This is a story of philosophy, drinking Canadian Whiskey and fishing for Chinook Salmon.
Ted Sakozik was a man born compelled to poke sleeping bears and smash square pegs through round holes. These traits, along with his indomitable spirit, made him an excellent litigator until after personal tragedy, his legal career ended abruptly.
Anymore, Ted’s interests were philosophizing and pontificating while drinking Canadian Whiskey at Uncle Andy’s Tavern on lower Queen Anne Hill in Seattle. He prefers to keep people at a distance and perfected the art of the two-floor conversation. He limited his interaction with others to what could be discussed in a two-floor elevator ride. Ted liked his simple, uncomplicated, insulated life.
His idyllic world was interrupted when he is diagnosed with a terminal sickness. He shares the news with the person closest to him, his bartender Rob. Rob inspires Ted to think of what he wants to do with the limited time he has remaining.
Ted concludes his last dream on Earth is to catch a big Chinook Salmon, a mighty Tyee. Against his doctor’s orders he makes his way to Campbell River, British Columbia and one last time, drops a line in the Tyee pool.
Motivated by his own impending demise and honoring his son who never was able to make the trip with him to pursue a Tyee, Ted becomes obsessed with the big fish; and that’s when the magic happens.
“Somethings are worth dying for.” – Ted Sakozik
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“If you could choose to do anything, to live any lifestyle other than how you’re currently living, if you want to alter the smallest part of your life in any fashion and you’re not in process of doing so: currently you’re living a lie.”
Quote from Ted Sakozik, “The Dive Bar Prophet,” by D.L Edison
Coming November 8th, 2018
He only wants one good night sleep before he dies.
This and other short stories coming Spring 2019 in the collection,
Sex, Drugs and Junior High by D.L Edison.
Depending on it’s keeper, truth is: factual, mythical or bullshit.
A crowed room of us could really stink.
Lizzie Borden had the right idea.
I wonder who she did first, the father or the step-mother.
“We’re always here for ya Lizzie!” Likely rang in her ears as she muscled the first skull popping blow with a smile.
And what about the brothers?
I’m feeling quite transgender as I decide which door through I will go
I prefer the ladies room
It’s clean; it smells so fresh
It’s worth the wait –the line is rather slow
As I walked in I got a strange stare
From a woman at the sink
I knew what she was thinking, and I didn’t even care
See I was born a male; junk and all
My gender identity is that of female, I should have been born that way
The penis that I came with, is so very small
It just so happens I like to wear; baggy jeans, a Yankees ball cap, fresh white kicks and an even whiter tee. Some say I dress like a man; I say I dress like me
I have often been asked: why not just consider yourself a dude
Nobody would know the difference
And you wouldn’t get hassled or hear from people who are rude
I know the difference, I know who I am
I’m a transgender woman; one who dresses like a man
The only thing, I think we can do
So that we can all fly our freak flags
Is to make public bathrooms unisex and available to all
And if you didn’t want to share your bathroom with a freak like me
You’d have to wait and hold it till you get home
So you can take a private pee
Magic is the manifestation of dreaming and believing in yourself.
Magic is alive and living well,
work is required.
Start small, dream big –make magic.
Christmas in America is a felonious display of malicious capitalism,
and I love it every year.
I thought of myself as a ham sandwich,
when you never took me for more than PB and J.
Don’t languish in self-doubt, the sea of self-truth is vast, cavernous, deep.
There is a crevasse on the sea floor fit for us all. With effort, a comfortable crack awaits your arrival.
Get your kicks in before ole President Red, Blonde and Blue gets a hard on to pop off a firecracker that ends it all for us all.
Let go and get wet.
Saddle sores, liquor and whores
I wish I were a cowboy
the next best thing
is being me
no corpo gig, false face to present
Only words to write, guitar music to play
truth to live, no lies in my day
it’s good to be me, again I must say
Think Heart of Darkness with a fifteen-year-old, Robert Frost lovin’ Captain Willard.
Don’t know Joseph Conrad, Frost or Francis… This book may not be for you.
…And this time when she came, I wasn’t even in the room.
She came like the wind, she came holy.
Victor is a member of the disposed, once opulently well fed, royal family of Tuxsteininberg.
After his ousted, gilded family left his motherland,
leaving behind their silver serving dishes and baroque flatware,
penniless: he moved to America.
Today Victor dumpster dives for dinner.
He can’t get a green card.
Sustained by gluttonous consumer waste,
he’s never been better fed.
To Victor go the spoils.
Winner of the 2017
Elizabeth K. Tillerman Grand Novelist Award
in Young Adult – Contemporary Fiction!