We Don't Need No.. Extortion

What an image. Though it isn't a real one, I feel it's highly controversial. This is what the future could amount to if we keep going with the economy the way we are now. Gas prices have fluctuated so much throughout the past and have created a major economical impact. Since cars first came out in the early 1900's, gasoline has been the choice of many Americans who drive. Since then, things have progressed. Gas prices have gone up and down. They've seen the price of 25 cents per gallon, and almost 5 dollars per gallon.

At the highest point of gas prices in my life, I was around about 15, learning how to drive a car. It was the beginning of summer and my mom had told me that during the summer, the gas prices go even higher than usual because so many people are going on vacation. Oil companies raise their prices because number one, oil is getting harder to find, and number two, they always try to get it as high as they can to make money. One day, I'm pretty sure gasoline may be as rare as a pearl in an Oyster. My mom always used to nag about how much she hated getting gas. Especially since growing up middle class, we didn't have nice, newer, economical cars. We had your average clunker that got maybe 14 miles per gallon. You know, the ones that always needed to be filled up.

The use of the word Extortion was a very good play on words for this image. It would be like blackmail if anyone had to pay this much for gas. I would feel cheated out of driving my own car in a way. It makes the image much more controversial. Oil companies would probably have a cow if they saw all the altered images such as this one that we've created.

The way our country thrives for oil, America could be screwed in the future. I don't think I wanna live to see the day when I drive by an Exxon that says Regular: $12.89. I actually just got a cold chill at the thought of paying that much for gas. Job wages are definitely going to have to go up for any of us to afford gas at that cost. People may resort to just riding their bikes, or walking to work. Or if it's far away, taking the train, or a bus. But those two things will probably cost more also if the price of gasoline is ranging at about 13 dollars a gallon. I'm just hoping we never resort to paying this much for gas.

In My Fathers Eyes

By the look on his face I could tell that he was interested, and I smiled softly at him. It made me feel good that my dad wanted to help me out. I've never met a man who hated questions so much in my life. But he knew that I loved hearing about all the things that he had went through during the decades. It was still kind of early in the morning but I wanted to catch him before he left for work. Yawning, he took a sip of his daily cup of hot tea, lit a cigarette and hand gestured me to proceed.

"Okay Mr. Eackles; let's start from the beginning." I semi-oredered him as he shook his head grinning at me and mumbling, just loud enough for me to hear, "Seems like a good place to start." I felt like I wanted to know everything. Only because I knew that the times he'd grown up in were so much different than mine. He'd seen the 50's all the way up through today. "Tell me about your high school days. I know they're a stretch from mine" I asked him and he let out a small "Ha." before replying "1968 compared to 2010... it's sort of impossible to believe that. I didn't think i'd live to see the day.. it's almost scary. I can't believe how different High School is now compared to back in the 60's. Everything was way more open. Cops didn't regularly patrol the school, and teachers weren't always on you about everything." He shook his head almost as if he was dissatisfied by the way public high schools handled themselves. "Even the transportation was different; High school seniors drove the busses. Now that was funny. They even got paid to do it too. Boy those high schoolers through the elementary school kids for a loop." My dad's shoulders bounced as he laughed to himself. I asked him about how the cars were different. He suddenly got a look of major interest. I thought to myself, here we go. I swear the man could go on for hours, possibly days, about cars. "The typical Muscle Car was the GTO. We marked off sections of the road and drag raced GTO's, and 57 Chevys. Then the Ford Mustang came out in the middle of 1963. Everyone went absolutely crazy for these cars. The girls usually had the Mustang Convertables while all the guys played around with the engines inside of theirs and made them as loud as can be. I had always wanted one, and I still do." Before I could ask another question, he butted in again and exclaimed, "Wanna know something mind blowing?" I nodded. "Gas was only 25 cents a gallon." Bewildered I thought of all the times I had spent almost 30 dollars on gas and how much I could have saved if it were only 25 cents a gallon. I almost wanted to cry.

When I asked him about his grades in school he sighed, "If you failed, you failed. There was no such thing as a "No Child Left Behind" program; which is probably why I failed the third grade and had to repeat it." Just then, I wanted to see what all he remembered from elementary school. He began his rant once again. "Now you know my life growing up was way different than yours, Zo. I was a Virginia boy growing up with parents divorcing and re-marrying. I felt like all I did was move around." He cleared his throat and asked me what I wanted to know. I said "Everything. In as much vivid detail as you can remember." being the total smart alec that I am. His eyebrows raised up on his forehead and he shook his head laughing at me, placing his hands behind his back and stretching. "I remember the principal would litterally beat us with the board of education. It was wooden, about 3 feet long, and had holes in it. I think they were there to make more impact when we got beat." We shared a laugh. "There was none of that Referal, suspension, expulsion stuff. You got the beating and you learned your lesson."

I asked him to talk to me about the first things he remembered as a kid. "The first president I remember was Eisenhower. He lived somewhere in Pennsylvania and he loved to golf. My mother liked him a lot, but I wasn't really concered with politics. I remember the very first Polio injections. Boy were we all scared out of our wits. You could hear the kids screaming when they saw the big needle used. It sounded and looked like it was enough to freak any 6 year old out so when I had to get mine, you can only imagine. Of course after we all got ours, then they came out with a sugar cube that you could take orally to prevent Polio instead of the huge needle." He crossed his arms and I asked what every child had during his time. "For you, it was Barbie. Every girl had a barbie. For me, every time you walked out of the playground at recess, everyone was using a Hula Hoop. I kid you not, every child had a Hula Hoop. They ranged at about a dollar for one. The guy who came up with the Hula Hoop must have been a millionare. I had one, and I was pretty good at it. Until my little brother decided he wanted to break it. I was furious." "When I lived in Buckton, Virginia, we went to school in a one room schoolhouse." I cocked my head to the side and exclaimed "Really?! Like movie style red and white schoolhouse?" He nodded and said "With the bell on top and everything. Now get this, the boys and girls had seperate bathrooms, but they were wooden outhouses outside of the schoolhouse. In the winter, we were heated by a coal stove." I was almost bewildered. I really only thought that was on old movies. Taking notes on all he had said, I smiled realizing how different his life was. Before I had time to ask another question he jutted in, "All the schools in Virginia were named after southern leaders. All the names have been changed since then." He sipped his tea and then said, "Just thought it might be an interesting little fact for your interview." I laughed at him, thinking about how genuine he was. I asked him what the scariest thing from his childhood was. "I was around 16 I believe. Living in Hampton Roads, Virginia when the Cuban Conflict went down wasn't the best, seeing as I was right next to a major air base. The Cuban Conflict was the closest we had come to nuclear war. I remember hearing all the aircrafts and the air force getting things ready, testing and practicing maneuvers. I remember JFK being president, and being scared for my life that my house was going to blow up."

After High School was over, my father began to tell me about his life in the Army. "Being drafted at 19 was a little scary, I'll admit." He said. I Loved hearing him talk about it though. "I was happy that I didn't get sent straight to Vietnam. They sent me to Frankfurt, Germany after i had completed all my training at different Forts across the United States. It wasn't until i had gotten to Fort Lewis in Washington that I went to cooking school through the army. There I had found my passion for cooking. I had two MOS's. My first was infantry, and my second was cooking." I asked him where he stayed and he said "I lived in what they called the barracks where I worked. When your mother came to Germany after she graduated, we got an appartment down the street and I walked to the Fort." I wanted to hear his daily routine, so i asked what happened on a daily basis in the Mess Hall? "The mess hall had a master menu posted up as soon as we walked into the kitchen. The men ate Breakfast, Dinner, and Supper. All of which would change daily." I asked him about all the things he saw in Germany. "Well let's see here, i got 30 days of leave per year and I served 2 years over there. I Saw Heidlberg, Amsterdam, and Holland. Your mother and I always rode the trollys going shopping. They had the best food over there." When asked his favorite food, he said "Ox Tail Soup" Yummy.

We both sat back in our kitchen chairs and looked at eachother with warm eyes. It felt good to know more about my dad's past. I looked into his tired, weary eyes seeing all of his memories inscribed in the wrinkles in his dark weathered skin. I knew he had gone through a lot. Just then, he got up from the table and said he'd be right back. When he returned to the table he handed me a chain and on it, were his dog tags from the army. "Keep these." he told me. "Maybe one day when you're 62, you can look back on your life story when you're talking to your kids, and remember mine. That's the true comparison."

Good Morning Frederick

You can always tell the difference between a 'morning' person, and a not so morning person. The look on their face is distinctive. A morning person's eyes are wide as they beeline their way through the Sheetz gas station on a Thursday morning. They quickly punch which kind of breakfast sandwich they want into the touch-screen computer, grab a large coffee, pick up their made-to-order food, and they are on their way. A non-morning person yawns about 5 times a minute and takes 3 times as long to figure out what they want from the gas station.

It's hard to not be a morning person at Sheetz though. As you pull into the building the first thing you'll always notice is red with a yellow stripe across the whole building. The majority of the people at Sheetz know what they want. They are in and out within minutes. Most people who just come to get gas simply swipe their card at the gas pump for even easier access. The first thing I noticed as I open my car door at Sheetz was the smell of coffee. Even from a distance outside the store. If i weren't awake before I pulled into Sheetz, I was now. Looking around, the energy was crazy. Everyone looked as if they were on a mission. I was thinking to myself, "This Sheetz is so much different from the one in Brunswick." because people who come into the local Sheetz in my town are always so laid back. This particular Sheetz was totally different. The Sheetz employees greeted me with a smile and a "Hello" as I walked in.

The colors of the inside are just as, if not even a little more, vibrant on the inside as they are outside. Lime green and squiggle designs cover the walls. To my right, a police man getting his large coffee for the day ahead of him, and to my left, a businessman getting his lunch for the day and also holding coffee in his hands. No one inside of this Sheetz was a non morning person. I knew this was because this particular Sheetz was placed in more of a city-like scene. Many people have business jobs in Frederick.

With one last look around I notice how organized Sheetz is. Associates are stocking things completely full, rapidly, because people are eager to buy them. Sections of the floor are being mopped so that they look shinier and cleaner. Many work associates came in together that morning as if they were good friends carpooling together. The atmosphere was very awake and surprisingly positive. I must have only seen 3 groggy looking, not-so-morning people. I chuckle because these people are exactly like me. The expression on their face looked as if they were almost saying "I don't do mornings". I guess it didn't help that those 3 people were all dragged into Sheetz by a morning person.

A Ticket To Ride

It was such a hot day for it being the beginning of June in 2007 when we boarded the plane. The humidity was ridiculous. Of course, that’s typical western Maryland summer weather. I wasn’t complaining standing in line while I handed the flight attendant my ticket. My neck was killing me from falling asleep inside Dulles airport for 2 hours, so it felt good to stand up and stretch for a bit. I wanted to be first to get on the plane because, well, words couldn’t explain how excited I was. With Sarah following right in tow, I found seats 22 and 23 and claimed the window seat. Grinning, she sighed, “Alright Zo, I’ll take that.” and plopped into the aisle seat. Her parents bee-lined for their seats across from us and crammed their carry-on items into the storage space above their heads. Peeling my eyes off of the mini window, I chuckled seeing Sarah’s dad sleeping like a rock about a minute after take off. Just then, I glanced at Sarah and read her mind as we both had a glisten of excitement twinkling in our eyes.

I could only watch out the window for so long admiring the farm fields and in-ground pools that looked like they were the size of a dime. Being on a plane for the first time wasn’t as exciting as I had planned on it being. I was disappointed that I got a wafer cookie instead of peanuts. The Coke in my plastic cup was getting warm so I threw it away and switched seats with Sarah until we got to Atlanta. I wished we didn’t have a layover, but I guess that’s how things just worked out and I didn’t care. All I wanted was to just be away from Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia and Pennsylvania. The airport was flooded with people of all colors. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. Everyone was bustling around, in and out. I’m glad we only had to stay in the airport for less than half an hour; I was starting to get a little bit claustrophobic from all the people. Dragging my feet, I followed Sarah and her parents to the next plane to Ft. Lauderdale and was so thankful I could just sleep for a little while. When we landed in Ft. Lauderdale, my heart was racing. I was craving sand between my toes, and clear blue water. When Sarah’s dad told me we still had a 3 hour drive ahead of us, all I could do was slump my shoulders and wait until we got our rental car, which turned out to be a plum purple PT Cruiser Convertible. Seeing that car made me smile because it was another first. First airplane ride, first trip out of the north east, first ride in a convertible; I loved it.

As we drove through Miami I couldn’t help but notice all of the brightly colored buildings and random little restaurants. About every five miles we would hit a rain cloud and be drenched with water so we kept the top of the convertible up the majority of the time. The bridge to Key West was literally 7 miles. I wasn’t going to sleep though, I wanted to see what I had came here for. Just as I was thinking how I’d never seen water so blue in my life, Sarah leaned over and exclaimed “This sure is a change up from Ocean City; agreed?” and all I could do was laugh and nod my head because she was so right.

The town was beautiful. I can’t even put into words how pretty it was. As we drove through town I planned on which house I wanted to be mine because I was set on moving here. We pulled up to the condo complex and read all the numbers on the front until we found ours. Sarah and I both bolted out of the car to grab our bags and get inside. We contemplated on which bedroom we wanted and picked the one with the more beachy design. Walking to the kitchen I noticed the sliding glass doors that took you out to the deck of our condo. I slid through one of them and sat down in a folding chair. To the left, a palm tree was blowing in the soft breeze. Looking over the deck I could see the shoreline and into the water, a few fish. I thought of dad and how much he would like fishing in saltwater. Flipping open my phone, I dialed home to tell mom and dad that we made it safely. Mom was pleased with my call, seeing as she wanted to talk for a good 45 minutes. All I wanted to do was get to the beach, and apparently Sarah did too walking up beside me on the deck in her striped bikini and beach towel. “Go get ready!” she yelped at me as she pushed me back inside to put on my bathing suit.

It was true. It was just like the pictures. The water was the most crystal blue thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. The sand was white and soft on my feet. I had a good chuckle seeing an actual beach bum laying by the palm trees trying to crack open a coconut. Sarah and I blew up a huge two person raft and floated in the calm water. I knew this was going to be the beginning to a great week.

It became a ritual. Smathers beach all day, Duval Street all night. I’d done some of the best shopping of my life on Duval Street. I was excited to come back home with 3 sundresses I knew no one else would have. Sarah and I met so many interesting people. A man who would take palm leaves and make things out of them like roses and hats. It was like a beach clown, without the scary multi-colored wig. We met two of our best friends, Mike and Jordan, on Smathers Beach. We all vowed we’d never forget about each other because it turned out that they lived in Baltimore so in some way or another, we’d all be able to see each other again.

As the last day approached, my tan was at its highest. My hair had turned almost blonde, and I thought I looked more and more like a beach bunny every day. Sarah looked the same as me, except taller, and more freckles; which disappointed her. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to put all my clothes in the drawers at the condo and move in for a good year. I didn’t want to board the plane from Ft. Lauderdale to Atlanta and have another layover again. But mostly I didn’t want to leave the atmosphere of Key West. Mike and Jordan waved as we pulled out of the condo complex. Sarah and my phones both buzzed about a minute later. A text message saying “Miss ya already” was enough to make me want to bawl like a little baby and throw a temper tantrum just to turn around and stay in Key West.

The air was yet again, sticky and hot in Frederick. I groaned. The dry hot weather was so much better, I thought in my head. Sarah didn’t look too pleased to be back in this town either. I knew how much of a great time we’d had and I didn’t want to let those memories go so we got out our digital cameras on the way home and looked at all the pictures we took. That was enough to make us smile. I got to a picture of all four of us, Jordan, Me, Sarah, and Mike with the beach as the backdrop, and I told Sarah, “This is definitely going to be the background on my computer when I get home.” She slapped me on the shoulder and yelled, “Me too! I was seriously just thinking that!” and we just sat back, in the small seats of the Dodge Dakota and glanced out the window to this muggy town. We were back for good now. All I could do was grin and bear it because I knew I’d never have another experience like that again. It seems like every time I recall the memory of Key West, I smile, and it feels great.

Music Is Where The Heart Is.

If I had to create a bumper sticker that modeled my philosophy for life, it would be "Music is where the heart is". I created this motto to better explain more or less what I live for. Most people would consider my motto a twist on words for the old saying "Home is where the heart is" but in reality, music is my home.

For the majority of the people in the world, home is a place where you can feel warm and safe. Which, don't get me wrong, I feel the same way too. Home is the only place I can go where I know things are safe, and also where I know the people I love are. But when I play music, I also feel the same sensations. It doesn't necessarily mean that I could be full on writing a song I created or playing a song someone else wrote; because I feel safe playing music even if it is strumming the same chord over and over again on the guitar. Honestly, that's the best thing to do when I feel stressed. Just to hear the sound of a melody helps to put me at ease.