Bandy early years

To sum up my last post, my father was an alcoholic and my parents died when I was a teen. My life is far from privileged and I've been through some trying times. I am now 43 years old and I'm homeless in Salt Lake City. My reason for writing this blog is because sometimes I get a little lonely and finding someone willing to listen is difficult. When I try to talk to people, they ignore me or curse at me and call me names.

Back to my story.

I am now 19 years old and still living in the same apartment in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. My job as the assistant janitor at Cuyahoga High was going okay. It was a rather warm day for early March and I was satisfied from my lunch of pepperoni and American cheese. I was sent to fix a clogged toilet at the auditorium which is located in a separate building next to the school. This single occupancy bathroom at the back of the auditorium is rarely used except by teachers during assemblies and members of the chorus that practice during 4th period. The person that dropped off a load of this caliber, big enough to make a Roto-Rooter sputter, was probably one of male tenors.

I rolled up my sleeves and made any necessary precautions to prevent a splash back. This was a big bad monster turd and I was determined to conquer it in battle. My plunger as my lance with a firm grip and a clear mind I gave my first attempt at basic combat. I tried to remove the blockage with no luck. I pictured the Knight in the story my Mom used to tell me before bedtime. He was the greatest horseback rider in all of Spain. A bright idea flashed into my mind. I felt the need to mount my chocolate-filled porcelain steed, similar to the Indians that can ride a horse standing on the saddle. Now on top of the seat staring down at my fate and freedom, I raised the rubber ended stick over my head and brought it crashing down with all my might... this was a mistake. The plunger broke a hole in the front of the toilet along with breaking the value that brings water in to the bowl. Sewage was spraying in air akin to an indoor geyser. I desperately tried to stop the flow until I was up to my shins in dirty liquid. The stench in this small bathroom was worse than my Dad's breath. Because I broke the toilet they fired me on the spot. I never received my last pay check from Cuyahoga High. My landlord kicked me out immediately when I couldn't pay rent. Lets just say that tenant rights were basically non-existent in 1966.


Now I am homeless again and on the road because I had my fill of Ohio. My library computer time is almost up.

Here is a poem I have been working on.

Bandy kept going
One day bruises will heal,
a simple pat on my back
Can I feel
A sincere compliment
all I need
Will I freeze tonight