Thank you, Miami! Dear David...p.4
- Thread starter Reid2
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Im confused why you were beaten by the police, what was the reason, what were you doing at the time it happend?
n, there were many arrests.
The first arrest was not deserved, even though I was a minor drug user at the time.
The cops set me up for a faked-premise traffic stop, so they could search my car, and me.
I protested the false-premise arrest. If you are American, you cannot be stopped by cops on mere suspicion.
This premise, whether the suspect proves to be guilty of possession or not, separates us from Nazism.
We must guard civil rights of civilians, over the ease of cops to make busts for fun and profit, as they do.
Paraphrase of a long-ago friend, now a Miami Dade County judge, Mark King Leban, met about one month after the 6 Nov 2008 first-arrest,
"Whatever you do, Reid, don't complain about this to Miami Police Internal Affairs Investigations. You will never be forgiven and never be left alone."
"I have to register complaint, Mark. It's wrong, what they did."
"Oh, Reid, just give it up. Please don't make waves."
Waves are part of nature, Mark. I will phone, as I do not have your email. I will tell you of this thread, too.
Silence of yourself and your peers is getting old and stale, now, Judge Leban, Commissioner Sarnoff, Chief Yam and Chief Hot Dog.
The world is reading and wondering why cops and rubbers do not talk in public, nor allow a damaged man his day in court.
No lawyer will talk to me. Who knows the meaning of the word "rigged" better than a cop beating survivor?
http://freewrights.freeforums.org/for-jody-and-her-friend-sandy-see-page-two-in-progress-t2051.html
It is not defamation to tell the truth.
It saves lives to tell the truth.
We must never kill anyone, not in body, nor spirit, ever again, please.
Sometime I want you to meet Cleveland, folks.
He is one of the world's only one-legged bicyclists. He lives in Coconut Grove.
Cleveland does not clip-in. He prefers a regular bike with a platform pedal.
Six bullets did not kill Cleveland. I may be off on the count, but not off about Cleveland.
I would like to ask Cleveland why he rides a regular comfort or mountain or cruiser bike and not a fixed gear like 1898 or 2011?
I think his answer would prove interesting. Cleveland does not clip in, and I doubt he has ever heard of a fixie, other than what it is to get in a scrape with cops or other gangsters.
.
The first arrest was not deserved, even though I was a minor drug user at the time.
The cops set me up for a faked-premise traffic stop, so they could search my car, and me.
I protested the false-premise arrest. If you are American, you cannot be stopped by cops on mere suspicion.
This premise, whether the suspect proves to be guilty of possession or not, separates us from Nazism.
We must guard civil rights of civilians, over the ease of cops to make busts for fun and profit, as they do.
Paraphrase of a long-ago friend, now a Miami Dade County judge, Mark King Leban, met about one month after the 6 Nov 2008 first-arrest,
"Whatever you do, Reid, don't complain about this to Miami Police Internal Affairs Investigations. You will never be forgiven and never be left alone."
"I have to register complaint, Mark. It's wrong, what they did."
"Oh, Reid, just give it up. Please don't make waves."
Waves are part of nature, Mark. I will phone, as I do not have your email. I will tell you of this thread, too.
Silence of yourself and your peers is getting old and stale, now, Judge Leban, Commissioner Sarnoff, Chief Yam and Chief Hot Dog.
The world is reading and wondering why cops and rubbers do not talk in public, nor allow a damaged man his day in court.
No lawyer will talk to me. Who knows the meaning of the word "rigged" better than a cop beating survivor?
http://freewrights.freeforums.org/for-jody-and-her-friend-sandy-see-page-two-in-progress-t2051.html
It is not defamation to tell the truth.
It saves lives to tell the truth.
We must never kill anyone, not in body, nor spirit, ever again, please.
Sometime I want you to meet Cleveland, folks.
He is one of the world's only one-legged bicyclists. He lives in Coconut Grove.
Cleveland does not clip-in. He prefers a regular bike with a platform pedal.
Six bullets did not kill Cleveland. I may be off on the count, but not off about Cleveland.
I would like to ask Cleveland why he rides a regular comfort or mountain or cruiser bike and not a fixed gear like 1898 or 2011?
I think his answer would prove interesting. Cleveland does not clip in, and I doubt he has ever heard of a fixie, other than what it is to get in a scrape with cops or other gangsters.
.
n, and this is key, as no lawyer so far will even talk to since 06 Nov. 2008, it is time we all played on the same field. Are cops the law, or lawyers, or lawless?
Sandy arrived here the other day with Jody. Sandy is blond and female and buff. She threatened me. "My husband is a COP!" I told her to bite me, in effect.
She nearly did. Jody stopped her. Thank you, Miami!
Sandy arrived here the other day with Jody. Sandy is blond and female and buff. She threatened me. "My husband is a COP!" I told her to bite me, in effect.
She nearly did. Jody stopped her. Thank you, Miami!
Chief dogs, and President Obama too, you know about this thread.
You know about my example of cop beating violence. You know I am not a liar.
The world is reading the truth.
http://freewrights.freeforums.org/post10219.html#p10219
The swearing-in of Chief Yam of Miami, while my former best-buddy,
Commissioner Marc "David" Sarnoff, stands by like a political toady.
Chief Yam, when you "started" in 1974, I was serving active duty in the USN.
When I came home at the end of that year, I asked, to learn if Miami was hiring young men as prospective cops.
Nope, not hiring Anglos in that recession year.
I say this over and again. We do not have a color or culture issue here.
It is a male-aggression issue. Women may yell, but they never thug people. They rarely rob.
I tell the women of our police departments, often, "you have the power to train your men."
The "blue code of silence" is the most evil convention in modern society, in my opinion. Think.
We are not owned by gangsters, not the badged ones nor the plain-clothes boys out of the blue.
You know about my example of cop beating violence. You know I am not a liar.
The world is reading the truth.
http://freewrights.freeforums.org/post10219.html#p10219
The swearing-in of Chief Yam of Miami, while my former best-buddy,
Commissioner Marc "David" Sarnoff, stands by like a political toady.
Chief Yam, when you "started" in 1974, I was serving active duty in the USN.
When I came home at the end of that year, I asked, to learn if Miami was hiring young men as prospective cops.
Nope, not hiring Anglos in that recession year.
I say this over and again. We do not have a color or culture issue here.
It is a male-aggression issue. Women may yell, but they never thug people. They rarely rob.
I tell the women of our police departments, often, "you have the power to train your men."
The "blue code of silence" is the most evil convention in modern society, in my opinion. Think.
We are not owned by gangsters, not the badged ones nor the plain-clothes boys out of the blue.
My father never made an enemy. Everybody loved my dad, though he was a determined failure, like I have become, too.
I asked my dad in early 1975 if I could maybe get a job as a cop, as I liked the prospect of helping people. Or a fireman,
as I was a fireman in the Navy. My dad made inside inquiries. He knew many key people.
"Sorry, son, they are not hiring these days." It was understood why.
I still remember and love like he were my father, my first real boss, Jose Rodriquez.
He was of Cuba. The summer of 1972, high school finished, the Navy waited.
Washing planes and offices too, under Jose's guidance.
No one can ever say I am anti-anyone; am anti-bully, is all.
The trouble we have is not black, white or brown; it is male, and it is inherently malevolent.
~~~
The surprise lunch. A cake bought by Jose. A semi-circle of Cubans shaking my hands.
The red lettering on the white round, reads, "Goo Look Ree".
(((I am looking out today at you, mi padre, Jose))
I asked my dad in early 1975 if I could maybe get a job as a cop, as I liked the prospect of helping people. Or a fireman,
as I was a fireman in the Navy. My dad made inside inquiries. He knew many key people.
"Sorry, son, they are not hiring these days." It was understood why.
I still remember and love like he were my father, my first real boss, Jose Rodriquez.
He was of Cuba. The summer of 1972, high school finished, the Navy waited.
Washing planes and offices too, under Jose's guidance.
No one can ever say I am anti-anyone; am anti-bully, is all.
The trouble we have is not black, white or brown; it is male, and it is inherently malevolent.
~~~
The surprise lunch. A cake bought by Jose. A semi-circle of Cubans shaking my hands.
The red lettering on the white round, reads, "Goo Look Ree".
(((I am looking out today at you, mi padre, Jose))
You understand, Chiefs Yammer and Stammer of Miami and Coral Gables cops, respectively,
I do not tell lies. And you? Chief Stammer (Weiner), do you know (no), my father was born within visual sight line of your office, in the year 1927
at Coral Gables Hospital, one block away. Chief Exposito (I call you "Yam" for your resemblance), do you know that I am closely connected with Cuba
and with Latins, in general? Do you know my father's father was a close personal friend of Hemingway, who is also a close friend of Cuba?
Do you care for the truth, Chiefs? No. You want a quiet Saturday, Sunday, and so on, forever more. Ain't gonna happen.
My first cousin, Chiefs, speaking on the very day my grandfather dropped dead of a heart attack, May 6th, 1945, see the dagger there too?
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
See the picture containing the dagger and the original obituary with time stamp? See the date of the broadcast? I did not post that broadcast.
It is called "co-incidence", I guess.
"The easiest way for a criminal to escape is to put out the word that he is dead."
(((my grandfather died at 2PM EST. Drew must have been drafting his text at that hour but could not have known about P. B. Welch's death till hours later.
Paul Brown Welch was born in Kansas, 1889, died one week after ******. Oh, and so, what year was ****** born? (1889)
Chiefs? You may think I am not cool. However, everybody alive must consider P. B. was cool. After all, look what he invented in his hobby-time:
http://www.google.com/search?q=p+b+welch&btnG=Search+Patents&tbm=pts&tbo=1&hl=en
The invention of the portable, window air conditioner.
Point, chiefs, I am not a piker, idiot, liar, thief or bad boy nor bad man. I am pretty cool or I'd be ugly-dead long ago.
Reid
PS: I look at Luis, Brandon, Will and also at all the guys and women of The Home Depot, almost all of whom talk to me and give me comfort for my worries.
I do not tell lies. And you? Chief Stammer (Weiner), do you know (no), my father was born within visual sight line of your office, in the year 1927
at Coral Gables Hospital, one block away. Chief Exposito (I call you "Yam" for your resemblance), do you know that I am closely connected with Cuba
and with Latins, in general? Do you know my father's father was a close personal friend of Hemingway, who is also a close friend of Cuba?
Do you care for the truth, Chiefs? No. You want a quiet Saturday, Sunday, and so on, forever more. Ain't gonna happen.
My first cousin, Chiefs, speaking on the very day my grandfather dropped dead of a heart attack, May 6th, 1945, see the dagger there too?
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
See the picture containing the dagger and the original obituary with time stamp? See the date of the broadcast? I did not post that broadcast.
It is called "co-incidence", I guess.
"The easiest way for a criminal to escape is to put out the word that he is dead."
(((my grandfather died at 2PM EST. Drew must have been drafting his text at that hour but could not have known about P. B. Welch's death till hours later.
Paul Brown Welch was born in Kansas, 1889, died one week after ******. Oh, and so, what year was ****** born? (1889)
Chiefs? You may think I am not cool. However, everybody alive must consider P. B. was cool. After all, look what he invented in his hobby-time:
http://www.google.com/search?q=p+b+welch&btnG=Search+Patents&tbm=pts&tbo=1&hl=en
The invention of the portable, window air conditioner.
Point, chiefs, I am not a piker, idiot, liar, thief or bad boy nor bad man. I am pretty cool or I'd be ugly-dead long ago.
Reid
PS: I look at Luis, Brandon, Will and also at all the guys and women of The Home Depot, almost all of whom talk to me and give me comfort for my worries.
PB Welch MD suffered heart trouble, I heard, and went to the hospital in sight of Chief Stammer's office of today.
PB was doing alright, they thought. He was dictating a letter to his secretary in the hospital room on Sunday afternoon, trying to catch up.
"Dear xxxx, I am doing well and expect to be back to the office very soo..."
It is my great fear today, not that it matters anymore, that Dr. Welch died right there in the house, without warning, just as reported by the Ponce school paper.
"...of a sudden heart attack." The dagger fell from the nearby bathroom ceiling almost fifty nine years later, and was put into my hands on May 6th, 2004.
Inasmuch as I grew up in PB's home from my age of eleven onward, I can understand if my father wanted me to accept a fiction, and not think that PB died
right next to his family forever.
PB was doing alright, they thought. He was dictating a letter to his secretary in the hospital room on Sunday afternoon, trying to catch up.
"Dear xxxx, I am doing well and expect to be back to the office very soo..."
It is my great fear today, not that it matters anymore, that Dr. Welch died right there in the house, without warning, just as reported by the Ponce school paper.
"...of a sudden heart attack." The dagger fell from the nearby bathroom ceiling almost fifty nine years later, and was put into my hands on May 6th, 2004.
Inasmuch as I grew up in PB's home from my age of eleven onward, I can understand if my father wanted me to accept a fiction, and not think that PB died
right next to his family forever.
PREJUDICE
A few hours ago I rode the recently-recovered Trek Lime to The Home Depot, to buy some gas and also to get a meal at the adjacent Taco Bell.
I went to eat a $2.14 Meal Deal first. I parked the Trek Lime inside the restaurant, out of the way, as the store keepers allow this courtesy.
Two Black teenagers entered the restaurant and were ogling the bike. Feared a grab-and-ride, and the bike was not locked.
Nothing happened though. They were just interested in the unusual looking bike. From there I went to The Home Depot.
"Reid?" says Luis, a young associate there. "One of our managers saw your bike that day two weeks ago when you forgot to lock it.
It was being ridden away from the store here at high speed by a young guy. The manager was returning from lunch. He chased after the bike, but lost him."
Was the thief of the bike, Black, by any chance, Luis?
"No. He was a Latino boy."
Boys will be impetuous. Old boys like me will be fools.
A few hours ago I rode the recently-recovered Trek Lime to The Home Depot, to buy some gas and also to get a meal at the adjacent Taco Bell.
I went to eat a $2.14 Meal Deal first. I parked the Trek Lime inside the restaurant, out of the way, as the store keepers allow this courtesy.
Two Black teenagers entered the restaurant and were ogling the bike. Feared a grab-and-ride, and the bike was not locked.
Nothing happened though. They were just interested in the unusual looking bike. From there I went to The Home Depot.
"Reid?" says Luis, a young associate there. "One of our managers saw your bike that day two weeks ago when you forgot to lock it.
It was being ridden away from the store here at high speed by a young guy. The manager was returning from lunch. He chased after the bike, but lost him."
Was the thief of the bike, Black, by any chance, Luis?
"No. He was a Latino boy."
Boys will be impetuous. Old boys like me will be fools.
Point: this is inherently a male aggression issue.
When was the last time you heard,
"I left my bike unattended for just a moment. Suddenly, a girl appeared from nowhere,
hopped on my bike and stole it!"
: )
(((girls do not steal bikes or beat civilians or extort people for drugs or money)))
When was the last time you heard,
"I left my bike unattended for just a moment. Suddenly, a girl appeared from nowhere,
hopped on my bike and stole it!"
: )
(((girls do not steal bikes or beat civilians or extort people for drugs or money)))
Fake News Item
: _)
Miami Police announced today the discovery and dissolution of the Pretty Pink bicycle theft ring.
In a Coconut Grove warehouse, police found a cache of over three hundred girly bikes, most with wicker baskets
and Hello Kitty paint motifs. The bikes were collected, apparently, by a ring of numerous tough girls on hormones.
The bikes will be returned to their owners as soon as authorities figure out which ones they want to keep for their own use.
: _)
Miami Police announced today the discovery and dissolution of the Pretty Pink bicycle theft ring.
In a Coconut Grove warehouse, police found a cache of over three hundred girly bikes, most with wicker baskets
and Hello Kitty paint motifs. The bikes were collected, apparently, by a ring of numerous tough girls on hormones.
The bikes will be returned to their owners as soon as authorities figure out which ones they want to keep for their own use.
Froze, cops, forum readers,
please understand, when I "quote" someone like Luis, his quote for instance,
is a perfect example of how I must "paraphrase". I cannot perfectly quote even Luis,
though our conversation is so recent as to be very fresh in mind. The talk was not "linear".
I have to select the key points and rephrase them to make a cogent "quote" of Luis.
Point: the store manager saw my bike being ridden away from the vicinity of THD.
He presumed it had just been stolen, but did not know for sure. He tried to give chase but lost the chase.
The bike thief was not Black, but was a Hispanic or Latino youth. I am glad of that. I never sensed that any Black person
would steal that bike, so well-known as it is in the Grove. Of course, if you leave something unattended, what is a young man to do?
Males act on impulse, especially when young. It's in our programming. "Morality" is no guarantee of "honesty". The two sixteen year old or so,
Black youths at Taco Bell ogled the bike and looked at me in my stupid, bright lime-yellow safety shirt. I felt I was being sized up. Distances were getting
triangulated and calculations made. That is, in my imagination, I was adjudging how fast either of them could move to grab my unlocked bike,
versus, how much faster I could get to my bike and kick in the head of anyone trying to take my bike. You see? I am thief-shy. The boys tonight were mere innocents.
please understand, when I "quote" someone like Luis, his quote for instance,
is a perfect example of how I must "paraphrase". I cannot perfectly quote even Luis,
though our conversation is so recent as to be very fresh in mind. The talk was not "linear".
I have to select the key points and rephrase them to make a cogent "quote" of Luis.
Point: the store manager saw my bike being ridden away from the vicinity of THD.
He presumed it had just been stolen, but did not know for sure. He tried to give chase but lost the chase.
The bike thief was not Black, but was a Hispanic or Latino youth. I am glad of that. I never sensed that any Black person
would steal that bike, so well-known as it is in the Grove. Of course, if you leave something unattended, what is a young man to do?
Males act on impulse, especially when young. It's in our programming. "Morality" is no guarantee of "honesty". The two sixteen year old or so,
Black youths at Taco Bell ogled the bike and looked at me in my stupid, bright lime-yellow safety shirt. I felt I was being sized up. Distances were getting
triangulated and calculations made. That is, in my imagination, I was adjudging how fast either of them could move to grab my unlocked bike,
versus, how much faster I could get to my bike and kick in the head of anyone trying to take my bike. You see? I am thief-shy. The boys tonight were mere innocents.
It is immoral, but not fattening, to kick in the head of a bicycle thief as he tries to take your bicycle.
It is not immoral, but it is fattening, to eat a full meal at Taco Bell. Yummm.
The two Black boys stared at me and stared at my bike parked near the front door.
That's all that happened. I would not hurt a fly, so to speak, though, would kick in a head, maybe....
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Minors get particular respect from me (glares)
because I do not want sexual overtones ever to enter the equation.
If a parent is present, then the child would be welcome even to test-ride the bike.
As it was, two unescorted, muscular teen boys, putting hard looks to the bike, and then to me, and smiling, wanly,
all gave signals that I would not return with weak smiles, myself. I stared at my bike, and glanced at them, and stared at my bike again. It worked.
Thus is the nature of Predudice
There were, fact, two Black boys, young men they were, perhaps sixteen, at Taco Bell, all just as I related above.
There were, fact, two Black boys, young men they were, perhaps sixteen, perhaps eighteen, standing above me in June, 1972, snorting in derision,
"GUESS which one of us hit you?" They laugh.
I bear a scar anyone can see. It is small scar over one eyebrow.
One of the two Black boys nearly forty years ago split my skin with a blunt object, from behind.
I nearly lost an eye.
I forgive.
__________________________________
Froze, cops, others: the event above, the scar above my eye, can be documented by investigators, surely.
It happened just that way. The boys were laughing to beat the band. The one in the white, woven T-shirt with the piped neck and arm seams
(see how photographic a trauma memory can be?) was the attacker, pretty surely, for he was the one who taunted me, my head reeling,
I'm on the ground, on my back, "Just guess, try to guess, which one of us hit you! Ha ha!"
Jackson Memorial High School, first day of Summer School session, 1972.
My last day, ever, of public school.....I would not get the needed credit, not from Dade County public schools.
What happened? That all-Black school was suddenly influxed with white and other children, total strangers.
That event, a money-saving "let's put all the summer slackers together", move, caused a natural upheaval, a territorial response.
You see? The boys were not 'racists', per se. They saw me and other youths as probable usurpers of their school.
A number of other students were smacked-down at the same time, by the same pair, we think. It was random hatred,
a =male aggression issue=, not "racism", per se. That said, I was white and did not belong in their school. That much was implied.
Yet, what else could they think? CONSIDER what they grew up with? Do you see why it is impossible to =not= forgive?
___________________________________________________
No man is guilty who has a conscience in reserve
___________________________________________________
It is not immoral, but it is fattening, to eat a full meal at Taco Bell. Yummm.
The two Black boys stared at me and stared at my bike parked near the front door.
That's all that happened. I would not hurt a fly, so to speak, though, would kick in a head, maybe....
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Minors get particular respect from me (glares)
because I do not want sexual overtones ever to enter the equation.
If a parent is present, then the child would be welcome even to test-ride the bike.
As it was, two unescorted, muscular teen boys, putting hard looks to the bike, and then to me, and smiling, wanly,
all gave signals that I would not return with weak smiles, myself. I stared at my bike, and glanced at them, and stared at my bike again. It worked.
Thus is the nature of Predudice
There were, fact, two Black boys, young men they were, perhaps sixteen, at Taco Bell, all just as I related above.
There were, fact, two Black boys, young men they were, perhaps sixteen, perhaps eighteen, standing above me in June, 1972, snorting in derision,
"GUESS which one of us hit you?" They laugh.
I bear a scar anyone can see. It is small scar over one eyebrow.
One of the two Black boys nearly forty years ago split my skin with a blunt object, from behind.
I nearly lost an eye.
I forgive.
__________________________________
Froze, cops, others: the event above, the scar above my eye, can be documented by investigators, surely.
It happened just that way. The boys were laughing to beat the band. The one in the white, woven T-shirt with the piped neck and arm seams
(see how photographic a trauma memory can be?) was the attacker, pretty surely, for he was the one who taunted me, my head reeling,
I'm on the ground, on my back, "Just guess, try to guess, which one of us hit you! Ha ha!"
Jackson Memorial High School, first day of Summer School session, 1972.
My last day, ever, of public school.....I would not get the needed credit, not from Dade County public schools.
What happened? That all-Black school was suddenly influxed with white and other children, total strangers.
That event, a money-saving "let's put all the summer slackers together", move, caused a natural upheaval, a territorial response.
You see? The boys were not 'racists', per se. They saw me and other youths as probable usurpers of their school.
A number of other students were smacked-down at the same time, by the same pair, we think. It was random hatred,
a =male aggression issue=, not "racism", per se. That said, I was white and did not belong in their school. That much was implied.
Yet, what else could they think? CONSIDER what they grew up with? Do you see why it is impossible to =not= forgive?
___________________________________________________
No man is guilty who has a conscience in reserve
___________________________________________________
Now it is hours later since my last meal, the meal at Taco Bell, when and where the two Black youths saw my bike and stared and wanly grinned.
I realize now, they very likely knew the bike, for some months ago, I loaned it for one week to my friend in Little Gables, for his son to ride and enjoy.
The youth loved the bike. So did all the kids who saw the Trek Lime. "You had better keep that bike locked, Reid", said my pal. "Everybody looks at it with hunger."
I would wish, in a perfect world, to give the bike to two teen boys, while I ate my little meal, "Here, take turns riding it around the block. I can't bike and eat at the same time."
Trust and love is something we all try to aspire to. I failed again, you see?
I realize now, they very likely knew the bike, for some months ago, I loaned it for one week to my friend in Little Gables, for his son to ride and enjoy.
The youth loved the bike. So did all the kids who saw the Trek Lime. "You had better keep that bike locked, Reid", said my pal. "Everybody looks at it with hunger."
I would wish, in a perfect world, to give the bike to two teen boys, while I ate my little meal, "Here, take turns riding it around the block. I can't bike and eat at the same time."
Trust and love is something we all try to aspire to. I failed again, you see?
Dear Judith Kreeger, retired judge, and wife of my old mentor and employer, attorney Julian Kreeger.
I was enthralled to see you by chance at The Home Depot one hour ago, you were in the check out line,
and I had not seen you since Betty's funeral. Am so happy that Julian is doing OK. He and you mean so much to me.
I thank you for all the early help you two gave to my life. I am sorry I have brought sorrows.
Reid
____________________________________
I am grieving again. I will not eat, I have not eaten since the meal last told about above.
A day without food will not hurt me. A life without friends, though, shall kill me. I alienated people by telling the truth.
However, I did not arrest or Baker Act, nor beat my head up. Cops did that. Hello Beth? I am thinking of you daily too.
I was enthralled to see you by chance at The Home Depot one hour ago, you were in the check out line,
and I had not seen you since Betty's funeral. Am so happy that Julian is doing OK. He and you mean so much to me.
I thank you for all the early help you two gave to my life. I am sorry I have brought sorrows.
Reid
____________________________________
I am grieving again. I will not eat, I have not eaten since the meal last told about above.
A day without food will not hurt me. A life without friends, though, shall kill me. I alienated people by telling the truth.
However, I did not arrest or Baker Act, nor beat my head up. Cops did that. Hello Beth? I am thinking of you daily too.
Julian and Judy, I lose count of the number of times you had me stay-on for dinner.
I was merely your piano tuner. You always made me feel like family. I recall your "BaldWay" piano.
Julian? Recall the fallboard transfer I applied, to make your Steinway into a "Baldwin"?
Jack Romann and all of folks in New York, and Miami and all parts in between, adore you. So do I .
http://www.nytimes.com/1987/05/06/obituaries/jack-romann-aided-pianists-as-representative-of-baldwin.html
Dear Judy, Dear Julian. I love you so much...but, I hurt you, too.
I am sorry, for, I hurt Ivan Davis, too. I hurt everybody, it is in my "programming", perhaps....
Love is needed here and can be given in return, gratis.
Reid
For my godson of a miracle all people call Jamal.
Dear friends, meet Ivor Novello, the creator of the song above.
Novello was also an actor, besides being a playwright and song wright.
He was favored by Hitchcock for his power to invoke simultaneous
magnetism and repulsion.
Shall we ever find that land of might-have-been?
This is for Judith Kreeger and her Julian, who have always been summery, such gentle caretakers.
Men can be good actors, or bad, exactly as they choose.
Dear Julian and Judy, I love you, and met you today, Judy, for a vital reason. Like Jody, you are beloved.
You are all beginning to understand? There are no accidents in this unwinding thread.
PS: When The Kreegers adopted me as their piano technician and friend, the year was...1978 or so,
and I am just a youth. And they are the cutest, nicest couple I know, even today. Loves, remember me?
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg28/Reid_Welch/reidlongago-1.jpg
Judith is as adorable as always will be
I was merely your piano tuner. You always made me feel like family. I recall your "BaldWay" piano.
Julian? Recall the fallboard transfer I applied, to make your Steinway into a "Baldwin"?
Jack Romann and all of folks in New York, and Miami and all parts in between, adore you. So do I .
http://www.nytimes.com/1987/05/06/obituaries/jack-romann-aided-pianists-as-representative-of-baldwin.html
Dear Judy, Dear Julian. I love you so much...but, I hurt you, too.
I am sorry, for, I hurt Ivan Davis, too. I hurt everybody, it is in my "programming", perhaps....
Love is needed here and can be given in return, gratis.
Reid
For my godson of a miracle all people call Jamal.
Dear friends, meet Ivor Novello, the creator of the song above.
Novello was also an actor, besides being a playwright and song wright.
He was favored by Hitchcock for his power to invoke simultaneous
magnetism and repulsion.
Shall we ever find that land of might-have-been?
This is for Judith Kreeger and her Julian, who have always been summery, such gentle caretakers.
Men can be good actors, or bad, exactly as they choose.
Dear Julian and Judy, I love you, and met you today, Judy, for a vital reason. Like Jody, you are beloved.
You are all beginning to understand? There are no accidents in this unwinding thread.
PS: When The Kreegers adopted me as their piano technician and friend, the year was...1978 or so,
and I am just a youth. And they are the cutest, nicest couple I know, even today. Loves, remember me?
http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg28/Reid_Welch/reidlongago-1.jpg
Judith is as adorable as always will be
Goals: small pocket money, sure, so I can give small gifts to poor people, and also drive a car again legally.
Goal: no more cop-bullies anywhere in the world.
A foundation, run by people we trust, like the Kreegers and the Gates family, The Fuller Foundation, or some such name,
to help clean and repair damaged people everywhere. Cops and robbers and all are part of the repair process now, I hope.
There is a Hispanic youth in Miami who feels guilt for stealing my Trek Lime Lite, and then selling it to a nice couple who did not know.
I forgive the junior thief, and I owe the couple he victimized, for the return of my bike. See how it works, to say, "I am sorry" ?
Who is this poster boy today? Who else has an empty stomach and aching heart?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marc, Teresa, Chiefs, all, do you understand,
everything can be repaired or improved, except for death:
PS: I created Whimsel Browsel from myself
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/60749/
Goal: no more cop-bullies anywhere in the world.
A foundation, run by people we trust, like the Kreegers and the Gates family, The Fuller Foundation, or some such name,
to help clean and repair damaged people everywhere. Cops and robbers and all are part of the repair process now, I hope.
There is a Hispanic youth in Miami who feels guilt for stealing my Trek Lime Lite, and then selling it to a nice couple who did not know.
I forgive the junior thief, and I owe the couple he victimized, for the return of my bike. See how it works, to say, "I am sorry" ?
Who is this poster boy today? Who else has an empty stomach and aching heart?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marc, Teresa, Chiefs, all, do you understand,
everything can be repaired or improved, except for death:
PS: I created Whimsel Browsel from myself
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/60749/
Highgear Cycling in Coconut Grove, Miami, Florida, recovered my lost Trek Lime Lite. Miami Police assisted. Thanks go to all involved. Thanks to the innocent buyers of my stolen bike, for returning it without complaint. I owe you a reward. Thank you too to the young fellow who stole the bike, for you will never steal again, please? You are not =really= a bad boy...no, you simply had a weak moment with an unlocked bike. It was half my fault.
Thank you again, to Ricky, Gustavo, Jenny and all the crew at Highgear Cycling, you are heroes.
http://www.highgearcycling.com/
And thank you, too, to the cops who advised me of the bike recovery. I was not gracious at the time,
but you both understand now, perhaps, that I have been warped by past events.
Thank you to the other two cops who aided Jody G. the other day.
You were exemplary, gentle, too. Thank you both again.
Reid...
...say, a gentle reminder, when girls go bad they are ten times worse than boys
"I hope I get arrested..."
Whatever will we do with all the babies born in 1961 of bad girls?
------------------------------------
Dear cops, community leaders, for contrast and illustration,
here is an example of a boy gone wrong,
despite excellent mothering ( it is a dramatization : )
Dear retired Judge Judith Kreeger,
you looked at me yesterday morning inside The Home Depot,
as if I were something terrible. I am only Reid, and I love you.
I have eaten very little this past day and a half. Two, thirty three cent
packs of dried noodles, one in chicken powder flavor, the other, beef.
Slaps of rain run down his cheeks,
he ducks inside the improvement store,
rolling a bicycle by hand...the counter,
new surprises crop for two, "Hello, Judy."
His shirt is lime, his face is red,
his bike's all wet and black and orange.
A clash like that should be illegal,
but facts are facts, and simply level.
Dear Earl, first classical pianist ever to perform on television in the USA, 1939,
here, I owe you for so much, and so do so many listeners.
Your Baldwin boy, your tuner in accord,
Reid
_____________________________________________
Dear David,
I was with you in concert the night Golda died. You carried on, somehow,
just like the champion for Israel and the world that you forever are, dear David,
The son must become his father,
The daughter must become mother,
http://www.youtube.com/user/ValentinaLisitsa
Dearest Valentina and Alexei, I miss your home cooking and care for this lost soul.
R.
http://www.valentinalisitsa.com/duets.php
I remember our bonds, more than twenty years now....In 1991, the duo was awarded the first prize in the 3rd International Murray Dranoff Two Piano Competition,
galvanizing audience, jurors and critics alike. Shortly after their victory in Miami, Lisitsa and Kuznetsoff made their home in the United States...
et tu,
Julian and Judy? Over thirty....
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