Excerpts from my Journals of Emerson
Who is Emerson? He is a bit of an enigma - a part-time poet and full-time drunk. He is not famous or a celebrity, but he's what some might call a ladies' man, although, after a night with him, they often wonder why. Silver tongue devil...
As you may have noticed, these posts about events with Emerson are often compiled from various journal entries over multiple dates. Sometimes, I add bits and pieces from my memories of that time. 😉 While I'm not excusing my shameless debauchery, I have fond memories. I've been told that I had a great time. This particular story reflects a conversation that spanned several years.
I met Emerson when I was around 20 and living in Orlando. Or did he meet me? Either way, the events get blurry as time passes. When I turned 23, I moved to Tallahassee. The last time I saw him, he had playfully shoved me into the pool at my apartment.
Emerson had no way of knowing where I had moved or when. Emerson walked in when I was at the local bar, Bullwinkle's, with friends from my art history class, Darren and Mel. It was a slow night, and we had a table up front near the stage. At first, I was shocked to see him there as he sauntered—who saunters these days?—over to the bar. He said something to Rosita, who was behind the bar, then turned to me and gave me a wink with one of his piercing green eyes.
He walked over and said, "What's up, buttercup?" I watched him for a heartbeat and replied, "Well, it took you long enough." And that's how it has been between us ever since.
We sat there with my friends, feeling a bit hazy as we listened to Carlos and Friends at Bullwinkles. At one point, someone—either Darren or Mel—mentioned, "You know they're trying to bring mandatory prayer back to schools." You could almost feel the air quotes around "they're" as it was said. "The prayer was a bunch of nonsense when we had to do it in Catholic school." Mel looked a bit worried at the irritated outburst from Darren. I thought Darren had a bit too much to drink.
Emerson said, "No, prayer isn't crap. It's what people are praying about that is crap. People pray to their standard white Jesus and say make me fucking good. That will make them fucking good or stop fucking bad things from happening. Prayer shouldn't be you talking to a white man in the clouds. Prayer should be about your behavior in life." He emptied his beer and gave me a wink and one of his Cheshire grins. "I gotta hit the pisser." Later, I noticed him talking to a woman with deep brown skin and an incredible tattoo. After Emerson left, Darren, who had been quiet, mentioned that he needed to go. He took Mel's left hand, and she winced in pain.
Twelve years later, when the subject returned, I found myself broke and divorced. At the time, I was living in Palm Harbor and had seen Emerson occasionally over the years. Thinking about it, though, I never saw him while I was married. We sat at Ruby Tuesdays, where I knew the bartender, Lily, who felt a bit sorry for me and would occasionally give me a free pint.
I told Emerson I had recently learned that Darren had found God. I heard this from one of my old college roommates. Mel and Darren also broke up shortly after that night at Bullwinkle's. She left college, and Darren only mentioned when they had decided they weren't much of a match.
Emerson tipped his empty glass to Lily and waited for a refill before he spoke. "He use to slap her, ya know." He took a big pull off his beer and smacked his lips.
"Who, Mel? You only met them once," I said.
"Yeah, he was beating her," he said casually.
"Why? Because he found God?"
"No, it was because she wore a long-sleeved shirt at the bar mid-summer. She favored her left side because it was bruised. The makeup she wore barely covered the bruising on her left cheek. She probably got pushed down or into something—more because she feared him," he said. It was like he channeling Sherlock Holmes.
"She was with him for nearly three years," I said, trying to remember.
"Well, I'm sure he didn't start hitting her immediately. Ya know he worked up to it." He said as he swallowed the last from his glass. "Sometimes I weep at your cluelessness." He signaled to Lily for another drink. He gave her a wink and one of those grins. She laughed and moved on to the next customer.
He continued, "Remember that discussion about prayer and his dislike of it. He probably found God out of guilt and remorse as a way to ask forgiveness because Mel will never forgive him: people and their goddam prayers. Prayer should be you making your gestures count for something. It should be about deciding what you are doing is either fucking right or wrong. Before you do something stupid like hit a child or beat up someone weaker. Before going out, decide that bullying and shaming someone will make you feel better. Before you go out, scream at the world with violence and hatred because life is just too unfair. That's what fucking prayer should be. Anything else is just you deluding yourself that you are a good person. Prayer should be about you thinking before you decide to spill the figurative and literal blood."
Emerson looked at me and said, "Listen, you've experienced emotional trauma. In reality, it's not as significant as it feels. Your trauma, while it seems intense, isn't new or unique. You aren't as special as you might think. It's normal to feel rage and to lash out. However," he continued, looking directly into my eyes, "you are a good man. You have a son. Remember, this is not forever. None of this lasts." He waved his arms around, emphasizing everything around us.
He winked his blue eye at me and grinned his Cheshire grin, "Well, except me."
I have heard people praying; some say they even pray for me. Given the way things are sometimes, I wonder what they pray about.
Emerson's thoughts on prayer condensed...
"...No prayer isn't crap. It's what people are praying about that is crap. People pray to their standard white Jesus and say make me fucking good. Like that will make them fucking good or stop fucking bad things from happening. Prayer shouldn't be you talking to a white man in the clouds. Prayer should be about your behavior in life.... Prayer should be you making your gestures count for something. It should be be about deciding what you are doing is either fucking right or wrong. Before you do something stupid like hit a child. Before you go out decide that bullying and shamming a person will make you feel better. Before you go out and scream at the world with violence and hatred because life is just too unfair. That's what fucking prayer should be. Anything else is just you deluding yourself that you are a good person. Prayer should be about you thinking before you decide to spill the figurative and literal blood..."
Complied from two entries written on June 1994 and April 2004 - Updated February 23, 2025
Statues from the Garden of Good and Evil
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