Monthly Archives: April 2012

Pisces the Fish

Probably, one of the most accurate, detailed, concise generalizations (smiles) I have ever read, and the traits of both the Piscean Man and Woman are quite glaring.

Pisces the Fish
February 20th to March 20th

Pisces is a mutable-water sign. Mutable signs have a longing for movement and extremely restless. Pisces is the most watery sign. It is constantly trying to adapt itself to its ever-changing feelings and to the moods and whims of others.

How to recognize Pisces:

Very few of these people can stand being confined for long in one place. You’ll have better luck if you wander into a spiritual séance, visit an art gallery, walk through a convent or a monastery, attend a concert or catch a floor show in a nightclub. You might check at Authors League meeting, drop backstage after a play or try some sunbathing on a yacht.

The chances are you’ll come up with a pretty good catch in any of those streams of life. The more creative and artistic, the more leisurely and esoteric the surroundings, the more fish you’ll find.

Most of them wouldn’t give a minnow for rank, power of leadership, and wealth holds little attraction. Few Pisces people accumulate money by the bushel, unless they marry it or inherit it.

The typical Neptune heart is free of greed. There’s a lack of intensity, almost a carelessness about tomorrow. There’s also an intuitive knowledge of yesterday and a gentle tolerance of today. It’s more common, and it takes less effort, to go with the current wherever it takes them. But to swim upstream is the challenge of Pisces – and the only way she ever finds true peace and happiness. Taking the easy way is a trap for those born under this Sun sign, a glittering bait that entices them, while it hides the dangerous hook and wasted life.

He’s indifferent to most limiting restrictions, if they don’t rob him of his freedom to dream and feel his way through life. Very little will excite him to violent action or reaction. The typical Pisces will normally take the path of least resistance, and the cool waters of Neptune continually wash away his anger. To arouse the fish to a display of temper is rather like tossing a pebble into a clear, mirror-smooth lake. You’ll create some ripples, but the surface wil soon be calm again.

The fish was born with the desire to see the world through rose-colored spectacles. He knows well enough about the seamy side of humanity, but he prefers to live in his own watery, gentle world, where everyone is beautiful and all actions are lovely. The rejected Pisces is to inclined to face the ugliness of failure by deepening his false hopes, when a determined switch of course or some new, forceful action might shower him with real, instead of imaginary, success.

You may have read that the Pisces symbol of two fish, swimming in opposite directions, indicates that the Neptunian is torn by dual desires. It’s not so. The two fish s reversed directions symbolize the choice given Pisces; to swim to the top – or to swim to the bottom and never quite reach his goals. Pisces must learn that he is to serve mankind in some way, and eschew worldly possessions. Piscean Einstein, who swam upstream, formulated a whole new world of relative time. Pisceans who swim downstream serve by washing dishes or shoveling snow.

In spite of their natural timidity, they often become some of the finest performers in the theater. But, only if they fight their distaste for the hard work of grueling rehearsals, and the dullness of the dreary, but necessary years of experience. Memorization is never a problem. The Pisces memory is legendary. Neptunians accept most storms with tranquil equilibrium. When Pisces has a feeling something will happen, it usually does.

Astrologers who speak of an old soul refer to a soul which has gone through many lives, retaining the wisdom of each. Often, they refer to Pisces, because a life as the fish is either the most difficult obligations a soul can choose – or a choice to reach perfect fulfillment.

The Piscean love of music and art, and her highly develop senses and versatility she owes to other signs, but her deep wisdom and compassion belong only to her, culled from the combined knowledge of every human experience.

The fish typically doesn’t take very good care of herself. Chances are she spends most of her excess energy (and she doesn’t have too much to spare) helping relatives in trouble or taking on the burdens of friends. Their trouble can be emotional or financial, but either can be a serious drain on Piscean health, which is rarely robust to begin with.

Humor is one of their secret weapons. Pisceans grin to cover unshed tears. They’re masters of satire and you may cringe from a bright remark thrown at you so casually that you’re unable to pin down the exact meaning or the intent. Sometimes the fun is warm and harmless, sometimes it’s cold and merciless, but it’s always a cover for another emotion the fish wants to hide, seldom spontaneous of itself. Pisces wears his laughs as a mask, and they disguise her well.

To help is her first instinct. The impositions of those who would trample him force the fish to hide his true spirit. Since the depth of Neptune’s waters causes him to absorb every pain and joy as if they were his own, it’s little wonder many Piscean pretend disinterests in hearing sad stories. But, remember that they are pretending. If you’ve been rebuffed once, try twice, and the real fish will surface.

The glorious Piscean imagination, their marvelous elfin humor and the Neptunian sense of beauty can create the most delicate, yet eternally lasting prose and poetry. Indeed, the world couldn’t do without their artistic efforts and their great compassion for a moment.

She hates to answer with a yes or a no. it’s always maybe. Their internal nature is as unfathomable as Neptune’s great oceans. The altruistic fish is filled with an inexhaustible, tender love for every living creature which is truly saint-like, when it’s not turned inward, in self-pity and self-love. Typically Piscean are the gregarious housewives with hearts big enough for the troubles of all the neighbors, and the patient bartenders who listen sympathetically to hundreds of tales of woe each week.

He is stronger than he thinks and wiser than she knows, but Neptune guards this secret until she discovers it for himself.

The Pisces Man
To anyone considering becoming involved with a Pisces man. Here is a message from Shakespeare:

There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

If you’re about to fall over the dam for a Neptunian, you should paste those lines on your compact mirror where you can see them every time you powder your nose.

A Pisces man can be everything you want him to be – or everything you don’t want him to be. A tide in his affairs is synonymous with opportunity. It requires a firm decision, determined action, and the ability to drown old, soggy dreams that prevent success. The trouble is that some Pisces men never recognize that tide at its flood, even when it sloshes over their feet.

The Pisces man isn’t weak. It’s just that he may linger too long on a fading, silver star, and miss the bright sunlight of success.

There’s the other kind of Pisces, the one who grabbed the tide at its flood. He’s a real catch for any girl. There’s always the chance he could turn out to be an Einstein or a George Washington, which would be simply wonderful. Pisces who fights his way upstream will have plenty of chance to lay the twin gifts of fame and fortune at your feet.

A Pisces man has no prejudices. He’s very short on cold accusations and very long on warm tolerance. The Neptune male possesses a rare sympathy of spirit. The very fact that he’s sensitive means that he vividly feels the emotions of those who seek his ear and get his heart. Pisces people often have to rest for long periods. The Neptune soul must be alone at times so fresh breezes can blow through to heal the wounds of all those vicarious troubles and bring back calm, undefiled individuality.

Remember that the fish is sensitive and can be easily hurt. His shyness is due to a painful consciousness of his own limitations, whatever they may be, and he feels them keenly. He needs to know that his virtues are counted by someone he admires, You. Never hold back encouragement from him.

He may try Yoga and Zen, or experiment with occult beliefs, and he’ll probably be interested in astrology and numerology, even reincarnation. Like the Scorpio, he was born with an understanding of esoteric principles. And these things are usually good for him. They help keep his emotions stable, and they provide an anchor for his vivid imagination. Pisces men get upset now and then, but their anger is seldom violent or long lasting.

Although he’s difficult to fathom himself, Pisces has no problem in seeing all the subtleties of others clearly. It’s difficult to fool him; he’ll look right through to the other side.

There won’t be many tremendous surges of jealousy. Or if there are, he’s such an excellent natural actor, that he’ll probably pretend them away.

It’s his nature to be gregarious. He can’t help it. He does admire beauty, and he may stare at pretty legs from time to time. But you can keep that in bounds and innocent with a little extra effort and your reward will be a gentle husband who’s both a romantic lover and a companion who can talk about everything under the sun.

Pisces are particularly vulnerable to suggestion. Never tread on this man’s dream – he won’t forgive that, or forget it. Give him a chance to turn them into realities by helping him find a good, firm star to hitch his wagon to one that will sparkle instead of flexing out in an eclipse of common sense.

In love, Pisces is a leaner emotionally, which means he needs boundless reassurance and faith, but it also means you mustn’t lean on him with imaginary complaints.

The Pisces Woman
Even without astrology, rumors have spread about the charms of a Pisces female. She has her negative points, to be sure, but at first glance she’s every man’s grade school valentine, with maybe just a touch of a Playboy bunny to add some pepper.

The Neptune female seldom tries to overshadow her man, married or single. All she wants is that he should protect her and care for her. She’s happily content to lean on his big broad shoulder and let him know, with wide-eyed wonder, how strong he is, and how much she needs him in this scary world.

A Pisces woman thinks her male, lover, boy friend, brother, father – in fact, any man – can lick the whole world with one hand tied behind his back, and it takes a surprisingly small amount of her touching faith to convince them of the same thing, men being the way they are.

She is eternally feminine in all seasons. At the risk of making an understatement, men are drawn to her like bumblebees to a honey pot.

A short conversation with her, and a man instantly relaxes. She makes it clear that she’ll never blame him for any problems in his career or any accidental mistakes. After marriage she may nudge a little. To be truthful, she may nudge a lot. Lots of times she’ll even be bitterly sarcastic, but every woman has to have some flaws.

Since the fish swims in both directions at once, she adapts beautifully and quietly to conflicting situations that would turn other women into nervous breakdown

She is not only subtle; she’s sometimes a bit deceptive when she practices the art of wrapping you around her emerald earrings.

She’s delightfully vague and dreamy. Like the March winds, your Pisces girl will have many a mood. She’s terribly sentimental, and when her feelings are wounded she can cry buckets. Pisces female sometimes get the idea they’re hopelessly unequipped for the fierce battles and driving ambition required to survive. At these times you’ll have to tell her she’s admired for her deep mysterious wisdom and her blessed understanding by every single human she has ever graced with her friendship. It’s usually the gospel truth.

The hardest lesson she has to learn is to overcome her timidity and her doubts. If the fears go deep, she’ll shut herself off from others then wonder why she’s lonely.

Now and then a Pisces girl will cover her shyness and vulnerability with wisecracks, a sophisticated veneer and a frigid independent personality, but it’s merely a cloak of protection, worn to hide her uncertainty from the prying eyes of rough people who would bruise her gentle heart if she exposed it.

There are some things one just doesn’t do, as far as Neptune women are concerned, not acting like a lady in public is one of them.

A Pisces girl will give all of her heart to her children. Female fish are the greatest women in the world for understanding the shyness of small boys and the growing pains of awkward adolescent girls. She’ll sacrifice anything so her children can have what she was denied as a child. She may be too permissive. Administering discipline is difficult for her, and she must realize that a lack of firmness is often as bad as sever neglect.

Don’t forget her birthday or your anniversary or the day you proposed. She won’t. That’s the subtle secret of the Pisces woman. Whether she follows Neptune’s call as a dedicated nun in a convent or as a sultry songstress in a noisy nightclub – she’s a girl. All girl. One hundred percent.

From: http://www.agoyangyang.com

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The Little Things and the Beauty of Snail Mail

From Facebook:

Li Frad Le Fay
Today I received something really AMAZIIIIING!!!! Joe Bielawa Thank you so much really!!!!! I going to buy a frame for it a really nice one hahaha finally got it =D and it’s AMAZIIIIIIIING!!!!! SO MUCH LOOOVE!!!! =D Kristine Weitz Love you too =D haha

Last June, after I photographed Kristine W. in Minneapolis, I asked Facebook friend and Kristine W. fan, Li Frad Le Fay which of the photographs I had taken did he like the best. He picked a few, but came back to this:


When I sent the disc of the images from the concert off to Kristine, I included an enlargement of Li Frad’s favorite. Knowing that he was fan of Lady Gaga as well as Kristine, I asked if she would please sign it “For Li Frad. Even though you are a little monster, I still love you” then she added “Love, Kristine W.”

It took a while for me to get the image back, as Kristine is on the road so much, but I knew, in time the signed image would be returned and sure enough, in a couple of months it was back on my doorstep.

For whatever reason, it took a while for Li Frad to give me his address, which I can understand…although I may creep, I do not stalk, but how was he to know

After some time, Li Frad gave me his address and since he resides in a foreign country, the address looked, well foreign. Or completely strange to me. I wasn’t really sure if it was an actual address.

I sent it out a week or so ago. This morning I was thinking that I should send Li Frad a message to see if he might have received it. When I logged onto Facebook today, I saw the post that is above.

What is cool for me is, as I run in various circles exercising my passion and enjoying some wonderful moments of connectedness photographing these musical celebrities, I get to pass some of that along to someone 10 months and 2000 miles away. For me, that is the gift.

And the beauty of snail mail is it adds to the excitement to see that package on the doorstep labeled “Photos: DO NOT BEND!!” And I know it well, as I send images around the country, always wondering when/if that return envelope will be used, and most oblige me.

And I am guessing when Jake Shimabukuro returned home to Hawaii this week, he saw that large envelope in his mail labeled: “Photos: DO NOT BEND!”

Addendum: 6/3/2012.

Li Frad Li Fray poses with his picture of Kristine W.

Li Frad Li Fray poses with his autographed image of Kristine W.

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Cameras, The Grey Market, Frugality and Naivety

Three years back, I purchased a Nikon D90 from a “dealer” I found on the web out of New York. Jumbo Packages it was called. (Still think it sounds like a porn movie title). It had the most “bang for the buck” of all the places I had looked at. I had checked out local retailers, internet sites, big name retailers…but ole Jumbo Packages could save me a few hundred on my purchase. After a few weeks of hymning and hawing…I decided to bite the bullet and just make a purchase and dropped a couple grand on a camera package: two lenses, the D90 body, a power winder/auxiliary battery holder, a tripod, a couple of memory cards.

When I received the “Jumbo Package” a large box with the whole kit and caboodle inside, I was like a kid on Xmas morn. All a goofy excited over my new tool that would bring my artistic talent out of my self-imposed exile and into the digital age. I noticed right off that there were some small items missing. I called Jumbo Packages and had difficulty getting thru on the help line so I called back on the “place an order line” and got right thru and voiced my concerns. They sent out the missing items. I realized at that moment that I had kinda been taken, but was so thrilled with the camera, that I just chucked it up to experience and figured I would take a loss on the little items. I wanted the camera and the lenses, and as I said, it was a start.

11, 000+ some images later (as posted on my Flicker) I was working a gig affiliated my corporate day job last week and the camera fell off a desk and “incurred an impact” which, is my way of saying I was a knuckle-head and knocked my camera onto the floor.

I sent the camera to Nikon USA repair in El Segundo CA and awaited the news on how much it would cost. I had an issue with a lens prior to this event two years ago and Nikon fixed it pronto and I had it back in my possession within 10 days.

Eight days passed and no word from Nikon. I called today and spent what seemed like an eternity on hold waiting (Nikon built it’s first pair of binoculars in 1918, 32 years before its first camera….ear worms, damn you!) Finally, I heard a live human voice identify himself.

I asked him what was happening with my camera and began to get an uneasy feeling as it took a while for Nikon Guy to actually find my repair order. I knew something was amiss…I could just tell.

And then he explained: “Um, ya, we have problem with this order. It appears from the serial number that this is a grey market camera. It’s a Nikon, but not sanctioned to be sold in the US and apparently, you bought it from an unauthorized dealer. So there is nothing we can do, we won’t repair it.” And suddenly I had a knotty feeling in my gut.

“So basically, your telling me I got fucking screwed when I purchased this?” I asked.

“Um, ya if I could use that language at work, I would say that.” Nikon Guy responds.

I apologized for my adjectives. Then begin to try to piece this together…but I just keep coming back to the fact I got fucking screwed when I bought the thing, so I stopped trying to figure out the what happened/why and figure out the how (to repair). Nikon Guy gives me the name of a place in Chicago that may be able to repair it. (after 20 minutes on the phone trying to get through to them I gave up and will try tomorrow.)

If the Chicago Connection can’t/won’t fix it, then it is dead and I toss away a grand. Or, maybe, that trip to Japan might be happening much sooner than I thought.

So I have to purchase another body so I can be up shooting. The last ten days without a camera I have been a moody, cranky, pissed off little shit…and that is probably the kinder-gentler way for me to describe my attributes. Without the means of my photographic expression…I am a prick.

What is funny to me is I used to spend money a lot more freely when I had a limited or non-existant supply of it. It is as if since I have gotten clean and sober, I have to keep what I have massed tightly, watch everything carefully. What the fuck is this about?? I still feel it is nothing but intrinsic of this planet and has no real value. Just get another camera and be done with it.

And the other thing that is quite comical to me was the reinforcement that there are sinister people in the world, pulling scams to make a buck. And little Joey walked right into one and opened his wallet. I am shocked, (laughs) Really? REALLY? Maybe this is one of the reasons I suck at certain aspects of my business and finances…I believe in being honest about it.

So from here on: I deal directly with Nikon.

 

ADDENDUM 4/27/2012: Untied Camera in Bensonville IL has quoted a bid to repair the D90.

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Denial, Self Realization and that Ugh, Fuck Moment

You know that moment where suddenly a veil is lifted and an understanding floods into you mind and you realize the way you have been going on about something is COMPLETELY a state of denial or disillusion and you are face to face with the error of your thinking and it hits you: Ugh, fuck!

You don’t know really where to begin, except not to feed into THAT bullshit any longer.

You wonder:

Who else could tell (ya praobally everybody)
You feel like a fool ( um, ya and hold onto THAT feeling just so you may not fall into this trap AGAIN)
In amazed embarrassment at all the years you lived this way ( again, hold on to that feeling, the discomfort)

But then, after the flood, there is this feeling of fresh air and /or a fresh light that shines in on an area once so dark with self-deception that a wave of power, force or strength seems to overflow the area that once was dark and you realize, ya ok, it’s cool. I am done thinking that way. That thought pattern is a delusion and that delusion is killing me…

And suddenly that ugh fuck turns into ( the goodly) OH FUCK!

Ya, I have had another one of those. Again.

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Death and Taxes….

….that which is for certain.

It’s that time of year again, and as usual I have run down to the deadline for filing, except in these last recent years money is returning to me as opposed to more debt being incurred to the IRS. I seem to be making more sound business decisions with a mind free of narcotics. So that aspect of this time of year is not the issue for me.

Alfredo “Freddy” Nolasco died three years ago today, at the age of 31 from cirrhosis of the liver…it seems like a lifetime ago, and in a way, it was.

Freddie was the second Aquarian to come into my life. And sway me in a way that no others have.

I met Freddy in 1992, he was my protégé Nathan Tuetle’s best friend. Nathan, as with Freddy and few others, were “my kids’. A group of lads that took me in, or that glommed onto me in my late 20’s and early 30’s and seemed to view me as some sort of demigod.  I tried to be the mentor, the teacher…but it was kind of a fucked situation, because really all I was doing was trying to be the father I never had.  Me without boundaries, and lacking any discipline, I spoiled the hell out of these lads.

Freddy tagged along at times when Nathan would come into my photo lab/studio in Cathedral City to get film developed or have his next photo lesson.

Eventually, Nathan went off to New York City and then Atlanta to follow and achieve his photographic dream.

Freddy and I began to hang. He would just show up where I was living and we would just spend hours chatting away. We bonded very quickly and it was an intense bond…a kind of bond I have only felt with just a few. Even with its intensities, it was strictly a platonic relationship.

He constantly ribbed me for being an “old man” and I was quick to point out his adolescent foolishness.

Freddy’s ‘family” encouraged me to marry one of their clan, who needed citizenship, an illegal immigrant with two children. I was told I would just have to put up the marriage front, and not even have to live with or support her for she had a “successful business” running lingerie from Mexico into East LA to sell to Hispanic transvestites. Even in my state of narcotic induced neurosis, this immediately caused me pause, for when I thought of a vato in the barrio of East LA, I couldn’t really imagine there was a large tranny population there to warrant an import panty trade from Mexico.  I just assumed she was an, a-hem, importer of sorts and this ruse was just a hook to try and win me over. Again, in my neurosis, having direct connection to a foreign panty trade seemed enticing, yet I was reluctant.

The “family” offered me $5,000  to marry her. I insisted on $25,000 to “cover expenses.” They declared me a greedy gringo, and stopped with their encouragement. The woman, in her mid twenties began to “court” Freddy, who was still the bumbling virgin, and eventually won him over with sex.

Looking back now, if I would have received $25k at that time in my life I would certainly have ODed and in very deadly way.

One night Freddy and I were on the couch, sitting close. I was teasing him about his newfound avenue for sexual release. He moved right next to me, put his arms around me and hugged me, looked me in the eyes and said “Joey, I promise a woman will never come between us” I laughed and said, “Don’t say that Fred”  “No Joey, I mean it” he continued  “I will never let a woman come between us and put a wedge us” again I laughed, but sternly said “ Freddie DON”T SAY THAT! It’s gonna happen. It’s alright.  Just don’t say that”” Freddie put his head on my shoulder and hugged me tighter and softly said “Oh, Joey. No, it won’t”

The phone rang and I pulled away form Freddy to get up, answer it and when I did a woman’s voice yammered on in Spanish and all I could understand was “Freddy.” I laughed, handed the phone to Freddy and said, “ You gave Gabriella my phone number?” Freddy jumped off the couch and grabbed the phone from me and began to speak in rapid fire Spanish. I wondered if I sound that way to people who don’t speak English, talking a thousand miles a minute?

Freddy hung up the phone and said “ Joey I gotta go!’ and headed for the door…I roared with laughter and said “ Hey, PUNK!  What were you just saying to me on the couch as you cuddled all up next to me?”

“This is different, you don’t understand” Freddy tried to explain as he opened the door “ but I gotta go. I’ll se you later. Bye, Joey” and he scurried out the door in less than five minutes from the time we were embraced on the couch.  Ahhh, the power of the V.

Freddy did marry the woman against his mother’s (and mine) wishes and in the course of time it turned out be a grave mistake costing Freddy much hardship financially and legally.

I know Freddy and I smoked some weed at various times, but we never really drank together, and towards the end of our time together in Palm Springs I know we engaged in narcotics, but it never really seemed like a common occurrence, but then my drug consumption never did appear too severe to me anyway, thus was my denial.

Freddy joined the Navy in the early part of 1997 and it caused a reemergence of emotion from the last Aquarian I was madly in love with who left and went into the military.

The similarities were evident between Freddy and the One ( who wasn’t).  With my abandonment issue so close to killing me , I just wrapped it all into one lump of painful emotion and created a justification that fueled my use.

I began to get letters from Freddy in the military professing his love and longing for me. This would just tear me up inside and cause even more confused emotions and pain.

I saw Freddy in the summer of 1997 a couple of months before I left Palm Springs to seek rehab in Minnesota.  Freddy was in town on leave and to visit his wife, but we spent a couple of nights together staying up all hours of the night talking and eventually we fell into bed together, cuddling and wrapped in each others arms.

While I was in rehab, Freddy sent me letters that again just stirred up emotion. He wondered why I couldn’t have sought rehab in Palm Springs and that he always though I would be there for him in PS. I stressed to him that, at that time I had to get OUT of Palm Springs…it was the one time in my life where my running was the best thing for me.

15 months later, I returned to Palm Springs and Freddie was out of the military. I hooked up with some of my old crew and Freddy came over to hang. We were all drinking/ drugging and decided to play a game of strip poker, with the winner of the final hand winning the other three players as his slaves. After some time, Freddy won the final hand as myself and the other two players where in various to stages of nakedness. “Master Freddy” decided that we, as his slaves, should wash his car. Under the influence of the drugs and the booze, and aroused by the game of strip poker, my two gay friends and I were just miffed that all Fred wanted us to do was just wash his car and not be forced into service our new master, who won us fairly in the poker game.

The three of us created such the scene with the hose, buckets, suds and sponges washing Fred’s car, that he finally said enough and got the hell out of there, squealing his tires as he sped away. The three of us found the whole thing just that much more amusing with Freddy’s hurried exit. We went inside and carried on with out him.

As my recovery began to take hold and I began to stand on more solid ground, Fred’s ground began to crumble. He would call me in the middle of the night in various stages of confusion and or panic. I would calm him thru his anxiety. Most times he would just call to chat. Even though this calls would come in the early morning hours when I was sleeping, I didn’t mind, it was good to hear his voice and we would, as always, get into some heated discussion, rib each other, laugh like crazy. Even with 1900+ miles between us it was as if we were right next to each other.

In Sept. of 2008, Freddy’s deterioration of his health was starting to take a heavy toll. I had been trying to get him to look into rehab and was even encouraging him to come to MN and enter rehab. He wasn’t really willing. When he was given the diagnosis of liver failure, he looked into Loma Linda University and they were willing to accept him in a program for chronic alcoholics. Freddy didn’t have the initial enrollment fees. I covered the costs and when I called the hospital to make the payment, the nurse questioned as to why I was doing this. I really didn’t know except I thought it might give him a chance…get him started. He entered the program; they let him call me when he checked in. I felt good, I thought he might be starting a new path and might begin to enjoy the road of living life with out alcohol and drugs as I was experiencing it.

Three days into the program Freddy checked him self out.  When I called the hospital that day and they informed me of this I was more than a little pissed. They offered to refund a part of my money. I told them no, to keep it and apply it to some other person who might need to get enrolled in the program. They seemed surprised by this…I didn’t care.

When I finally made contact with Freddy and we began to tear into one another as to why he left the hospital, I finally realized the magnitude of Freddy’s disease. He was going to die. He was too gripped by his denial to face a reality with out chemicals. He wouldn’t face his denial and it was going to kill him.

This was a very difficult moment for me (and even now, the keyboard is blurred by my tears…and I have take a break) Ok.  It was a difficult moment for me for I realized there was no help for Fred and that a time was coming very soon where he would be dead.

The last time I saw Freddy was in March of 2009, less than two weeks before his death. I was out in PS, CA and was staying at a campground. I bused over to Freddy’s house to see him. He was now living with the mother of his son, but still married to the woman he married to gain her citizenship.

He looked like hell. He wasn’t the thin attractive man I saw last. He was haggard, aged, bloated and walked with a swagger that was almost comical if it wasn’t for the grimace on his face with each step he took.

I took some pictures of his son and his girlfriend with his son. The girlfriend took the boy and went shopping leaving Freddy and I alone.  We sat on the couch and talked and he commented on how good I looked. I tried to convey to him that stopping using and drinking changes a person’s health.  He thanked me again for getting him into Loma Linda and sincerely apologized for leaving. I told him he didn’t have apologize to me, he should be apologizing to himself.  He told me he would repay me the money I spent to get him into Loma Linda and I told him “ No. You won’t. But don’t worry about it. I didn’t spend that money as a loan”

As I left and we hugged goodbye he looked me square in the eyes and said: “You know I love you, right Joey?” I did know it, but shrugged it off and just said, “Ya Freddy, I know.”  We were to get together again that trip but it just didn’t happen.

He called me when I was back in Minneapolis and expressed his sadness that we didn’t see each other again. I shrugged it off again and told him not to worry.

He called one other time and left what would be his last message on my answering machine that said “Hey Joey!  It’s Freddy. Just calling to see how you are. Hope you are doing ok. Take Care. Bye.”

You know…I was to call him back.

A couple of days later…April 14, I was out having pizza with a friend when my cell phone started chirping. I saw it was a 760 area code but didn’t recognize the number. I answered and a woman through a thick Spanish accent, in broken English said: “Joey? Freddy’s sick. In hospital. Freddy’s real sick” when I realized it was Maria, Freddy’s girlfriend, I told her to not to worry. We knew he would get sick again. I told her I would find a translator and call her back tomorrow. I don’t know if she even understood what I was saying.

The next day at work, I couldn’t find anyone willing to translate. I knew of one co-worker of Hispanic decent, explained the situation and asked him but he refused citing him translating to her would make him uncomfortable. Whatever.

I tried again the next day, but it didn’t pan out. When I got home that night my answering machine was blinking and I pushed play and it was Maria again and her message was: “Joey. Freddy already gone. Freddy dead. Freddy here no more” and she hung up and that was it.

(I am a wreck right now as I relive this)

I went crazy.  I was so pissed that I didn’t make contact with him at the end. That I couldn’t find a translator to talk with Maria. That I couldn’t get thru to him to get clean REALLY angered me. I wanted to drink. I wanted a smoke. I wanted to get high. The fact that he died and abandoned his son even PISSED ME OFF MORE!! All the things that were not in my control angered me. And, in a way, I went right back into an active addict mindset.

I called my friend John Carlson and unloaded some of this on him. He suggested we go out for sushi. This was a good idea, for it got my mind somewhat off of the anger. The grabbing of the fish with chopsticks and tossing it into my mouth kind of satisfied my urge to do shots of booze.

I tried to maintain my daily routine…I went to work, to the gym. The gym helped a lot; I beat the shit out of a punching bag a few times that week and had bruised knuckles & swollen hands to show for it.

But my urge to drink was so strong. I didn’t give a fuck that I had five years (clean) it didn’t matter. It usually hit in my idle time, after work. So every time I wanted a drink, I went out and knocked back sushi.

Six days after Freddy’s death, I was sitting at Mt .Fuji Sushi on Lyndale Ave. in Minneapolis sipping tea, looking at my latest sushi bill and I realized I had spent $680 on sushi in five days and I thought: “boy, you better reel this in” I realized  couldn’t continue to mask my pain with sushi. I had to start to deal with his death.

I don’t know really…what else to say. I have pictures of Fred. And a ton of memories…mostly good…I was an ass in the end there and got in his face a few times trying to bust thru his denial.

I know now there was nothing I could do to “save” him.  I had my “mentors” into recovery, but it was me taking the action to get and stay clean.

I know I shared love with him and it could have gone to another level. There are omissions in what I wrote that are the indicators to this…but I didn’t go into that detail. I know Freddy fought/ denied a part of himself that his religion and his heritage told him was a sin or weakness. And I know he used drugs and alcohol to help mask these feelings. But aside from all this…he was a good friend even with 14-year difference in age between us. We shared a certain closeness that I hadn’t shared to that degree with any one.

I wish I could have had more time with him, yet the time we shared is something that will always be with me.

When you read this you may think of Freddy as a dumbass or a loser and that’s ok, you can have your judgment.  I knew him as an intelligent, fun-loving comical guy, in the grips of the illness of addiction, fueled by a mindset of denial.

And although I try not to, I can’t help but have my judgments and it reinforces to me that religion is just soul-corruption; for a group of mankind in the name of a loving god, label another a sinner, damned to hell for who they were born to be and for who they love is the greatest hypocrisies I have ever heard in my life.

I still think the name is the ultimate in phonics: Alfredo Nolasco

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It’s been awhile..

..since my last post. and alot has happened in the space of a few weeks.

I had my first gig with TownSquare Media, a media company out of St. Cloud, MN that I am currently working with; and that was  Home Opening Day of the MInnesota Twins.  After a series of communications, The Twin hooked me up with Major League Baseball and then was accredited with them and now can shoot n any Major League Ball Park in the country.  WTF??? How did that happen? HAHAHA. Just trips me out as the dots become connected, but I guess that is what happens when things come together.

I shoot over 400 images that day, edited down to 200 that I submitted to the media comapny for review and here are the final 32 they used for their website:

http://wjon.com/hope-springs-eternal-for-twins-fans-at-home-opener-photos/

Doing some shooting for my corporate day job, candids of the staff to be used during a slide show at company staff event, I pulled a bone head move and knocked my camera off a desk and it SMACK CRACK onto the floor. Multiple cracks in the housing. It still worked so I could finish the task at hand, but I sent it off to Nikon in CA for repairs. WIth a full schedule of gigs on the horizon, it is best to be without a camera for a while now than have it crap out at a later, more crucial time.

I am up for a gig this coming Friday, so I will have to rent all equipment for that.

I have been a slacker. I have an article written about my last experience with Jake Shimabukuro..but have yet to post.

The above mentioned corporate gig had me arriving at work early in the morning this past week and neglecting my early a.m. gym routine. Feel somewhat out of sorts.

Last night I returned to the rehab facility I went thru 9 years ago for a meeting, spent some time in a small group with the newly recovering…certainly affirms how far I have come since I was the twitchy one just a swirl of emotions….ok so maybe I have just dialed those two traits back. maybe. alittle.

 

 

 

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