Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

Daydreams to cope with sometimes take on lives of their own....

al·le·go·ryˈ (aləˌgôrē) noun

plural noun: allegories

   "A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one."

   “An Allegory is a form of extended metaphor in which objects, persons and actions in a narrative, are equated with meanings that lie outside the narrative itself.

The underlining meaning has moral, social, religious or political significance of abstract ideas as charity, greed and envy.

Thus an allegory is a story with two meanings, a literal meaning and a symbolic meaning.”

   Yes, I looked it the f*ck up and with that you know what is needed to be known to understand what the Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall book series is about.

  Oh I should add that the censor is pretty much off most of the time. PG this story is not. PG13 neither. R yes; but beyond that?

Shhh....

Now some background info on the place ”The R*tards" go to play.

(Pauley’s term of endearment for his patrons that don’t act their age, especially when sh*tfaced.

Think about what "r*tarded" means, then how it's used in every day language to be an insulting description.

Just like calling a child a "b*stard", some words should be questioned as too f*cked up to use like they're whatever.

"Wh***" is another one with an edge, and yes these words among others will be questioned, but you as readers decide the fate of these words as they apply to your personal vocabularies.)

   Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall is a sort of 'speak-easy' name for The Iron Horseshoe Tavern established back in 1974 by Paul "Pauley" Kelly.

It’s called this to keep what are now known as 'hipster' invaders away, and its whereabouts only known by word of mouth.

Is it elitist?

Perhaps.

Or it is about self preservation and preventing as long as possible, their haven from being taken over by those that do not honor tradition, nor would uphold Pauley's Code of Conduct.

  New folks are welcome, as long as they can respect the School House Rules and don't complain when Lucy gets unplugged; otherwise foos are getting their a*ses expelled!

   Over the years The Tavern has become a home away from home club house for old timers and mostly blue collar roughneck man children with its latest motley generation currently in their 30’s, give or take.

Some married with children or divorced with visitation on the weekends.

They have bills to pay, money to save, jobs to not f*ck up in order to do both.

Occasionally these a*sholes may brawl and Pauley’s shotgun Grace taken out to dance, with Jukebox Lucy playing the soundtrack; but overall the place is mellow on a weekday afternoon.

   The crowd that made The Tavern its watering hole is loyal and there is a sense of kinship between the boozer drunks.

Stories this tavern has no lack of thanks to the antics of the patrons, which also include my own.

   I wrote myself in as a character using my real name because all this stemmed from a daydream I had, to keep me company while I went for long walks with detours, in my new town of residence;

Boyle Heights, California.

   Though home for me will always be my beloved

East Los Angeles, Califas

   One day I thought of a man that didn’t exist to help me move on and let go of the past, by focusing on the existing hope of the present and lessons learned.

  Perhaps it was my way to prepare myself mentally for the future because I don't have much to my name other than my imagination.

 “Mikey, Jacob, Bobby, Joe, Paul, Davey, Alex, Dennis and Lou”

   Names of made up men that are a close knit pack of pals I will never forget.

They all represent an aspect of the men I have known, both in the good and bad; but they are human, even if fictional.

They are part of the details to the symposium full of zanies.

   This story experiment at times is a sort of open love letter to men that have shown their integrity even as they also try to get things right.

These men are strong but also weak.

Happy but still stressed.

Hopeful but discouraged at times with what they feel is out of their control.

It’s a mix we all endure, but with them; I feel how unequal men still are when it comes to expressing their feelings on it all.

How do I know?

I'm a daughter of one that expressed them regardless.

   The women in this saga also are shown going through their own life roller coasters and attaining their triumphs for they too are strong and capable.

It’s just with them, the way their stories are told is different.

How different?

The goal is to show we could use a little bit of understanding from the fellas.

With their stories, I hope to tell men that not all of us are their enemies or psychos, that more often than not, there was an issue with communicating and emotions go on edge.

We can be worthy of trusting and also respecting.

I hope to tell, we can have our bad days too, even if our hairstyles look nice; and we don't always know what the f*ck we're doing either.

We do know we could be wrong also.

No really.

Women are capable of knowing they can be wrong. Getting us to admit it, now that's something else.

*cough*

I want to show the men I was able to reach through to, women can be their friends as well, and shoulder part of the old burdens that say a man must bare these alone.

Even as women, we can relate and be more than arm candy hood ornaments, "Honey can you bring me a beer?".

  But this is to reassure the males that are willing to read, they'll have a place in what is usually considered female terrain.

  Yes this is a quirky soap opera Spanglish novela, for a subculture of those that bought in to what a friend called:

"The Rockabilly Retirement Plan for Punks, Skins and Goths".

And what was surprising, the guys did get in to it as much as the gals. I mean, how can I write an open love letter to men, if I don't include what matters to and interests them?

  From the serious like Erectile Dysfunction or even the car not starting and being already late for work.

To the "Are you f*cking serious!?!" and the latter said in two manners.

One with enthusiastic glee like they scored, and the other in BOHICA despair.

Espeakin' of which....

This is a bedtime story dedicated most of all to Our Troops and 'Docs' green side or civilian; for I do know the power of a reality break, if not reading oneself asleep.

And this because I want to "Play It Forward" and yes I do mean play.

  The man I would spend countless silent moments, wondering about his happiness and safety; he was the life lesson I needed to get me out of a bad place; even as I felt helpless knowing which bad place he was headed back to.

This Army Coptor Doctor ridding one of Anansi's spiderweb threads, tied to the foot of a Dragonfly Dustoff back in Stan; reminded me why being able to control your focus, makes dealing with difficult things, easier to cope with.

The chaos will still be there, it's how you allow it to affect you, that makes a very important difference.

You either learn how to hold on and fight or you don't. That "don't" had been my concern for him.

There was a reason his story began to stand out to me.

"Yet for me that also came from the desert, compassion I also knew how to show...."

  Eyes like his and lack of smile, you don't forget.

He had the face of many that aren't returning all that well; but his face comforted me when it would look silly; but haunted when it was a stoic with unintended, resigned grace.

  So this allegory that aims to be a cult classic, does have its soul, as that odd daydream of mine, found a life of its own.

And it became a Shoretale Fable of Therapy in Motion and thinking up the answers that become the solutions.

It's all just rhyming for the reasons, that carry us through the seasons of change.

Suggestion: Look up Grandiose, Ostentatious, Pretentious, Narcissistic, Delusional, Self Absorbed Motor Mouth, but most of all Ironic Catharsis. Thank you.

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Copyright ©2017 Rev. Mother L. G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Lagrimas Y Sangre"

The Power Of Moonlight

Press Play To Listen To Tiger Army "Power Of Moonlite" For The Soundtrack

The Lighthouse/My Apartment
Boyle Heights, CA
11:43pm

“Is it obvious why I’m leaving?”

“No. Hey did I do something wrong?”

 “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like I have something to do with it.”

“You want to know the truth?”

“Yea.”

“I need time to think and not act on my impulses so much.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Gina?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No Michael, I just need some time to take care of some things and think.”

  He has a look on his face that needs more reassurance.  How do I tell him why I got to step back, away and gone just for a little while?

  I don’t want to tell him, it’s bad enough he’s thinking he did something wrong. I got to walk off that hope things would change in to what is best to not be a wish I want to come true. I shouldn’t have looked…. Okay I looked and it rushed back but it wasn’t like before. So he’s still as beautiful as I remember. ****, he’s just another shore tale like all the others, but still…. I don’t want Michael to go through this moment that feels like it’s my weakness guiding again.
 
“Aye Mikey see the moon?”

“I see the moon.”

“Well Mikey, I see her too. She’ll shine her light and smile on both of us even if we aren’t in the same place.”

  He’s silent thinking himself.

“You still with me?”

“Yeah, I just don’t get why you don’t want to see me.”

“It's not that I don't want to see you. My heart needs time to think of what it wants to say.”

“So it is because of me.”

“Not completely but I do want to come back and see you again if that’s cool."

  He's quiet.

"It’s late, you should go home. I got finish getting ready; Susan is picking me up in a bit.”

“Where are you going?”

“The beach."

"At this hour?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"So we can throw our messages in bottles to the sea to ask it help us.”

“Help you with what?”

“To clear our heads and help us prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“To heal some more."

"Gina, we're okay though right?"

  I didn't want to be asked that.

"What do you mean?"

  F*ck! That's not what I wanted to say, see why I got to take a break?

"Well, you still like me right?"

"I do, but I got to tell you something about that."

"I got to light a cigarette, I'm sorry."

"Go for it."

  He takes out one of his Camel's Wides and sparks it with his Ace of Spades Zippo; he drags on it hard.

"I got some stuff going on in my head right now and I need to focus on clearing it out."

"You can't do it with me around is what you're saying then."

"You're taking it personally."

"Why wouldn't I? I thought we were fine, I thought you were fine. You told me a minute ago I'm part of the reason you are shutting me out. How the f*ck is that not personal?"

"Mikey, don't get p*ssed. I am very fond of you, you're beyond special to me, it's just that I need some time to think and be with my friends."

"Fine, whatever. I'll see you whenever you get back."

  He stands up off the stairs and walks away, and then he turns around to ask another question I didn't want to answer.

"It's because of another guy isn't? I knew it! You've been in your own little head space for a while, probably thinking of him the whole time we're together and I'm the a*shole that was oblivious that didn't get it."

"Michael, chill. I am cleaning out the attic okay so stop jumping to conclusions."

"The attic? What the f*ck does that mean?"

"Do you know who Shel Silverstein is?"

"No."

"He wrote kids books that adults should read too. One of his books is 'A Light In The Attic' If you look it up to see the cover of that book, he drew a person's head with a house for a scalp and there is a window with a light on."

"So what analogy are you trying to make?"

"The attic is my mind. I'm clearing my head so my heart can find a space up there just for you. Get it now?"

  Mikey looks at me, I see how his chest rises, then lowers back. I think he just gave away one of his fears or perhaps concerns, to make it less dramatic.

"Can you at least text me to say hello or something."

"What about me sending you postcards from the edge? I know your address."

"He smiles finally."

"You said prepare to heal more."

"I did."

"You said your heart can make space for me."

"Yes. I'm thinking it wouldn't be a bad concept for you to try and follow."

  He looks up at the sky to see the moon.

"I'll let you finish getting ready. Is it okay to kiss you?"

"Yes."

  I stand up and softly step towards him. He leans in close, I raise my head up and our lips touch. He whispers after we pull away.

"Don't be a stranger for too long."

"I won't be, my Front 242 T-shirt is still at your place and I'm gonna want it back."
 

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Powered by Squarespace.

Copyright ©2018 By Rev. Mother L.G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Sangre y Lagrimas"