10 Pages

Write a book? Who am I to write a book? This was asked of me one day as I sat outside work on a day off. A guy who was a customer of my family’s bar and restaurant, told me I should write a book. I laughed. And said, who am I to write a book? And write a book about what? Your life he replied. I didn’t see what he meant at the time. To his mind, I was a 30 year old guy who accomplished more before he was 30 than most people will do in their entire life You were almost a navy SEAL, You saved a life, you traveled around the world as a DJ, you were in a movie, commercials you have a blind dog and that big Rottewiler who is super smart.. His words, not mine. I grew up in a small town and this was a local so pretty much anything outside his perspective was something to be said. But I had saved a life, which was a big to deal to pretty much nobody but my mom, and dad, and a few people who worked that night when Ivy and I shared the story with them. When I was 17, my homie Ivy and I ran into a burning building to save two little girls we didn’t even know. We just saw a house on fire, a mom screaming that her kids were inside, and when Ivy and I looked at each other, we knew we were going in there to save those little girls. We didn’t save the little girls, we saved an old man who was sleeping upstairs instead. When we got out of the burning house, the little girls were outside already in moms arms. Turns out they were at the neighbors house the entire time. Good thing too, because one of the main rooms upstairs was completely covered in flames when we checked it, and everything else was filling in with smoke from the ceiling down fast. Okay, so what, we saved a life, that was cool. Our next concern was lets get out of there before the fire trucks box us in and we are late going home. Time went on, and many years later I still never wrote the book. I didn’t have time. I had to find a place to live. I was living in a RV on the street with my dogs. I was selling art and looking for solid work. Some kind of 9-5, and find a second job just to make ends meet. I was a straight laced guy, meaning, I made all my money by legal means, and even though my parents owned a restaurant most my life, we were never rich. When they finally decided to sell the restaurant, it ended up in a Contract to Deed to a terrorist cell a bit after 9/11 that turned it into the worst Embers Restaurant in the Twin Cities. Apparently this terrorist cell was laundering money through the business while not paying my dad and holding up their end of the deal. They did not pay the employees, the city contracts, nothing. When my dad tried to kick them out, they found out where my dad lived, and tried scaring him. They didn’t know my dad was a Vietnam Vet who never talked about Vietnam. All I know is Department of Homeland Security, was all up in our family business for a bit when all my dad was doing was trying to get out of the thing he has been doing for 30+ years with his family before he had his own family. He was forced to take the restaurant back and try to sell it again. But now the condition of the place was, well… it was fucked. Completely fucked. It took two months to clean it and repair walls that were covered in mold. After it was remolded and cleaned thanks to one of those home loans that was going to burst in that 2008 bubble that my dad unsuspectingly took out, the shitty terrorist hangout was turned once again into a restaurant called Frisky’s, only now it has a full bar, and is open late. I guess growing up in that restaurant, I could write a book about that place alone. Side note though, every kid should spend 3 years working in a restaurant as part of a life requirement to learn how to deal with people. After the bar was open, I had left to go find my girlfriend of two and half years. She left during the two month clean up due to my dads lack of people skills at times, and her and I living so close for so long, maybe it was the death of our child, who knows, she split I went to go find her. I found her, but she had found someone else in that two months she was away. She left me with the RV and the Dogs and a year or so later, she met someone else and started having his babies. I was fucking heart broken. A few years later I was back in Minnesota again. This is where the story started really, but when I left to write it, I never wrote it. I distracted myself with life and I just drove around and made myself pretty much homeless just getting by, by selling art I would paint, or from DJ gigs I would find just by pulling into a place. All the money I made went into buying more records. You had to have the hot tunes and the hot tunes cost money. I was heartbroken and desperate to find a purpose in life. You would be amazed at the person one can turn into when they are desperate. I am naturally an introvert, so going out and selling myself, or my art is not easy for me. But when you are desperate, broke and have two dogs to feed, a person will do anything.
I never wrote a book. I read a few… I got some ideas, but I don’t know how to tell my own story because I started to not believe that it really happened. Time goes on and more life happened. Many things happened. And through the many things that happened, ok, now I got a story to tell. This life is weird, and for me it’s getting weirder. I have too many synchronicities and strange occurrences to just brush this shit off anymore. I have two I can share.. Case in point number 1: The day my life was saved which had nothing to do with this book, but it makes a pretty good point.
Now who knows how many times I came close to death. After my sister was born, my mom was pregnant two other times and lost both babies. Then I came about and as my mom prayed I would turn out to be okay, I came out with some weird jandhus thing, and tubes had to be put in my ears. Once Im free form the hospital at 11 months, I burn half my right side leaving a life time scar on my right arm, and who knows what kind of internal trauma. My first tattoo. As the scar was healing, I drowned in my aunts pool at 14 months old. By 4 years old, I fell off a boat in the Mississippi River and again nearly drowned. Around the age of 9, my parents entrusted some kids that worked at their restaurant to drive me home. They went through the train track guard arms, and we barely missed getting hit by a train. I have been in places where gun fire has gone off, bombs, and I have had a gun put to my head by a crazy lunatic. I did not press charges because I was off to the Navy. I was all gun ho to be a Navy SEAL. So much so they guaranteed it on my contract after a written test and two heavy interviews by high ranking officers. I must have presented myself as the best toy solider they could mold into anything. But that Navy SEAL contract mistake got me out of the Navy, because I had a heart condition and that labeled me a risk hazard to the SEALS and I was forced to roll out until medically cleared… and when I went to go back into the NAVY to try again, God spoke to me for the first time I reckoned as I grabbed a door handle of the Navy building. Something… some kind of force came over me and said, don’t go. So I didn’t. Instead of applying for the Navy and volunteering to be a SEAL and make less than 50K a year risking my life, I applied for some credit cards instead, risking a credit score I knew nothing about, and bought 2 turntables and a microphone. As I was leaving the Navy, I snuck off base for the second time and went into town and went to my first night club at age 19. There I found out, I want to be a DJ. Not even a year after turning myself into a DJ, I was moving to NY to work with some famous people. At the last minute plans changed and I went to Miami instead where I knew no famous people, or anyone for that matter. So here I guess is where I start to see something strange in my story, I always seem to choose the adventure… And what the customer at my parents restaurant was referring to.. Whatever I choose to believe in, or do, seems to happen. And not only does it happen, It happens with success, synchronicities, and strangeness hitting me like a tone of bricks. Back to my case in point. After having a successful Dj career before the internet, Saving a life, helping many people along my path, I was over it. Spoiler alert… This story is about a Dog, and the dog dies in the end, I loose the girl and Im heart broken But when the dog died, so did I. At the same time I lost the dog, I lost my house, my car, my turntables, my 20 years of collecting vinyl records, gone. I had to sell my surf boards and paddle boards for next to nothing. My 9-5 job sucked, and my new girlfriend of a year was cheating on me, and lying about it to everyone, when everyone knew including me. So one day I was over it. I was stuck living outside in a tree house with no windows. It was 40 degrees outside with 80 percent humidity. I lost everything this story is about and I decided I was going to kill myself. I could have made it quick and messy and just shot myself in the head. I had a .380 handgun fully loaded ready to go. I held it in my hand, I put it to my head to see what it felt like when i was in control vs someone else.. This was such a real moment for me. Time moved so slow. Seeing I was stuck living in a fucking treehouse, I decided to hang myself from that tree. So you are either reading a dead mans story… Trust me, I truly feel like I am dead sometimes, Or you are reading a story of a man who is actually dead, but alive somewhere else. The second one applies here, which I will try to explain the best I can. Right before I was about to jump and snap my neck, my phone made a noise. Now it’s a lot of detail outside this story, but my life had gotten very strange up to this point. The same girl who was cheating on me, her and I meditated, and both witnessed the night sky open up. After it happened, she explained what I had seen, when what I had seen was impossible. So my life was really fucking strange at this one point and to stick to the story… My phone goes off and it makes me get down from my noose and check the phone. Its a message. Hey Jeremy, it’s B, I need to talk to you right away, can you please call me? I did not have B’s number so I replied with Here is my number, call me within the next five minutes, Im on a work break. After that im busy. My phone rang, and it was B. He was calling me crying, he was sad, angry, and he was technically a stranger. We went to high school together and in this phone call, he reminded me he worked for my dad in the restaurant back in his high school days. I now remember that and was wondering what is going on here. We were not close friends and you were getting in the way of my suicide. He composed himself and said he wanted me to thank my dad for him. Wait.. Why do you want me to tell my dad thank you? My dad taught B a lot about restaurants, cooking and being a solid employee, and B was calling me to tell me to tell my dad this before B… was about to kill himself. Yeah let that sink in.. I was about to kill myself when another guy who was kind of a stranger and was going to kill himself while drunk by driving his car off a cliff, called me. I listened to B. I never told him how shitty my life was and today B and I are both alive. I tried to kill myself and a full on miracle happened. Just like the miracle of my birth, my survival of burns and drownings, I was going to kill myself that day, no shit, and something did whatever it could to stop it. A few months before this, I came across a crystal skull that seemed like it was 100,000 years old. When I carried it, it took that time away from me while I held it. It planted memories in my head that were in the future, that later through synchronicities, I saw that future come true. I don’t even know how to tell this story. To me, it is unbelievable and it is my own fucking life. It does not seem like a normal life. If I were to compare my lofe to a movie character, I am for sure the hero on some kind of quest. It’s nothing special, Or maybe it’s very special just seems like its straight out of a sci-fy movie. Everyone has a story, but what mine is, is mine. I just want to show you we can tap into this “thing” and take control if we truly want it. We can tap into something that is bigger than us, and is waiting to speak to us if we are willing to see and listen. Am I talking about God here? I don’t know. I just know through these next few stories, you may see something working that you cannot see. You may feel something that you cannot touch. All these stories are true. They are in a past that set forth this presence that I now carry with me. All these stories happened for me to write and you to read. Nothing is random here. Case in Point II: I was asking my jungle cat who God is while sweeping my floor debating on when to go get food. Food was over an hour drive away on muddy wet roads during an 8 day rain storm. I could not hold out any longer, I needed to go to the store. I was in Central America in a tiny beach town with maybe 50 people in it. And the closest real store was far. While debating on going, and putting the question to my cat of who God is, I started singing Beastie Boys, You gotta fight for your right to party. This was strange to me and I started to have a bunch of crazy thoughts.. 4 hours later when I finally went to the store, the store had music on and after being in there for several minutes, Beastie Boy’s, you gotta fight, came on the radio. Get the fuck outta here.
I punched my only child neighbor for making fun of me and his mom put up no trespassing signs all along the border of our property. The 15 signs Dorthy Ross staked into the ground made a fucking statement to a 6 year old. I was troubled. My dad didn’t seem to want me, he was always drinking, and mad at something. He was about to leave my mom, but I was born after my mom lost 2 babies. When I was burned at 11 months, my mom could not stomach the site of her baby all burnt up, and my dad stepped up and cleaned my wounds. I was a screaming baby, in pain the first year of my life. At 14 months I fell into my aunts pool. I was at the bottom for a few seconds but when they pulled me up, all I wanted to do was sleep so they were concerned. Between 14 months old and 4 years old, I have a few memories. Some of my grandfather who killed himself before cancer took him down. I remember him grinding something and my mom holding me because I was scared of the sparks flying around. The men laughed. I remembered. I remember my grandpa and he died when I was 4. Before the age of 4, I remember being taken out of my bed by an invisible force. Pulled backwards out of my room and down the hall. I was facing down and could touch the carpet, but I could not grab it. I could see my mom and dads bedroom, but as I yelled, I was speechless. I turned the corner to the stairs that go down to the front door. I did not go down the stairs, I was levitated at that same hight over the stairs as they dropped out from under me. I was scared and did not realize i was getting pulled out of the house. The next thing I truly remember is being back in the house, being placed on the front steps, what I last remember seeing. After being put down, something picked me up and put me back in my room and in my bed, and two people walked away. Why do I have this memory? I have had it ever since I can remember I can remember back to when I was 3 and a half or sooner. This set up my relationship with death pretty casual. This world has always seemed strange to me. Am I even part of it? Was I used to replace the real Jeremy, and I am now realizing it? Did this happen to all of us? Do we all grow up with a gay neighbor trying to molest us and we have no where to run because of some dumb bitches no trespassing signs got us stuck? Fuck these bullies. I know, Ill bring a gun to school and show them. Nope. I got a busted tailbone and some time in Juvenile Detention with a shit ton of community service instead. And instead of killing this asshole and shooting his friends, later in life that same asshole was my friend and rooting for me in my senior year of high school. I didn’t want to kill people, I wanted to save people. Save animals. Save teachers from would be terrorists. Hollywood did a number on my reality and although I was a straight kid, no drugs and just a little mischief like the whole gun on a school bus thing. The Navy took me in, I passed the first SEAL qualifying test the second time out of three. I was on my way until I had a small heart attack or something while playing water polo with some real deal SEALS who did not play water polo by the rules. Why was I playing water polo with Navy SEALs? Ask Bill Clinton. But it was during that time, I had a heart thing that caused them to disbelieve their own heart rate math system. As I lay on the pool deck after being freshly flung out like a 180lb fish by a powerful SEAL with his one arm, My blood pressure was low. For the amount of time I was treading water, my heart rate should have been fast but it was not. I drowned twice, water doesn’t scare me anymore and Im rather calm in it. This got me a breach of contract vs a medical discharge thanks to them putting Navy Seal as my job title. Right before I left the Navy, I convinced one of the night guards to let me back in the building if I was late. He didn’t care and off I went where I discovered what a DJ was. This dude was playing jams and making people dance. I knew these songs. I could do this is all I thought. Once out of the Navy, I tried to go back in, but GOD stopped me. I turned one day and he was like hey bro, don’t go, and I didn’t. Side note, If I hd gone back in, I would have made SEALs, but I also then would have been completed with my contract the November after September 11, 2001 attack… meaning I would have been forced to reenlist, and go to war. Fuck war, I got credit cards instead and went to war with them after most the shit I bought on the cards was stolen. I bought turntables, a mixer, headphones, needles. I brought all this home on a city bus. Im so lucky nobody robbed me, shit. I then took a bus to a record store and started spending money I did not have to spare on vinyl records. I then joined a record pool ran by Prince’s Dj, Brother Jules. Within a year, I was invited to go work in New York City with Nina Simone’s daughter Lisa and her husband Rob. The day I was leaving for NY, Rob called and said not to come now, because he had a falling out with his business partner. Shit now what? I was in my van with a rented trailer attached to it full of my life… I called a random guy I had met in Brother Jules’s Record Store who lived in Miami. Jules, knew a girl in Miami who worked at a club, and she too was from Minnesota. Within 12 months of buying turntables, and 30 days after arriving in Miami, I was the DJ for Trech of Naughty By Nature’s birthday. Then I was the new resident DJ of this all black, Miami Beach club called Onyx. Soon after I was Djing for Def Jam Music parties, and many other events that carried along with them many famous people that I didn’t even know who they were. Barry Bonds’s sports agent found me and while Barry was in his car, Barry heard my mix, and requested 10 different mixes and told me to name a price. I said give me $10 each, they responded are you sure. I had many hustles in Miami, but I was not a good hustler. You had to be, to stay alive. I was on the forefront of the behind the scenes action when it came to modeling, music, acting, movies, and commercials. I met a ton of people but one stood out. A 6 foot tall south african girl who entrusted me to keep her ferrets for her while she ran off to SA to get married to some poor guy she later stood up at the alter. When Audrey came back to Miami after saying she would never come back, she got back into modeling and sat next to a model holding photographs of some furry creatures. See, what happened next is classic. This random model ended up with the ferrets I was entrusted to take care of for the rest of their lives or mine, whoever dies first, looses. This new model girl who got these ferrets from my friend who offered to put them in his casting shop, took photos of her new furry creatures, developed the photos and went back a few days later to pick the photos up. The ferret photos turned out clear as fuck with the best lighting for 1999 at that time. Then this bitch sits down at a casting next to Audrey who was supposed to be in South fucking Africa…. Married, and pulls out these ferret photos. Audrey instantly see’s her children on another woman’s arms and has lots of questions. Well when this woman’s story had nothing to do with me in it. Audrey said this mother fucker better be dead. Well it was 1999. I was alive and kickin’ it hard in my DJ career and life. I was back and forth From Miami to Minnesota. Fuck those ferrets, I got a dog now instead, A Lil Pit Bull named Ruka and after my car was stolen In miami, I went back to my comfort zone in Minneapolis, only trained as a DJ with some hot records and music from Miami. Back in Minnesota, I quickly regained my dancehall reggae scene I started growing into becoming a better DJ. There were a few before me, but nobody did it like me. I used to carry records in for DJ Khaled, I opened for Kid Capri, I had the smooth mixing style of Brother Jules, I was on top. Then I quickly got bored. God sent his son Jesus to tell me the girl I was seeing for the last 4 years was not the one for me. We broke up, I moved into my own place, and soon after, I was headed back to Miami to then go to Trinidad to start a new company with a homie named Asa Sealy. When I got to Miami, Asa did not answer my calls and I was basically stuck for two weeks. I finally got lucky/laid with a long term girl friend that never gave me play until this time, and when I went to go finish my last week at an old coworkers house, Audrey happened to be there, and we didn’t know it was us. The next day she realized it was me as we walked down the street with our mutual friends, laughing having a good old time. Like she said she would if I gave her ferrets away, she punched me in the face and tried to kill me right there on the side walk. My Nextel phone took most of the damage. That was November. By January 1, she randomly called my Minneapolis apartment and asked me for my address to send me a late Christmas present… 10 minutes after I hung up, she called back and said she was outside my building because she heard i wanted to move back to Miami and I was having trouble finding a ride down. On that ride down, we fell in love with each other. A beautiful super model fell in love with the nerdy guy who never thought he had a chance. A few months later we get a dog who is able to protect us when we drive the RV we were rebuilding to Costa Rica. We spend 24 hours, 7 days a week together with two dogs. One a blind pit bull, and the other a 95 LB Rottweiler. We do this for 2.5 Years. in the end, shit happens in the form of “yeah my dad can be a jerk, but he really is a nice guy, and he is def in one ear, that is why he ignored you”, “Okay, lets give the relationship wings and if it is meant to be, in 2 months I will come and pick you up in Miami. 2 months later I was too late. 2.5 Years and a broken heart later, I was still lost. I went back to what I know and was guaranteed, Restaurants. I had to sell the RV. Dogs were not liking their new house life. I was not liking life, work, or this method of survival. I left the restaurant biz and enterd sales.I got a sales job by lying then telling the truth. I then got promoted to Ops because I was failing at sales, they liked me. Before they burned me out in Ops, they moved me to management where I got the same pay, less hours and I get to manage 3 chicks who were all pregnant at the same fucking time. I get to pay other people large amounts of money for lying and cheating at a fucked up unchecked system due to shitty pay with big bonuses. When I didn’t have to work, my girlfriend was getting me into this power of now shit, Be in the present moment kinda shit. Love everyone, magic crystal skulls blah blah blah. Goofy hippy shit. And I was a hippy they say living in a RV, or I used to anyways, some time ago. Now Im a corporate slave. What the fuck happened? One day I get introduced to a crystal skull going by the name of something mayan but you can call him Pancho. I thought Pancho and everybody that followed along with it was crazy. The crystal skull was crazy in the fact it was a big life size, if not bigger crystal skull that was hallowed out. It seemed impossible because all the other crystal skulls are solid when I looked them up online trying to prove that they were hocus pocus bull shitus. Then I was told to carry Pancho out of a ceremony one night. There my whole life was changed. I saw the future, then I was able to open a hole in space and time while having a conversation with the universe. My life was strange, but now it just took a wild turn that I am not sure if I am really seeing or not. My life sucked in the now, I had to work like a slave while everyone else was having fairy parties and 8 hand massages. I hated my life. After calling my bosses boss and telling him fuck you, you are fucking stupid for not seeing the shit I see when it is right in front of your face. I Fucking quit, this is my 2 month notice. He laughed because he knew my attitude and temper towards life and calmed me down by offering me a job to run this international security companies branch in Hawaii because he knew I liked to surf, and he knew I knew the company inside and out with ot without the needed college degree. Wait. I barely graduated high school, I did not make it into the SEALS, and I lied on my resume to get this job, and you want me to go run the branch in Hawaii. Yes he said, it would be a great fit for you. When I turned it down for personal reasons and still said I was quitting, I was told I was going to get a call from someone else and to just give him honest answers to all his questions. I got that call, and within 2 weeks, I was on a plane to another country joining a special operations team where all I can say is I worked with SAP to rebuild some bullshit people were trying to get away with. It was at this time I lost everything. All my memories in life seemed to disappear. I was not close to my family. My parents were doing their thing trying to get out from under the restaurant, my sister had her family and was never really close with me. I lost my car, house, girlfriend, my dog needed to be put down. All my years of collecting records, gone. This is when I tried to kill myself and some angel stepped in stopping it. Now alive, I went to work on this new project with the idea it was going to give me the money I needed to get away and write this book. I could take the money and run to a foreign place where I can relax in peace and write this book. I was going to quit after 6 months. They set me up in a hotel, unlimited flights, rental cars and an American Express card. I essentially had zero bills and was able to save all my money. No kids, no girlfriend. This was going to work out. I would get to 10k saved easily. Maybe even 20k. 2.5 Years later, I was well over that and had a passport full of stamps. With all of North America rolled out successfully, our team was now going over to Europe and that side of the world. I needed a break. I took new homie I met on the street a few months back to Costa Rica for his Birthday. I had the money and we made the time. Once in Costa Rica, I had a Dejavu that left me in tears and wondering what had just happened. I even remember the night I first had the dream that later became this real life Dejavu. That is what made it so strange. The dream was before I met the girl who told me about costa rica, and when i was in costa rica, I had the dream again. Then later that night in a restaurant, the mirror in the mens room had a sticker some graffiti artist made that only said one thing. Minnesota. The state I was born in. What the fuck. Minnesota in this Costa Rican bathroom? When I got to the bar to tell Devin about the sticker, the bar tender Gina, asked if I was really a DJ. Yes I said, probably the best you will ever hear. She offered me a monthly gig on the spot if I moved there, and said I could find even more work in the town an hour away that was really just 14km away but through the jungle. Devin and I finish our vacation and I go back to my 9-5 that was actually 95 hours a week. This is what allowed me to save up the most money I have ever had in my life. I was 36. I took the vice president out to lunch at my job and in 2 hours I told him I wanted to go write a book before going over to Europe. I needed a break. 2 years of 95 hours a week should only be illegal if you are not getting paid overtime. I got overtime, time and a half, and bonuses. And remember, I had zero expenses. Before going to write my book, I went to Egypt. I started writing in Morocco, but the place I was renting sucked, so I hopped on a plane and went to Cairo using up my Hilton points. At the Hilton I was safe, but out in the streets of Cairo, by myself in Egypt, probably not the best idea. But I met a cool guy “with a helicopter” and later found I could trust him, even when he was doing 80km at night headed the wrong way down the highway trying to get me to the airport. This is the same guy who kinda tried to take advantage of my money before racing us the wrong way down the highway, and he also listened to every word I said in english when I saw the set up to have me kidnapped right in front of the pyramids using a camel to block the road. So while in Egypt, walking through the ruins, I came across a door with the name Ruka on it, spelled just like my dog. What were the chances? After leaving Africa I headed down to Central America where I settled into the very random town that had the Minnesota sticker on the bathroom mirror. I found a place to call home, and the fortune teller I met before making this trip was correct, I would be distracted here. I would loose a lot again here. But I would not loose everything. I have spent 7 years almost alone in the jungles of Costa Rica reflecting back on this thing we call life. Why we are here, and what our adventure as a species is. I only found the answer for me, as a species, I don’t know, remember Im not from this planet. None of us are. We are souls with some dope ass space ships experiencing the human experience. We are always listening to ourselves, it’s when you actually want to take action is when you start to recognize what you actually are. Love tainted with others peoples past experiences to be presented as our own until we choose to lead our own adventure.