By: NTHA419133 on 8/20/12
Your journalistic style is impeccable, Mike! Both enticing and provocative, I find myself curiously “wanting” more, more from you, and sure, a tiny piece for me, as well. I am an absolutist, sometimes, and am sure that you will not mind.

The word “extraordinary” can often times be misinterpreted, or, at least, untouched in its official, syntonic meaning. What I am referring to is Mike’s encounter with the undeniable, disturbing unknown. I, too, have a story to tell about an “extraordinary” happenstance with an unknown. It goes something like this:

First, I would like to thank God for my unsullied memory for details, for without them, the details, of course, I would have never first known, then recalled, and later, “figured out” the remarkable, fantastic, and unnerving chain of events I am about to tell you. (Extraordinary is the perfect word, in this case.)

On January 15, 2010, I made the conscious decision to go to a bar, a bar that I had not been to in over five years, and, the last bar I had been to in over ten years. As we all know, especially in the bar community, age is a factor: a big, lingering, and fragrant—if I may—odor, especially when one begins stealing looks at 35, (I was 48 at the time, and holding on to every square foot of said, lower 48—pun intended—that I could grab a hold of), if you are lucky, that is. Personally, I think luck is just another word for “nothing left to lose.” (My admiration and respect go to Kris and Janis. I am sure you understand.)

Strangely, I will spare Mike’s readers with the chimerical—for lack of a better word— details of my intriguing, albeit traumatic liaison, with a person that is, according to them, “Capable of making anyone fall in love with them,” or, with blackness in them their eyes, “making anyone hate them.”

When this person said this to me, yes, it felt awkward and supernatural; suddenly, I knew what “bone-chilling” felt like, an icy quiver ran up and down my spine, but I was mesmerized, hooked, like a fish on a line, with nowhere to go but into the hands of The Devil. I belonged to them; they had power of me; they could pull my strings and watch me dance, in or out of the frying pan, whichever instrument they chose to use to have their way with me.

There is a song, first written and performed by Roberta Flack, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” that does a sufficient job, both lyrically and musically, of what this person did to me, and how I felt when "they made me fall in love with them.”

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies

The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hands
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was then at my command
My love.

Later, as they had warned me, they also “made me hate them.”

Although my response may not have to do a lot with Mike’s article, he did make me think about a time in my life when I was uncertain of not only my “self,” but also unsure of God—but mostly, enigmatically terrified of man.

This time since has past. Strange occurrences and events happen each day we wake up. We are not supposed to, or required, for that matter, to know all the answers, if we, indeed, believe in the most beautiful book ever written. I am no longer afraid.

Last week, as I was writing a response to Mike’s article, I was unfocused and out of balance, and for that, I am sorry. However, I am comforted in the idea that this week’s response comes from a focused place, a place that I visit quite frequently, a poised and humble place that brings me solace.

By the way, I am no longer involved with this person that said this to me. However, no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to get them off my mind. I would like so much to make peace with them, but I do not know if this will happen, and, I do not know how to go about approaching them with my peace offering. This, I am afraid, bothers me.

They were so kind to me, and then they took advantage of my weaknesses. I gave them my fool; I said to them, “Here is my fool, tom-around with it as you see fit, and all I want in return is your respect, protection, and the love that you said you had for me.” Instead, they abused me, emotionally, anyway. They played me like a fine-tuned fiddle. I am not bitter, nor am I angry, not anymore, anyway; however, they do cross my mind, at times. Haunted, am I, not only by my "impeccable" memory for details, but also by their words, and believe me when I tell you, they said some hedonistic and hubristic things to me. The above example is just a hint of what this person is like. Someday, before I go to my grave, I am going to write a book about my encounter with Satan. I think I will title the book after I finish writing its content.

I wish them well, and in many ways, they taught me some good lessons for life. For this, I appreciate them.

Thanks Mike, for another superb article.

By: Momma on 8/20/12
Gosh, NTHA419133. I would love to hear about your encounter with Satan. I am so intrigued.

By: Daddy on 8/21/12
intrigued: "to accomplish or force by crafty plotting or underhand machinations; to entangle." (Source: Online Dictionary)

"Sympathy for the Devil"
Songwriters: JAGGER, MICK / RICHARDS, KEITH

Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a mans soul and faith
And I was round when jesus christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around st. petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a generals rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah
I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made
I shouted out,
Who killed the kennedys?
When after all
It was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me lucifer
Cause I'm in need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, um yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down
Woo, who
Oh yeah, get on down
Oh yeah
Oh yeah!
Tell me baby, what's my name
Tell me honey, can ya guess my name
Tell me baby, what's my name
I tell you one time, you're to blame
Ooo, who
Ooo, who
Ooo, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Oh, yeah
What's my name
Tell me, baby, what's my name
Tell me, sweetie, what's my name
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Ooo, who, who
Oh, yeah