EPISODE 6: TT MOTORCYCLE RACES - ISLE OF MAN

          The next thing I knew, we were traveling along a quiet country road and people were waving at us. At first, I thought they were digging our cool looking Hippie Hangout, so we were smiling and waving back at them. However, by the time we realized they were waving frantically at us to pull over and get off the road, it was too late; a swarm of motorcycles topped a hill and were buzzing towards us at an alarming speed. Daisy applied the brakes just as one motorcycle shot overhead and we could hear its rear wheel running along the roof. Three more speeding motorcycles, a blur of colour, zipped around us, while more were speeding our way. As it turned out, we were on the Isle of Man, which is situated in the Irish Sea and we had become part of one of the world's most dangerous events - the TT (Tourist Trophy) Motorcycle Race. Fortunately, Daisy and her fancy maneuvering managed to get the truck and trailer far enough off the road, which gave us an excellent place to watch these amazing bikers, sometimes reaching speeds of 320k (200mph). Since I had driven motorcycles for about 30 years when I was younger and not in a shy manner, I was in complete awe at the death defying rate they were traveling.

          The Isle of Man, although basically its own country, is really quite small, so we decided to trip around and take in the sights. And besides, we hadn't yet asked the little people (fairies) for safe journey and after the super close call we had during the race, we were soon on our way to the fairy bridge. Apparently, not visiting them first can have serious consequences, which is why everyone, including the TT racers go and greet them upon arrival.

          I was somewhat skeptical regarding fairies but then most cats have tails - except on the Isle of Man - the Manx cats don't have them - so why shouldn't fairies exist - right? After munching up a couple of Daisy's brownies and feeling really laid back, we followed a narrow dirt path until we arrived at the small stone bridge crossing over a sparkling stream. Since it was so peaceful and we were not in any rush, I laid down amidst some purple wild flowers growing beside the path and shut my eyes. I wasn't sure if I had drifted off to the land of dreams because when I opened my eyes, the image before me couldn't be real. An extremely tiny man dressed all in green, including his hat and curled up pointy shoes was sitting on my chest peering into my bloodshot eyes.

          Needless to say I was shocked and even more so when the wee green dude said, his eyes twinkling with merriment, "I witnessed your remarkable arrival. Like us, you must have splendid, superlative mystical powers."

            I was going to tell him about our mind-bending herbal brownies but instead said, "Not really. Crazy stuff happens - that's all I can tell you."

          "So you don't have any control?"

          "Not really. One moment Daisy and I are just minding our own business and then poof, we've found ourselves at the North Pole, Greenland, Iceland and Ireland before arriving here. And who knows where we'll wind up next."

             "How long will you be staying here at the Isle of Man?"

          "I have no idea but we thought since we're here, we had better get your approval for safe journey especially after we wound up in the middle of the TT Race. It's amazing none of them crashed into us."

          "You were safe enough, all the drivers came to us before the race and we made sure there wouldn't be any serious accidents. Although there were a couple of them that were kind of snooty, thought we were just a plain old superstition, they ran into a few mishaps - nothing serious - just slowed then down."

          When the little man stood up and looked like he was about to leave I asked, "You're not the type that makes wishes come true are you, like if I wished for a pot of gold, you'd give it to me?"

          "No. Sorry. We're not like the genie in Aladdin's lamp. However, we did make an exception a long time ago when the Isle of Man was ruled by a very rich tyrant who enslaved many young women for his enjoyment. A frightened young lad caught one of us and he wanted three wishes in exchange for his captive. When he told us his situation, which involved the tyrant, they were granted, not because he held one of us captive (we can easily escape) but because his wishes seemed fair. The only thing that seemed strange about was that whatever he wished for, the tyrant would get double. His first wish to be rich only made the tyrant richer and the second wish to have twelve of the most beautiful women live with him seemed to be right up the tyrant's alley, that is, until the third wish was granted."

          "I don't get it. He made the tyrant richer and he now had two dozen of the most beautiful women in his harem - seems to me he already has more than a good deal."

          "It does doesn't it, that is, until we granted the young man's last wish to cut his sex appeal in half."

          Sounded like a far out tale to me but the little dude and I still got a big laugh out of it. I don't know why my belly hurt so much, whether it was because I was laughing so hard or because he was jumping up and down on it - either way it was a great belly laugh.

          Before leaving, we all ate a brownie or two or maybe three and then, while we were all laughing hysterically at absolutely nothing, poof...cheers, eh! 

         

          

           

           

EPISODE 5 - TRIP 'N DAISY FLY TO IRELAND

          Flying high via Bald Eagle-Express had me wondering where our next destination would be, landing safe and sound on the ground or at its aerie to feed its hungry young a couple of tidbits. Daisy wouldn't look out the window since she's not too keen on heights and believe me, we were high and in more ways than one. Perhaps feeling Daisy's concern, the gigantenormous eagle suddenly dipped it's wings and soared downwards towards the North Atlantic Ocean. Just when I thought the plunging eagle was going to dive into the sea, it suddenly put on the brakes and glided over the 60' waves. Man! What a rush! I almost crapped my pants!

        When you're trippin', you're trippin' and for how long this magnificent eagle skimmed along the ocean, dipping in and out of the roller's troughs, water higher than our heads, I have no idea. While marveling at the beauty of the high waves, I saw a chunk of land pop up over the horizon and before too long, we began soaring higher and higher. Then, like a jumbo-jet, the eagle suddenly dived towards the eastward greenery and soon landed on a narrow country road - we were in Ireland and heading towards Cork.

Blarney House

          Being the friendly hippie type we picked up a couple of hitchhikers who were on their way to Cork. While we shared some of Daisy's wonderful mind altering brownies, they told us if we did nothing else while in Ireland, we should visit Blarney Castle and kiss the Blarney stone. And of course, being a bit full of the blarney meself, called a silver-tongued devil in my younger years, that's where we headed. The Colthurst's, (owners) were very hospitable, not only did they allow us to park the Hippie Hangout in front of their medieval manor, they invited us in for a snack, which consisted of half a cow and all the trimmings imaginable. After partaking the substantial snack, my bellbottoms fitting tighter than a yellow polka dot bikini on a 400 lb. woman, we waddled off to their gardens on the way to Blarney Castle, which is only 200 yards away. They warned us about their Poison Garden that contained wolfsbane, which was fenced in and never let out, especially when the moon was full. We were told to stay away from their pet werewolf but a weird wolf wearing a red hood was permitted. The gardens, which of course were very beautiful this time of year were great but the expanse of lawns proved to be very bountiful - magical-shrooms abounded everywhere!

Blarney Castle

          By the time we arrived at Blarney Castle, we were giggling so much, I didn't even remember climbing the stone stairs to the top of the tower where the Blarney Stone is situated.  Legend has it, you'll gain the gift of eloquence if you kiss this very famous stone. Kissing a cod fish in Newfoundland hadn't been a problem for Daisy, but kissing the stone was a real dilemma. It wasn't just  the height but because in order to kiss the stone, you have to hang out over the parapet backwards with someone holding onto your heels so you don't fall to your death. And I have to give Daisy kudos because after I kissed the stone (must have had a little extra magic in it) because it seemed to make me more powerful and she let me dangle her by her heels why she planted a big fat kiss on the stone.
          I don't know if it was the shrooms or brownies but I was really trippin' by the time we arrived back at the Hippie Hangout. Feeling a little amorous, I wrapped my arms around Daisy as we stretched out on our bed and poof!... cheers, eh! 

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ICELAND - HOME OF VIKINGS - Episode 4 - World Wild Magical Tour

          How long the Hippie-Hangout flipped through the air, I have no idea but when it materialized on a narrow twisty road, I thought we were time travelling rather than having a mind-blowing experience. I could scarce believe my eyes, coming towards us in the middle of the road appeared to be a viking wearing a helmet containing a set of horns riding a bicycle. I don't know who's eyes bugged out the most, his or ours?  

Drangey Island

          Shortly after passing the strange looking man, we met some other residents and learned that we had landed on Iceland. However, stranger yet, it was rumoured that a clan of actual vikings from the 10th century also lived here, their exact whereabouts unknown but thought to be residing in some caves located on nearby Drangey Island. The Icelanders weren't too surprised that we had come across a viking, even riding a bicycle, because they were suspected of sneaking about and pillaging the country side, especially on dark and stormy nights. And occasionally, a viking ship had been spotted, its sail silhouetted by the moon.

I'd somehow have to imagine being on Drangey Island because meeting a real live viking was a must. However, before checking out a viking's lair, we had to make one more stop - the John Lennon Imagine Peace Tower. After all, that's what our Hippie-Hangout is all about - groovin' to peace and love.

          While we were parked at the Peace Tower, which had been built by Oko Yono (Lennon's wife) Daisy baked a delicious pan of brownies (her own magical recipe). After having a few bites, the sweet chocolaty flavour bursting in my mouth, I stretched out on the bed and set my mind free. Suddenly as if we were cart-wheeling through the heavens, a star-burst of thoughts expanding into one, we soon found ourselves on Drangey Island, but without the trailer, which seemed a little odd. It was good timing though, because the vikings were having a feast and we had the munchies. I'm not sure if we were a mirage or if they were because no one seemed to notice us when we sat down on one of the benches at the long wooden table where everyone else was seated and gorging themselves with fist-fulls of meat, the blood dripping off their chins. We tried conversing but didn't understand Norwegian, if that's what they were even speaking. The only standout word was "Odin", which was spoken often, they all lifted their mugs of ale high into the air and cheered. They were a rugged looking group of people, some dressed in furs, hides and others in crotch-tight Spandex. However, as the evening merriment continued, they began to look at us a little oddly, to which Daisy passed her pan of brownies around. Before long, everyone was smiling and then laughing hysterically, especially when the man we met on the road rode in on his bicycle and then instantly fell over. Whether it was the copious amount of food, drink or brownies or a combination thereof, almost in unison, the vikings began to fall asleep and then poof; we were back inside our trailer parked near the Peace Tower.

          I guess my imagination was on overdrive because when I awoke and found myself rubbing the sleep from my eyes, a large shadow descended over our Hippie Hangout and poof; a giant eagle suddenlyhad swooped down and was carrying us skyward...cheers, eh!

A WHALE OF A TALE - 3rd Episode - Trip 'n Daisy's Magical World Tour

          Bright psychedelic images flashed through my mind like an out of control kaleidoscope while Daisy and I were relaxing in the Hippie Hangout with a small group of friendly Greenlanders. Then jumpin'-Jack-flash quick, the next thing I knew, the truck and trailer were parked on top of a gargantuan whale's back almost surfing through the icy North Atlantic Ocean. Thankfully the sea is calm as I gather my wits and take in our surroundings but all I can see is water in every direction. Daisy is as astonished as me as she looks out the front starboard window and casually says, "Whatever. Icebergs, polar bears, why not take a trip on a huge freaking whale!"
          The thing about the sea, which really hits home, is when all the land, everything a person is familiar with, suddenly dips below the horizon and completely disappears. Earth doesn't seem the same any more even though you can feel it breathing; the mighty rollers going up and down with each breath. If you've never felt small before, it's like becoming a mere speck, a very humbling experience. 
      As wave after wave slithers across the whale's back and splashes up against the truck and trailer, splattering the front window with white foam, I'm mesmerized as I watch the effervescent bubbles pop and think to myself, wow, what a trip! This is so cool! I'd seen whales before, big whales too, but they were in the North Pacific when my buddies Winston, George and I sailed towards the Aleutian Islands on our way to the Northwest Passage. However, now as I looked towards the behemoth's head, a tower of water shooting skyward out of its blowhole as high as the Eiffel Tower, I'd never before seen such a gigantic whale. It was one whale of a whale! 

          In this crazy imaginative world where Daisy and I sometimes exist, I didn't think too much of it when the whale began singing like a beautiful mermaid - that is - until more whales began emerging from the depths. Surrounded by a chorus of whales, the notes trippin' along the waves and echoing in the troughs, it wasn't until large schools of dolphins joined in that a rhapsody of peace and love filled me to the core. Daisy must have been familiar with their music selection because she suddenly stood up and swaying to the beat of the splashing waves began to sing in a voice akin to Janice Joplin: 
                       Oh Lord, won't you
                       Buy me a Mercedes Benz
                       My friends all drive Porsches
                       I must make amends...                                        

          Their song choice seemed a little odd, but to an old hippie like me, it took me back to my younger days when my hair wasn't the colour of snow and I was able to leap a bar stool in a single bound, considered jumping off tall buildings, because sometimes, depending on my mind's condition, I was certain I could fly. Lost in Daisy's melodic words, combined with the backup chorus of the ocean denizens, I closed my eyes and like a sea breeze, let my mind drift, when poof! I heard the slap of the whale's fluke hit the surface of the sea and then, before I knew it, our Dodge Ram truck and Hippie Hangout were somersaulting through the clear blue sky...cheers, eh! 

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TRIPPIN' FROM THE NORTH POLE TO SOUTHERN GREENLAND - to be continued

          The thing about trippin' is not to be in a big rush, constantly on the run taking in one sight after another. Daisy and I find it better if we go with the flow and wind up in some mysterious place, even if we miss out on something that's been touted in a tourist's guide. Mind you, with my high-octave chemo-brain somewhat out of control, we're certainly discovering that the unplanned is definitely more exciting and more memorable; nothing like rubbing shoulders with the locals - man or beast. I mean, what could be much slower than hitching a ride on an iceberg at the North Pole as it drifts towards the southern tip of Greenland? And the polar bear that was coming towards us in the last blog didn't turn out to be as scary as we thought. As a matter a fact, even though a mama bear is very protective of her cubs, she was anything but dangerous once we got to know her.

          When Polly the friendly polar bear and her 2 cubs arrived and began sniffing around our Hippie Hangout and growling at us, we were more than a little alarmed, actually, I almost crapped my bell-bottom jeans. Now, I suppose you're wondering how does one become friends with a polar bear, especially a mama with two sucking cubs? I'm not sure if how we became friends was the best way but one of the times she stuck her snout through the trailer window, we gave her a good hit off the bong. From then on, the iceberg was home to us all; "live and let live" was our motto. 

          Polly was very hospitable, even clawed off a chunk of raw seal meat for us to enjoy. Tasted a bit like sushi to me but I could tell by the odd expression on Daisy's face, she wasn't too partial eating seal. And of course Polly wasn't overly fond of the things we preferred to eat but I can tell you one thing; she and her cubs really liked Daisy's brownies - eat enough of those and instead of being on an iceberg floating down Davis Strait, we were on another planet. Yup, we were all bosom friends by the time we sighted Greenland. However, if you've never seen a polar bear smile - let me tell you - it's a little unnerving because all you can see is a mouthful of teeth and very large sharp teeth, I might add. 

            As you can see by the top photo, by the time the iceberg reached Greenland, the warm summer days under the midnight sun took its toll - there wasn't too much ice left above water. And, when it finally nudged ashore we bid farewell to Polly and her youngsters and headed towards the town of Nanortalik, which unbeknownst to me meant "place of polar bears", actually Polly's home town.

          The folks of Nanortalik were of course stunned by the appearance of our trailer, which seemed to magically appear out of nowhere but like Polly the friendly polar bear, they soon took to us. Wasn't long before we were all the best of buddies gathered about our table in the Hippie Hangout passing around the bong and nibbling on Daisy's magical brownies, when poof!...cheers, eh!

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TRAVEL ALONG WITH TRIP 'N DAISY ON THEIR MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR - to be continued...

             Living near the base of Green Mountain can be really rewarding, since it's not uncommon to see a dainty deer nibbling in the swaying grass or a big old black bear strolling through the yard. Since battling with cancer, 3 operations combined with chemo-radiation for almost 2 years and still on that bumpy, curvy road of recovery, I sometimes let my imagination travel where physically and financially I'm unable to ramble. I had dreams of a cross-Canada trip in our Hippie Hangout (1973 Falcon) and painted it all up for its maiden journey and that may still occur next year but for now, I simply just open the door and imagine I'm someplace else in the world other than in the driveway. And poof! Just like magic; I'm off with Daisy by my side for an incredible magical ride.

          The other day, the humidity was as thick as a damp sponge and the mosquitoes were as big as my fist banging on the door, when my Daisy and I made a dash from the house to the Hippie Hangout. How we managed to get through the door without letting any of those pesky critters inside was beyond me. While I was sipping a near-beer (can't drink real beer anymore since the last time I imbibed I went blind for a short spell) and Daisy was chasing an olive with her fingers in her glass of gin and tonic, I just let my mind drift and abracadabra, the trailer began shaking. And before I knew it as I looked through the window at the psychedelic colors whizzing by or perhaps exploding inside my head, our driveway turned into a highway and not being too much different than Dorothy's yellow brick road to the land of Oz, we were on our way! 

             It seemed like only an instant had passed and it must be so, since I hadn't yet taken a swallow nor had Daisy plucked the olive out of her glass. There we were, truck and trailer parked on a majestic iceberg at the North Pole of all places. Now, I've voyaged to the northern hemisphere before via sailboat that hammered its way through the ice but never like this. And if being parked on an iceberg wasn't surprising enough, when we stepped outside, you wouldn't believe the astonished expressions on a small group of Inuit hunters. Their maws were so wide open, they could have swallowed a beluga whale whole. Dressed in bright tie-dyed hippie-fashion shirts and bell-bottom jeans, Daisy's hair adorned in flowers and wearing beads around our necks, like the trailer, we must have looked really out of place too.

             However, in these remarkable days of holograms, space travel and not like the arctic days of old, it wasn't long before we became great friends, the hunters even shared some whale blubber with us. And as we sat and chatted, I thought why not and went back inside the trailer and got something we could all share as well.

          As we passed the bong around, the stories we all told began to get more absurd and the laughter even louder. And of course before we knew it, the munchies set in, so Daisy brought out a huge platter of tasty morsels, which we happily devoured in short time. Since the sun doesn't set (24 hours of daylight) in the arctic at this time of year, we had a great day of merriment before the Inuit paddled off in their kayaks. The quietness that ensued was as sparkling as the glistening ice, not a mosquito could be heard. However, when we spotted a prowling polar bear ambling towards us (humans on their menu) we decided to head inside the Hippie Hangout. Not being sure if we were in danger or not, I let my imagination take over and poof!...cheers, eh!

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ROOM 254 - Short Story for a Contest

Booksie 2019 Short Story Contest - Contest Entries

I just wrote a short story for a contest, which I think almost anybody would enjoy. Check it out and let me know what you think...cheers, eh! Click on the link above - thanks.

1.5 PERCENT, book by len sherman

1.5 PERCENT, book by len sherman

I've just written a novel. Check it out the first chapter and let me know if you would like to read more. Please like or better yet, leave a comment at the contest link listed above. Cheers, eh!