Zulu

I am not going to begin this with the story of my life. Because this blog will become just that. The story of my life. If I told you it all in the first post then This blog would be like every other persons online life-log. And that, though in some cases is slightly interesting and for those with a family, certainly cute, is for the most part benign. What a person is doing as they go through life is important, only for the fact though, that they have a past to back it up. Is the Grinch very important unless we know how at one time he STOLE Christmas? Would you think twice about eating a slice of ham if you knew it was actually Wilbur? Would Elvis Presley stand up to the bad boys of the now if we didn't know what society was like in 1955? Is a king simply great, without us knowing the humble beginnings of a boy stumbling through the forest and venturing upon a wizards cottage?  Does Americas spirit remain free without us knowing about the brave men and woman who looked a whole world in the face and said "Make my day"? A LOT of people where whipped, beaten, and made to carry the cross they would be nailed on back when the Romans ruled over the Jews 2000 some years ago. So would the story of Jesus Christ mean very much to us if we didn't know anything about the life he led before crucifixion? Well the answer is of course not. And I hope that maybe you will get to know me better through reading about the experiences I'm sure to go through after this first blog post. And by mixing the past as a reference to the present hopefully the effect will be more invigorating and cause for much more, overall, intriguing reading.
   Well I hoped you enjoyed this first post (if you ever actually finished reading this far). I hope you enjoyed how serious, mild, and intelligent it was. Because that won't happen in a blog written by me much. Me? You can call Zulu. And the story begins here, on a warm October night in Brooklyn, New York. Sitting in a small grubby apartment, dog stretched and snoring on the couch beside me, live rock music blasting right next door in a club, 1:20 A.M...... No job. No Money. No place of my own. Always Hungry. No friends... A small store down the street sells a bully oatmeal-cream pie for only 50cents. Perfectly Happy with my life.