Category: ken david stewart’s greatest hits

Episode 45 of Street Dreams/Tony Spills His Guts

Episode 45 of Street Dreams 

When Tony and Harold had brought their refreshments from the kitchen and placed them on Harold’s glass coffee table, Harold settled into his white La-Z-Boy chair and Tony found a place on Harold’s orange and white leather sofa. 

Tony took a few seconds to glance around Harold’s living room. He could see many things that were of interest to him. 

Last night I was having so much fun playing jukebox with you guys that I didn’t pay too much attention to my surroundings. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your possessions?” Tony asked, biting off a sizable chunk of his extra-large oatmeal and raisin cookie. He added a sip from his coffee cup. Harold poured Tony’s coffee into a Motorhead coffee cup. Tony was amazed at how well the coffee and cookie combo tasted. 

Harold also sampled this morning’s culinary delights and experienced the same sense of joy that Tony was experiencing. 

“Wow, I didn’t know how well Whisper could bake cookies,” Tony said. 

Harold looked Tony Barrows straight in the eye. 

“I will gladly answer your questions about my possessions after we have a chat about other things,” Harold answered. 

“When you get to be my age, Tony, I think one becomes much more proficient at reading people. In other words, you become much more observant and skilled at drawing inferences,” Harold said. 

Tony started moving his fingers around in a nervous manner. He was hoping for a conversation about deep things, but he was surprised that Harold delved into that realm this early in the conversation. 

“Tony, which artists created those two pieces of artwork that I’m pointing to on my wall?” Harold asked using his forefinger to point to two different paintings on the wall across from Tony. 

“The one to your immediate right is by Jackson Pollock, the second one is by Picasso and if you’d asked me about the third I would say that it was done by Salvador Dali,” Tony answered with a look of self- satisfaction on his face. 

Harold got caught in the middle of a laughing spell and spewed out a sudden spray of coffee and partially chewed cookie. This incident also caused Tony to laugh and had the effect of putting them more at ease. 

“You just proved my point, son. You’re either self educated, partially educated or have a university degree,” Harold said. 

“I don’t know how you figured that out, but you are right. I spent two years at the University of Manitoba. My major was economics. I also read a lot on my own if that’s what you mean by self educated.” 

“I, too, do a lot of reading on my own, listen to audiobooks, watch Fox News and do a considerable amount of research on the internet. Why haven’t you finished your bachelor’s degree?” Harold asked. 

“That’s kind of a long and sad story. Just after I finished my second year courses, my girlfriend died of a drug overdose. Two weeks later, I get a call telling me that while my uncle and his girlfriend were driving on a trip down the highway, their car got squashed by a semitrailer. My uncle died immediately and his girlfriend was pronounced DOA when an ambulance took her to the closest hospital,” Tony answered. 

“That’s horrible,” Harold said, as a tear slid down his left cheek. 

“Were you close to your uncle?” Harold asked. 

“Yes, very much so. I only lived with him for about a year and a half, but he was the closest thing to a father figure I ever knew. I worked for him as a plumber’s helper any he gave me a love of reading, writing fiction and participating in intellectual discussions. He was the one who inspired me to attend university,” Tony answered. 

“Something here doesn’t add up. Why does a smart young man like yourself end up throwing his girlfriend out of his truck on a cold winter day?” Harold asked. 

Tony’s face reddened and he hung his head towards the ground in shame. 

“Somewhere along the line I didn’t develop a good sense of morals, but I think that I lost my temper and snapped when I decided to push Whisper out of my truck,” Tony explained. 

Do you lose your temper often, Tony?” Harold asked. 

Harold moved from his La-Z-Boy chair over to the white leather sofa and sat right next to Tony. Harold put his arm around Tony’s shoulder.Tony began to weep and tried to stop what was turning into a deluge of tears. 

“I’m sorry, Tony managed to say in between the falling of his tears. I have so much rage inside me that it scares me to death. I’m afraid I’ll kill somebody one of these days if I don’t learn how to control my temper.” 

The two men just sat in silence for close to five minutes while both of them wept. Tony raised his head and looked at Harold. 

“I can’t remember the last time I cried like that,” Tony said as he finally began to regain his composure. My biological father died from cancer when I was just five years old and my mother was an alcoholic who never wanted me. Still, there is no excuse for what I did to Whisper or for the other people I’ve hurt in my life,” Tony said as he gave Harold a quick hug. 

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Episode 40 of Street Dreams Novel/Jukebox

Episode 40
Ricky had been living with his stepdad and Whisper for about three weeks now. During this time, the three of them had been getting along well. Harold was overjoyed that Ricky was now living with him. Harold had never felt comfortable living by himself, but now he had both his son and Whisper around to mitigate his loneliness.
Last week Whisper had a You Tube app open on Harold’s Amazon fire stick. She went to the YouTube search engine and typed in Guns N Roses. She found her favourite Guns N Roses song, Sweet Child of Mine and started to play the track. Harold was sitting in his prized, white Lazy Boy chair. He was reading the novel, Cujo by Stephen King. Ricky was sitting on the couch across from his dad. He, too was reading his own paperback copy of the same book about the rabid St. Bernard. A cute little puppy was sitting contentedly on the floor at Ricky’s feet. Ricky had named the dog Buster and about a week ago asked his dad if he could keep the puppy. Buster had been sitting on the back steps of Harold’s house. The little pug was trembling in the cold and was whimpering with anxiety. Ricky had just returned from Pals, the corner convenience store when he saw Buster. In spite of the fact that Ricky had problems with his behavior, he had not lost part of his childhood innocence. Deep down, he was still a sweet kid who loved animals and little children. When Harold and Clarissa were still together, they took in an old stray tomcat that they named Beater. Ricky had loved the big old tomcat who was now staying with his mother, Clarissa. Unfortunately, Ricky had a very strained relationship with his mother and rarely visited her so he didn’t get to see Beater too much now.
Buster, like most puppies, was very lovable and had already grown very attached to Ricky. The dog liked Harold too, but appeared to have established a stronger bond with Ricky. This was likely because Ricky would take him for walks on a daily basis and would also play fetch in the backyard with Buster. Buster was a very cuddly and affectionate puppy would often come to sit in Ricky’s lap and beg to be cuddled. Ricky would often think the dog’s life was much easier and happier than the existence of their human owners. When Ricky petted and stroked Buster he would kind of be in effect be enveloped by a beautiful trancelike state where parents didn’t get divorced and no one had to go to jail.
Ricky turned towards Whisper and asked, “Do you want to play a game?”
“What game?” Whisper asked.
“It’s a game I just invented. I think I’m going to call it Jukebox.
“Howdo you play it?” Whisper asked.
“I’m making up the rules as we go along. You actually gave me the idea for the game, Whisper,” Ricky answered.
“Gee. Could I play too? Do you think I’m too old for this game, Harold asked with a grin on his face.”
“No, of course you can play, Dad. Actually the rules are very simple. One player uses the search engine on YouTube to find either the name of a song or the name of a band. Meanwhile the two other players go to the kitchen and listen to the song that has been selected. The first player to yell out both the name of the song and the name of the artist who performed it wins and is awarded either one or two points. You score one point for the name of the song and one point for the name of the performer. If the player is right on both counts they are awarded two points If you only get one of the answers right the player gets one point. Time is up at the end of the song and no points are scored,” Ricky explained.
“Hey, Ricky, this game sounds like it could be a lot of fun. Harold, I thought I saw a whiteboard in your office downstairs. Can I bring it up to the living room? We could use it to keep score.”
Harold sat up in his lazy boy chair. “Do you mean the whiteboard I used to use when I was active in Amway. I would take the whiteboard with me when we were showing the plan to prospects. Yeah, I believe there is still a pack of erasable coloured markers in my old desk to the left of the whiteboard. If I remember correctly, there is also a whiteboard eraser and cleaning spray in that old desk too. Why don’t you both you guys go downstairs and bring the game equipment up to the living room. In the meantime, I’m going to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave.We’re going to have ourselves a little party this evening,” Harold said.
When Ricky and Whisper brought the whiteboard and the supplies upstairs and got themselves comfortably seated once again, Harold asked another question.
“Can I add a new rule to the Jukebox game?”
“What’s the new rule?” Whisper asked. The sweet aroma of popping kernels was now drifting into the living room.
It’s more like an amendment or a rider placed on the original rules. Here it is. The song that is selected can only be chosen if it falls between the decades of 1950 up to the decade of 2000. You guys probably know a lot of the old songs, but I stopped listening to contemporary music when the Seattle grunge pop era ended sometime during the nineties,” Harold explained
“I think that Whisper and I can agree to that stipulation,” Ricky answered.” She and I discussed our tastes in music one day last week when you were out running errands. The funny thing is that neither of us likes the current music scene either and we both like old-time rock ‘n’ roll music from the 50’s, 60s,70s. 80s and the 90s. We even like several of the same bands such as Led Zeppelin. the Beatles, Motorhead and Bob Dylan. The list goes on and on.”
“Thank you guys. It sounds like we may have a very interesting and competitive game of Jukebox starting shortly. The microwave popcorn should be ready in under a minute,” Harold said.
Both Ricky and Whisper hadn’t seen Harold look so happy in a long time They gave each other the knowing nod.motorhead band picture 2

Roswell 1947 Play and Podcast Part Three

Act Five Scene Two:

Narrator: Zeke, the hospital custodian, runs up to General Kane.

Zeke: General, the guy I locked up in the store room broke the window and escaped!

General Kane: Enns get in the truck. We’ve got to catch that rancher before he starts shooting his mouth off again.

Narrator: Enns and Kane start driving down the back lane. They stop when they see two dogcatchers climbing out of the dumpster.

Private Enns: Look, General. The city makes those poor dogcatchers hunt for dogs in the dumpster.

General Kane: I doubt that Enns. Roswell city employees have a union.

Private Enns: Maybe the dog catchers aren’t included in the union contract.

General Kane: What the heck are you guys doing in the dumpster? Just look at you guys all covered in garbage. You’re a disgrace to the uniform!

Private Enns: I thought city employees made good money. You guys shouldn’t have to scrounge around for food in the dumpster.

Hoss: We’re not looking for food. A large Rottweiler chased us into the dumpster.

General Kane: Men, it’s your job to catch dogs, not run away from them!

Harvey: Well there’s a whole other side to this story. You tell them what happened, Hoss.

Hoss: Well, it’s kind of a strange story. We were sitting in the truck having our smoke break when we saw this guy stumbling down the back lane.

Harvey: Yeah, this guy tells us this goofy story about escaping from the hospital. He said two military guys kidnapped him and threw him in the back of a truck with a bunch of aliens.

Hoss: Ha! ha! ha! And then he says something about a nurse giving him a shot of horse tranquilizer in the backside.

Private Enns: They’re talking about Mick, General.

General Kane: I know! So where’s this guy now?

Private Enns: Yeah. And don’t you guys have a truck or something to put the dogs in after you catch them?

General Kane: They don’t need one. The dogs chase them into the dumpster. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Harvey: Look General, this is no laughing matter. The guy drove off with our truck.

Private Enns: I don’t get it. There’s two of you against one of him.

Hoss: Well, it’s kind of a long story. You tell them, Harvey.

Harvey: Well, while Hoss and I were trying to pull this guy into the truck, the keys fall out of Hoss’s pants The guy grabbed the keys and let the Rottweiler out the back of the truck.

General Kane: Now let me guess, and then the dog chased you guys into the dumpster.

Hoss: Yeah, that’s pretty much the way it happened.

Private Enns: You guys are hilarious. You’re funnier than Lloyd the Barber on the Andy Griffin Show. You guys should go tell your story on Rick and Dwight’s radio show.

General Kane: I have a feeling that’s where Mick is right now.

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episode 37 of street dreams a novel

Episode 37

After about a fifteen minute ride Kerry and Hartley Popovich could hear Aleister trying to speak. At first, all Aleister could manage was a few garbled words. His two friends were now starting to hear some words and phrases that were decipherable. Aleister attempted to say a few things that sounded like:

“Where am I? I’m in pain. I need help.”

Kerry turned around and said to Aleister, “We were just at a party. You got the crap beat out of you by a big dude that you were arguing with. Someone called the cops so we picked you up and got you into Hartley’s car. The grey interior of the old Ford Tempo was stained with the blood from the wounds in Aleister’s head. The good news was that the blood coming from Aleister’s head was now starting to coagulate.

Hartley was now doing over 110 km/h when the car skidded on a snow-covered patch of ice and fishtailed off to the right shoulder of the of Bishop Grandin Boulevard.

About thirty meters behind them was a red Ford Taurus with Harold Payton driving and Whisper Willows riding shotgun.

“Hey Harold, look to your right. There’s a car on the shoulder up ahead. Looks like they’re going to need help,” Whisper said.

Harold and Whisper were just returning from getting a late night supper at Pizza Hut. The driving was hazardous tonight as a heavy snowfall had just begun.

One of Harold’s personality traits was both a blessing and a curse. He was a nice guy. Too nice a guy. Whenever he encountered someone in trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to assist them. No matter how much trouble a stranger might be in or how dangerous this intervention might prove to be, Harold would jump in to help them without any reservations. Harold Peyton could be very impulsive and perhaps even a bit self-destructive if he felt that the situation warranted it.

Harold drove his car right behind Hartley’s car. He and Whisper got out of the car and trudged through the snow toward the white Ford Tempo. Whisper could make out a bumper sticker that read, ‘Crash and Burn’. Harold approached the driver side door and knocked on the glass. He called out, “Are you people all right? Do you need help?”

Hartley was still in a bit of a daze as he hit his head on the steering wheel causing the car’s horn to go off.

“Yeah, we need help,” Hartley answered as he lowered his shoulder and banged the front door open. The passenger side door was old and rusty making it difficult to push open. The light in the interior of the car came on so Harold could now see inside the vehicle. He could see another young man occupying the passenger seat. He could make out a third young male who was trying to prop himself up in the backseat. This individual gave out a shriek of pain as he tried to move himself into a sitting position.

Whisper opened the back door of the car and made a quick visual inspection of the man who was in obvious pain.

“How do you feel, dude? What the hell happened to you?” Whisper asked Aleister.

Whisper could see that the injured man had bloodstains on his beige Slipknot T-shirt. He also had some bruises on his forehead. She asked Aleister to turn the back of his head towards her. Whisper noticed three small places where blood had previously been flowing from Aleister’s head.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch me, lady. My neck and back are killing me and I feel like I just got run over by a semi- trailer,” Aleister said in a low pained voice.

Kerry spoke up, “Don’t try to talk now, Aleister. Save your strength.”

Then he turned towards Whisper and Harold and said, “Look we just came back from Boogy’s Sports Bar. We were watching a wrestling pay-per-view and having a few beers when we noticed that Aleister had been in the washroom for a long time. Hartley went into the men’s room to check on him and found Aleister slumped on the floor. There were bloodstains on the wall behind him. Hartley and I got Aleister out of the bathroom and into our car.

Harold Peyton moved closer to Kerry, “Hey, my name is Harold and this is my friend, Whisper. Back in the day I was a medic during the war in Vietnam. Can I check on your friend’s condition?”

Before Kerry could answer a police patrol car with its lights flashing pulled up right behind him. Constable Bill Noble and Constable Melissa Parks got out of the patrol car. Constable Bill took a quick check around the area to see if there was anything dangerous around the scene that he and his partner were about to investigate. The wind had picked up and Bill’s ears were getting cold. Hartley panicked and placed his car key in the ignition. Constable Noble saw what Hartley was trying to do and snatched the car keys out of his hand.

“What’s your hurry, Bud? Are you trying to get away from us? Let’s see your driver’s license and registration.”

Hartley remembered that he had put his bag of drugs in the glove compartment. He knew the cops were going to search the car. He gave Constable Bill a shove and was tackled from behind by Constable Parks. She quickly and efficiently put the hand cuffs on Hartley. 20180924_100134

Episode 37 of Street Dreams, a Novel by Ken David Stewart

Episode 37

After about a fifteen minute ride Kerry and Hartley Popovich could hear Aleister trying to speak. At first, all Aleister could manage was a few garbled words. His two friends were now starting to hear some words and phrases that were decipherable.Aleister attempted to say a few things that sounded like:

“Where am I? I’m in pain. I need help.”

Kerry turned around and said to Aleister, “We were just at a party. You got the crap beat out of you by a big dude that you were arguing with. Someone called the cops so we picked you up and got you into Hartley’s car. The grey interior of the old Ford Tempo was stained with the blood from the wounds in Aleister’s head. The good news was that the blood coming from Aleister’s head was now starting to coagulate.

Hartley was now doing over 110 km/h when the car skidded on a snow-covered patch of ice and fishtailed off to the right shoulder of the of Bishop Grandin Boulevard.

About thirty meters behind them was a red Ford Taurus with Harold Payton driving and Whisper Willows riding shotgun.

“Hey Harold, look to your right. There’s a car on the shoulder up ahead. Looks like they’re going to need help,” Whisper said.

Harold and Whisper were just returning from getting a late night supper at Pizza Hut. The driving was hazardous tonight as a heavy snowfall had just begun.

One of Harold’s personality traits was both a blessing and a curse. He was a nice guy. Too nice a guy. Whenever he encountered someone in trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to assist them. No matter how much trouble a stranger might be in or how dangerous this intervention might prove to be, Harold would jump in to help them without any reservations. Harold Peyton could be very impulsive and perhaps even a bit self-destructive if he felt that the situation warranted it.

Harold drove his car right behind Hartley’s car. He and Whisper got out of the car and trudged through the snow toward the white Ford Tempo. Whisper could make out a bumper sticker that read, ‘Crash and Burn’. Harold approached the driver side door and knocked on the glass. He called out, “Are you people all right? Do you need help?”

Hartley was still in a bit of a daze as he hit his head on the steering wheel causing the car’s horn to go off.

“Yeah, we need help,” Hartley answered as he lowered his shoulder and banged the front door open. The passenger side door was old and rusty making it difficult to push open. The light in the interior of the car came on so Harold could now see inside the vehicle. He could see another young man occupying the passenger seat. He could make out a third young male who was trying to prop himself up in the backseat. This individual gave out a shriek of pain as he tried to move himself into a sitting position.

Whisper opened the back door of the car and made a quick visual inspection of the man who was in obvious pain.

“How do you feel, dude? What the hell happened to you?” Whisper asked Aleister.

Whisper could see that the injured man had bloodstains on his beige Slipknot T-shirt. He also had some bruises on his forehead. She asked Aleister to turn the back of his head towards her. Whisper noticed three small places where blood had previously been flowing from Aleister’s head.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch me, lady. My neck and back are killing me and I feel like I just got run over by a semi- trailer,” Aleister said in a low pained voice.

Kerry spoke up, “Don’t try to talk now, Aleister. Save your strength.”

Then he turned towards Whisper and Harold and said, “Look we just came back from Boogy’s Sports Bar. We were watching a wrestling pay-per-view and having a few beers when we noticed that Aleister had been in the washroom for a long time. Hartley went into the men’s room to check on him and found Aleister slumped on the floor. There were bloodstains on the wall behind him. Hartley and I got Aleister out of the bathroom and into our car.

Harold Peyton moved closer to Kerry, “Hey, my name is Harold and this is my friend, Whisper. Back in the day I was a medic during the war in Vietnam. Can I check on your friend’s condition?”

Before Kerry could answer a police patrol car with its lights flashing pulled up right behind him. Constable Bill Noble and Constable Melissa Parks got out of the patrol car. Constable Bill took a quick check around the area to see if there was anything dangerous around the scene that he and his partner were about to investigate. The wind had picked up and Bill’s ears were getting cold. Hartley panicked and placed his car key in the ignition. Constable Noble saw what Hartley was trying to do and snatched the car keys out of his hand.

“What’s your hurry, Bud? Are you trying to get away from us? Let’s see your driver’s license and registration.”

Hartley remembered that he had put his bag of drugs in the glove compartment. He knew the cops were going to search the car. He gave Constable Bill a shove and was tackled from behind by Constable Parks. She quickly and efficiently put the hand cuffs on Hartley.

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Episode 36 of Street Dreams

Episode 35

Aleister hated going to school. He wasn’t like the other kids. He often chose strange clothing to wear and a from his teenage years onward, Aleister came to the conclusion that the world is not a nice place to inhabit. He came to the conclusion that most people were mean and nasty. They seemed to enjoy hurting people that were a little different and could think for themselves. Aleister had an artistic temperament. He was quiet, sensitive and possessed an incredible imagination. He struggled in math and science classes, but received decent marks in English and history class. Aleister would skip the classes that he didn’t like very frequently, but he didn‘t leave the school. He would go to the school library as this was kind of a safe haven for him. The library had small private reading rooms where a student could either sit in a standard chair next to a little desk or lean comfortably against the wall on one of the room’s oversized cushions. Aleister preferred the large soft cushions and especially liked a pillow that had a picture of the cartoon character, Garfield, decorated on it. Aleister usually had the room to himself as the other students in the school thought he was weird and didn’t want to get too close to him.

Aleistair was very careless about his personal hygiene and after several days without taking a shower or bothering to change his clothes, he started to reek of body order. Aleister preferred being left alone. He did not want any distractions from others. He needed his own private space, with the accompanying peace and quiet, in order to enter into his own internal world. Within Alister’s personal realm, he was the only person that was allowed in. There were exceptions, of course. These were the characters that he read about in his favourite books. He chose books in the genres of true crime and mystery, science fiction and horror novels. His favourite author was Stephen King. He’d read all of King’s work at least once and there were several books that he had read two or three times. The Stephen King titles that he loved the most were, the Dark Half, the Stand and Pet Sematery. If Aleister could escape notice from the library teacher and or the library tech, he would remain in his literary, fictional, safe haven for two hours and occasionally for half the day.

When the school alarm sounded to signal class change at the end of every period, Aleistair would grab a few oversized cushions and a blanket that was available to the students and hide behind them for at least five minutes. He learned that the school staff usually only checked the private rooms during the class changes.

After Aleister’s parents separated when he had just turned fourteen Aleister began to act out at school. The dissolution of his family unit caused Aleister great emotional distress. He went through the standard stages of grief, but his anger was what got him in trouble at school. His anger towards the world and its human occupants turned into a burning rage.

Prior to his parents splitting up, Aleister had not committed any acts of school vandalism. When Aleister could no longer restrain the angst churning inside him, he would engage in acts of vandalism at school. Aleister got a pleasurable adrenaline rush from acting out and after he finished creating havoc, a beautiful sense of calm would envelop him.

There were a variety of malicious stunts Aleister liked to enact, One of these was to grab a handful of paper towels in the boys washroom and plug the toilets to the point where they would overflow when anyone pushed down the handle. On one occasion, he took out a cigarette lighter and started a garbage bin on fire. Aleister took great pleasure when he saw the fire trucks arrive and watched all the teachers and students scramble to evacuate the building. Aleister chuckled to himself when it was -30°C and he could see all the people outside the school shivering and jumping around in a vain attempt to stay warm.

These malicious acts pleased Aleister to no end, to cause a disruption in the school that he hated, and best of all, he was in control and held all the power.

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podcast version of street dreams eps 34

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Episode 34 of Street Dreams Aleister RichterA novel by Ken David Stewart

Episode 34 Aleister Richter

The man that Tony Barrows had assaulted at the party on Beliveau Road called himself, Aleister, which served as his preferred street name. His real name was Zach Richter. He liked it better when people referred to him by his alias. Two of Aleister’s friends rushed to pick Aleister up and carry him out of the house once they realized that the people at the partywere calling the police.

The two men who carried the limp body out of the house were the same two people who had bullied Herbie Schultz in elementary school, Hartley and Kerry Popovich. Hartley picked Aleister up by the head Kerry took hold of the victim’s legs. The two brothers, Hartley and Kerry were fortunate that Kerry’s old Ford Temple was parked near the back door of the house. They only needed to drag Aleister’s limp body a few feet. It also helped that Aleister was underweight and was very light to carry. Hartley opened the back door of the white 1994 Ford Temple while he and his brother slid Alister’s body along the back seat of the car.

Hartley climbed into the driver seat while Kerry rode shotgun. As Hartley turned the key in the ignition. he heard some moaning sounds coming from the back seat of the car.

“I don’t believe it. I think Aleister is still alive!” Hartley said.

“That’s great. But right now our immediate problem is to drive away from this house before the cops arrive. Step on the gas, Hartley,” Kerry ordered.

It’s cold out. This old car is going to need a minute or two to warm up so that I can get the engine to turn over,” Hartley countered.

“Fortunately, the night sky was now pitch black. If anyone leaving the party saw them, it would be nearly impossible to identify the car and its occupants.

Kerry and Hartley had known Aleister for about two years. They met Alister in a downtown pool hall where they went to try to score some weed and acid. Aleister was fairly well known in this area of downtown Winnipeg. One could say that he carved out his own territory. Aleister was just a year or two older than Kerry and Hartley. He was a sociable type of character and invited the two brothers over to an apartment on Furby Street that he shared with his girlfriend. Aleister sold Kerry and Herbie a few buttons of peyote, some acid and a seven- ounce bag of Purple Kush. That was a better-than-average sale for Aleister, so he thought, “Why not celebrate with my new customers? Who knows? They may even become my friends.”

Aleister had not always lived in a rundown apartment on Furby Street. His parents were both successful professionals. His father was a lawyer his mother was a veterinarian. Aleister was brought up in a large attractive home in the suburb of Tuxedo where all successful people in Winnipeg resided. Aleister loved both his parents, but soon discovered that they didn’t agree on very many issues and often had heated verbal arguments. When Aleister was just a young child he was very upset about his parents so-called disagreements. He was worried that one day they would divorce and would no longer look after him. Eventually his parents did divorce, shortly after Aleister’s fourteenth birthday. It was almost a relief for him when his parents finally went through with the divorce. As it says in the Bible, “What I have feared has come upon me,” a rough paraphrase from the book of Job, Aleister felt very insecure despite the fact that he lived a somewhat of a privilege childhood. He had a beautiful spacious bedroom all to himself. He always got the newest and coolest toys. Both his parents treated him well, but he was scared when they had fights.

So what did his parents Hugh and Deborah fight about? It was not one of the most common issues many couples argue about such as money and sex. His parents thought they were doing very well in both these areas.Their arguments were more about intellectual, political and religious issues.

Hugh Richter considered himself to be a very intelligent man who believed in God, was trying to live a good moral lifestyle and as a rational conservative thinker.

Many of Hugh’s disagreements with his wife were over political issues. Although they had both lived in Canada for several years, they both had spent their developmental years living in different cities in the United States. Hugh had grown up in Houston, Texas and Deborah’s formative years were spent in Portland, Oregon. Hugh’s parents were both committed Republicans and were devoted to their local Baptist Church. Growing up in Portland Oregon, Deborah’s parents were liberals, tried-and-true Democrats who believed that Bill Clinton was the best president that the United States ever had. When it came to questions of religion and spirituality, Deborah’s parents were basically atheists, although they would occasionally take up an interest in new age teachings. They would tend to follow the latest flavour of the month as their newest guru, but their pattern was to move on to a new spiritual movement leader as soon as they got tired of the previous one.

In the 2016 presidential election, Hugh had some personal reservations about Donald Trump but still voted for him. He would’ve preferred Ted Cruze as the Republican party nominee, but he accepted the fact that the Republicans chose Donald Trump as their leader.

Donald Trump was sort of an acquired taste for Hugh. There were many things he admired about Trump, especially his self-confidence and determination to get things done. He was not completely convinced that Trump was a committed Christian, but he was delighted to hear his candidate espouse many Christian values and beliefs and appeared to be a staunch supporter of the church and Israel.

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Spiritual Warfare by Ken David Stewart

What’s Up? November 2019 Edition by Ken David Stewart

As a Christian one thing is very apparent to me. When you really start pressing in or basically step up your game for Jesus, the devil will retaliate. This form of retribution appears to be in direct proportion to the degree one attempts to know Jesus intimately and tries to follow his example and teachings. If you are active to any degree in a ministry, it’s like Satan has put a target on your back. The key is not to let him defeat you. If one gets serious about his walk with Jesus expect backlash.

For the last few years my life has followed a pattern that I want to break. My life has been a series of extreme mountains and valleys. From August to the beginning of November 2019, I felt greatly blessed and highly favoured. I just recovered from a two month period of being so depressed that I could barely function. I was not quite bedridden, but I was definitely couch ridden. About the only time I vacated the couch was to go upstairs to use the bathroom. Now that’s what you call clinical depression. During June and July all I could do was watch television. For the Christian who suffers from depression the battle is also one of intense spiritual nature. The devil loves using major affective disorder or clinical depression as of mighty and effective tool in his arsenal.  He wants to keep the Christian down. Once he has you functionally out of commission, you can no longer do him any damage. When I am stranded on the couch, my spiritual life dies. I no longer read the Word, spend time with Jesus, pray for myself, my family and others. In other words, my ministry and spiritual life has been halted dead in its tracks.

Looking back on it, I think I may know part of the reason I fell into such miserable state. But what I’m not sure of is what brought me back to the land of the living once again. Certainly it was nothing that I did because I wasn’t capable of doing much of anything. One day I simply woke up and started to feel a bit better. Within a couple of days, I could feel my depression start to break and I actually felt like doing a few small things. Within a week or two, I was finally back on my feet. What I was not expecting were such great compassion from the Lord. I’m a part-time substitute teacher and I experienced the best season I had ever had up until the beginning of November 2019. I was being very well received by the students and was asked by several teachers if they could request me to substitute in their classrooms. Although I’m still experiencing some pain in my left knee it was manageable and allowed me to keep working.

After many years I found a church that I enjoyed attending. This was quite an experience for me as most of my life I didn’t like attending church. I would only go to a church service on rare occasions.

Overall, I was enjoying every day of my life during this three month period of God’s extreme favour. During this whole time, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was feeling uncomfortable. This felt too good to last much longer. I almost felt high every day for three months.

During this season I was really pressing in with my spiritual life. I started to pray for people in the church that I was now attending.

Aout the second week of November I felt that my overall mood was starting to decline and even get a bit low. I was very afraid that I was starting to go down into another depressive cycle. During this time, I caught a bacterial infection that was very severe. As of this writing, I’m still not fully recovered from it. To make matters worse, the pain in my left leg and the was becoming intense. It seemed that every time I got up and moved around, even a little bit, the pain would start to escalate. How was I going to go to work when I was in constant pain?

 

During this time I continued to keep up with writing my blogs, and working on my fiction writing and podcasts. During periods of clinical depression,I am usually unable to write all. My writing was going very well for a while until I started running into many technical challenges. My computer was on its last legs and was not functioning properly. I purchased some new video equipment as I was interested in starting up a YouTube video series again. Whatever I tried, I couldn’t seem to get my new camcorder working.

I am now fully aware that I was under spiritual attack. I decided to take some actions. I told myself that I was not going to sink into another severe depression this time. The vicious cycle would need to be broken, once and for all. I began to decree this in Jesus name. I started to read my God’s promises books on my Samsung tablet. I also started listening to my God’s promises audiobooks. I have started to speak the promises out loud and include them in my podcasts. I put God in remembrance of his promises. I made a decision to remain optimistic during this time of spiritual attack.

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