"The man in the black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed.."

I went to Maine. Maine is almost like another country; really it is folks. A slice of land crooked in between the rest of America and Canada, Maine is indeed unique. Broken English is spoken, shooting menacing squirrels with a BB gun while sipping your morning coffee is optional (nobody in my family, humane society), while at the same time recent memory suggests that a hermit up the road used to keep a deer as a pet in his cabin. The traditional clock seems non-existent as days pass by without stress or strain. Our claim to fame is lobster, an enormous statue of Paul Bunyan, and the greatest fiction writer of modern times. Damn I love my home state.

Maine was fabulous. I read three books in four days, almost got sun poisoning for the second time this summer (who the hell said you were allowed to get sun poisoning in Maine?), I ate lobster, drank club soda by day and Pabst by night, and found out my youngest brother can now do more pushups than me. Father time is sniffing away at me. Or maybe that is me losing interest in the weight room. I also was brought back to my days of purity by my youngest cousin, who is more intellectual and cuter than I will ever be, at the age of seven.

On the way home from Maine I returned to an empty parking lot at Siena College and a automobile full of my possessions. Siena had kicked me out for good. My job started the next morning and I was to be thrown into the big leagues without a place to call home.

Full time employment does not wait for you to find a place called home. Full time employment does not wait for the two 1990's TVs to stop falling over at every stop sign or sharp turn in your car. I stock and sell rugs for a living people. I move 12 by 15 rugs from the loading dock to the floor for half the day and do my damn best to sell them to uncertain customers the rest of the day. What the customers don't know is I know even less than they do about rugs. Touche. Anyways work isn't so bad. One thing I've gathered from a full week on the job is that times are tough and I am lucky to have a job. Things are rough all over, and if moving rugs for half the day and pretending I am an expert on them for the other half is what I have to do to make some coin, I'll do it with half a smile on my face.

A whole week has passed since I was dropped off at Siena and I am still sleeping around Albany. Friends (maybe just acquaintances) take me in on a night by night basis. Over the past three weeks I have inhabited one bed, one futon, and illegally slept at Siena College on two separate occasions. My car remains packed to capacity with personal belongings. I have made enough room to see out of every mirror in the car, making it barely street legal. One week from today I will no longer be overstaying my welcome or committing misdemeanor crimes according to Siena. Either my own, or my roommates credit was approved by either the government, the FBI, or Area 151, and the cheapest two man apartment in the Capital Region is now ours.

I am catching up on some brief R and R these next two days. I will bet small amounts of money on horses tomorrow and pray that the nice car my mother has lent me will be fixed by a nice man named Bob. Bob gave it a sticker today that passed inspection, and then Cory stalled out on the busiest street in America. Cory's phone was almost dead and he was almost stranded in the most abandoned parking lot in America for the duration of the evening. For once in my life I praised AT@T for its durability, and cursed KFC for the worst "wait for a tow truck meal of my life". Bob seems like an honest mechanic and I have faith in him to fix the car that has most of my belongings in it.

Take care people, this has been a strange, yet educational and fulfilling summer. I am indeed almost grown up. I will only be bothering the few followers of this blog just once more this summer. My next blog will be my last for a while.

Check it out: The title of this blog has little to do with my life in transition and more with a novel that I read in Maine. Check out Stephen King's novel, The Gunslinger. A story of a Gunslinger (the last of his kind) and his unknown need to find The Dark Tower. And just a reminding memo to Stephen King's neighbors, "Don't worry ma'am, we ain't tourists, we're fans."

My own graduation and college in a nutshell

It happened a little later than it does for the majority of America's youth, but tonight, I unofficially graduated from college. There was no graduation music, no arena or civic center filled with family and friends. I didn't get a hat or tassel, there were no dinner plans for after the ceremony, and most importantly the only person that was honored was me. Call me selfish, different, or just flat out weird, but I'll take the emphatic hug in an empty room at Hudson Valley Community from my sign language teacher, followed by a spaghetti dinner and a couple celebratory Pabst Blue Ribbons any day of the week. I guess it's just the way I roll, blog world. Here is college in a short, but long nutshell.

Get to college earlier than everyone. I'm an athlete! Big stuff on campus boys and girls.

I realize quickly, girls like me better here than in high school. This is great and sucks at the same time. Great they notice me, sucks I have know idea how a woman's mind works, or my own for that matter.

Basketball season comes, and I become friends with everyone. Some of the older players take interest in me. They show me the way. There all still my friends today.

I play on ESPN and hit a three pointer. Everyone in my hometown texts me. Hard work pays off, right world?

We lose in the MAAC championship game my freshman year on national TV. I play but don't do too much significant. I watch two of my friends shed one or two afterwards. I watch a manager bawl his eyes out, and realize how big this monster is... I like it though, being a part of something bigger than you is good for the soul, right world?

Something bad happens that summer. It was awful and changed my life. I miss these people, I guess I thought about it more and more that summer and the year that followed. But still, once and a while something makes me think of these people. Sometimes it makes me sad, and sometimes these people help me smile and get through a tough day.

Sophomore year begins. I find a girl that is well worth trying to figure out and I try not to look back. I start some games as a Sophomore year. Don't always do great, but play hard every single game. No regrets in that regard world.

We go to the NCAA tournament. I'm nervous as hell but love it. I make a few under the radar plays and feel sweat on my back when the buzzer sounds and we celebrate a win. Hard work pays off right world?

I go to Italy. I have no expectations on my way into this trip. I stay out late some nights. Other nights I stay in with a good friend and enjoy scenery. This isn't really my cup of Joe, but there is something special about being somewhere foreign isn't there world?

I buy a rabbit on a groggy Sunday morning in the fall of my Junior year. I had never had a pet and I fall in love with her. My teammates make fun of me and my girlfriend is terrified of her, but she is special to me. Not usually my cup of tea, but college is supposedly built for change and experimentation, right world?

I begin questioning whether or not I want to pursue a career in professional basketball for the first time in my life. Basketball at the division one level is a job. I think of everything I've been fortunate enough to see and do because of basketball and press forward.

Shortly after my questioning my love of basketball, I get hit in the head; real damn hard. I bleed excessively, stumble around, get caught by a couple teammates, and get some staples in my head. I tell coach I'll be ready for the next practice; this has happened to me a few times. This blogger has had his fair share of cobwebs before. Little did I know my first true love was in a way, breaking up with me. Nobody said relationships would be easy, did they world?

It was a terrible breakup. Basketball tries to press charges against me. I won't give it up. I show up when it doesn't want me there and it tries to get a restraining order on me. Now I'm not only upset with basketball, frankly I'm mad at you world. The breakup is so bad I feel like throwing up during most days and migraine headaches follow. Breakups hurt don't they world?

Restraining order is now in effect and basketball says it doesn't want to see me the way we have seen each other for sixteen years ever again. Basketball says it is for my own health and well being permantly breaking up with me. I'm done being pissed off now. Basketball agrees to be just friends. Friends help us through tough times, so I accept. Good decision, don't you think world?

Basketball and I get along just fine again. Most of the pain is gone. Without basketball I see other things. I discover the power of pages filled with words. Some people read these words, some people like them, others do not. I discover Stephen King is fun, and even a little horror here and there is OK, especially when it is so well written, right world?

I say goodbye to a great coach and a friend. Someone who always looked out for me, simply because he believed in me. A new face is now at the helm at my old stomping grounds. He is a man who cares for me as well. It's nice when hard work pays off for people, isn't it world?

Now I am here tonight. Life is uncertain, a bit scary, but downright exciting. I'm one of the fortunate people on this planet to still stand with special people around him. Damn I'm lucky, aren't I world?

This time next week I will be sitting on a lake watching bats fly aimlessly in the nights sky. I will spend my days playing whiffle ball home run derby, burning my Irish skin, eating lobster, and sipping diet cokes. It will be my first and last run of carelessness this summer. The day I get home I start a job. Hopefully by that time my pending apartment will be a sure thing. Something inside me says it will be world.

"hey-oh, lets go"

Looks like my luck with playing the game of grownup is turning around little by little for the time being.

Big boy Magee is now officially employed. I won't go to work everyday and sit in a cubicle. I won't go to work every day in a lumber yard. I won't be payed to write (or maybe I will from time to time, we will talk about that soon) but I did stumble upon a job that will give me ample amount of hours along with a paycheck bigger than anything I have right now; which is of course nothing. I will also wear a purple shirt every single day to work. Us beggars can't be choosers now can we?

It is weird how things fall into our laps. At one point in the last month I was a phone call away from begging my dear mother to let me shack up at my parents house. Instead I marched on with the ever so tedious and frustrating adult life search.

I applied to ten places online. One of these places I decided to just stop by and see what they had going on. The supervisor saw me and saw me resume in hand. I filled out a application and interview one was finished in ten minutes. Interview two with the president of the company was set for three days later. With my great charm and famous scent I wooed the president into giving me a job. I also convinced him that giving me some time off to explore sports radio endeavors with the Siena men's basketball team come winter time was the right thing to do. We will see if he is singing the same tune come November.

With one job in another job is out. I worked a total of two days at Saratoga. I sweated so much that people looked at me like it may be a health problem. Three years ago I made cash there. Three years ago I was a waiter. Present time had me as a busser in a section that was struggling to breathe. To all the go getter's out there that stuck it out in Toga God Bless you. I hope you put your money in the bank and don't bet on the gray horses... They NEVER win.

In the process of applying for nearly every single job I came across on the Internet one struck gold with me. The ad read "HOT NEW FREE LANCE WRITER NEEDED TO WRITE SPORTS REVIEWS, MOVIE REVIEWS, AND BOOK REVIEWS." This ad was telling me it would pay me by the word to write for their online magazine. Immediately I applied and sent writing samples. I informed them that I was their guy and I was ready to sling words at them whenever they asked. I promptly received a email the following morning. They were intrigued. They then asked me a series of questions pertaining to how I would be able to reach gay and lesbian readers, and if I would be comfortable covering these kind of events. Apparently in my rapid fire method of applying for jobs I missed the fact that this was a gay and lesbian online magazine. I have yet to respond to the email that was sent to me a couple days ago, and I owe it to them to respond. I still am not sure what I will say. I love writing and would love to do it for money, even if it were chump change. But I also don't know if my writing has reached this kind of versatility yet. Maybe it is better if I leave that job up to someone who is more comfortable.

I am now one class away from saying goodbye to this place as a academic haven. I need a "C" in this class, and my friend the sign language teacher knows this. I got a 93 on a recent quiz and plan on hanging it up in my new apartment. Well, I hope it is my new apartment, my application is currently pending. Apparently things like credit and proof of salary are vital in the real world. Lets hope for the best, otherwise I will be crashing on a couch near you in just a few days.

I almost got all hot and bothered the other day while walking in Washington Park with my girlfriend. Two men who were clearly high on life on something other than natural air began trying to hold a conversation with us. We politely said hi and kept walking. Next thing I know a dirty and derogatory term was slurred out of one of the drunks mouth at my girlfriend. If it wasn't for head injuries and the possibility of concealed weapons I may have turned around for a good old fashioned mid day afternoon brawl in the park. As of this moment I am glad I decided to continue to walk away. My late grandfather who was a amateur boxer always stressed staying away from bare knuckled brawls. Setting this great piece of advice aside for a brief moment, I have been giving some serious thought to getting my own concealed weapon. A samurai sword seems to suit me just fine. Lets face it people, nobody messes around with a guy carrying around a sword.

Well the whole world isn't angry and corrupt. Over the past two days I have acquired seven Stephen King novels free of charge from two different sources. To the kind souls who still read this blog, take care and stay lucky.

Check it out: Inception