I will most likely be writing several blog posts on the life and work of Alice Cooper. There is so much that can be said about Alice Cooper, real name Vincent Fournier, the son of a Baptist preacher. I will start somewhere in the middle of Alice’s musical and theatrical career. During his time with the original band, Alice was a serious alcoholic. What he fully realized that if he did not get help, he would be very likely to die of the disease of alcoholism. I believe that Alice checked himself into at mental health/substance abuse program. To make a long story short, he was able to achieve the state of sobriety.
There was an unintended. secondary benefit for Alice in that by getting to know his fellow clients, he found they provided him with an abundance of new material for his upcoming album titled From the Inside. His friends at the rehab facility provided him with lots of interesting life stories that he could incorporate into original new songs.
Episode forty-eight of Street Dreams When Herby Schultz awoke on the morning after the jukebox party at Harold Peyton’s house, he felt an emotion that he had rarely experienced in his life. It was somewhat like joy or even euphoria. Being an analytical person, Herby … Continue reading Street Dreams Episode 48
The Plot of Street Dreams by Ken David Stewart December 22, 2019 Harold Peyton suffers from severe bouts of clinical depression as well as writer’s block. Harold Peyton is physically healthy. Location Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, Elmwood. year 2019. Harold had been divorced from his ex-wife Clarissa for … Continue reading
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 … Continue reading Roswell 1947 Play and Podcast Part Three
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.