(Contact Info: larry at larryblakeley.com)
Important Note: You will need to click this icon to download the free needed to view most of the images on this Web site - just a couple of clicks and you're "good to go." For reasons why - go here.
A listing and access link to all:
song lyrics and mp3 audio files http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/songs/ (all of which are a part of this Web site) can be accessed simply by selecting the "htm" file for the song you want;
quotations http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/quotations.htm; and
essays written by Larry Blakeley http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/articles/articles_larry_blakeley.htm,
all of which are used to tell the story in this Web site, can be accessed by going to each respective link set out above.
My son, Larry Blakeley http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/larryblakeley_photos_jpeg.htm manages this Web site.
Major Roy James Blakeley (December 10, 1928 - July 22, 1965) - USAF (KIA)
When I was young my dad would say
Come on son let's go out and play
No matter how hard I try
No matter how many tears I cry
No matter how many years go by
I still can't say goodbye
- "I Still Can't Say Goodbye," Performer: Chet Atkins
MP3 audio file/lyrics http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/songs/still_cant_say_goodbye.htm
For a larger image click on the photograph.
Where did it come from? Were we born with it? Or, did we just automatically take it on as a direct knee-jerk reaction to the proverbial "slapping of our buttocks" - our first life’s experience, our first prerequisite to life - our first breath - and emergence into this world of pain and suffering?
Or, possibly, we learned shortly thereafter in our young lives - from each other - no particular teacher of this accepted action - just a consensus amongst the group, of an acceptable consequence of entry into our distorted and false perceptions of the unknown world of manhood - all of us, just boys in play, all formed from birth to be essentially indistinguishable in spirit - the same image of ourselves - an image of association that we understood to be a prime requisite to manhood; a criteria of manhood that we thought was required - an image that we understood to be the true pictorial representation of a man.
And, so this group of boys banded together and developed some sort of unspoken "consensus of acceptability" of those things we understood to empower us to reach the pinnacle of manhood, became the necessary element of strength to play our boyhood game called, "King of the Hill" - a game that I described in my story, "Why You Can't Learn," http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/articles/why_learn_abstract.htm.
And, we accepted this weapon of destruction, as a necessary asset of survival in our game of play - a game of boyhood youth whereby we honed and sharpened this demon of false strength and true destruction - an emotion that had served us so well in this game of ours. And, our game transformed us into what we believed to be men - if only for that one moment when we were standing upon top of the hill.
And, yet, somewhere along the way - this accepted emotion seemed to gradually disappear from acceptance by all around us. We became older and we were told that this was no longer acceptable in the "new world" that we were being forced to enter. And, if you insist upon resorting to this primitive emotion you will pay the consequences.
- "Men, And Our Anger," Larry Blakeley, November 1, 2004 (yet, still, a working project - for the rest of my life).
File Name: men_and_anger (3,372 words; 19 minutes @180 words/minute)
Post Date: November 1, 2004 at 2:45 AM CST; 2045 GMT