A Silent Vow

A SILENT VOW
Most people don’t get jaded until they are at least twenty or thirty, while others realized there was something wrong with their fellow man at a very young age. Rewind a life tape to late nineties to see a boy just learning to drive a stick shift. Now, this little boy had been saving his entire short 15-year-old life to buy himself a car. You see he was always competitive and when his mother remarried, he became the youngest of five ranging from 15 to 22. All of his older siblings fought over the car and he wanted to be the first to get his own. The boy wouldn’t have to answer to anyone when he wanted to go somewhere. Well he saved up all his pennies and his mom helped him by matching every dollar he put into the bank. For years, he saved his pennies better than any kid his age till he saved up 3,000 bucks; 1,500 of which was his own money.
The boy is 15 and he has bought a red BMW. Don’t let that fool you; a Cuban refugee would call it “A piece of lizard shit on a hot day.” Nevertheless, the boy was so proud. He was about to get his learner’s permit and, being from a small town, his mom said he could drive out of the driveway and take a left. She figured even this boy couldn’t hurt himself on two miles of road. The boy hopped into his car one day after school and said he was going to the dead end and back to practice his stick shift. He leaves and due to a combination of shitty driving, even crappier roads, and a sun glare at just the right time, the boy flips his car upside down, flying twenty feet before landing on the roof.
The car slides on its roof, towards a cliff over a river. Since it was a small town, technically a village, there are no guardrails. Upside down, still buckled into his seat, the boy sees the oncoming cliff over a river, with only a few small trees in the way. The car smashes into a tree on the passenger side, destroying the door. It bounces into another tree on the driver side door, pinning the boy onto the center console by placing the driver side door on his left leg and hip. The car rebounded off this tree, facing the car perfectly towards the cliff it’s about to slide over. The young boy knows if the car doesn’t stop, it’s a thirty-foot drop onto a small beach or a river. He remembers playing on that beach, getting a huge chopping block and sailing around the point. The car loses momentum, but continues moving towards the cliff, crushing two more small trees and the hood goes over. The car teeters on the cliff’s edge as it slides over. He sees nothing out the windshield but beach and river thirty feet down. He dangles upside down pinned by the door that was neatly placed in his lap via oak tree number two. Then the car stops…
A small tree just before the cliff has gotten stuck in the sunroof. The boy realizes the car is still running and wheels still turning. It happened so fast he still has his foot on the gas. He shuts off the ignition and takes in his new situation. He is pinned in his seat by the door that was smashed onto his left leg. The other door is smashed and won’t open. Unbelievably, none of the windows are shattered.
Then he smells gas. Out of the pan and into the fire. This boy was always a bit of a fatalist and a James Bond fan. He knew a flipped car plus leaking gas equals fiery death. The count down begins in his head. THREE… I’m going to die a virgin. LIFE FAIL! He knows the engine is trashed, smoking, and gas is everywhere. He watches gas pool under him and run down the windshield towards the engine. TWO… I never sailed around the world so many times I forgot how many times. LIFE FAIL! He knows when the gas gets to the dashboard it will blow. He is strangely calm. He knows only once in your life is there no point in fighting. There is not enough time to get his leg free, break a window and get clear. ONE… I never had sex with 14 women at once on a boat. LIFE FAIL! He watches the catalyst of his death flow into the dashboard… Nothing. He sits there ready to be roasted by God. And nothing…
The boy says fuck it, I’m gone! Luckily, he is the runt of the litter and worms his leg free. He may have only survived the car being crumbled around him because he was small enough. He unbuckles his seat belt, not realizing it is the only thing keeping him in his seat; the car is upside down. As soon as he hits the buckle, the seat belt retracts snagging his left shoulder; he falls, dislocating his left arm. Simultaneously, his head smashes into the handle to open the sunroof. Remember, the car is a piece of lizard shit on a hot day and the sunroof has a hand crank. 81 BMW, baby.
The boy with a dislocated shoulder, major headache and covered in gas says, “Fuck. I got this.” He resolves to punch out the driver’s side window to escape. Slam. Did I mention the boy was a 15-year-old runt? He can’t break a window swinging in that cramped space. Smash. The boy says to himself, “Look fucker, do you want to burn to death? Or, get the fuck out of here, grow up to be a bad ass, and bang 14 Brazilian volleyball players on your sailboat?
BOOOOOOOM. The boy smashes the window and he is free. He climbs out of the car, with a dislocated shoulder, just in time to see an oncoming car. Finally. Help. This is over. He waves his right arm because he can’t lift his left. The car passes close enough so the driver and the boy can lock eyes. The boy read apathy in the driver’s eyes as the car passed by. At fifteen, the boy made a silent vow to himself. If he ever saw someone who needed help, he would help. He would never stoop to the servile level of leaving a small boy next to a wrecked car on the side of the road.
The boy knew he had to finish this himself. Cowboy up. He slammed his dislocated shoulder into the trunk of the car to knock it back in as he had seen Mel Gibson do in Lethal Weapon. Surprisingly, it worked on the second knock. He then ran a mile home so pumped up on adrenalin he didn’t even notice the piece of glass in his shoe that shredded his foot. The boy grew up, lived an interesting life to say the least, and wrote this story for you.
But he never forgot his vow to help others in need. Gentlemen always stop.

Thanks for ready America and if you like this buy my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live and help an author break out.  Available on amazon.com.  Don’t think because you have read my blog you have read my work.  I have held back key chapters that are only in the book.  Some sexy, some action packed, and others guaranteed page turners. Here is one of the reviews my book has received.  Follow me on face book (Taylor Oceans) and I will post your reviews with the rest.    http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385423520&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Posted by  in Blog LoveBooksLifeWriting

Earlier this year I shared some blog love when I wrote about Taylor Ocean’s blog, Playing Your Hand Right. Taylor’s story is interesting because although he’s been trying to get his writing published he was repeatedly turned away until someone suggested he tried to build evidence of a following through blogging, to show publishers that he had a readership audience. This month Taylor finally got his memoir book of the same name published, and I spent the day reading it.

wpid-thumbnail_image

To the uninitiated, the autobiography might come as a bit of a shock but if you’re familiar with Taylor’s blog which features part of his book in rough, it’s really a continuation of the rollercoaster adventure that is his life. From his village beginnings as the undersized son of a single mother, to his career as a coke-dealer, his relationship with his estranged father until his death and I think most significantly his developed life philosophy that he calls ‘being a Gentleman’, Taylor’s story is a tale of caution and exhortation, a call to live life decently, in a most irreverent manner.

“Some of this will not pertain to you, much of this will offend you, but I guarantee there is at least one good piece of information in my tales for you.”

His most ardent ‘disciples’ (his term for fans, not mine) will have to forgive me but I was taught the important of grammar, spelling and formatting to the effect that the pleasure of reading for me is part and parcel of the flow – and any deviations or lack of care in these areas will always affect the flow. It’s a small criticism for what essentially is the rather unique voice Taylor has in his writing, which in the end is what kept me reading on nevertheless; storytelling is an art and Taylor has found his medium, brush strokes be damned.

Taylor was right though – many things in the book I did not like or agree with, but this was not really a surprise. As readers of this blog will know, I enjoy the opportunity to learn more about what life is like for other people – it’s why I think personal blogging is such a great way to build empathy and give insight into the billion lives we’ll never live. We may have been born only a year apart, but my life could not be more different from Taylor’s, and so much of what he has to say at times (especially because this book is essentially a sermon to America) had little to offer me. I found myself wishing for a bit of light and shade, which is difficult to develop when you’re doing a drive-by through life, which is what this book is. I wanted Taylor to take me beyond the blog. Instead, it felt like he was standing just out of reach. But some things are universal, and these moments are amazing. There were so many moments I laughed out loud, and I’m not sure if he’s a fan of Breaking Bad but I think he could give Jesse Pinkman a run for his money. Taylor, I think you’ve got a amazing script in you that Hollywood would just love to eat up.

We are all stuck on this planet together till we get to Mars, or blow ourselves up. Don’t forget Zombies. So we may as well shut the fuck up, get drunk, possibly high depending on your state, have some protected consensual sex, and just COEXIST.

In the end it’s hard not to give props to Taylor, who I think whether you agree with his viewpoints or not, is very much one of us. For giving this writing thing a go and working hard to make this happen, from a fellow aspiring writer and blogger, kudos to you Taylor for using your voice. May it encourage more of us to do the same.

I bought Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live for Kindle/iPad,here.  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385423520&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

21 thoughts on “A Silent Vow

  1. Hey, thanks for following my blog. Just giving a shout out to you…I really enjoy your writing and quite honestly after reading your blog I’m rather surprised you follow mine but thanks, boss. Long live Artists and Writers…oh and let’s not forget the dreamers.

  2. You know I can clearly see how that would make you jaded. I am also one of those early jadees I’m not so sure how mine started though, maybe I’ll come across my own reason- I am already learning a lot about myself in my own blog.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s