I have one more month to finish this book.  I only have twenty-three pages left to make up an eighty page book plus the cover.  I made a nice recovery in the latter half of August to bring my total of work days up to seventeen.  I make it my goal to do at least seventeen or eighteen days a month on my book.  I only did four of fifteen days the first half of the month, so I really had to pour it one for the latter half.

The book in question is issue # 10 of Richy Vegas Comics: "The Consequences of Bringing Light, part 3."  I've talked about it in previous posts.  It concerns what has perhaps become the most pivotal time in my relationship with women. Losing my virginity at twenty-one constituted a pivotal moment to be sure, but that moment belongs to its time.  The events in issue #10 provide a template for how I relate to a certain type of woman that pays me a certain type of attention, and this way I related to one particular woman back then acts as a well that I still draw water from to this day.

 

Scoot On Over Buster
By Richy Vegas

Am:C:Dm:E7
B∇∆  B∇

Am
Well a man your age
Dm
Just wants to hit his spot
         E7
And maybe I had you all wrong
             Am              
And I don’t know what I’ve got.

Am
But a man my age
        Dm
He just wants him some peace
        E7
He couldn’t handle all this rage
           Am
He’d just want it to cease.

Am
It’s a hundred outside
      Dm
But ten below in here
E7
Did I ever call you beautiful
                            Am
You’d make a blind man better hear.

Am
Your smile lights up my darkest room
         Dm
You got it goin’ on
     E7
If pretty words and rhymes don’t do it
                    Am
What the hell, I wrote a song.

Chorus:
E7
Well scoot on over Buster
C
It’s the doghouse for old Rich
           Dm 
This ain’t no time for callin’ names
             E7                    Am
Or I’ll wind up in a ditch.

What is on your mind
You’re a cipher to me
I think it’s kind of silly now
I hardly know you you see.

You can take your pick of men
Now that’s nothing new
Well I’ve hardly got your options
Me I’m just a tub of goo.

Maybe I had you all wrong dear 
You got it goin’ on
If pretty words and rhymes don’t do it
What the hell I wrote a song.

Chorus:
Well scoot on over Buster
It’s the doghouse for old Rich 
This ain’t no time for callin’ names
Or I’ll wind up in a ditch.

Richard Alexander
8/5/2015


 

If anyone who has read any recent blog entries and found offense, I apologize.  I did not mean to do anything hurtful.  If there ever comes a day when we may openly discuss any of my blog entries, I will be open to anything anyone says.

One Saturday night last September, I patronized a business that I regularly patronized, and suddenly came to the realization, "It's on."  Specifically, that I would have to field "psycho-flirtations" from employees of this business and try to figure out where this attention was coming from and what is was about.  I cannot tell one how frightening this prospect seemed to me, because my mental illness causes me to doubt my perceptions of this kind of attention in the first place.  Not only did I have to figure out whether this stuff was for real or not, I had to make an intelligent decision about a young woman that all of this attention was "about."

Unlike "normal" people, I have to fight for my right to patronize a restaurant, coffee shop, grocery store or any place I regularly go because I am different.  It seems as if all I have to do is talk a little about myself to a waitress or barista or some such, and people consider that sufficient provocation to pay a kind of attention to me that I don't like.

I treat it like a civil rights issue; it's as if I'm a black man in the Jim Crow South.  I try to assert through my actions and manner and overall behavior my right to patronize said business.  As long as I don't bother anyone and I conduct myself in a appropriate manner, I should be able to patronize the above mentioned kinds of places without anyone bothering me.

With that in mind, I try to refrain from having love interests in the form of employees of the above-mentioned businesses.  I don't want to be seen as someone who has an agenda other than the one I mentioned.  It undermines my civil rights goals.