and the Exxon Valdez oil spill, Chernobyl, the Bhopal spill, the Challenger space-shuttle tragedy and the Three Mile Island spill are ALL linked to sleep deprivation? It’s even a fact 56,000 car crashes are reported each year by the police linked to drivers asleep at the wheel, and Canadian studies even say the day after Daylight Savings Time, when we lose an hour of sleep, traffic accidents increase 7%, but the day the clocks are turned back, accidents decrease by the exact same percentage. It is said by scientific research that we sleep in five stages, stage one being where your body relaxes and you think randomly, stage 2 a light sleep, stage 3-4 a ½ hour after Stage 2 the delta sleep where brain waves slow, brain blood flow lessens and growth hormone is secreted which children desperately need, then an hour later, REM sleep is achieved, where your brain is almost as active as when you’re awake and though your respiration and heart rate speed up, your muscles are paralyzed, and all the dreams unfold and children learn from them. How often have you dreamt or remembered your dreams? If you seldom do, please get yourself a nice slumber tonight! Dreams are a fascinating gift that should never be unraveled, and reveal ghosts of our true essence, and intergalactic passages to subsequent reconciliation. Life is all about dreamin’, so let your iris bounce at night! I’ve got so many Catholic Digest favorites I’d love to share with you, but I have much more I must talk about!

Nothin’ like sittin’ back in the kitchen and listenin’ to Willie Nelson’s "Me And Paul". Gotta love the cowboy in red braids! And nothing like the smell of pine in the air! It’s amazin’ how everythin’ in this kitchen feels like home. The pantry of downhome goodness, that cabinet filled with ceramic birds, glasses and collection of talkin’ hamsters from Gemmy (I love the dueling banjo ones especially! ) that stained glass window on the center west side of that monarch butterfly against a rainbow ribbon, the Barbara Mock painting hung to the right of the screen door to the sunroom on the north side of hummingbirds flitterin’ in a rosebud wreath, the porcelain angels on the shelf right next to it on the east side hung on the back of the cabinet, and the beautiful pencil sketch of Z. Sefton, "In Our Time" on the south side of a porch and two rockin’ chairs side by side with the poem,



"And when we grow old,
I’ll find two chairs,
And set them close,
Each sun-lit day,
That you and I,
In quiet joy,
May rock the world away."

That always makes me tear up happily knowin’ there’s livin’ proof in this house and other places across the world that eternal love exists and maybe I can find I too and grow old with her but in heart forever feel youthful! And here where the round kitchen table is placed over the mahogany oak floor, we always enjoy some Quaker oats cereal for breakfast early at 7:30 in the mornin’ deli meat, cheese, Fritos, Lays potato chips, gherkin pickles, manzanilla olives and peanut butter at lunch, and a wide array of favorites my grandmother cooks for dinner, from Texas hash to Salisbury steak to cornbread casserole to fried catfish to honeysuckle turkey, and pecan pie, blackberry cobbler and sponge cake for dessert. Before lunch and dinner, me and my grandparents and my aunts always speak a Catholic prayer before feastin’, for we believe the table is where peace is established, where our peace is joined between one another and bread is broken. It’s where we live in the moment, and as a Catholic Digest magazine illustrates on Paul’s Letter to the Philippines, "He learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." (Phil 4:12). And how to? Do it now and not "someday" and accept imperfection, just gather all your blessings like guests at the table and know like them, scratches will be there but it’s natural, as we too have scratches and stains!

This is what can bring my grandparents and me close together but divide me and my parents just a lil’ bit, being the only Catholic in my non-extended family. My grandparents and I, though keepin’ religion and politics out of mealtimes, discuss various Catholic ideas constantly, with Pope John Paul II’s new Luminous Mysteries in the Rosary a hot topic right now. We believe in no extent that Catholics are not Christians and Christians are not Catholics, but I do believe Catholics look upon Christ at a celestial level, and through the Eucharist, while Christians hold a general belief that He exists and Jesus lives on. Nevertheless, my parents and I settle each others differences peacefully as I believe respect for each others beliefs create peace, and I love them so much! Wow, look at the time! Time sure flies when you’re kickin’ back like a cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs listenin’ to classic rock on 100.7 KGMO, classic rock all day, with John Boy and Billy in the mornin’ on the ol’ TEAC CX-210 Stereo Cassette Deck with the Panasonic Technics FM/AM Stereo Receiver SA-5170 that my uncle Rob bought for my grandfather in the service (Wow, quite a long metaphor!) Right next to the kitchen here, they have a beautiful sunroom, with rockin’ and lawn chairs about, oak and pine walls decorated with collections of old tools, collectable trains from Lionel and a bunch of other antique stores, from Burlington Northern to the Santa Fe to the Union Pacific to Chessie System to Jack Frost to Oscar Meyer, all makin’ routes around the Sunroom Expressway, belt buckles from General Electric to the San Francisco 1875 Cable Car to Raleigh Lights to Stihl chainsaws to the Pony Express to the Minnesota State Patrol to the 1951 Southern Police Institute, steins up to twelve inches tall, mining lanterns, Readers Digest condensed books, and an antique Truetone short-wave radio. We can get frequencies all the way from Des Moines, Iowa from here, sometimes from Laredo, Texas, Nashville, Tennessee or Cincinatti, Ohio dependin’ on the weather as the crow flies to all these places!



Well, best I call it a night here and head into REMville. I’ll sure be in Georgia on a fast train tonight, or let my mind wander at least. Oh, those old five and dimers still have it in ‘em!

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (01-04-2004 11:49 PM).]

**********Wednesday, December 31, 2003**********

High Maintenace Leisure At 3600 RPM

Feliz Nuevo Ano! The eve, that is! Relax, just half a day away, yay! 11:15 A.M and quite a sun-shinin’ day outside! Over a cup of Raspberry Zinger tea last night, we talked on and on about what our grandchildrens’ first names should be, my future youngens, my mother and sister went on and on with their dumb Republican blonde jokes (they like to put Republican in with the blonde jokes) and meanwhile my grandfather and I talked about the new Rosary. Thumbin’ through some Unity magazines, slappin’ my pappy with a traditional lunch here, and piddlin’ beautifully listenin’ to the great Randy Travis’ “Always and Forever”. Randy Travis is one of my country favorites. “Forever And Ever, Amen”, “The Truth Is Lyin’ Next To You”, “Good Intentions” and “My House” are all soul food to my sunflower garden in my heart. Randy Travis, George Strait, and the Dixie Chicks would have to be my three modern country favorites!

[Edit Huge image removed - Ron]

I already got my New Years Resolution aired-up., and then again, shouldn’t we make them each week, perhaps even each day? Shouldn’t each day be about managin’ our dreams and lifestyles? It’s never too late to make a resolution, and only you have the power to determine your own resolution and make yours complete. Anyway, on a spiritual level, mine is to keep livin’ up to my Mistletoe Angel name and keep givin’, but on a more earthly level, I hope to get my demo disc out and about in my pursuit for a career take-off. Have faith in me soon you’ll get to hear my music as all y’all have waited too patiently for! I promise your anticipation wil be rewarded! What’s yours?

I cannot imagine a more comely livin’ room than this very one I’m sittin’ in right this moment. It puts the livin’ in living! Soft customized rockin’ chairs, that old robin-egg blue loveseat, those oak end tables between the chairs placed with coasters and poinsettia, big windows festooned with rosebud curtains, with authentic Rivoire and N. Scheneemann country paintings, family portraits, ceramic angels on shelves, and a Hamilton clock given to my grandpa after 25 years of service at Western Electric adornin’ the walls, and antique glass cabinets loaded with classic PEZ dispensers, ceramic eggs, Mr. Peanut toys, vases, and hand-crafted ornaments, with my grandma’s wedding dress beautifully tucked away in its own cabinet on the northeast side of the room. And, yep, gotta have your entertainment system. My grandparents love watchin’ crime investigation dramas on A&E and movies on Lifetime and USA, and my grandpa has an affinity for tape-recordin’ those movies on VHS with his beloved Quasar VHQ840 4 Head VHS Double Azimuth-Universal VCR/TV/Cable/DSS Remote box. He has libraries of films stored away in the closets!



My grandfather also has an enjoyed hobby of carpentry and hand-craftin’ in his shed workshop in the backyard. As a boy I remember him makin’ me birdhouses and an adorable tin man with a red heart worn on the outside that I hugged many nights before going to sleep that I still have tucked lovingly in my room, and a front porch lantern out of a bucket to attract moths and fireflies in the evenin’. Out there in his shed he has all kinds of tools, shippin’ docks full of ‘em, even a restricted section of them, plus a few small Briggs and Stratton Craftsman lawn mowers; an eighteen horsepower YTV/16 Varidrive with 3600 RPM, a GTV/18 Varidrive, a six-speed 44’’ eighteen horsepower Craftsman, and accessories to complement them. He also has his Yard Machines 4.5 horsepower 22” inch side discharge mulcher, his Craftsman 3.5 horsepower 25” vacuum, shredder and bagger, and a series of other hardware. Just now I got to see him workin’ on a new cabinet shelf, using his 10” compound miter saw to carve the wood to proper length and his Valuecraft Model 8180-4” by 6” disc and belt sander to smoothen it out. He’s also got a Delta 12 ½ by 6” planer, a SKIL 10” band saw, a power tool motor, his workshop is remarkable and magical here. It has a mingle-mangle of ideas and innovations. Standin’ with him in the workshop, he told me how he collects defunct lawn mowers and repairs the motors, re-furnishes them, and sells those Briggs and Stratton Varidrives. Keep in touch if you’re lookin’ for a fine lawn mower, he’s a no-haggle cavalier! He also re-builds old tractors!

Earlier we tried visitin’ the Trail of Tears historical museum, unfortunately it was closed for the holidays. Nevertheless we had a good drive along the scenic Mississippi River route, headin’ up to Route 177 on U.S 61 and takin’ it down seven miles east to Neely’s Landing, right on the foot of the Mississippi River basin. Just north of the state park on Route 177 is a Proctor and Gamble industrial complex, where my grandpa said he was a millwright when he moved to Missouri in 1983, after he had went to a union hall and got a union card and when cursed with cabin fever in February 1983 got a job for four months until layoffs were made and he rejected returnin’ once they blew over and the company rebounded. And so now, we headed into the state park and got to see all the winter scenery and lovely, serene Lake Boutin , my favorite Show-Me swimmin’ hole! Lickity-Split would be my favorite Show-Me waterslide!

So we didn’t get to experience the tour, but we still got just the adventure we needed! On the way back west on Route 177, we passed Hickory Hills Road, where my second cousins live up on the fourth house to the right. Jim, Debra, Jeremy, Chris, and Nathan Shank. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard from the, and I still pray for Debra and the family after Debra’s car accident.



With my Aunt Helena, I sat down in my favorite maroon-chestnut rockin’ chair tunin’ into That 70’s Show and King of the Hill. Tonight I’m tunin’ in at 11:00 to catch America’s Party hosted by Ryan Seacrest. For those of you who have watched the program now later reading’ this very journal, my brother Larry and his best friend Colin may be featured on the program having won a VIP pass from my local alternative radio station from Fort Collins, 93.3 KTCL, to fly out to Las Vegas with other winners. Metallica, Ashanti, Keith Urban, Westside Connection, Hootie and the Blowfish, and Puddle of Mudd will perform and like Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Rockin’ Eve 2004 they say will feature all kinds of entertainment. I’ll be lookin’ for you, brother! But for now, time for some ice cream! Prairie Farms ice cream!

9:00 P.M: Just tunin’ in now to Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve 2004, yep, the world’s oldest teenager’s annual tradition. Kicked it off with Avril Lavigne, the biggest movie and CD of 2003, and now Tim McGraw is singin’ “That’s Why God Made Mexico”. Beautiful. And wow, I’d hold it in nine hours to get Dick’s attention! Here, we’ve got Fleetwood Mac, Bon Jovi, lots of great artists, but now time to turn into America’s Party where part of my family is on the spot!

11:00 P.M: I’m at the edge of my seat hopin’ to catch Larry and Colin in Las Vegas in the American Wedding DVD bachelor party! And here’s the countdown! Five…four…three…two…one…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! FELIZ NUEVO ANO! FELIZ NUEVO ANO, TODAS LAS PERSONAS!!! Smoothies for everyone!

Uggghhh, I’m really not enjoyin’ America’s Party, too much lewd, raunchy, crass entertainment and behavior! I wouldn’t be surprised if Larry and Colin were duckin’ for cover in the basement! Personally, I find the whole Paris Hilton Incorporated bonanza disgustin’. She’s like the real-life Billy Madison. The only part I’ve liked about this party is Hootie and the Blowfish performin’ a great cover of “The Goodbye Girl”. Everythin’ else is givin’ me a virtual hangover, so I’m goin’ to conserve my soberness, spray on the eye soap and call it a night forty-five minutes into 2004. Bound to be either a beautiful year with new freedom or a beautiful year that ends in incarceration, should Bush have his way…again. He is the greatest threat to world peace in my humble opinion and when he’s removed from office and another takes his place and gets a chance, hopefully another can rule with love rather than hate or vengeance and settle the disorder and dilemmas in this corrupted government and world with diplomacy and understanding rather than by blind rage and anger that passes the facts and people and puts the victim taken on by white hot hatred in an oubilette of ignorance. 2003 had a victory definitely with Saddam’s capture, who without doubt was a great terror, but it was all the troops who accomplished this feat and doesn’t change my personal opinion of Bush at all or of the war being a good idea, which I am against all war. Bush is a war criminal and the least humanist president ever. How can one possibly think or agree Bush is THE or one of the best presidents ever when he is the most secretive, lobbyist-governed U.S president of all time who is so ultra short-sighted he has no clue what’s goin’ on in the average Joe’s life or even his daughters’ lives is the big question I have. I can never trust an administration like that that is not open-door policy to the people and peoples’ liberties are at stake, peoples environments, peoples geography, peoples’ health, peoples’ freedoms. Even when it may seem all is quiet above, underground a large percentage of his initiatives and incentives are carried out, selling this nation in his own auction. If you thought my political poetry was robust in 2003, wait until this year, as I’m going to be mighty serious in-between my rainbow sharin’ and see to it a fresh new face is revealed hopefully! I pray for this!



Happy New Year, Happy New Year everybody!

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Ron (01-05-2004 09:03 AM).]

**********Friday, January 2, 2004**********



Honky-Tonk Til' You Drop

Wow, how I covered 61 pages already? God, guess I don’t know my own right wrist! Can we get properly acquainted, Twisty? Soon enough perhaps this relentless spiel of subconscious farrago can get published, on my watch it’ll surely never earn a Caldecott honor but a simple high-five suthern style will suffice! But what do I know? There’ll be Tasha Tudor mornings, Veneer afternoons and Z. Riles evenings. All I need is that Brookstone wireless transmitter to let me decide the day!

61.2 degrees currently, at 93% humidity, 58 degree dewpoint, south winds at 15 miles an hour, barometer at 30.03 inches, visibility 5 miles, ceiling 500 feet, with already .31 inches of precipitation through one day into the new year. It’s a bit too cloudy to be an en brochette type of day, but it is a gorgeous cloudy day, that kind of cloudy day that don’t topple a smile cattywampus. Perched on the front porch, lookin’ out, I see Grandpa’s sheds, his cardinal birdfeeder, the marble gavel, a stone birdbath swarmin’ with cardinals and finches, the old Mary concrete statue standin’ out in the middle of the lawn in a flowerbed, in front of the propane tank that keeps this home warm, sleeping blackberry, potato, and corn plants and bushes patiently awaitin’ Groundhog Day, spruces and cedars and oaks all about, a simonizin’ collage indeed. With a high expected at 72 today, it is undoubtedly a teaser for another lush spring ahead, a preconceived matinee. The southland in the springtime is unarguably in my heart heaven on Earth, but even with the trees bare of their chartreuse and emerald dresses and the EXL ceiling fans off, it is the closest to spring this winter day can get. I’ll sure miss this beautiful second home when I go home tomorrow, and I can’t help but feel a bit sad inside, but again I live in my eternal Advent and know in time I’ll be comin’ on back, again and again!

Yay, we’re givin’ the Trail of Tears state park another go today! This time, there’s no stoppin’ us! Nuh-uh, no way, no how! Despite Mark Twain’s boyhood storybook vision of the Big Money ruther a fantasy now, some of is unadulterated beauty lives on, immortal as the Cherokee cry in my heart, which will forever resonate across this nation its heartwrenchin’ but resurrectin’ spirit song, as the Cherokee will forever be Ani Yunwiya, the Principle People of this land!

Ever since I was a boy, I have endured the darkness and grief felt by my ancestors of the Cherokee community from the stories I have read. Of how my people used to live an undisturbed lifestyle in the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, the Carolinas and Georgia, who their tribes always had one white chief for peace and one red chief for war all before the mid-17th century, when after Hernando De Soto charted the Cherokee towns in the Appalachians in 1540, the Louisiana Purchase ratification about three hundred years later would eventually force over 18,000 Cherokees to move west across the Mississippi with Sequoyah tryin’ to get them safe and sound on their Trail of Tears to Oklahoma, with 1,600 fallin’ from starvation and chlora and other diseases along the way in summer and autumn of 1838. Hearin’ the echoes of their tragic and agonizin’ stories, from the Georgia lottery of their land to the wods of Winfield Scott sayin’ "Spare me, I beseech you…the horror of witnessing the destruction of the Cherokees." to the journals of Dr. C Lilybridge, Lieutenant Edward Deas and Mrs. Rebecca Neugin, all expressin’ the cry of protest and compassion for my Cherokee people, to the saddening loss of Princess Otahki when she sacrificed her only blanket, and her life, to save the life of a lil’ Cherokee girl! I’m just blessed that the Cherokee spirit lives on even if still oppressed and ostracized! I am Cherokee and am proud to be Cherokee, one of the Ani Yunwiya!



Trail of Tears State Park, just like all the Mississippi river basin, floods with natural scenery! We’re takin’ the scenic route this time around, down Route W from Route 177 south, down to Route V, and east there to the state park. Passin’ through the small town of Oriole, there’s luscious deciduous foliage shawlin’ the hills, a salmon blaze, with the cloud cover rustin’ the sepia-toned earth. Lil’ creekbeds and ditches splurtin’ like summer garden hoses back and forth, slip-n-slides for dragonflies and Kentucky warblers, all Mother Nature’s sacred all-season water park. Should’ve I been a cowboy?

Yay, it’s open! Nothin’ like a walk through the Vancill Hollow Natural Area or the Indian Creek wild area, flourishin’ with an extended family of river birch, eastern red cedar, possum haw, hazel alder, box elder and slippery elms, watercolored with honey locust, cucumber magnolias, purple trilliums and white wake robins, and high on the branches in the canopy, ovenbirds and Baltimore orioles cry “hew-lee!”. Whether now in the heart of winter where the Mississippi kites glide above a covered soil of dead leaves, opossum jaws, turkey beards, clam shells, beaver incisors and deer molars, in autumn when wild turkeys roam eagerly and carefree among trails jeweled with sweet gum seed, sumac berries, walnut husks and acorns, or in a full-bloom spring and summer with red-eared sliders jumpin’ and surfin’ in the big drink, black ducks quackin’ within the hickory wilderness, and toads hopscotchin’ over the shelf mushrooms and between the wild grape vines, and the evening bades welcome to an Eucharist of gypsy moths! Whether to the west or to the east, in the old growth or out on the prairie, over the river bluffs or under the forest ceiling, the Mississippi is like no place else, it is every pioneer and Mark Twain martyr’s home and indisputable territory!

In honor of my family’s heritage, I need say but one universally valuable word: Peewah. It is translated as “Come follow in this direction”, so I invite you to come along with me, we can sing “Kum-Ba-Yah” and roast some smores and I’ll let you wear the red, white, and blue bandanna! It’s a free world, my friend!

4:35 P.M: Being the only exception to my "all sandals, all the time" rule on this vacation, I’m slippin’ on my boots to prepare for a traditional grand finale to our vacations together; catfish dinner down at the Hideaway then cruisin’ over to the Lil Ol’ Opry, a honky-tonk just out of town where every Saturday night it’s happenin’! Except it’s Friday night, and Lil’ Ol’ Opry is only open on Saturdays, so this calls for a substitute honky-tonk. So we’re workin’ everythin’ out by goin’ to American Legions, where they turn their post into a public honky-tonk every Friday night in the Cape Giradeau area in downtown Jackson. Heck yeah, time to boot-scootin’ boogie!



Just a while ago, I saw the end of "Blast From the Past", an adorable movie I love so much, and the former half of "Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery" on the small kitchen telly, while enjoyin’ this Ronnoco cappuccino, fresh from the D-Mart. Selected globally…roasted locally…no way like that! God, is it really 65 degrees right now? I think I’m guilty for committin’ early spring vacation fraud!

Down U.S 61, the Grandmother Road, we go, but we’ll be takin’ a lil’ shortcut this time to the western edge of town, through Route D, down to Broadridge Drive by their junior high school, and south on West Drive down to Jackson Blvd at Route 34 and Route 72, where we take Route 72 across to Route 51, take Route 51 south to Route A, and west on there aways is the Hideaway, a rural restaurant favorite which used to be Denman’s Grocery but became the pride of Marquand, Missouri. I always love ordenin’ the grilled catfish there, some of my favorite catch of the day in the whole world, and takin’ three packages of lemon juice to kick in the juices. My grandpa has all kinds of friends who come in here, like Cowboy Kenny, who constructed the concrete walkway around the sides of his house. He said on Route 51 at Junction Route K, and down to Route M, he has a concrete business there. Yay, an appetizer of cole slaw and hush puppies, yay! Mmmmm, that’s my kind of catfish! Reelin’ in the big fish alright! Now onto American Legions Post 158 for the Friday dance party!

6:55 P.M: American Legions Post 158, in service since 1919, when the first commander took order in this town and post. Here our beloved soldiers and those in service of our forces are praised and our veterans are gifted with honor and pride as every soldier should! One commander of this post, Norman H. Sebastain, who was commander in 1996, sadly died recently at a local hospital where my aunt Judy nurses at and I asked her by telephone to offer my adoration to him in honor! Every year I go out to visit, I go with my  grandmother and Aunt Helena to make adorations to sick and ailing patients at the Southeast Missouri Hospital in Cape Giradeau. I also make adorations for children and the elderly at the Catholic Community Center in Colorado, as I believe every brother and sister needs faith healing to complement the guardian angels that watch over them. It makes me happy to see them smile when lovin’ comfort finds its way to their hearts.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to dance once! I absolutely love country music but it truly can make me cry ever so often as so many songs represent love that lasts forever or heartbreak and not havin’ a girl’s hand to hold can’t help but make me tear up, as though I’m still in the heartbreak category. And with no one wantin’ to even let me participate in their chair dance, I just went up to Table 2 to study the steel guitar and Wade’s lead electric guitar. Guess with God bein’ the chief executive of the National Honky-Tonk Bar Association, he makes 7/8 of His children dancers and the remaining eighth the musicians who make the honky-tonk rhythm. Perhaps I am undeniably among that 1/8 minority whose mission is to make the dancers’ heels’ swing and bring lovers and strangers together and in reward some girl will be seduced by my charm and I will win her heart! That thought makes me feel better as good things come to those who wait in this Grand Advent, though I still wish someone would a least dance with me!



I just love the twang of steel guitar! I don’t intend to put that in all my songs but definitely get it in there in a handful of songs and make it family with the guitars, various percussion, bass, mandolins, sitars, fiddles, and mariachi instruments to name a few. I want to create a diverse palette of sounds that don’t sound alike to one another. Nelly Furtado has a good example of that in her new album "Folklore", like in "Powerless (Say What You Want)". I just love her and her music, even her looks are very unique but very natural. She’s got the banjo, the mandolin, and guitar all mixed in there, beautiful.

This marks about the end of this excitin’ adventure! Nevertheless returnin’ home tomorrow morning will birth the beginnin’ of many more adventures. Next time we come out during a summer, we’re headin’ out to Graceland (yep, ol’ Memphis, Tennessee!) and also we’re headin’ to New York next Christmas and Costa Rica sometime soon! Yay, more expeditions, yay!

I miss all my Passions friends so much, love you all, and I love you family and grandma and grandpa! I love you Aunt Judy and Helena! I love you Holly! I love you Jim Barks! I love you Mississippi River! I love you 100.7 KGMO, mince meat pie and Gemmy hamsters!

Time to retire and rise and shine like a baby rooster, yay!

Love,
Noah Eaton

"You'll find something that's enough to keep you
But if the bright lights don't receive you
You should turn yourself around and come back home" MB20

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (01-29-2004 11:04 PM).]

**********Thursday, April 15, 2004**********

180 Degree Shift To The Rainbow

Yay! It’s the 100th post spectacular for this journal! Wooooooo! (does happy dance) Wow, I started my journal about three months prior to Serenity’s and already hers is over five times larger! (giggles) I suppose since I’ve long lived in the suburbs, it is not exactly easy to get around a lot and travel, and when you are isolated from the city and the cradle of life, you tend to lose a keen sense of savoir-faire that could well have made great posts in here every day. But I’m not complaining. Some days we’ve just got to enjoy and live the day from sunrise to sunset. While Passions feels like home, I also am aware life shouldn’t be lived staring at a screen all day, as it is important to find balance in all you do.

Woo-hoo, the Colorado caucuses were this Tuesday, and I placed my sentimental vote for Kucinich. I’ll be supporting Kerry no matter what come November and intend to dedicate myself in promoting the democrats for a change in leadership, though Kucinich has long been my favorite of the field. We desperately need someone who can rule with hope rather than fear, and Kucinich has an uplifting spirit that could generate a return to blue skied diplomacy again. Politics needs a fresh face and Kucinich has been my idol as of late.

Speaking of which, this week is Election Week at the University of Colorado and I’ve been heavily engaging in college politics this week. I am a co-head of the movement “180 Degree Shift At The 11th Hour”. This week I have set up a campaign booth on the University Memorial Center, speaking and encouraging everyone into this movement, working to get our referendum passed. Our mission is to keep universities from investing and offering financial support from corporations that violate human rights and destroy the environment (e.g Halliburton, Bechtel, Texaco), take $70 million of student and public money from the world’s wealthiest multi-national corporations and back into the communities in a practical and ethical manner (prevent universities from investing from the stock market), work to free all universities from sweatshop tie-ins, valuing and fighting for women’s rights (90% of sweatshop workers are women and girls), continue to fight for a shift to non-toxic alternatives in industry to save our environment and educate young people of the value of our environment, and make sure all profit universities make are made without investing in criminal corporations or the slaughtering of forests and rainforests.

We believe our society is being raped with myths, and minds are not for sale. Did you know, for instance, that in 1997, the UN Conference on Trade and Development reported that wages for unskilled workers had dropped by 20 to 30 percent in developing countries that had liberalized trade laws to attract manufacturing business from developed countries? Sweat shops are prominent forces in these very countries, and even here in the U.S, the most richest country in the world, sweat shops remain a curse. In fact, the U.S Department of Labor reported that more than half of the 22,000 American sweatshops violate minimum wage and overtime laws, and 75% of U.S garment manufacturers violate the health, medical, and safety rights of their workers. Yet we continue to be deceived by the boondoggling braggadocio dripping from the mouths of the tycoons and we are treated like their meat tickets. Another such misconception is thrown around that when multi-national corporations spread into less-developed countries, all those who live in poverty have lives changed for the better, which also is a lie. In fact, in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, where workers make clothing for Disney, they get paid $2.15 a day, while their expenses daily are at $6.12. Inevitably at this rate no money can ever be saved in their cookie jars for their children’s college funds, to pay for their water and heating bills, even for a single run to the grocery store. They fail to even reach one-third of the bar of an average family income. 180 11’s mission is to expose the underbelly of these myths, and once and for all force corporations to come clean and defend civil rights to the far extent.

Ultimately, we also are working to pass this referendum to protect human rights and democracy in general. Though this is a young organization, we believe we are a great representation and archetypal of civil respect, freedom and dignity, and we believe those 27 million slaves forced in labor for corporations should also be freed and respected. CU has contracts with Nike in Indonesia and has a bond from the government of Colombia, investing in the drug trade there, both known for their brutality on other individuals. And we are fervent in forcing CU and other colleges in illegal pursuits to shed apart those contracts and invest only in companies who have honorable, respectful working environments.

We are zero-tolerant on the heinous atrocities of corporations who support war, harm individuals and harm the environment. We’re working to topple CU’s contract with Lockheed Martin, who make weapons out of depleted uranium waste and dumped hydrazine rocket fuel into backyards, killing 13 children, Coors, who Peter Coors and his drunken colleagues have dumped toxic and industrial waste into the Lowry Landfill, poisoning river systems and the public sewer system, DOW Chemical, who makes napalm jelly used in war weapons and machines and the creator of chemicals, particularly dioxin, which have damaged immune systems, nervous systems, genes and are the guilty conscience behind the Union Carbide gas tragedy in Bhapal, India, killing 20,000 and causing untold ecological and environmental damage for years to come, poisoning any children who may play nearby the old factory, Peabody Coal, which has relocated 12,000 Native Americans from the Four Corners to destroy their land to excavate for coal, Texaco, whose barrels of oil have killed species, people, and rainforests in Ecuador, and Chevron, whose helicopter shot at Nigerian protesters against their violation of human rights along with Shell oil. Along with all other companies who manifest greed such as this, we will have nothing to do with their avarice brickbat lust and work to emancipate our institutions from their destructive policies.

Finally, we believe “minds are not for sale”, which the corporate class is purposely intending to label this as a left vs. right situation to distract the pursuing of the truth and real issues of our society and the quest for knowledge. This is no war against the left and right, it’s all about the top and the bottom. The richest 5% of America own 95% of the wealth, and the richest 1% of the world have virtually half the world’s wealth, which more and more is becoming privatized each moment. This 1984 theory is rapidly becoming alive, and this Orwelliology must be dissolved before we are all treated like commodities produced and manufactured on sterile assembly lines.

Please, it would mean the world to me and my colleagues if you pray that our referendum is passed and support us for a future of hope and grace. The only naivety is procrastination, for procrastination arrests the development of what hope and faith can accomplish. I put this mentality in mind each time I passionately speak my mind, from urging everyone to sign a petition to the Prime Minister of Canada to prevent the building of their own missile defense system, all the way up to Bush’s stubborn and ignorant policies, and I do not intend to ever let it go. Bush may continue to go on portraying himself as a man without fault, stubbornly hide away his mea culpas, who needs his questions printed out ahead of time in his very few public appearances so he can plot a lie or quick way out of the truth, who can’t stand on his own feet and confidently speak out his own heart and mind on the spot, and continue to window dress, but slowly more and more are beginning to discover the truth, that the American people will know he has no plan to win the war on terror, and more will isolate him, understanding the real stakes. I believe I’m speaking for many here. Only 44% now approve of his worldwide diplomacy, only 49% approve of the war on Iraq, down sharply from 61% a few months ago. A majority of college students like myself continue to substantially grow more dissatisfied with Bush. His job approval rating has tanked from 61 to 47 percent in just six months. This proves that Bush has produced nothing but lingering doubts in the full spectrum of our nation, and in my mind anyone who polarizes a nation or creates widespread doubt doesn’t deserve to be re-elected, besides my lasting philosophy I’ll never re-elect a warmonger. So I intend to help re-beat Bush come November, in hope we can return to a nation seeking the American dream, the promise of hope and freedom from mental slavery. I may be young and ideologically-minded and may not have experience in politics beyond student politics, but I do know what I believe in and believe every politician should believe in something for the greater good, and believe the ideals I hold faithfully to are of a value to many.

I also voted in favor this week for other great organizations, including Hip Hop Congress, an organization aiming to spread knowledge through music and increased community activity and awareness, with open mic sessions and poetry slams and local talent searches always being hosted, Stop Hate on Campus, a student-owned and operated organization creating fun opportunities free of racism, sexism, classism, homophobia, Tran phobia and other biases and hatreds, Club Tango, bringing multiple forms of dancing to campus life, and many environmental organizations.

Hey, what’s with Bob Dylan appearing on those Victoria’s Secret commerical ads?  Heck, I’ve always thought of him as a sexy man, perhaps still the sexiest man in rock and roll, but, whooooo! LOL! I figured Sting would be the most likely middle-aged sex symbol to appear in those commercials! LOL! Bob does look good in those ads though. I love quite a pleasant surprise. Wonder if Laetitia Casta will make a cameo in one of his future videos!

Stay cool, everyone!

Current Mood: (Happy)

Love,
Noah Eaton

"You'll find something that's enough to keep you
But if the bright lights don't receive you
You should turn yourself around and come back home" MB20

**********Sunday, April 18, 2004**********



Less Guns, More Cookies And Naps At Three O’Clock

Well, I guess you just can’t win them all.

Friday marked a dark day for our organization “180 Degree Shift in the Eleventh Hour“. In our university election via ivote, we lost by a mere170 votes. That may sound like plenty, but on a huge campus like the University of Colorado, it is not a lot at all. Over 2,500 supported our referendum, but sadly a larger 2,700 put it down. Though it saddens me to see this golden opportunity dim down, I graciously thank the 2,500 who rooted for us, you all rock! Furthermore you give us hope that, even if not under this very name, such an organization can win over in the very near future in the next generation. By then I’ll be focusing my services in Portland, but across the continental divide I will be cheering you all on.

It also was a gloomy day for Club Tango, another club I fervently supported, as I believe dance is a grand art of life and to promote it on the university campus and let it blend into our lives in flying colors would lead us all to a more vibrant and spirited life. However, the majority disagreed, losing by over 1,500 votes. Hip Hop Congress also lost! So it truly was a triple crown of thorns today!

It wasn’t all bad news though. Our environmental programs won with flying colors, as did Stop Hate On Campus. And thank God the latter passed!

So now that my time at 180/11 has come to a closure, you’re probably asking, “What is next for the Mistletoe Angel?”. Though I am disappointed by the election results, I am not discouraged, and believe a simple loss cannot stop me from changing the world. Of course I will continue to staunchly stand beside Kerry and the Democrats to get some fresh faces into the White House come November, and when I move to Portland in a month and a half, I will also haul along my ideologies as well and put them into practice for the children of tomorrow, for there are many I know who do wish for a U-turn back to the age of innocence. But more importantly, I still hold firm to my belief that I hate politics more than anything in the world, and only participate in them because it is my social responsibility to represent what is right in my conscience, and so I will not let them dominate my life and will let music and the arts do that. I want to form a band in Portland and write uplifting music to the world, with a rock and roll approach but blended with other worldly sounds. In case I never become a commerical breakthrough, I will simply continue to write music for the fun of it and work for child education.

Now that I have got out of the way, being a current Colorado resident who lives a mere half an hour from Littleton, I have to express my deepest sentiments of the Columbine tragedy. Today marks the fifth anniversary of this tragedy, the worst display of school violence in the history of our nation, and with this reminder comes two emotions; the tears and compassion I share with all the victims and their families, and secondly a political point.

I remember clearly the very day the tragedy happened: April 20, 1999. I was in my sophomore year at Denver Academy, in Mr. Ernewein’s homeroom. Because in my classroom Mr. Renewing (my hero) assigns us jobs of the week, which rotate each week, including being the Microwave Guru, cleaning the floors, reading the homework assignments, and selecting the Music of the Week, my job was watering his beautiful plants. Back before Clear Channel got its claws on KBCO-FM, we’d always listen to the great diverse adult alternative music on the station during the school day. Shortly we were to prepare for Literature and suddenly, I heard a late breaking news update on the station and, with the volume fairly down, I asked Mr. E to turn it up. Right when he did, the first audible word we heard was “massacre”. We kept listening and was shocked to hear it was happening at…Columbine High School. Immediately the question buzzing like a rusty neon sign on loose hinges was, “Who would even possess the thought of inflicting arm on all those innocent children?”. I began to cry, and Mr. E gave me a hug sharing my sentiments. I felt weak and believed I couldn’t concentrate on my studies. I surely wasn’t the only one who felt speechless. One classmate had every reason to feel that way, Kacey Revis, whose dearest friend was a student enrolled there. Eventually we found out he had been shot in the ankle about a week or so after the tragedy. As far as I remember, school actually wasn’t cancelled the rest of that day, but we did abstain from our routine schedule and had a compassionate values class and threw some Frisbee around on the lawn outside to try to lift the burdens. I must have went to the water fountain a dozen times that day because my throat felt tight and parched.

I would be lying if I said I understood exactly how all the students at Columbine felt that day. Though I had been abused as a little boy throughout elementary school, that is NOTHING compared to having to crawl around under cafeteria tables and around the library and make the run for the front door in the risk of being shot to death. The whole school itself was quite close to blowing up, and thank God the S.W.A.T team found the pipe bombs in time. The fact is, I can’t even begin to fathom the rapid heartbeat each student endured that day. However, any single display of compassion I believe is enough to console even the heart beating out of control, or the heart frozen cold and numb. God Bless Columbine, their students, their faculty, the parents of their wonderful students, and all those who hand-crafted those blue and white ribbons in their love and honor.

Which brings me to my ultimate point, regarding yesterday’s news of Cheney working to re-legalize guns of all varieties again in light of the Second Amendment and encouraging all NRA members to vote for Bush. Quite frankly, I’ve always found the Second Amendment to be the most poorly written amendment in the constitution, simply because “the right to bear arms” is an over generalized statement. I do believe in the right to defend ones self and family, but I’ve never found guns to be the answer. Perhaps I am a bit of a hypocrite to the Second Amendment, but, then again, the main argument I always hear about the Second Amendment is, “I believe we have the right to bear arms, but only by ‘common sense’”. And that is EXACTLY what’s wrong with this amendment. “Common sense” is an abstract concept, that is, everyone has their own idea of what “common sense” is, so it is a rhetorical term. And currently the motif that is being expressed by NRA followers is “God, guns and freedom”. That, in my opinion, is just sick and sad to hear. School violence has increased to its greatest index yet, we’ve had those recent sniper attacks that killed random people in the Washington D.C metro area, where is the “freedom”? In my view, where there are guns, no one is safe. The victim, obviously, but also the holder of the gun, who is subject to all the anger and despair and bewilderment and eloquence nerved at the cartridge, which can radically affect ones self. You have little children who unpredictably wander about and are curious of all kinds of things, which is not uncommon they get their little hands on a weapon. Moreover, many don’t even purchase a gun to protect their families, they buy one for recreational purposes like hunting and shooting targets. I can’t even begin to understand how so many in the NRA are so adamant over guns, could you even begin to imagine a society equivalent to some Grand Theft Auto videogame where you can own napalm throwers and grenade launchers and at any moment one can have one in broad daylight? It was bad enough that we had 9/11 with the regulation in effect, but can you imagine an attack WITH the ban lifted? To me, it seems hypocritical that Bush and his administration claims to be deeply concerned with terrorism and would stop at nothing to get to the entire root canal of it, yet they are working to get weapons more prominent in our society than ever before. There are plenty of other ways to protect yourself, you know. Karate, pepper spray, you make the choice.

It seems just like 9/11, a limited number of people learned nothing from the Columbine tragedy. A gun is a weapon of war, and we don’t want to suddenly have sporadic wars on our streets with AK-47’s and Uzis. Therefore I a proud to be part of a current 19-page blacklist of NRA enemies, which includes Oprah Winfrey, Bruce Springsteen, Maya Angelou, Drew Barrymore, and my aunt Sheryl Crow! No one is safe when guns are around.

Perhaps I am a rebel to the Second Amendment, which states only that “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” Then again, what is specified by “bearing”? Bearing, too, can mean several different things, according to the American Heritage Dictionary. It can mean holding up or supporting, it can mean moving around or carrying them while supporting, it can mean to be tolerant of supporting. The NRA is just blowing the right to “bear” way out of proportion, and the abstract feel of the Second Amendment is exactly what makes it the most poorly written portion of our Bill of Rights.

So, please, I beg you, let us pray that the Columbine tragedy doesn’t repeat itself, and for a start we must stop the acceleration of weapon purchasing in each environment. We have our militia for a reason, it doesn’t mean that all of us should have to be militia too. We are heroes and defenders simply by being mothers and fathers, and it is the love of our children that protects them, not a cantankerous collection of steel, potassium nitrate, charcoal and sulfur. So cradle your child today, sing her or him a sweet song, and for those of you who aren’t parents yet like me, give your brother or sister or best friend a hug and have fun in the sun.

As for all the blessed students and teachers at Columbine, rest assured that He is always guiding you with His light, and will always amend the broken wings of His sparrows. Once again, I offer my angel hug to everyone there, as well as my annual blue and white ribbon!

So Cassie Bernall, Steve Curnow, Corey DePooter, Kelly Fleming, Matthews Ketcher, Daniel Mauser, Daniel Rohrbough, Rachel Scott, John Tomlin, Isaiah Shoels, Lauren Townsend, Kyle Velasquez, and Dave Sanders, a teacher who used every ounce of love and courage in his body to protect the children, God Bless You All, and let us confront our fears in the future with open hands and not guns. For the children of tomorrow!

“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap. ~Barbara Jordan”

Current Mood: (Optimistic)

Love,
Noah Eaton

[This message has been edited by Mistletoe Angel (04-20-2004 01:10 PM).]

(giggles) Awwwwwww, thanks Karilea! That is quite an impression, isn't it. Tell her too that objects are often closer than they appear. We are all indeed grains of salt under God's looking glass, but it is such a fascinating, sexy, empowering feeling when you may be small but when God looks down on each of us, how distinguished and colorful we all can be.

What can I say? I just do what I do. Sometimes what I do may not be right, but I believe in the long run when you look back, it makes more sense why you do something and it just proves once and for all we are all walking contradictions, all cocktails that make up all the essences and opposites that attract in life.

All this talking has made me thirsty, by the way. How about a yerba mate?



Sincerely,
Noah Eaton

"You'll find something that's enough to keep you
But if the bright lights don't receive you
You should turn yourself around and come back home" MB20