Justin Matott's Blog, page 2

Before I was a writer, I was a reader and the VERY BES...

Before I was a writer, I was a reader
and the VERY BEST thing for me as a boy was MAD MAGAZINE. I was
fortunate to have a mom who had one rule about room cleaning and that
was "If your door is shut, I don't care how you keep it!" That meant
Mom never ventured in to throw away my Hot Rod Cards or Mad Magazines, which are now stored safely in my basement. In 1974 I had the Mad Magazine (pictured here) which began my quest; To see the
movie it parodied. Being a Catholic boy, there was something very,
very dangerous and delicious about pondering the evil potential within
the story. I was SO scared of it, it
was like a single lamp in the backyard that draws and destroys the moth
who continually bangs against it. I HAD TO SEE IT! But Mom said
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" For you younger readers, please bear in mind that at this time our black and white television showed four channels and a test pattern of an Indian in a head dress. The
point I was trying to make was that this was a much more innocent time,
when there were NO slasher movies on tv, just the black and white
Creature Features with The Werewolf, Dracula and The Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman. I
have always loved scary stories and for some reason because October is
the month of Halloween, I always watch scary movies during the month and
read a book that is in the Horror genre.











So last night, after the
lights were out in my house and everyone was in bed except me, I sneaked
into my office and watched THE SCARIEST movie I have ever seen. It
pulled me back to the year 1975, the year I was born. Ahem... okay, not
exactly, but a year that would lodge itself in my memories because of
ONE fateful night, and ONE fateful movie and ONE fateful error in
judgment. It all came flooding back to
me last night in such a real way that I literally know what it feels
like to have the hair stand on end on the back of your neck.









First; the MORAL OF THE STORY - MOM IS ALWAYS RIGHT! The way to live a better, saner, fuller life - LISTEN TO MOM!



In 1975 I was a boy
emerging into the decade of impending teenagedom. My parents were
fairly, to be honest, really liberal and a bit lax in their parenting
skills. Both were college professors and somehow the space they gave
their students translated to the way they parented.




However, I must say it was an easier time. We ran in packs and no
one messes with a pack of kids, especially in a then country
neighborhood! No one was worried about a kid barely in
his double digits staying out 'till two in the morning on a hot, summer
night because everyone slept in their backyards (kids anyway)in the
summer. There were a few rules of course: NO LAKE OR POND after dark
(unless there were at least five of you together). No crossing the highway after dark! Stay
off the railroad track after dark. SOMEHOW everything cool happened
after dark and I wasn't supposed to have any of the fun.


I was sitting up in my tree house with a couple of my pals and down below us there were some teenagers (they didn't know we were up there.) They
were smoking cigarettes and talking in loud whispers about how
terrifying the movie they had seen the night before was. Blow by blow
they talked about The Exorcist, which to that point I only knew about through the view of Mad Magazine. They talked about the scenes everyone who ever saw that movie has been unable to erase from their minds.



When the three teens jumped in their hot rod Mustang with a "Let's go see it again!" Me and my two buddies made a pact. We were going to go see it. We made a plan which would require us to break SO many rules. We knew our Moms would NEVER let us see
the movie and that we would be grounded FOREVER if we walked down the
highway at night, so we made an alternate plan, which would end up
breaking even more rules.




The next night we would each tell our moms that we were sleeping in the other's backyard tent (FIRST BROKEN RULE, LYING). Then right before dark, since The Exorcist was the second feature and we didn't want to be spotted in daylight, we would head down the railroad track (SECOND BROKEN RULE, RAILROAD TRACK AND DARK)which would take us the three miles to the outdoor Drive-In Theater past a lake and a pond (THIRD BROKEN RULE, AFTER DARK BODY OF WATER) and then we would have to cross the highway (FOURTH BROKEN RULE, CROSSING THE HIGHWAY AT NIGHT) to sneak into the drive-in theater (FIFTH BROKEN RULE, STEALING BY NOT PAYING TO GET IN) Where we'd stand out in the middle of the gravel lot, next to the speakers and watch the forbidden movie (SIXTH BROKEN RULE, DIRECTLY IGNORING A SPECIFIC RULE MOM SET DOWN) We'd all been there before with our respective parents, but this time we were hoofin' it!




At the last minute one of my buddies chickened out and so it was only going to be the two of us. Me and a kid we called PeePot
because of his propensity to wait too long to go to the bathroom and
then frequently wet his pants (not exactly a guy you wanted spending the
night in your tent). Both of us wanted desperately to beg off the
dare, but neither wanted to lose face. So we stuffed our pockets with candy for the movie and headed out.




It took us forever to walk down that dark railroad track. The only
time there was light to keep us from tripping on almost every railroad
tie was the time the train came, sending us both hurdling down the
incline, getting a bit scratched up from our overreaction. It seemed
with every step it got darker as we ventured further out into the middle
of nowhere.




Where was the moon? All I
remember is with every passing half mile the terror began to grow to the
point where neither of us spoke, because we couldn't. We both had
FICM, fear-induced-cotton-mouth and we weren't even there yet. Just
when I thought I would panic I realized we were where we needed to turn
up a gravel road running directly into the old outdoor movie theater.




Even though not technically a
highway, several cars came over hills catching us like 'deer in the
headlights' and we would hear voices yelling at us to "GET OUT OF THE
ROAD, STUPID!" and stuff like that. We began to jog and I swear I could
hear something sloshing when Pee-Pot was running next to me. We both
breathed a huge sigh of relief as we secreted our way across the highway
and then slipped under the fence, finding our way to an empty spot
where the speakers hung on the post. We stood far enough away from cars that no one should notice two kids standing at the DRIVE-in.



And then it happened, the credits rolled and suddenly we were in
ancient Iraq at an archeological dig. "WHAT GIVES? THIS IS LIKE A
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MOVIE?" I complained loudly, but secretly a bit relieved that this wasn't going to be quite as terrifying as I had thought.




Soon enough young Regan's head was spinning like a top and floating
around her room with the scariest face I had ever seen. She was using
phrases I didn't understand and language that would earn me a bar of
Lava in the kisser if I ever repeated any of them (mom wasn't too
liberal about that one.) By the end of the movie I wasn't sure if
Pee-Pot was the only one who would have that nickname from that night
on. I WAS T E R R I F I E D! Pee-Pot's eyes were so wide I thought he
would never blink again. I was sure the whole place was going to go up in smoke for showing such a movie.







I have never been that
scared in my life and we had three miles of dark road ahead of me and
by now it was well after midnight. We somehow hadn't counted on the
three mile trek back in the now terrifying, "possessed" night
darkness when we made the decision to go see the scariest movie ever made.






EVERY twig that snapped or coyote that
howled convinced me with every step that I was becoming possessed like
poor Regan. Pee-Pot completely lost the ability to speak and even
though it was too dark to see his face, I was sure he was crying most of
the way home.



I had never noticed how comforting the streetlight across the road
from my house was at night, but seeing it as we crested the hill was
like a beacon leading me home. Neither Pee-Pot nor I said a word, we
both just knew there was NO sleeping in our tents that short night (by
now it was around three in the morning).



I sneaked up the metal ladder that was below my window, against the
house and pulled the screen off and squeezed my way in. I slipped down
into my bed and pushed myself deep down under a cover in my bed, even
though it was a hot summer night, I needed to be cocooned. Suddenly my
bed felt like it was moving and I was sure I was about to begin
floating.



I lay there wide awake, unable to close my eyes as they darted to
and fro wondering when my dresser was going to scoot across the floor
and pin me against the wall. I was totally terrified until the sun came
up. It was the first night in my life I had stayed up ALL night.
Though it was comforting to see the sun come up on the darkest night of
my life, somehow I knew night would be sneaking up on me again too soon.



The worst part of my disobedience was that I couldn't tell anyone
that I was so scared or why. I had to suffer night terrors for about a
month before the raw, scary emotional response to seeing something I was
WAY too young to see with not parental comfort began to subside.



I learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life that night
about listening to people who know a bit more about things than I do. I
also decided that for the meantime, the parodies of adult movies in Mad Magazine
were more my style and didn't feel compelled to go see something that I
couldn't handle. If Mom said "NO!", then that was an answer. I would
listen to more.



I confessed to the activities of that dark and scary night when I
was in high school when enough time had passed and we could all "laugh
about it". Mom told me Pee Pot had ratted me out back then because he
was so scared he had slept with his parents for about six months. When I
asked her why she hadn't confronted me about it back then, she said
something like, "Are you kidding me? You were the most compliant,
helpful, obedient kid for the next month that I'd ever seen and I could
see you were punishing yourself enough. I didn't have the heart to do
more." 



I said it before and I will say it again: The MORAL OF THE STORY - MOM IS ALWAYS RIGHT! The way to live a better, saner, fuller life - LISTEN TO MOM!




I had all but forgotten this horrific chapter in my early life until I once again watched The Exorcist
all these years later and it all came back to me. I literally remember
exactly how I felt the first time I dipped my toe into terrifying story
telling. Though I am mature enough now to handle the terror and have a
clear understand that it is simply a story of God winning, it is not
like the cotton candy of my youth, which the last time I was at an
amusement park made me wonder how I at one time in my life considered it
one of my top five favorite foods. No, The Exorcist
has remained horrifying and good storytelling to this day. I asked the
question of my friends on facebook, What is the scariest movie you have
ever seen and 40%+ named this movie.



Nothing since has come close, though the fear I felt at two in the
morning not that long ago, after returning from seeing the Midnight
Movie showing of The Ring with a buddy set me up a bit. Once I entered
my dark, cold house and my phone started ringing that old fear gripped
me hard until I looked out the window and saw my buddy gripping his cell
phone and laughing hard at what must have been a white face with
too-wide eyes. I haven't gotten him back for that one yet, but I
will... BOOHAHAHAHA...



Now all these years later, I write stories and have been working on a scary one for years titled THE MAN IN THE WOODS, which I won't release until I am sure it holds the same terror for the reader that this movie held for me once.



But, generally, in my GP series, something from real life sparks my
inspiration for my character's activities. This real life incident I
have just told (in a too long for blog story, nod with me now) will
surely show up in book 5 or 6 as something either Gabe and his friends
do or something their older brothers do. Either way, it will have a
similar backfire effect.





As
a Catholic schoolboy I knew Thou Shalt Obey Your Mother and Father was
one of the big TEN. Believe me after that experience I did a bit more obeying for a long, long time!












Still, I wish I could head out tonight to the Drive-In, but alas, it seems for the most part, they are gone from the landscape of our modern world.

A facebook friend of mine asked me if I would repost this...

A facebook friend of mine asked me if I would repost this post this entry.  I have been so busy recently that recycling a post seems logical to me!  I am almost finished with a book I am writing, then I will return to my blogging with more regularity. 
She told me of all the things I have written (does that include my
books?) that this is by far her favorite and should somehow become a
book.



What do you think?



As my trees
are so heavy laden with blossoms and I envision a HUGE BUMPER CROP of
peaches and apples this year, as long as the squirrels don't interfere, I
am wondering if I should again set the trap out there???



The
post below was originally put up last summer. The reason I have
reprised it is that it has happened again... Who knew raccoons would
fight squirrels for a cinnabon? For you, my readers, there is one thing
I want to make totally clear; I LOVE ANIMALS and the reason I am
trapping is to give them opportunity for a better life (there is an
awesome field nearby where the cottonwood trees shade my favorite
running path and a creek burbles noisily into a pond all summer long.
Food is ample and the opportunity to meet the opposite sex is much
better! The digs there are much more squirrel friendly than my back
yard. So I carefully move them from my yard to what to a squirrel has
to be heaven on earth in my wife's SUV, much to her dismay...

"Why don't you ever use your own for this?"
"Well, your SUV is wider and it is easier to move the trap in and out..."
EYE ROLL, SHOULDER SHRUG, DISMISSIVE LOOK (come on, you know the one my matrimonially embarked friends)

My
new neighbors have a BIG, new dog who loves to torment the critters in
our adjoining yards (and stomp all over my newly planted seedlings,
perhaps I need a bigger trap?) So the mother squirrel (a leftover from
last year) protects her next by jumping from tree to tree, chattering
angrily and tossing pine cones at his head. He is so enamoured with her
that he sticks around, usually long enough to ahem... relieve himself.
Did I mention he is a BIG dog? Further reason to simply get the
critters that draw him to our yard out of here!

My own Italian
Greyhound cannot stand to have the squirrels in our backyard and of
course the mother squirrel has built her nest in the pine tree right off
of my dog's favorite window so there is no doubt she is moving about
back there. I work at home and my dog DRIVES ME CRAZY RUNNING FROM
WINDOW TO WINDOW when they move about in the yard. But the BIGGEST
reason I simply must move them is my "peach orchard" which is bound to
have a bountiful harvest this year (still eating peach smoothies from
the peaches I froze last summer). The squirrels have a very annoying
habit. I actually wouldn't mind sharing a peach or two with them, we
have plenty, but what they do is climb the tree take a bite, toss it
down to the lawn, take another bite, toss it down to the lawn. Who
wants to eat a peach a squirrel slobbered on?

I think now that I
am up to 10 peach trees in my suburban neighborhood, I can call it an
orchard, so there must be squirrel memos that go out "PARTY AT THE
MATOTT'S! Peaches, all you can eat! Come on by for the open house!"

By
the way, I got a postcard from "RICKY", the dude pictured above. He
recently honeymooned in Cabo and is looking forward to getting back to
the "awesome place I left him" last summer. He will be happy to know he
is to be joined by another relocated raccoon today!



We
had a bear within a mile of our house yesterday. I wonder if he/she
knew about the grill (mentioned within this blog) and was coming back
for more. If there are going to be bears in the hood this summer, I
better get a bigger trap for sure!



Though
I didn't get comments on this posting last year, I got numerous emails
about it, all positive. I hope you enjoy it and LET THIS YEAR'S TRAP
TALLY BEGIN!





If
you read my earlier blog about catch and release you might not
recognize this little guy as the subject I was hoping to catch and
release and neither did I. This dude or dudette was apparently hanging
out in my backyard, unbeknownst to me likely feeding off my compost pile
and decided that he or she would rather enjoy the wonderful toast and
peanut butter spread I had left for one of the three million squirrels
already taking the peaches off our trees.





I
awakened one morning last week earlier than the sun and from my office
window, looking out over my back yard, I could tell that the trap had
closed during the night. It looked like something larger than a
squirrel was in there, but it was too dark to tell. I had visions of
SUPER SQUIRREL, a strange thirty pound Guinness World record holder
being held captive in my backyard. As the sun came up it became
apparent to me that I had likely caught one of my neighbor's cats and
not Super Squirrel. I was trying to write a chapter for one of my
upcoming chapter books but my curiosity kept my mind wandering. Then
when I walked out into the garden realizing simply by the sound coming
from the area where the trap was that this was no cat and this was no
squirrel. No, this was a hissing, angry raccoon who simply wanted a
little PBJ and then was hoping to be on his way... but got caught my
amateur trapper-bonehead yours truly.





Having
loved where the red fern grows and being permanently scarred by what a
raccoon will and can do to a dog or anyone else it decides to have a
beef with and having heard stories about how vicious these critters can
be when trapped I decided I needed help before I did anything about this
predicament. I went to the most reliable source I could find to
determine what to do... google.com. As I perused the page, it first
said: "UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE SHOULD YOU TRAP YOUR OWN RACCOON, HIRE A
PROFESSIONAL AND DON'T BE A CHEAPSKATE!" Okay, I wasn't being cheap, I
didn't intend to trap this dude. Then the warnings about the likely
outcome of letting this angry dude go scared me even more. The website
actually tried to tell me the preferred method of relocation would be to
heaven. I am NOT going to harm an animal that simply wants to eat a
free PBJ and live freely, but that I don't want simply living in my
backyard, eating my garden's bounty and my orchard. SO... as I read on,
the website chided me further about being a cheapskate (it must have
been posted by someone who makes his or her living relocating animals
and doesn't like the novice trapper-releaser-relocator) and told me if I
insisted on doing this myself I should arm my self well and wish for
the best.




After
sufficiently feeling belittled and a bit frightened, I headed out into
the already 80 degree morning wearing heavy boots and socks, jeans, a
flannel shirt, heavy leather work gloves and a bandana tied around my
face (to ward off the websites warnings of distemper, plague and many
other possibilities if this dude simply coughs in my SUV as I am
relocating which can relocate me
to heaven). As I lifted the crate, he or she lunged at me, hissing and
making sure I understood that once released, he or she was aiming for
my carotid artery and I just might be spending my last summer moments on
earth.




I
carried the cage with a wildly gyrating and noisy raccoon as
outstretched from my body as possible and set it gently into the back of
my SUV. Did I mention the website also mentioned that it was illegal
in most states to relocate a raccoon? SO, here I was setting off to
commit a possible felony with a very angry, plague ridden animal in the
back of my SUV. I had all the windows down and the back door open so
air could flow backwards and keep his plaguey breath away from me. I
intended to do only California stops (a potential misdemeanor) so the
air couldn't double back and descend upon me in the way plague tends to
do, at least in my overactive imagination. I headed to a wonderfully
wooded area, near an elementary school where I imagined my angry buddy
living the good life and actually appreciating my thoughtfulness.
Perhaps he might even send me a Christmas card with a picture of his new
wife and family, all thanks to my kind desire to simply relocate him to
a place better suited for wildlife.




As
I eased my way down in to the elementary school parking lot and readied
myself for what was to possibly be the last moments of my life as I
knew it, I noticed another car descending into the parking lot too, the
difference between that car and mine was that it had sirens and the
words SHERIFF on the doors as well as a burly man in a uniform with a
"don't mess with me" look on his face. Here I was on an early-getting
hotter by the moment-morning, in the outfit I mentioned previously and
the bandana now tucked up into my hat to protect not only my airways,
but to pull up over my eyes in case this particular varmint preferred
eye gouging to simply chewing of skin and arteries. The sheriff pulled
around the parking lot and nodded at me like this was something he saw
every day. I nodded back and he looked at me like the next move was
mine.




SO
I waited a sufficient amount of time since our last eye-lock and
started my engine slowly easing my way out of the parking lot, having
pulled the bandana down as though just a neck decoration and holding my
breath for somewhere around ten minutes, he pulled up and stopped near
the exit to the parking lot and as I glided past him, back doors of the
SUV open, a chattering, banging raccoon giving my stereo a run for its
money, I gave him the "guy nod" and started into a neighborhood, where I
figured at the next vacant stop sign I would gift these people's pesky
squirrels with a little buddy to play with. It seemed like every four
way stop sign had four way busyness to keep me from exporting my little
friend so I drove on for what seemed like hours, sticking my head out
the window every time I inhaled through my bandana, taking huge gulps of
fresh, non plague or distemper tainted air.




Finally
I came to a HUGE open space with a running stream, lots of tall trees
and what seemed like the perfect place to let this dude out. Did I
mention that during this entire episode, the little guy was banging,
bending and screaming at ever increasing in volume intervals? I pulled
over, checked my mirrors and backed into a little dirt drive. I went to
the back, pulled the cage out, while holding the clawed garden hoe that
was to be my defense against the raccoon's attack. He was hissing,
jumping, banging and screaming at me. I got into the back of my SUV and
pulled the door as closed as I could in this awkward position, sticking
the hoe out through the few inches of open door and imagined him
running around the side of the vehicle and leaping into one of the open
windows, thus trapping me inside for my flesh tearing session. I
grabbed the catch that holds the trap shut with the hoe from inside the
SUV and pulled back, it went up about three inches and then crashed
down loudly clanging further enraging the possibly rabid raccoon, who
must have thought I was just toying with him.




Thoughts
of bullfighters and viciously angry bulls came to mind and how a
trapped bull will turn on the matador and then gore him, throwing him
ten feet into the air. Suddenly it seemed that this large cat-sized
raccoon could do just that. I pulled with all my might holding the cage
door open and he just sat there. I waited for what seemed like an
hour, my arms falling asleep, my heart beating so loud he must have
heard it, reminding me of the things I had heard about animals sensing
fear and capitalizing on it by tearing their captors in two.




Then
I did what anyone would do that wanted the raccoon to be calm when he
finally emerged from the trap, I began screaming at the top of my lungs,
"GO YOU BIG DUMMY, MOVE! GET OUT OF THERE!" Suddenly, he sprang into
action, he began to scurry out of the trap like a bat out of
H-E-Double-Toothpicks! A sense of relief overtook me as he emerged and
ran the opposite way of my SUV. Then just as I thought this little
mistaken episode was over, he stopped and turned, his yellow fangs
glinting in the sunlight and looked right into my eyes, which were just
slits behind the bandana. Did I mention I was drenched in sweat from
the heat, now approaching 110 degrees in the SUV covered by more clammy
sweat from sheer ice cold fear?




He
looked at me with intent. Suddenly I saw his little masked face and
couldn't help but think that he was awful darn cute. He nodded up and
down as though to say "Hey thanks a lot dude, this place is SWEET!"




He
jumped down the little concrete curb and scurried off into the tall
grass, his funny little body bumping up and down heading across the
field headed right for the tall cottonwood trees I had intended for him
to find. I pulled the bandana off my face and jumped out of the SUV and
shouted HAVE FUN DUDE! Then I stripped off the flannel shirt, pulled
off my boots and socks and headed for home (driving barefoot is at least
a misdemeanor).




That
night I had about three hundred dreams that the raccoon was on my front
porch, back porch, garage, bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and pretty much
everywhere else I frequented including my regular Starbucks! Believe it
or not, he was behind the counter waiting in cahoots with my regular
barista to size up my tip and attitude deciding if it was going to be
the carotid or the face that got attacked first.




Several
days passed and no signs of him returning, but alas, I thought, another
squirrel was in there that I would have to find a new home for (this is
getting old) No, not a squirrel, I awakened to something strange in
the cage. Sitting there staring at me in my office was a huge black
bird, trapped by my peanut butter treat. That relocation was the
easiest; I opened the cage, the bird flew away and all I lost in the
deal was some bread. Come to find out, it didn't like the peanut butter
after all.




SO,
the current backyard count is 4 squirrels, 1 raccoon and 1 bird all
happily living elsewhere. My next door neighbor, amused at my early
morning Daniel Boone forays, said something yesterday that terrified me,
"What are you going to do if you catch a skunk?"




Do skunks like peanut butter? Back to google, I'll let you know.
Oh and by the way, after further research I have found out that I
wasn't breaking any laws, Colorado is one state where you can, by law,
relocate a racoon, but not a fox? And that thing about driving
barefoot. I don't know if that is urban legend or if you really have to
have shoes on to drive a car.




Did
I mention that a few years back a black bear disassembled my backyard
grill partially? Then she left her footprints in my next door
neighbor's kid's sandbox. How did I know she was a she? She was on the
news. She had fallen asleep in a tree a few miles away. Perhaps the
heavy grease from the drippings in my grill made her tired. I just hope
her babies don't like peanut butter.

Birth day - Birth Mom

 On the eve of my birthday, I want to give thanks to the woman who carried me for 9 months of true hardship. 9 months that were physically, emotionally and psychologically straining and then she did one of the hardest things a woman will ever do; she gave her baby away.  She gave me away. 

She knew my life would be better with a different family and MAN OH MAN was she right (it's a long story, one that I have actually written a yet unpublished book). 




I don't have an earlier picture of myself than the one above. 
The picture was taken the day my mom and dad brought me home at six
months. 



Her life's testimony since is encouraging to many people, especially women.  Our story is one that encourages and has allowed me to speak to groups that minister to young women who are making tough decisions as they are carrying "unwanted" children.  My youngest son, Ethan, used our story in Uganda this past month as he ministered to pregnant teenage girls to encourage them.  




You see, as my all time favorite bumper sticker said: 'GOD DON'T MAKE JUNK!' with a picture of a little baby next to it. The picture above could have fit on that bumper sticker.




I am not, nor ever was a "mistake".  The circumstances surrounding my birth were in many ways horrible and tragic, but I WAS NO MISTAKE and neither are those unwed mother's babies!  I don't mean for my blog to be political or devisive in any way, but the most startling thing I found out the morning I met my birth mother was that she had tried to abort me, not once, but twice.  Her life circumstances were so desperate and hellish that she felt out of choices, so she desperately searched for a resolution that might help her preserve her life and those of her three children. 

I have never told the story about finding my birth mother without the person I am telling either crying and/or telling me to finish the book, you see, she isn't the same person she was when she carried me.  Ours is a story of hope, faith and grace. She has a faith in God that she is loved, forgiven and free of any guilt and I bear no ill feelings about the past. God had a plan for me then and he still does now. 
 

 She is my birth mother and the reason I can celebrate my birthdays in spite of her earlier tragic circumstances.  




My mom, the woman who raised me, used to tell me on my birthdays that there was a special woman out there who gave her one of her greatest gifts; me.  




My mom was thankful for her and so am I.   

Please hug your mom!

Today was my mom's birthday.  I say was because I don't think birthdays are a big thing in heaven because everyday is like a celebrated birthday there!



This was my status update on Facebook this morning:




Today, I lift a glass to toast my mom. She has been gone since I was in
my twenties, but she is so ever present in my heart and my personality.
She (and dad) adopted me when I was a baby, but she never let me
forget that "she worked damn hard" to get me. Today was her official
birthday, but true to form for my mom and her unique style, she wouldn't
celebrate her birthday on the same day as D-Day, so she unofficially
changed it. Here's to a wonderful mom, who is so often missed!


Immediately my friends started LIKING the status.  This tells me two things, I have thoughtful friends and MOMS are popular!



My mom was an unpretentious scholar.  She was very loved by students and staff at the university she spent most of her career at.  My mom was a tough as nails first generation immigrant. She was a no BS'r and taught me there is no room for excuses.  The last thing my mom said in the ICU was to a nurse, "My son is a Vice President!"  Mom was very proud of my accomplishment in the business world.  My goal had been to hold the title of Vice President by thirty and I beat it by a few years, just in time for my mom to see "her boy had made something of himself".



Then my mom died. I was heartbroken and lost in many ways.  I tried to make sense of it all. I had two young sons and she needed to stay to be their grandma.  She needed to stay because I needed her.  She needed to stay because she was AWESOME!  I loved and liked my mom with an intensity that could only come from the fact that we had three years of battling and sadly a year like the cold war, where we both simply avoided each other.  Then I called her after listening to a friend tell me how much he hated his mom and I watched as his hatred was all consuming.  I realized in that moment that I had a chance to do the right thing, so I called her and told her, no matter what has happened between us, no matter who is to blame, I AM SORRY.  Please forgive me.  I miss you.  Mom cried and asked me to forgive her too.  That was about five years before she died, so I had five years of an adult to adult relationship with one of the most fascinating, wonderful individuals I have EVER met; my own mom. 



My biggest regret is that my scholarly mom, my English teaching mom, my great listener mom, my champion of anything I endeavored mom, my rock mom, my wonderful, complicated, crazy mom never saw me published.  I can think of nothing my mom would have loved more than to see her son in print. 



My biggest irony as a published author was that my first book; My Garden Visits, was about her and the eternal imprint that she left.  That all moms leave.



I wrote of experiences I thought would be universally comforting to those whose moms had left their earthly bodies and it worked! It works! My book is now out of print, but just yesterday a woman who read it for her book club ten years ago approached me to tell me how the book touched her heart.



So, PLEASE hug your mom today!  Call her if a hug isn't possible.  Tell your mom specifically what she means to you.  I would give a lot to sit with my mom and have one more lunch.  I played a game recently where you decide what three people in history that are no longer alive would you most want to have lunch with.  Of everyone I could choose my mom was one of them.  Seriously, to sit with her for a few hours, physically face to face is one of my biggest wishes.  If you still can do so and aren't, please do.


  

*


Though the book I wrote about my mom is out of print, you can get it for a few cents on amazon.com.  I do plan to see the book uploaded for the Kindle and other eReaders soon. 





http://www.amazon.com/My-Garden-Visits-Justin-Matott/dp/0345412516/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344274444&sr=8-1&keywords=my+garden+visits



Of all human creations, a garden comes nearest to heaven. In Justin
Matott's garden, sweet peas, larkspur, peppermint, peas, corn, tomatoes,
and a hundred other sweetly-scented and delicious things bloom and
ripen daily -- gifts of earth's bounty.



One day in that garden a
very special miracle occurred. Justin felt the loving presence of his
mother, who had left this earth five years before. Why had she come?
What could her invisible but palpable presence mean?



As he sowed,
weeded, and harvested, he listened to his visitor's silent
communications and felt the movement of change and growth within
himself. In the forget-me-not, he was reminded of the precious
uniqueness of his mother -- and every other part of creation. Along with
crocuses and daffodil, memories of childhood blossomed. The cycle of
garden life impressed upon him the eternal flow of beginning, renewal,
loss, and new beginning.



At first, Justin hesitated to mention
these mysterious, wordless colloquies, but when he did, family and
friends urged him to write about them. So now we have this wonderful
book, which invites us into the author's beautiful garden to share the
love and wisdom that flowered among poppies and bean poles.

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7kMy son Ethan and his three "...

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7k


My son Ethan and his three "brothers" are traveling the globe to make a difference.  They are using their skills (my son Ethan graduated with a Broadcast Journalism degree and produced and narrated this well done film) to change the world. 




Please check out the youtube, click link above.  Please post the youtube link on your Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and any other mode of social media communication you have.  There are literally children's safety, chastity, health and lives at stake and it takes SO little to do SO much for them.














This is the link to their website, please check it out too!




www.theac.org

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7kMy son Ethan and his three...

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7k


My son Ethan and his three "brothers" are traveling the globe to make a difference.  They are using their skills (my son Ethan graduated with a Broadcast Journalism degree and produced and narrated this well done film) to change the world. 




Please check out the youtube, click link above.  Please post the youtube link on your Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and any other mode of social media communication you have.  There are literally children's safety, chastity, health and lives at stake and it takes SO little to do SO much for them.














This is the link to their website, please check it out too!




www.theac.org

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7kMy son Ethan and he four "...

http://youtu.be/BecZRNPwR7k


My son Ethan and he four "brothers" are traveling the globe to make a difference.  They are using their skills (my son Ethan graduated with a Broadcast Journalism degree and produced and narrated this well done film) to change the world. 




Please check out the youtube, click link above.  Please post the youtube link on your Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and any other mode of social media communication you have.  There are literally children's safety, chastity, health and lives at stake and it takes SO little to do SO much for them.














This is the link to their website, please check it out too!




www.theac.org

Several days in a different part of the same country.

On a recent trip to small town TX (Wharton, population 9000ish near Houston), I noticed things you don't see back home in Colorado.  




The small things most people might not notice are those things I cultivate.  IF you are a writer, you know how that goes.  Here is a pictorial representation of things that speak of TX to me!  As weird as it sounds, one of my favorite things to do when I travel is to go to the local grocery store.  It is a place where the cultural and regional differences are displayed in a relatively small space and gives a tiny window into the things people in that area "take for granted" but seem a bit foreign to those outside! 




In TX the Mexican food is authentic and great, the BBQ is unmatched and great, the watermelons grow large and juicy and the cotton spreads out for miles in every direction.  The land is ironing board flat and the trees grow wildly. 




The accents are as thick as the humid air.  The people are very warm and friendly.  The frogs croak in a beautiful evening chorus and every so often a cooling breeze makes the evening charming.  




The buckle of the bible belt allows for free prayer (twice) at a graduation ceremony and NO ONE gets offended!  BIG POINTS FOR TX in this guy's opinion!




Humidity and heat out of this world in early June, cotton is high and that is why! Humidity and heat need one more ingredient to be awesome and that is OCEAN! 





I LOVE ZAPPS and have ordered them by

the case because they are not distributed in COLO.

In TX they are on the shelf.








     SO glad we don't need this in COLO!










 

Tortilla chips shaped like the LONE STAR STATE and a woman taking pictures of those chips...  Seems I'm not the only one who finds these local things interesting! ALL chips strips are shaped like Colorado!



Grits as common as any other regular hot cereal. One point for TX! Truth is they might be available at my local store... haven't checked lately.




 Monkey Brains????????????????????????????? Haven't had them, don't know what they are.








These coconut candies are good and so are the Mrs. Annie's Peanut Patches!





Fried Pork rinds in numerous kinds, great road trip grub, but it is negated by the lollipops that are layers of picante, salsa and other hot seasonings for nachos.  NOT how I want my suckers!





Weird candied fruit and cactus for your salad.  The tomatillo salsa at the restaurant we went to was OUTSTANDING!









Everything IS bigger in TX!  Check out that moth! 

Imagine hundreds, no thousands of those doing what miller moths do to your front porch light. 





My beautiful blond and our friends at the awesome local BBQ joint! One point for TX! TALLEY one for the friends and they are also from Colorado!







In the BBQ place, in a corner there is a turkey on a sewing machine base with a plastic fern and an American flag? Uh, WHAT?



My beauty playing an OLD pinball machine.








The merengue on these pies at the BBQ joint are as high as a Texas woman's hair.  












Strange greeter for a BBQ joint! The foods so good he's stuffed!



A guy wins the lottery and spends it to renovate the coolest motel in Wharton, TX. 






























































Some of the ladies trying the local CHICARONES (fried pork skin).


 An AWESOME young lady from up north gets her first shot at shooting a real life gun AND hits the target with most!



 So much fun!

 Old West style gun, kicks hard!



 That dude smoked the target!  Note our instructor, what a great guy to share his arsenal!



 My Clint Eastwood pose, gotta do it since we were shooting revolvers and saying... "Right now you're wondering did I shoot five bullets or six..."



 Michael poses for his Old West double barrel shot!











Spending time with good friends in TX makes it a great place to VISIT!  A howling coyote taking us to Colorado from TX and arriving in the evening with the cool air, humidity free Colorado!




Having friends for decades is the best part of the trip.  Michael, Donna, Stephanie, Heather and Smokey (you just go ahead and stay right there) WE love you and were so glad to be a part of your celebration as Stephanie graduated! 



Talley's it was awesome to get to know you better! So sorry Laurie has lost some of her senses, but you can overcome it!




Walter and Rae and Lira, always good to see you!  

Denver Chalk Art Festival

It
rained on Saturday, but that didn't bother most of the chalk artists in downtown Denver. They went back at it to reconstruct their "temporary" works of art.  A
hazard of this type of endeavor, to be sure.  




http://www.denverchalkart.org/festival_info/index.php

 

It was fun to see the original artwork on an 8 x 12 piece of
paper being transformed into a much larger piece that brought smiles,
curious looks and general fun to the crowd gathered on Market Street. 
From the classic portrait style that you might otherwise find in an art
gallery to sublime pieces  nods to Star Trek, the Avengers and much more.

 








 I've stood in the Louvre looking at the original, but this version put a bigger smile on my face and was a lot bigger than the famous Mona Lisa!


    More than any other, we wanted to see the finished piece, after all it was Where's Waldo and they hadn't put him in when we were there.   




 



 







 This was my favorite.  I got the artist's card after she told me illustrating children's books is her dream.  She went on to tell me "words don't matter, it is the images"... careful now... if we end up working together we might have to happily disagree.













Some
seemed to have simply walked away, leaving smeared squares of chalk,
but many were at work in the evening bringing their previous day's work
back to life.  





Others covered it up to ensure the hours and hours and hours of work were protected and the detail in this one was literally spectacular.  I wanted to talk to her, but the line was too long.  Simply artistic genius!


















My party agreed this wonderful blue fox was an overall favorite. 







     I really wanted to stary to see how this would turn out.  The use  of black and white was awesome!









         

Mother Mary 

holding baby John Elway? 















    

I was disappointed to have missed seeing the Gargoyle my
latest novel is based on washed out.  I'd really like to see what he
looked like before the rain took him. 



     Best story of the night.  This man was recreating a picture of his grandfather during WW1, with his head coming out of the airplane he flew in the war.  A picture was found in an attic that told the story he grandfather never spoke of.  A true American hero.  The artist bragged, "His friends called him Curly. I have his curly hair!"  A huge smile crossed his face and ours too!.  Thank you for your service Curly!

Now that is an awesome dude announcing my visit!R...

Now that is an awesome dude announcing my visit!








Reading specialist Reva Lobatos and son, Reva responsible for EVERYTHING you see on this blog, see below for a link to the last school I went to that Reva organized.  CLONE HER!

I wanted to say THANK YOU to ALL of the wonderful hosts this VERY busy Spring 2012 School Visit season.  I have been welcomed graciously and the excitement for reading, writing and anti-bullying was increased this year due to you wonderful educators who provide your students with an extra boost!  



My last school visit of the spring was a spectacular
display of preparation, anticipation and excitement for students, staff
and yours truly. 



I have always loved calling attention to excellence and so this blog is my hat off to one very special educator who simply goes WAY beyond the call of duty!  First of all, in these tight economic times a grant had to be written to provide this author visit.  The grant was turned down, but that didn't stop this 'steamroller of excellence'.  She went back to the grant committee and asked what needed to be done to modify her proposal to get approval.  They told her.  SHE DID IT, THAT DAY.  It was approved!  AWESOME STICK-TO-IT-NESS!






The walls were lined with covers, announcements.  




Fun assemblies and a very well attended family night at Henderson Elementary in Cheyenne, WY was a great way to close out the spring of 2012! 





Example of what it takes to get the kids pumped for an author visit!



So, here is my HUGE shout out to Reva Lobatos!  This is the second school and second school visit Reva has put together with me and this wonderful lady should be put in charge of the NATIONAL HOW TO DO IT RIGHT FOR KIDS committee!  





Representative Ken A. Esquibel, myself, Senator Floyd A. Esquibel, now that is some representation 

of Gov't in a school!

In attendance during the day was the Superintendent of schools, the school's district representative at the Capitol and a State Senator!  The most amazing thing to me is that this is just seems to be "standard procedure" for this excellent educator.  





I watched this cool dad reading with his son and talked to him about his involvement in his son's lives as it relates to reading.  He reads with his boys every night and it shows.  Talking to those young men was a true pleasure and hearing them talk about reading was music to my ears, WAY TO GO MR. LOBATOS!.  

No wonder those boys love a good story AND love to read!



CHECK OUT this link to an earlier blog entry I did to showcase what Reva did to prepare for my last visit.  http://justinmatott-snickers.blogspot.com/2008/12/books-are-door-to-head-and-heart.html  (By the way, not only did she provide her school with something different, fun and educational, she went home between the school day and the evening event and brought her own boys back to experience a night of storytelling, so not only an awesome educator, but an awesome mom.) 








There was no way ANYONE didn't know we had something special coming!







Talk about making a guy feel welcome!  Reva asked what my favorite
things are and then filled a basket with them!  That is really going
beyond the call, but SO appreciated!





I can't wait to see what she does next time!  Oh, there will be an next time!