Chocolate Chip Shiva

As 80year old Benny lay dying in his bedroom, he suddenly smells the aroma of freshly cooked chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. They are his favourite. So he gathers his remaining strength, lifts himself from his bed and leaning against the wall, slowly makes his way out of the bedroom. Then, with great effort, he makes his way down the stairs, gripping the rail with both hands. Finally, breathing hard, he leans against the kitchen doorframe and stares in.

"I’m already in heaven," he thinks, as there, spread out in front of him, are hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.

"Am I really in heaven," has asks himself, "or is it an act of devotion from mine darling Rebecca to ensure that I exit from this world a happy man?"

Then with one final effort, Benny propels himself towards the cookies, but ends up on his knees near the table. His aged hand trembles as it makes its way to the cookie nearest the table edge, his mind already beginning to think about the wondrous taste that he will soon experience.

All of a sudden, Rebecca smacks his hand with her wooden spoon.

"Please don't touch them," she says, "they're for the Shiva."

Doomed But Not Done

Mankind might well be on the precipice.

We are seemingly doomed by man-made climate change , but that doesn't mean we have to give up.

Cut your energy costs by shutting off the lights, the voodoo transformers, and curtail your driving to a minimum.

The money you save is money stolen from the energy companies.

The best way to be Robin Hood is not let King John steal from you.

ps I'll be riding my bike in New York to the March.

Faster Than Fast

In 1908 the fastest car in the world was not powered by the internal combustion engine or an electric battery, but the Stanley Steamer Woggle Bug. This steam-driven speedster was piloted by Fred Marriott who traveled a measure mile on Daytona Beach at 127.66 miles per hour. A year later Louis S. Ross the company owner attempted to reach 180 MPH, but beach conditions caused a horrible accident. Fred Marriott was in a terrible state with his eye popped from the socket. According to http://saltofamerica.com a Dr. Parks of South Boston put back the eye and later perfect sight was restored.

Every spectator that day said they had never seen anything ever travel that fast.

180 in 1909.

Back then fast was fast.

XKE Jaguar In Reverse

The XKE Jaguar convertible was the epitome of 1960s British cool, but upon seeing this photo I somehow recalled two motorhead brothers in 1968 attempting to rearrange the sleek convertible's configuration in reverse. The twins from the South Shore of Boston switched the transmission and the steering to the rear. The adults on Anderson Street thought the teenagers mad for destroying the icon of English modernism. My cousin Cindy got the first ride. The kids in the suburban neighborhood applauded their achievement.

None of my family remembers this event.

Maybe it was all an hallucination.

I've had more than one.

Electric Not The Answer

Over one billion motor vehicles are in service around the globe. No one on the planet can recall a time without cars or trucks, although as a child I recall the ragman riding the streets of Jamaica Plain, calling out, "Bring out your rags."

I have taken rickshaws in Indonesia, Malaysia, Cambodia, and Thailand.

But most of my overland travel has been done by cars and the other day I was at an opening for LC Armstrong. Her husband runs an energy acquisition company. Many of the invitees were business associates. An artist was arguing against fracking.

"It's a dirty business."

"We don't do much of it."

They were into slant-drilling in Long Beach.

"That's what all oil companies say."

Profits for the energy industry was up everywhere.

"For us it's the truth."

"It doesn't matter," I interjected with a glass of wine in my hand.

"Why doesn't it matter?" the artist had just returned from a successful campaign in Europe.

"Because we're already doomed. The world cannot sustain cars or this economy based on cars."

"And what will take its place?" The oil exec was wearing a hand-tailored suit. "Electric cars?"

"No cars."

"No cars?" exclaimed the painter.

"No cars at all. No electric cars. No gas powered cars. No cars." The auto industry loved building ugly electric cars.

My prediction unified the painter and oil exec.

"Cars will be here forever."

"They weren't here 200 years ago and that is part of forever. Fifty years from now there will be no cars. Maybe even sooner." I wasn't about to tell them that the world population with be reduced by climate change from the present six billion to 500 million. People aren't ready for that news.

"Never happen."

"Never has a funny way of not being never." I shrugged and went over to my host.

"Thanks for the lovely evening."

Philip loved my writing and I asked him for a job.

I wasn't a hypocrite about cars. I loved GTOs and needed money for my kids. They will see the time of no cars and I think I will too.

If I'm lucky.

Watchic Autumn by Regina Rutter

The end of the line for summer. Fall is ravenous for cool days, The crunch of brightly, colored leaves underfoot, The smoky sweetness of wood fires, The sharp, crisp bite of fresh picked apples. A loon's soul-filled cry mourns The passage of another season Summer into autumn And the loss of children's laughter, As they barreled off docks Into the warm, golden waters of Watchic Pond. A poem by my Sister Regina Rutter Woke to a dream of Watchic Pond Maine. Standing watching my brother in law load the car. I wander off for a last swim. Haven't been there in years. Until tonight. Swam in the hot springs there are none save in my dream.

Forlorn

New York is a city of eight million. Every day millions of commuters, truckers, and travelers pass through the five boroughs to a myriad of destinations. The residents of this mighty metropolis look up into the sky of a day and think that we are spared the smog of LA. Today's Air Quality Index is 40 ppm, while Beijing, China registers 250 ppm, which is considered to be hazardous to the health of all living creatures.

I suppose a Zero Air Quality Index is impossible, but I imagine that the air quality around this forlorn ice cream stand in the middle of the desert must be a good break for city lungs.

I wonder where this is.

Somewhere out West where the buffalo used to roam.

Maybe I'll get there one day.

War War War

Hawks in the media and military establishment are calling for America to address the threat of ISIS after the video beheadings of journalists covering the civil war in Syria.

Former Vice President Dick Cheney told Fox News commentator, "Now, are we going to pull yourself up by our bootstraps and get on with the business of destroying ISIS, or are we simply going to sit back and agonize every time they commit another outrageous act?"

Army general Martin Dempsey, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff reported at a media conference, "ISIS is an organization that has an apocalyptic, end-of-days strategic vision which will eventually have to be defeated.”

President Obama has responded to the crisis by condoning more drone strikes, which led to the vengeful decapitation of the reporters, and ordering hundreds of soldiers to Iraq to bolster the National Army's resolve against the fanatical invaders from Syria.

The situation on the ground is fluid with various factions probing each other's weaknesses before committing to a coalition designed to oust ISIS from Iraq. Kurds, Shiites, Sunnis, militants, communists, and the national government are bartering for larger stakes in the country without any longtime commitment to the cause of national unity.

Fox News has been fear-mongering about retaliatory attacks on the White House and an ISIS invasion across the Mexican border. People are talking about the radical Muslims as if they are grouping in Nogales to take over Tucson, but Iraq is thousands of miles away from the USA. Mexico already has an armed rebellion on its hands with drug traffickers, who will not allow ISIS interlopers to interfere with their business, and the US military is shot after a long war in Iraq and an endless conflict in Afghanistan.

The last thing America needs at this time is another war, but sadly that will probably be what we get next, because the Pentagon and the military-industrial can fight a war at home, even though they are willing to try as seen in Ferguson, Missouri.

End the war in Afghanistan.

Bring the troops home.

The House of Hoax

The circumstances surrounding 9/11 was cloaked with conspiracies and hoaxes. Many people believe that the US government brought down the Twin Towers with the help of the Israeli military or that the planes were drone jets and not commercial liners.

Everyone with a half a brain has questioned the discovery of hijacker Mohammad Atta's passport in the WTC wreckage or the lack of plane wreckage at the Pentagon.

My favorite urban myth is that of a man surfing the debris on his desk to survive the collapse of the World Trade Tower.

None of these stories are true and neither is the above photo.

9/11 was a sad day for all of us.

And will be for the years to come.

Not Man Enough

Once I mentioned transplanting a donkey penis and my doctor scoffed saying, "Your body doesn't possess enough blood to engorge such a monster. You'd probably pass out before you had a half a Woodie."

Nick and I go back to university and he hasn't killed me yet, so I heeded his advice against such an operation, despite knowing that the greatest lie in the world is not 'the check's in the mail', but 'size doesn't matter' as the Thomas Cook Travel Agency discovered when a honeymooner on an African safari complained about feeling inadequate after witnessing a bull elephant frolicking with a female pachyderm.

I understand his pain, for according to National Geographic average length of an African elephant penis is about 2 meters and most of it is not visible. It weighs about 25 kg or 55 lbs.

It's a good thing he didn't go on a whale-watching trip.

Humpback whales are endowed with 10 foot cocks.

Worst than inadequate is 'insignificant'.

CIRCUS LIFE by Peter Nolan Smith

Whenever a married couple or single mother and kid visited me in Pattaya, I took them on a tour of the various tourist points of interest; the Khao Keo outdoor zoo, the Temple of Truth, the biggest wooden structure in the world, and Nong Nooch Gardens. while steering well clear of my usual haunts i.e. the Buffalo Bar, the Welkom Inn, and Heaven Above a Go-Go.

None of these family fare attractions were far away from my house on Moo 9 and they hide your true reason to partake life in the Last Babylon.

Sin sin sin.

I showed my friends flowers, temples, and elephants.

Back in the early part of the 21st Century my young nephew, Fast Eddie, and I went to see the Nong Nooch elephant show. We bought 50 baht of bananas from a vendor before the pachyderms entered the arena, The two of us sat in the front row under the shade. The music announced the first elephant. A giant tusker chained at his back feet. The beast took one look at our bananas and charged the stands. The minders had no chance of controlling him. I chucked the bananas at him and grabbed my godson’s hand before we were trampled by the rampaging behemoth. The crowd both Thai and farang laughed at our timidity, but even a 400-pound gorilla. The ape will get out of the seat to let the elephant sit down if it knows what is good for the ape.

Angie's mom was angry at me.

"Khang kill you. Who take care Angie?" We weren't on the best of terms, but I was staying with her for my daughter.

Angie started crying. She was scared stiff of elephants. Especially the ones from the tourist safaris who would strip our mango tree of fruit. Even the mahouts couldn't stop them from sating their appetite.

When I mentioned this story at my local, my French friend Bruno said, “You are lucky. Two years ago an English woman tried to hide the bananas and was stomped by the elephant. She was killed and the elephant fled the scene to Isaan.”

“That’s nothing.” An old-timer said putting down a glass of Mekong whiskey. “Back in the last century a circus dwarf was swallowed by a hippopotamus in a freak accident. He was a trapeze artist and dismounted onto the trampoline. The angle was bad and his disappeared into the mouth of a hippo. Hippos will eat anything and the beast swallowed the dwarf. Fucking audience applauded thinking it was part of the act. The handlers were unable to free the dwarf, but said the hippo was a vegetarian.”

No one laughed at the punchline, but Bruno muttered under his breath. “I heard that story before only the dwarf landed headfirst in the hippo’s asshole.’

“No.” This was starting to sound like an urban legend.

“Quais, and the dwarf survived, but quit because the circus owner wanted him to repeat the act every night.”

Which goes to show there’s no business like show business.

Especially in the circus.

FERTILE ELEPHANTS

Elephants have long memories.

Mostly because they have long lives.

I have met 100 year-old elephants in Thailand.

Not in Africa since poachers killed the pachyderms for their tusks. You would have thought somewhere along the line these ivory hunters would have invested in an elephant dentist, although I doubt elephants are very tractable for tusk extractions.

Thai elephants are different from Africans.

They are trained to perform certain tasks and are considered good luck.

Even as a fertility blessing.

Any woman passing five times under an elephant's belly is destined to give birth within the year, that is if she survives the ritual, because while elephants do have long memories, they aren't the most patient of animals, but it's definitely cheaper than a visit to a fertility clinic.

GUNS AND ELEPHANTS

Back in the early 00s my godson Fast Eddie Silver came out to Thailand with his mother. I was looking forward to seeing the 12 year-old. His late father was one of my best friends.

I took them to Koh Samet and Bangkok, but my best photo of Eddie was taken at the Elephant Camp south of Jomtien. We rode the pachyderms through the coconut trees and fed them bananas before entering the gun range to shoot at paper targets. My choice was a 44 Magnum. Eddie liked the Glock.

We shot two clips each.

"You're crazy."

His mother disapproved of guns, but she was particularly angered by the location of the shooting range next to the elephants' kraal.

"Guns and elephants. What do you think the elephants think about hearing those shots?"

"They seem okay with it."

I looked out the door. The Thai mahouts were lounging peacefully atop their changs. The elephants showed no sign of alarm, as other tourists banged away at the targets. Most of them missed the bull's eyes by feet. Eddie hit the target every shot.

"Right."

Sara was pissed at us.

"It's not like these guns can hurt them."

.50 caliber bullets from a elephant gun might spook them, but the giant creatures were basically impervious to the under-powered bullets of the shooting range.

"What if one of the elephants was shooting at you?"

"I don't think they could hold this pistol."

Eddie lowered his rented weapon onto the table after cocking the chamber to check if the pistol was empty.

"Probably have to built them a cannon gun."

"And they pull the trigger with their trunk."

Elephants chasing you with a cannon was a scary thought.

I put down my gun too.

Sara had a good point.

Riling an elephant was a bad idea.

Almost as bad as pissing of a woman, but I would risk my chances with an amok elephant than a mad woman any day of the week.

And most nights too.

dreaming of a tree - a poem

dreaming of a tree a tree bigger than me I wish I were three Three of me Holding hands we hug the tree We three and a tree bigger than me.

MENAGE A TROIS A LA THAI

Western press continually brattles on how Muslim suicide bombers are rewarded for their ultimate sacrifice with seventy-seven virgins, even though virgins are not renown for their sexual prowess and this generous gift for their ultimate sacrifice has seemed more a curse to me, then again most western men fantasize about a dirty weekend in a cheap hotel with two whores more than a full platoon of uninitiated virgins; ranging from girlfriends, mother-daughter, sisters, twins, fat girl/skinny girl, lesbians, dildos, however men rarely accomplish this goal for most women are prudes.

Having sex with a man already tests their limits, let alone messing around with a member of the same sex to satisfy a sexual maniac's warped perversions. Of course escort services in the West routinely offer this Nirvana, but the hour-long session between two hardened pros would cost a few monthly car payments in America.

Not so in Pattaya.

A farang can go into a go-go. A beautiful girl will sit on his lap. Her skin has the texture of a shaved peach. Two Viagra counteract the effects of the 15 beers drunk at a cheap beer bar. Blood flees his brain for the lower auxiliary station. Its activation is signaled by the tent pole rising under his trousers. The little exotic dancer knows what's in store for her this evening.

Five hours of hard-core sex and relentless pounding for even the most well-traveled vagina and she surprisingly offers the farang an opportunity to satisfy a long-suppressed desire.

"You want go with two ladies?"

"Want?

This retired postal worker has been dreaming of this moment since flicking through his first stroke book.

"Damn straight I want."

Normally the girl will pick out a friend, usually an aging hooker, who hasn't been barfined in months.

The farang doesn't care, because his skull is swirling in a rich soup of libido juices.

The two go-go girls invite him to the nearest short-time room, which has mirrors on the walls and ceiling. The lighting is a dim red. The girls shower the farang in a state of complete nakedness. They laugh, as they hang a towel on his member. He think it's funny too, but swears to wipe the smile off their faces.

It's show time.

He has seen thousands of menage-a-trois porno movies and now he has a chance to play movie director. The girls initiate a lesbian show, since it's better for them to play with each other than the sex-crazed farang.

Once more he doesn't care, because they are faking the right noises and his eyesight is fading in and out with the hot Viagra flashes pounding his temples.

Warning: this is a danger sign of having consumed too many 'blue boys' or Viagras.

Again he doesn't care, because if he dies, he'll die in saddle like the billionaire Nelson Rockefeller.

His patience snaps when they lay on the white sheet in a classic 69.

They look so happy.

The farang wants to be happy too.

From here on in, the scene becomes too pornographic and there's nothing really pretty about a middle-aged guy acting like a high school football quarterback wreaking havoc on the opposing team's cheerleaders.

Within thirty minutes it's over.

His heart is thumping like a gorilla is attempting to breakout of his chest and the girls are dressing to get the hell away out of the room before he demands a second act.

He pays them. They leave him the satisfied farang alone, but not too alone, because he set his mobile phone on video record and he will be able to replay his performance to friends in foreign places via the magic of the internet. He lies on the pillows and says to himself, "I'm glad I didn't go to Club Med this holiday."

And the farang says this knowing that he meant it and he hadn't meant anything for years.

Menage a trois in Pattaya.

We should all be so lucky.

Yves Klein's Leap

Yves Klein was a pop minimalist genius.

In 1960 he staged the photo SAUT DANS LE VIDE or LEAP INTO THE VOID from a rooftop in the Paris suburb of Fontenay-aux-Roses.

His friends caught him in a tarp.

The photo was then published in a fake newspaper at Paris news kiosks.

I love Yves Klein.

He was not scared of the void.

At least as an illusion.

Golden Gate Vanishing Act

It is easy to lose your heart in San Francisco with the little trolley cars climbing to heaven, but last month a younger friend disappeared in the City by the Bay.

Upon leaving for a writing sabbatical in the Far West he had asked me to check on his mail.

I did so, but failed to send the packages in a timely fashion and in June I received an email accusing me of ruining his life.

"You have played a significant role in destroying my life and as a result left me with so much less money in June that I am now destitute and unable to even drive back across country. I am homeless and hungry and left with nothing. Whatever slim margins of error I had in my life, you've pushed into the red."

His wouldn't be the first life I had ruined by my actions and I reached out to him without any reply, until he send an email attached to a disturbing video from San Francisco.

"i have decided to stop continuing to live in pain; pain from ongoing medical issues and pain from a long pattern of sustained cruel behavior from my own family. both of which have directly led to the destruction of my life, my health, my financial/credit history and everything i wanted to realize in my life. it is my belief that these results were intentional. meaning, my family and extended family willfully wanted to inflict these results upon me."

The video was pain-filled with images of the Golden Gate Bridge wreathed in fog,

I phoned the San Francisco police and Golden Gate Bridge.

They reported no suicide by a man with my friend's name.

I pray for his survival.

I know the pain.

Many of us do.

I pray for us all.

Leaving Pattaya The Hard Way

The NY Times regularly published a list of why Americans die. The leading causes of fatality come as no surprise; heart disease, cancer, stroke, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, diabetes and Alzheimer’s disease, in that order. Almost all of them are related to either environment, bad food, obesity, or a cocktail of the three. You are what you eat, however westerners in Pattaya are promoted from this mortal coil for a contrasting set of circumstances;

#1 Motorcycles.

Men over 40 hit their second stage of youth on a Japanese riceburner or 125cc motorscooter. These born-again farangs reincarnate their youth, while singing BORN TO BE WILD in leather. This reversal of age doesn't last long, because many of them plow a song-thaew at full speed. They never learned how to brake and end up DOA at the local hospital. Toe tag reading 'death from misadventure'.

10-20 a month.

#2 Sex on Viagra.

55 years old with a pacemaker. 30 kilos overweight. 10 beers in their gut. A 45 kilo go-go dancer in bed. Two Viagras coursing through in their system to re-awaken a dormant libido which finally burst alive like Mt. St. Helen. spitting out the lungs of lava. OD on lust. No one knows how many farangs are bodybagged for in Bangkok-Pattaya for exceeding the speed limit for heartbeat per minute.

Some sources say 50-60 a month.

At least they died in the saddle.

#3 Suicide.

Farangs blow out their bank account, savings, and credit cards on an 18 year old bar girl named Lek. Once the ATM goes dry, her eyes seek out a new sponsor like a predator drone hunting the Taliban.

“She can’t be looking at that 80 year-old fat man?” The farang asks himself.

Two minutes later Lek’s sitting being the octogenarian on a taxi bike waving as if she were going to 7/11 for a phone card. It's the last time that farang will see his tee-lat. Broke, busted and faced with having to go back to East Doversham, the farang weighs out his options.

Graham Greene wrote in OUT MAN IN HAVANA that suicide was the work someone who reckons that the odds of ending it all are better than going on.

I know from personal experience that whatever doesn’t kill you will only make you wish you were dead. Once past that drama of a go-go girl's departure, then things get better and beer won't taste like dusty acid.

In the words of Scarlett O’Hara, “Tomorrow is another day.”

Add in drinking, ODs, and murder, a farang have to ask, “Does anyone here die of natural causes?”

And there is only one answer.

Not if they can help it.

Drinking Yourself To Death

Every week the Pattaya Media highlights another farang leaving this mortal coil from suicide. Favorite methods of self-demise tend to be jumping from a condo, poison, or hanging yourself with a plastic bag around your head, but few people ever comment on the most popular technique ie drinking yourself to the grave, since the process takes too long to be considered suicide. Still you do hear friends saying about the decreased, "He drank himself to death."

While drinking yourself to death might not be pretty, it's certainly not as ugly as hitting the pavement from a 7th floor balcony plus you're in good company.

Oliver Reed for one and the church can't ban you from a churchyard burial at which your friends will say, "At leat he went doing what he did best."

So for those desperate souls seeking solace in a final solution.

Get yourself a beer.

Maybe twelve.

A bottle of vodka and one of gin too.

At worst the near-death experience will scare you back from the edge as long as you don't get on a motorcycle during this binge, then you'll have people saying, "What was he thinking trying to dirve in that condition?"

And we can't have people speaking of the dead like that.

Falling in Thailand

Falling from a balcony is a sad tradition for farangs in Thailand. The usual causes are suicide, drunkenness, or shoddy construction. Usually the latter is avoided by blaming the cause of death on the first two to avoid any legal repercussions for the building owners. A spate of falls this week took the lives of four tourists and left two brothers near-death in Koh Samui. The owners of the resort have offered to repair the damaged balcony without any charge to the injured boys' family.

Years ago in London I met a young man at a bar. He walked with the aid of two canes. After several drinks he explained that he had thrown himself off the roof of Harrods into the garden of his girlfriend's house.

"I wanted to show her that she had made a mistake in leaving me." The fall should have killed him, instead it left him crippled for life.

"And did she."

"No, she moved away, but I was determined to complete this task and jumped off Harrods again."

"Obviously without success."

"I hit a tree on the way down. It broke my fall and most of my bones. I think I'm done with jumping for the moment."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What?"

"I've heard that you pass out before impact." Sort of a safety measure of the consciousness. "Is that true?"

"Not for me. I felt the impact both times. Like getting swatted by King Kong. An upper cut."

He hobbled out of the bar and I never saw him again, but I think about him every time I find myself on a high balcony looking down. Nothing is certain. Not even a drop of twenty stories.

THE FAITHFULNESS OF LIES by Peter Nolan Smith

Several years ago my friend, Sam Royalle, suspected his girlfriend was seeing another man.

"How do you know that?" Farangs don't understand how hard it was for a Thai woman to be with a westerner.

They don't speak the same language. Their tastes in food, movies, music, and humor were complete opposites. No matter how hard a Thai woman worked to be farang she will always be Thai and vice versa.

"She's always late."

"Thais are always late." Thai girlfriends normally were having too much fun doing what they're doing to be with their farang.

"She never answers her phone."

"Bad coverage." I knew all the excuses.

"That's what she said."

Not answering her phone was very suspect. Thais love speaking on the phone. Actually they love the sound of their voices, if only to not have silence, since silence opens the door for ghosts and nothing scares a Thai more than the thought of a ghost or 'phew'.

"And she comes home smelling like she just showered."

"Thais like being clean." I always have suspected that Thai girls shower after sex to erase any evidence of sex, although the Thai police insisted that criminals can't leave fingerprints on another body.

"It could be nothing."

"It wouldn't bother me if he was farang, but I think he's Thai." Sam had more than a hunch. He had seen a Thai man driving his car. She had said it was her cousin. The possibility of this being the truth was about .0001%, because Thai women in a relationship with farangs gravitated to Thai men for the comfort of a shared culture. I regarded the situation more as polygamy than infidelity.

One world Thai.

One world farang.

Can't we live together as one?

I learned the hard way that the answer is no.

Sam's girlfriend confessed to having an affair with a Thai man. Said he was a long-time friend.

"Said it was only three months."

"Maybe."

Sam Royalle threw her out of the house without torturing her to find out if it was three months or six.

"She'll be back when she breaks up with him."

"Okay."

Thai women always have a boyfriend in the background. 100% and this week a German farang hung himself rather than leave his girlfriend alone. Suicide was the only way he could be sure she didn't cheat on him.

What is wrong with these farangs?

Magic love potions?

I was poisoned with one and the only remedy is to have a woman stand over a pot of steaming rice and have her sweat drip into the pot and eat it. The rice tastes a little fishy, but I think it works and certainly would save a lot of people from a death before their time.

For those desperate men ask the cook for Khao nam-lai puying.

The life you save maybe your own.

French Ego Solution

How does a frenchman commit suicide?

He holds a gun six inches over his head and kills his superiority complex.

To Live and Die in Thailand

Here's a list of death in Thailand spanning 2005-2008 complied by the US State Dept.

THAILAND
Date of Death Place of Death Cause of Death
11-Jul-05 BANG LAMUNG Suicide
24-Jul-05 UBON RATCHATHANI Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
8-Aug-05 CHIANG MAI Drug-related
23-Sep-05 LOPBURI Veh. Accident-Auto
23-Sep-05 LOPBURI Veh. Accident-Auto
3-Oct-05 CHIANG MAI Drug-Related
4-Oct-05 SRIRACHA, Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
19-Oct-05 TRANG Veh. Accident-Other
17-Nov-05 NONG KHAI Homicide
27-Dec-05 MIN BURI Veh. Accident-Auto
1-Jan-06 CHIANG RAI Other Accident
2-Jan-06 PAHYA THAI Suicide
9-Jan-06 DIN DAENG Other Accident
17-Jan-06 NONG PRUE Suicide
18-Jan-06 NONGKHAI Homicide
23-Apr-06 BANGKOK Homicide
17-May-06 BANGKOK Suicide
28-May-06 CHIANG MAI Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
30-May-06 CHONBURI Drug-Related
11-Jun-06 BANG LAMUNG Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
24-Jun-06 PHUKET, Drowning
2-Jul-06 SRIDONCHAI Homicide
20-Jul-06 PHASALI Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
2-Aug-06 BANG KOR Suicide
4-Aug-06 MAK KENG Suicide
2-Sep-06 Bleft Suicide
9-Sep-06 MAE RIM ROAD Veh. Accident-other
15-Sep-06 HAT YAI Terrorist Action
29-Sep-06 CHAING MAI Homicide
2-Nov-06 UDON THANI Other Accident- fall
5-Nov-06 THIALAND Suicide
16-Nov-06 PATTAYA Other Accident - fall
25-Nov-06 HAYACHI HILL Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
9-Jan-07 SARABURI Suicide
8-Feb-07 RATCHABURI Veh. Accident-Train
30-Mar-07 CHIANG RAI Veh. Accident-Auto
28-Apr-07 CHONBURI Veh. Accident-Motorcycle
1-May-07 BANG NA Veh. Accident-Pedestrian
9-Jul-07 MAESAI Veh. Accid-Auto
19-Jul-07 RATCHABURI Homicide
4-Aug-07 MUANG Veh. Accid-Auto
11-Sep-07 SANGKHLA BURI Homicide
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
16-Sep-07 PHUKET Air Accident
30-Sep-07 SATHON Suicide
30-Sep-07 SATHON Suicide
2-Oct-07 BANG LAMUNG Suicide
10-Oct-07 RATCHATHEWI Suicide
10-Oct-07 WATTANA Suicide
29-Oct-07 NAKHON PATHOM Suicide
21-Nov-07 KM1 SATTAHIP Veh. Accid-Auto
24-Nov-07 LAMUNG Other Accident
3-Dec-07 BANGKOK Veh. Accid-Auto
14-Jan-08 BANGKOK Suicide
26-Feb-08 PARACHUABKEREKAN Other Accident
22-Mar-08 CHIANG MAI Execution
8-Apr-08 PHUKET Suicide
18-Apr-08 PHITSANULOK Veh. Accid-Bus
18-Apr-08 PATTAYA Veh. Accid-Motorcy.
19-May-08 PHUKET Suicide
15-Jun-08 BANGKOK Homicide

Here's the list for 2012

12-20-2012 Rawai, Mueang Phuket, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 12-16-2012 A. Muang, Kamphaeng Phet, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Auto 12-08-2012 Prachathipat, Thanyaburi, Thailand Drug-Related 11-26-2012 Bangkok, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 11-23-2012 Koh Samui, Surat Thani, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 11-19-2012 A. Wichianburi, Phetchabun, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 11-14-2012 A. Muang, Chiang Mai, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 09-10-2012 Prawet, Bangkok, Thailand Suicide 09-10-2012 Mueang Kanchanaburi, Kanchanaburi, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 09-03-2012 Kathu, Phuket, Thailand Suicide 08-13-2012 Chiang Mai, Thailand Other Accident 07-30-2012 Mueang, Udon Thani, Thailand Suicide 07-20-2012 Kathu, Phuket, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 06-24-2012 A. Hangdong , Chiang Mai, Thailand Other Accident 06-12-2012 Kathu, Phuket, Thailand Drowning 06-09-2012 Muang, Sakon Nakorn, Thailand Other Accident 05-30-2012 A. Hang Dong, Chiang Mai, Thailand Homicide 05-24-2012 Khlong Toei, Bangkok, Thailand Other Accident 04-21-2012 Hua Hin, Prachuap Khirikhan, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Motorcycle 04-20-2012 Koh Samui, Surat Thani, Thailand Drowning 04-15-2012 Muang, Nong Khai, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Auto 04-15-2012 Muang, Nong Khai, Thailand Vehicle Accident - Auto 04-10-2012 Chang Phuak, Chiang Mai, Thailand Other Accident 04-01-2012 Bang Lamung, Chonburi, Thailand Suicide 03-21-2012 Chiang Rai, Chiang Rai, Thailand Suicide

Motorcycles win out over suicide.

Which is another form of suicide on some roads in the Land of Smiles.

For the world-wide listing go to this URL

http://travel.state.gov/law/family_issues/death/death_594.html

Be careful and be prepared.

Golden Gate Suicide Net Update

The Golden Gate Bridge has been a magnet for suicide since its construction with over 2000 fatal leaps having been record since its opening in 1937.

Every two weeks someone jumps from the legendary span.

Only one person, a woman has jumped twice. She was successful on her second attempt.

There has been no safety net under the bridge, as the operators considered such a measure would detract from the aesthetic beauty of the bridge and possibly threaten its structural integrity, however in 2008 the San Francisco City Council voted 14-1 to install such a device from end to end in hopes of losing the dubious title of 'most popular place to commit suicide in the world'.

The four other options other than doing nothing were considered too intrusive.

Despite the vote safety net has yet to be installed due to financial considerations and the current economic distress has brought a significant increase in attempts.

According to Wikipedia the deck is approximately 245 feet (75 m) above the water. After a fall of approximately four seconds, jumpers hit the water at around 75 mph or approximately 120 km/h. Most jumpers die from impact trauma on contact with the water. The few who survive the initial impact generally drown or die of hypothermia in the cold water.

I've jumped from bridges for fun. Nothing over 40 feet. I'd never jump from the Golden Gate Bridge, although I have contemplated suicide occasionally without ever having a real plan as to the method. Guess I'm lucky that way.

Back when I was in high school my friend's mother attempted suicide off the Tobin Bridge in Boston three times.

Always on a Friday.

Always in the rain.

Always at the end of the day.

Traffic backed up on the feeder roads for miles, as the police tried to dissuade the woman from taking a fatal plunge. Finally her husband would show up to add his pleas to the rescue and my friend's mother would take one look at him and jump off the walkway.

The first time she survived the leap and her family put the poor woman into a mental hospital. After many months she would be released under a doctor's supervision. We would see her in the yard. She seemed normal and then one rainy Friday afternoon she went intown to the Tobin Bridge.

Same spot as before.

Traffic was snarled in all directions.

The police begged her to come down and once her husband appeared, she once more stepped off the bridge as soon as she saw her husband.

She survived a second time, although her stay in the hospital was much longer because of injuries and screwing her head on straight. Months went by before she was released from state care. She seemed normal as before, until another rainy Friday afternoon. Once more she waited for her husband before jumping.

This time she was successful, because she struck a police boat instead of the water.

As far as I know the woman never left a note.

I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge last Friday. It was a beautiful day. I let the wind wash my soul. All I could do afterward was smile and this is my non-suicide note from that bridge.

I lived for another day and that day is a long way from tomorrow.

Out Of It

Last week my head wasn't straight.

Without work my money went to zero and this destitution acted as an effective deterrent against writing.

Writer's block.

I feared for my life, but have come out the other side.

Because whatever doesn't kill you will make you wish you were dead sometimes.

The courage of an anti-suicide is to fight off the obvious choice and continue living.

We only have one life.