
President George W. Bush is my favorite United States President of all time; with the exception of Theodore Roosevelt.
Regarding TR and Mr Bush; a summary of my historical perspective is to be found at /Hispano
I had intended to serve, and that belief was a cornerstone of who I was. Then, in 1994 I matriculated at Clemson and quickly became a disabled American due to a brain injury.
After a three semester experience from biology and into southern wildlife biology, forestry and silviculture; I worked for TF Buxton Ltd in Essex CT and Westerly RI near Newport.
Then I went to UMass where I an proud to say I swam a 55:05 5k pool freestyle for UMass Aquatics. Yet, I didn’t complete my bachelor of science in energy, natural resources and environment until 2004; after my 1998 diagnostic timeframe and my entry into Yale Psychiatry as a mental patient.
It’s difficult not to incriminate myself or implicate others regarding how I was chemically maimed. My family and upbringing, and the service of my father and grandfathers before me, in the seventh fleet, led me to delve into Asia post mortem. Through all those years after the invisible mortal wound to my right temporal lobe; I have maintained not one post mortem friend from Clemson or UMass. I forgive them all. They had no idea why I was suffering as they were having so much fun. It has been a 29 year excommunication from ordinary life while buried in sublimation, sedation, narcolepsy, and elevated to a place to stand by anti mania and anti depressant pharmaceuticals.
One day, in about 1997/1998 I decided to go visit my grandmother Virginia Flynn at her Goose Rocks beach house; past the water tower and Bradbury’s Market from the Bush residence that’s a ways away from the Wayfarer restaurant and “Port au Zeal” as the Booj used to call it.
I will attempt to be humorous. the truth is that around that time, as my brain damage was worsening; things were bizarre and difficult.
I had initially decided to drive up to Maine to see if I could find Booj’s leather physicians bag. But, I didn’t take a left and go over the old Kennebunkport drawbridge. Instead, I passed the gas station and the hotel that the secret service used to stay in when George Sr. was in town.
This of course was after the Clinton administration removed the heliport and left it an ecological wasteland full of containers just before the lobster pound and the curve down to Bradbury’s past the water tower.
So, amongst my delusions; I thought I saw a sniper in a bucket truck. There was a man by the hotel who looked like the Gipper; riding a green 1950’s bicycle. And, the elevated land across the ocean from Saint Mary’s, a beautiful chapel by the sea, for a moment looked like Mount Fuji to me. Yet, most bizarrely, for years I have believed that my favorite First Family(s) were there in their home and either that George met me at the guard shack where the SEALs were or that somehow or another I was seated there and was offered a chance to see the submarine port. It’s not often spoken of since Mr. Clinton made air travel from the Bush residence so much more difficult. Yet, I remember being in the basement and the long ramp that seems to slope forever downward and southward to beneath where there are often lobster boats and the painted trap buoys. It might have been that day that I was told about how serious lobstermen from “Port au Zeal” are about their pot trap colors.
So… also that day; I did not find my grandfather’s physician bag. Yet, I took my Uncle Gregory’s Bible, for long enough to read about the seventh Seal, and brought it back a few months later.
Greg is seen as a villain in the neighborhood. And, that’s something I need to talk about. Because, the other book I took from him was Anthony C Sutton’s “Wall Street and the Rise of Hitler”. It was a red hardcover and inscribed on the inside cover in Greg’s handwriting was “G. Matt Flynn”.
Greg is very ill like I am, and he has been home bound for well over a half century.
Thus; my gift from the Flynn family to the Bush family is summarized in three domain extensions for this website: PEYTORILL.com
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