What does 1979 and 2007 have in common? Both of those years have the same days of the month falling on the same day of the week. For example, Halloween in 1979 fell on a Wednesday. In 2007, Halloween also falls on a Wednesday. In 1979, Christmas fell on a Tuesday and in 2007 Christmas falls on a Tuesday. If that's not all, 1979 was followed by a leap year in 1980 and for the 1st time since 1980, 2008 will have the exact same dates and days of the week that 1980 had. With that in mind, I will do a 1979 retro flashback; so let's get started with a happy story! On May 25, 1979 United Airlines flight 191 crashed killing all 271 passengers on board. It was emerging in the 1970s when everyone in the community started to come together to pretend to care about 1 another, which is quite common now-adays.

    In a lot of ways, things were looking up for me during the late spring and early summer of 1979. For the 1st time in my life, I was making "friends" at school, or so it appeared. Me and Jimmy started to become good friends and he was quite popular (which by today's standards would immediately raise a red flag, but back then I didn't know any better) which means he was well liked and had lots of friends. Jimmy and his friends wanted to know if I beat off and they actually admitted that they do. I was thinking that was so cool! As the semester progressed I was for a way too short lived period of time happy, hopeful and optimistic about my future. I continued to talk to and hang around Jimmy while I was in school, but I never saw him out of school. On the last day of school, I was walking with Jimmy and a couple of his friends. Jimmy asked me to do him a favor and what was that? He wanted me to cut my fingernails, in which another red flag came up causing me suspect that he was a fucking asshole. I didn't say anything and went home. Later that day, Jimmy called and asked if I wanted to see a movie with him. He wanted to see Norma Rae. I said that was fine. He wasn't sure which time he wanted to see the movie so he said he would call me back. Then that shitbag asshole never did.

    It was also during the summer of 1979 that I got to see South Florida for the 1st time. My brother moved to Pompano Beach in October 1978 and me and my parents went down to see him in June 1979. From all the propaganda I heard, South Florida was the most beautiful place on Earth, especially right after Chicago got hit from the "Blizzard of 79." They made South Florida sound like paradise where people are all happy, sitting by the pool and having drinks and now an important public service announcement: If you sober up, you will realize that Florida sucks, so continue to drink by the pool and stay drunk and if you're lucky, you will slip into a coma and croak before you run out of money and you'll never know what hit you. Anyway, my parents and brother told me that I would love South Florida and I was duped and brainwashed so bad, I couldn't wait to see it! It was on June 13, 1979 when we left for South Florida. The oil companies decided to fabricate an energy crisis and most gas stations were closed and the ones that were open had very long lines and we were just about out of gas. We were stranded in Nashville. It was almost impossible to find a vacancy at a motel because people were stranded. We finally found a motel. It was a very stressful situation and what did my parents do about it? They took it out on me. While at the motel, I ran outside with binoculars looking at the moon and I put a thermometer out to see what the temperature was. I was supposed to give that up because that made me look "weird" to a bunch of fucking assholes I would never see again anyway and it kept my father awake because it got him so worked up. My father had to get up at 6:00 in the morning and had to wait in line for over 3 hours to get gas. I don't think my parents were able to take a shit and stink up the motel room, like they usually would do when they traveled. We left Nashville with a full tank of gas and once we got about 100 miles south of Nashville, gas was available and the lines weren't too long.

   June 15, 1979 was our arrival date in South Florida and the weather was too fucking hot and I got my first impression of South Florida when we got off the Florida Turnpike at Hammondville Road. That area didn't look like paradise. It looked more like a fucking cesspool and the air smelled like rotting garbage. By the time we got to my brother's apartment, things didn't look much better. Yet, my parents were planning on buying a house there.

    The first 3 days we were in South Florida, I went with my brother and my parents looking at houses. It was so fucking boring; I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. I couldn't stand it when my parents had "serious" conversations with my brother so I changed the subject. I started talking about beating off, although I didn't tell them that I beat off. No one was impressed and my mother thought I was crude. Oh well. People who talk about beating off are cool.

    When I got back to the Chicago area, I was hoping that I would have heard from Jimmy, but the shitbag never called me. I was extremely bored that summer and the weather was too fucking hot, but something very exciting happened on July 12, 1979, which was disco demolition at Comiski Park that I wasn't able to go to. Another good thing that happened during the summer of 1979 me and my parents went to a neighbor's house for a cookout and there was a lot of good delicious food to eat. That was the same time that my father mentioned that a good way to replace a pet when it dies is to get a picture of a horse. I decided to reply to that "brilliant" comment by mentioning that I would rather have a picture of a whore. My father was pissed off as hell at me for embarrassing him like that in front of the neighbors, but at least I got even!

    I was so bored during the summer of 1979; I couldn't wait to go back to school. What a mistake that was! My first day back at school was on September 5, 1979. The next day, September 6, 1979 was my 16th birthday and it would end up turning out to be one of the worst days of my life. I discovered that Jimmy wasn't in any of my classes. I saw Jimmy, just before the end of school and that motherfucker didn't even say high to me. There was a total eclipse of the moon and I don't know if I can believe in astrology or not, but I wonder if the alignment of the planets and moon caused that day to be so fucking horrible? I was never more depressed and down than that day. I felt so fucking low I can't even describe it, but it sucked. I was actually crying uncontrollably for hours as I felt that I had fallen into a black hole of extreme isolation.

    My therapist once asked me "what did you learn from going through this extreme feeling of grief?" Oh and it was on March 3, 1980 when I called Jimmy to ask him a question and he wouldn't answer it and he told me not to call him. Well, I learned that popular kids are a bunch of weak-minded, stuck up and snotty, conformists pieces of filth and their mothers should have had abortions and their unborn fetuses should have been scraped out of their mothers twats! Also now that I look back on the 271 people who were killed in that plane crash, my feeling is fuck em. I have been through enough of my deep pain and hurt, so fuck em! Now the most important thing that I learned is that in my previous lifetime, I was Laura Ingalls and I was punished by having to go through this type of grief because I said too many nice things in my novels, instead of telling it like it is. This retro flashback is far from over, so I will talk about retro-flashback 1979 part II, sometime during the late winter or spring 2008, so be there or be square!

This will probably go down as the deepest that Pat was willing to go with how hurt or in other words, how he was fucked over by people and there will be a part II of this story coming down the pike.  Guess what tv show influenced Pat's writing style?  If you guessed Little House on the Prairie, you guessed wrong.  Of course Pat was Laura Ingalls in his previous lifetime, but Little House on the Prairie reminds Pat of the mistakes that he made when he was Laura Ingalls, which is depressing and that sucks because he got punished by having to go through all the shit that he went through and still may have to go through in the future.  It was Maud that had a major influence on Pat's writing!  Maud would be so depressed and down talking about her deep pain and then she would then say something that is very whacked out and bizzare.  That's what Pat does!  With that in mind, it is important to continue reading Pat's 2007 Vision of the World Page, in which you will be informed, while being entertained at the same time.