Carl's Scrapbook: The 2000s

Editors Note: I have really enjoyed writing these short essays for each decade, but I will say, the 2Ks are difficult for me. I guess because so much happened that I really do NOT want to remember. But such is life. . . so here goes.

A new millennium only comes around every thousand years (duh!) and at 53 years old, I was fortunate to be there for this one. The doomsayers were convinced (and had convinced most everyone else) that as soon as the world's computers rolled over from 1999 to 2000, that all communications (military, business and personal), as well as all airline flights, all grocery stores, all life as we know it - would abruptly come to an end. Portrayed as a huge dark monster poised on the New Year's horizon waiting to pounce on us all, it turned out to be nothing but the lengthened shadow of a tiny "bug" that affected only a handful of unprepared individuals. When we managed to survive the Y2K bug, civilization breathed a huge collective sigh of relief and then continued on it's merry way. Unfortunately, the Y2K bug would be the least of our worries in the new millennium.

As the new decade started, a gallon of gasoline would cost you about $1.49 and a loaf of Merita Bread was about 95 cents, but that would change drastically as the decade plodded along. The U. S. dollar that had always led the world currency system was slowly losing it's value and as crude oil prices started to rise, so did the cost of everything else. Technological advances were coming at a rate so fast that in the course of only a few months something that was considered state-of-the-art would suddenly become all but obsolete. The world I had observed as a youngster in comic books and sci-fi movies had become reality - except maybe for the flying cars and the cities on Mars. More and more laws are being legislated for the exceptions making it more and more difficult to be completely law abiding. Radical ideas, such as Zero Tolerance (even though we are constantly being told we must tolerate any and everything except intolerance) and Political Correctness (I'd really like to know what idiot - excuse me, "brain challenged" person - came up with that one) are preached as the required norm and yet we continue to put more and more inmates in charge of the asylum. I dunno - maybe I'm just getting old (could someone help me get off this soap box without breaking a hip). Naah!. . . . I ain't goin' there!

Probably the most significant event in U. S. history, since the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, came on September 11, 2001 when 19 Arab terrorists hijacked four American commercial passenger jet airliners, crashing two into each of the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City and one into the Pentagon building in Arlington County, VA. The fourth was forced to crash in a Pennsylvania pasture by the heroic efforts of passengers and crew who attacked the hijackers before they could reach their intended target. A total 2,998 lives were lost (not counting the hijackers). I was having my morning cup of coffee in bed when my wife came and told me I should turn on the TV because a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. I had no sooner started watching the news coverage when, behind the newscaster, I watched the second plane crash into the other tower. The newsman had his back to it and didn't even see it. He had to be told of the second crash. We probably didn't leave our TV sets for a good two weeks or so before someone said enough and the networks quit giving 24/7 coverage to the attack. This incident would cause the U. S. to bomb the Taliban out of power in Afghanistan for supporting and training terrorists and eventually to the ousting of Saddam Hussein in Iraq when faulty intelligence reported that he was amassing chemical and biological weapons intended to be used against the U. S..

My wife, Nancy, and I, my mother and daughters Jenny, Trudi and Christina and Jenny's son, Robert, began the new millennium living in Winter Haven after losing the family home in Auburndale to an unscrupulous mortgage holder who shall remain nameless (but their initials are American General Finance Company). I was slowing getting more and more depressed and although it was not immediately apparent, Nancy was slowly becoming more and more intolerant of my depression. Early in the decade there were still some royalties from my writing but the IRS had attached all of it so we, for all practical purposes, had no income - except what I could generate in the studio and "live" performances. After several years of some rather unorthodox dealings with a nut-ball landlord we finally moved from SE Winter Haven to a really neat old wooden house on 9th Street in front of Polk Community College. We were there less than a year when Mother's health started to deteriorate and the old house just stood too far off the ground for us to be able to get her in and out of the door. Eventually she would be hospitalized, but after a period of time, even though she appeared to be on a downhill slide, the doctor at Winter Haven Hospital assured us she would be live for a year or more with proper care and moved her to a rehab facility. We knew we would never be able to get her in and out of the old house - so we had opportunity to move back to Auburndale and although the rent nearly doubled we decided it would probably be for the best. We were frantically trying to get moved when Mother was sent to a rehab facility. As it would be, it was all for naught. Mother passed away after two days in rehab having never set foot in the new residence.

Now back in Auburndale - we tried several times to jump start our career(s) but each effort met with unspectacular results. There was really no room for a studio, so even that was a non-factor as far as money was concerned. Early in the decade Nancy still showed a vested interest in our career and managed to put together several great shows that the Rogues performed in. In 2001, she produced and coordinated a very successful PolKats Reunion at the Admiral's Inn at Cypress Gardens, featuring Jim Stafford, Bobby Braddock, and Kent LaVoie (Lobo). In 2002, she produced a 60's Garage Band Reunion show at Lake Mirror Center in Lakeland and a Johnny Rivers concert at the Lakeland Civic Center. In 2003, she was instrumental in getting several prestigious gigs for the Rogues, including the Chasco Fiesta in New Port Richey and the Zellwood Sweet Corn Festival. Nancy was in her element when producing and promoting shows and excelled at it. But income was still not keeping up with expenses and our financial situation continued to deteriorate. To top it off, I had been having occasional spells of angina pain for several years, and they were now coming more and more frequently.

During March of 2004, we were laying in bed watching an exceptionally funny episode of the late night cartoon show, "Home Movies", on the Cartoon Channel and laughing hysterically when a pain started in my back and slowly enveloped my entire back and chest. Absolutely sure I was having a heart attack we called 911. The paramedics came and found my blood pressure to be through the roof and took me to Lakeland Regional Hospital. I had little income and no insurance and I told them straight out - I can't pay for this. They fixed me anyway. They found I had not had a heart attack (yet), but had 90% blockage in three of the arteries servicing my heart and decided to do bypass surgery (actually doing four arteries after they had opened me up). This would prove to be (in my opinion) the straw that broke the camel's back. Nancy was now looking at the real possibility that she was going to be either a widow with no visible means of support or care giver to an old geezer for the rest of her life. Looking back, I can see her slowly start slipping away.

After about 2 months of healing, I was once again playing gigs with the Rogues (although somewhat gingerly) and Nancy and I were drifting further apart (Note: I can see all of this clearly now, because of my 20/20 hindsight - I didn't see it at the time). She was allowing all of the demons she had overcome in the past to slowly return and take control of her life. It was also in 2004 that our thoughts were temporarily turned from our family problems by a series of hurricanes that targeted Polk County. Three major hurricanes in little over a month - Hurricane Charley on August 14th - Hurricane Frances on September 5th - and Hurricane Jeanne on September 25th - made eye contact with Auburndale. We could only sit in the garage and watch. Since all three took basically the same path the winds were usually blowing in a direction away from the front of the house so only rarely did the rains even blow into the open garage door. Remember that in a hurricane the winds blow the rain basically horizontal to the ground. After Jeanne the whole area was a terrible mess. Power was out (for us) for about a week. Major roads were closed because of fallen trees, poles, power lines and general debris. Some homes in our neighborhood were completely destroyed while our house sustained only a few loose shingles and some aluminum eaves were blown off. But even these three behemoths would pale in comparison to the storm of another type that was waiting on the horizon.

In 2005, we were evicted from our West Auburndale home and almost simultaneously, Nancy managed to get a good paying job on the road that took her away from the realities of home and family. That pretty much was the beginning of the end. After a brief stay in a motel in Winter Haven, we moved into a Holiday Home in Davenport for a couple of months. From there we moved back to Auburndale, to the south side of Lake Ariana. This is where we were located when we lost contact with Nancy. When we finally located her - she was in Australia living with some dingo she met somewhere on the road (I hear he looks like the "Gorton Fisherman" - but then I haven't seen him). OK, I have vented -- I'll say no more because anything else would be speculation fueled by bruised pride. She has had no contact with me for some time. When our lease expired at the Lake Ariana residence, we moved to our present location, near downtown Auburndale.

Needless to say - the emotional smack down from this series of events, acted as a sort of (if you will excuse the analogy) a laxative to my creative system and my all but dried up flow of songs started freely flowing. I wrote 10 songs in three months. This has caused me some concern, because I would hate to think I need this kind of emotional trauma in order to write songs. I guess we'll see. I am still in the process of getting the songs demoed at this writing.

In 2007, I had to re-enter the hospital and have an aortal aneurysm fixed (along with renal arteries stints) but this seems to have made a big difference in my general health.

All in all, things are looking up. I still owe way more than I will ever be able to repay but the day to day situation is somewhat better. I am now up to ten (that's 10) grandchildren and I'm just barely over 60. Thanks to my good friend and fellow "Rogue", Dane Streets, I have a new edition of the OutHouse Studio to work in and that is helping keep me busy. The anomaly is - although I am surrounded by a loving family (both physical and spiritual), I still manage to feel so very alone - but - I'm sure there could be worse things. I, along with my two youngest daughters, Trudi and Christina, and Trudi's son, Christopher (Topher) live together. Trudi has a decent job and Christina is Topher's nanny, so it works out. Between Trudi and I, we manage to pay the bills, of course always living right on the edge of disaster, but then that's what makes life interesting I guess. With lots of prayer as well as a little Zoloft (which is an answer to a prayer) I am finally getting a handle on the depression and hope and pray for the strength to remain faithful and maybe even accomplish a couple of things yet in this life.

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