THE BLACKBURN REPORT

News and Opinion Based on Facts

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Still Learning, Cat In Guatemala

I met a Lady on Twitter called, Cat.

She is, among other things, one Hell of a writer.
She is also extraordinarily involved with helping others.
She is in Guatemala now, bringing Medical services to the poor.
This is her latest article 


Please check out her blog, it will be worth it!

I will be running more articles along the lines of the previous ones, dealing with life, troubles, loves, betrayal etc, tongiht or tommorrow.
Come back, Chaverim!!

Friday, May 22, 2009

New Photo of Patrick II

I know it's a terrible picture, technically, but it does capture at least one aspect of his varied personality.

Patrick is my youngest child.
A beauty, isn't he?
I mean in terms of classical beauty, of course.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Something In the Stars




The weather is perfect for a pool party.
Its unusually warm for a late winter day.
Dylan's maternal Grandparents, my other two boys, Michael Jr. 7, Ricky 5, Dylan, 3 and Evelyn, our 6 month old daughter, their Mom, and some friends, are gathered in the pool.
I hop into the cool water with the boys, splashing and frolicking as boys and Dads do.
Jeanne holds Evelyn in the shallow end of the pool, gently splashing the refreshing water onto her soft skin.

"How to you like having a daughter?" asked Jeanne's Mom.
I leaned over and took the baby from her Mother, kissing the top of her blond head.
"It's what I've been praying for, for a long time. But she's so small. The boys seemed bigger at this age."
Jeann's Mom, Elaine, smiled, "She's a girl, Michael. Her Mom was that size at that age.
I've told Jeanne that already.
But if you are concerned, make an appointment with her doctor. Ease your mind about it."
"Honey, " I said to Jeanne, "do that will you, just to be sure?"
"O.K., Dad, whatever you say." she smiled and took Evelyn back.
Jeanne hugged Dylan and Evelyn, Evelyn giggles, Dylan grins.
I looked at Jeanne, "You know, you look pretty good in that bikini, Honey."
She did, too, toned and shapely, smooth and radiant, freckles sprinkled her tanned cheeks, the midday sun glinted in her hair.
"You look pretty good too, Dad. Like you've been working out a lot."
I press weights every other day, I say, half jokingly, "I have to work out, how else am I going to be able to keep my young wife happy?"
She smiles, "You don't have to work out for me. I'd be happy even if you weren't muscular."
I kissed her, her lips were soft, moist. "Yeah, right. You love me for my intellect."
Jeanne looked solemn for a moment, "I love you 'cause you take care of me."
Jeanne's Dad speaks up, running a hand through his thinning white hair.
"What's the difference, Mike, she loves you. Be thankful for that."
I smile slightly "You are correct Mr. McGowan. I am grateful."

.......................................................................................................................


It was the third night of Chanukah, so it was Dylan's turn to light the candles.
As I held his hand he used a candle to light the menorah while we recited the Shema.
Their mother was a quarter Jewish, and we casually observed Jewish Holy days.
An Israeli friend from work had given us the Menorah, and the boys seemed to enjoy the activities.
"Why do we celebrate Chanukah, Mikey?"
"It's when the Jews got the Temple back.
And they only had enough oil for one night, but the Menorah burned for eight days."
"Very good, Michael." I say and rub the back of his neck.
We spun the dreidel for a while and played some Israeli rock, including Dylan's favorite tune, a rock version of "la cha dodi".

Later Mikey and and I are playing tennis on the play station.
I'm McEnroe, he's Jimmy Connors.
He deftly maneuvers his man back and forth at the baseline as I prepare to serve.
I hit a smash.
It zooms past Connors, and Mikey calls out, "You cheated, Dad!"
"What?" I say, taken aback.
"Mom, Dad's cheating." Mikey yells.
Jeanne laughs, "Stop cheating, Dad."
"OK." I chuckle.
A few points later, as usual, Mikey wins the match.
I just can't beat him on the Play Station.
"Congratulations, Son, good match."
"I kicked your butt, Dad."
"In a game Son. In real life I could easily kick your butt."
Jeanne walked by with an armful of clothing, heading towards the washing machine.
"Don't threaten a small child, Dad." Jeanne says and playfully punches me in the arm.
We go into the kitchen, I make some spaghetti and the night winds down.
I look out towards the glassed in porch, and I see it's snowing, flakes dusting the grass outside.
A chill passes through me.
Like someone walking over my grave.
A feeling of foreboding.
I walked outside and lit a cigarette, the cold night air felt good, invigorating.
What is bothering you? I asked myself.
You have a wife, beautiful children, a job you love, with a future.
Something was about to happen, I answered myself.
What? I asked.
I don't know. I don't know. I replied.


Saturday, May 9, 2009

Wanda Sykes, Smasheroo at White House Dinner

Wanda Sykes, a black comedienne made her nationwide debut at the White House press dinner tonight.
The audience was in stitches.
Her humour is of the Don Rickles school.
"I always tell my kids, if you are walking on the street, and two cars pull up, and Dick Cheney is in one car, and a stranger is in the other car.
Get in the car with the stranger."
"Rush Limbaugh wants the country to fail.
I want Rush Limbaugh's kidneys to fail."

I think we'll be seeing a lot more of Wanda Sykes.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Happiest Day of My Life

As I say goodbye to followers of the Blackburn Report, I remember the little adobe home in South Tucson, my lovely daughters Michele and Mary Kate, and the lady I married in that home, the happiest day of my life.
Michele was two, she had dark brown hair and eyes, an upturned little nose and a quick smile.
She loved dolls, and tea sets and helping her Mom with housework.
She would sit in my lap while we watched tv, but conscientuosly hop up and put her "babies" to bed when it got dark.
She was Daddy's little girl and bore a remarkable genetic similarity to her Grandmother Evelyn.
Mary Kate was my best friend.
She was 5, blond and slim, like Michele, gorgeous, but she was more into "rough" adventures, climbing, motorcycle riding and boxing.
We sparred every day.
And she was good.
After the first night I spent in their home, (it was after Mary Anne and I had been separated for a couple of years) I woke to the sounds of tinkling laughter and silverware, Mom was making breakfast.
I dressed and joined them at the table.
Mary placed a plate of eggs, bacon and toast with peach jam in front of me.
I couldn't stop smiling.
I had spent the night with the most beautiful woman in the world, she had two adorable daughters, as perfect, in my eyes, as children could possibly be, and they were MINE.
We had breakfast, I offered to help clean up, but Mary smiled, "This is my kitchen, I'll clean up."
"We'll clean up, Dad, you rest." Michele said.
I grinned.
Later that day, as the sun beamed through the living room window, Mary Kate was outside playing in the yard, I looked over at Mary Anne, sitting next to me on the couch.
I touched her hand, looked at her soft, blonde hair, her delicate cheek bones, her crystal blue eyes, as deep as the sea off of malibu, and spoke, my voice trembling only slightly.
"Honey, would you consider marrying me?"
She smiled and squeezed my hand "Yes, I would consider it."
I gazed into her eyes, hopefully.
"Well...will you marry me?"
She paused, a grin playing around the corner of her full red lips, "Yes, Michael, I'll marry you."
My jaw dropped.
Idiotically I repeated, "You will?"
She laughed, "Yes, Michael."
We kissed, but in my mind I was screaming, "Mary said yes!!! She's going to be my Wife!!"
I knew that life would be a pleasure, a simple, happy life from now on.
I knew I would never be as happy as I had been for the last day and night, but I KNEW it would be a wonderful life.

to be continued

Monday, May 4, 2009

Goodbye Forever

Good evening. ladies and gentlemen.

We are gathered here today to witness an end as well as a beginning, signifying renewal as well as change.
JFK


On April 15 th the last installment in this series will go out onto the WWW.
Let me say it now, its been great folks.
I mean, all of you, todah rabbah as the Jews say.
We started out together in a cozy oak paneled dining room in Rio Rancho, the wife out back,
holding hot dogs over the barbecue pit in the center of the lush green of the backyard, Israeli rock blaring from the ghetto blaster perched on the edge of the cement patio.
I'm sure you all remember Jeanne.
She's next to Mikey and Richard, helping them toast marshmallows, their faces reflecting flame from the glowing, fragrant pine fed barbecue pit.
Jeanne is only slightly pregnant, I walk accross the gravel and kneel down between her and Mikey, I kiss her on her freckled cheek.
She smiles, happy, flames from the pit dance brightly in her blue eyes.
"I love you, Dad, " she says, and runs a soft hand through my hair.
Ricky is 3, an intelligent , alert, dark complexioned version of his Dad.
Ricky's marshmallow slides from the bent coat hanger in his hand and burns on the coals.
"Shit!" he exclaims.
"Jesus, Ricky. Don't use that word, Son."
I look at Jeanne, her blond hair is in a bun.
Her eyes are smiling as she tries to muffle an amused grin.
"Honey, " I say, "You see what happens when you use that kind of language around the kids?"
"Me?" she ejaculates.
" I guess I may have used that expression too. I'll watch it."
Jeanne called me "Dad."
Sometimes Daddy.
"Do you like being with me, Daddy?"
she asked, lashes touching her cheeks, looking down.
The night sky was a deep blue.
The music, the kids chuckling as they huddled around the barbecue pit, my wife, all combined to create a feeling of well being..
Mikey threw in some twigs and they flared up briefly.
I was happy.
Still, so much had been lost in my life.
I couldn't foresee the disaster that would soon crush my family, and yet, I did have a vague sense of foreboding....

But this post is not about me reminiscing.
Its to say goodbye, Part One.
Forever.

You can email me at: mailto:mblackburn49@gmail.com