Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

Daydreams to cope with sometimes take on lives of their own....

al·le·go·ryˈ (aləˌgôrē) noun

plural noun: allegories

   "A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one."

   “An Allegory is a form of extended metaphor in which objects, persons and actions in a narrative, are equated with meanings that lie outside the narrative itself.

The underlining meaning has moral, social, religious or political significance of abstract ideas as charity, greed and envy.

Thus an allegory is a story with two meanings, a literal meaning and a symbolic meaning.”

   Yes, I looked it the f*ck up and with that you know what is needed to be known to understand what the Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall book series is about.

  Oh I should add that the censor is pretty much off most of the time. PG this story is not. PG13 neither. R yes; but beyond that?

Shhh....

Now some background info on the place ”The R*tards" go to play.

(Pauley’s term of endearment for his patrons that don’t act their age, especially when sh*tfaced.

Think about what "r*tarded" means, then how it's used in every day language to be an insulting description.

Just like calling a child a "b*stard", some words should be questioned as too f*cked up to use like they're whatever.

"Wh***" is another one with an edge, and yes these words among others will be questioned, but you as readers decide the fate of these words as they apply to your personal vocabularies.)

   Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall is a sort of 'speak-easy' name for The Iron Horseshoe Tavern established back in 1974 by Paul "Pauley" Kelly.

It’s called this to keep what are now known as 'hipster' invaders away, and its whereabouts only known by word of mouth.

Is it elitist?

Perhaps.

Or it is about self preservation and preventing as long as possible, their haven from being taken over by those that do not honor tradition, nor would uphold Pauley's Code of Conduct.

  New folks are welcome, as long as they can respect the School House Rules and don't complain when Lucy gets unplugged; otherwise foos are getting their a*ses expelled!

   Over the years The Tavern has become a home away from home club house for old timers and mostly blue collar roughneck man children with its latest motley generation currently in their 30’s, give or take.

Some married with children or divorced with visitation on the weekends.

They have bills to pay, money to save, jobs to not f*ck up in order to do both.

Occasionally these a*sholes may brawl and Pauley’s shotgun Grace taken out to dance, with Jukebox Lucy playing the soundtrack; but overall the place is mellow on a weekday afternoon.

   The crowd that made The Tavern its watering hole is loyal and there is a sense of kinship between the boozer drunks.

Stories this tavern has no lack of thanks to the antics of the patrons, which also include my own.

   I wrote myself in as a character using my real name because all this stemmed from a daydream I had, to keep me company while I went for long walks with detours, in my new town of residence;

Boyle Heights, California.

   Though home for me will always be my beloved

East Los Angeles, Califas

   One day I thought of a man that didn’t exist to help me move on and let go of the past, by focusing on the existing hope of the present and lessons learned.

  Perhaps it was my way to prepare myself mentally for the future because I don't have much to my name other than my imagination.

 “Mikey, Jacob, Bobby, Joe, Paul, Davey, Alex, Dennis and Lou”

   Names of made up men that are a close knit pack of pals I will never forget.

They all represent an aspect of the men I have known, both in the good and bad; but they are human, even if fictional.

They are part of the details to the symposium full of zanies.

   This story experiment at times is a sort of open love letter to men that have shown their integrity even as they also try to get things right.

These men are strong but also weak.

Happy but still stressed.

Hopeful but discouraged at times with what they feel is out of their control.

It’s a mix we all endure, but with them; I feel how unequal men still are when it comes to expressing their feelings on it all.

How do I know?

I'm a daughter of one that expressed them regardless.

   The women in this saga also are shown going through their own life roller coasters and attaining their triumphs for they too are strong and capable.

It’s just with them, the way their stories are told is different.

How different?

The goal is to show we could use a little bit of understanding from the fellas.

With their stories, I hope to tell men that not all of us are their enemies or psychos, that more often than not, there was an issue with communicating and emotions go on edge.

We can be worthy of trusting and also respecting.

I hope to tell, we can have our bad days too, even if our hairstyles look nice; and we don't always know what the f*ck we're doing either.

We do know we could be wrong also.

No really.

Women are capable of knowing they can be wrong. Getting us to admit it, now that's something else.

*cough*

I want to show the men I was able to reach through to, women can be their friends as well, and shoulder part of the old burdens that say a man must bare these alone.

Even as women, we can relate and be more than arm candy hood ornaments, "Honey can you bring me a beer?".

  But this is to reassure the males that are willing to read, they'll have a place in what is usually considered female terrain.

  Yes this is a quirky soap opera Spanglish novela, for a subculture of those that bought in to what a friend called:

"The Rockabilly Retirement Plan for Punks, Skins and Goths".

And what was surprising, the guys did get in to it as much as the gals. I mean, how can I write an open love letter to men, if I don't include what matters to and interests them?

  From the serious like Erectile Dysfunction or even the car not starting and being already late for work.

To the "Are you f*cking serious!?!" and the latter said in two manners.

One with enthusiastic glee like they scored, and the other in BOHICA despair.

Espeakin' of which....

This is a bedtime story dedicated most of all to Our Troops and 'Docs' green side or civilian; for I do know the power of a reality break, if not reading oneself asleep.

And this because I want to "Play It Forward" and yes I do mean play.

  The man I would spend countless silent moments, wondering about his happiness and safety; he was the life lesson I needed to get me out of a bad place; even as I felt helpless knowing which bad place he was headed back to.

This Army Coptor Doctor ridding one of Anansi's spiderweb threads, tied to the foot of a Dragonfly Dustoff back in Stan; reminded me why being able to control your focus, makes dealing with difficult things, easier to cope with.

The chaos will still be there, it's how you allow it to affect you, that makes a very important difference.

You either learn how to hold on and fight or you don't. That "don't" had been my concern for him.

There was a reason his story began to stand out to me.

"Yet for me that also came from the desert, compassion I also knew how to show...."

  Eyes like his and lack of smile, you don't forget.

He had the face of many that aren't returning all that well; but his face comforted me when it would look silly; but haunted when it was a stoic with unintended, resigned grace.

  So this allegory that aims to be a cult classic, does have its soul, as that odd daydream of mine, found a life of its own.

And it became a Shoretale Fable of Therapy in Motion and thinking up the answers that become the solutions.

It's all just rhyming for the reasons, that carry us through the seasons of change.

Suggestion: Look up Grandiose, Ostentatious, Pretentious, Narcissistic, Delusional, Self Absorbed Motor Mouth, but most of all Ironic Catharsis. Thank you.

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Copyright ©2017 Rev. Mother L. G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Lagrimas Y Sangre"

Press Play For The Creepshow "Take My Hand" For The Soundtrack

"Capt. Cass of The Bullsh*t Brigade"

The Dreaded Ex-Military Wife from East L.A.

  I've had some alter egos throughout my years, and some survived to ride out the mental storm that almost sunk me. I know the skipper needs to go down with the ship, but not with the cargo I got on board! There's a bunch of friends that found passage out of the doldrums, in to the quirky entertainment my Bipolar Disorder can make for somethin' else.

  So this 'Pirate Captain' persona, what is 'she' about? 

  Well it's a mix of being a 'Goonie' and also "Captain Jack Sparrow". I have two sparrows tattooed on my chest. It's childlike make believe, with some adult seriousness. It involved my three youngest kids (You don't breakup with step kids!), and it's been a very long, heart wrenching time apart. 

  I'm also in this persona because I'm on a mission to tax back my time and money from former arrangements that left me with the sh*tty end of the stick. I'm not the only one from my friends that have felt ripped off by empty promises of others offering change and catering. Well I am about changing the negative and who I cater to are other 'Pauley's Regulars' that like where I'm going with my writing.

  But the true inspiration came after I got called a "Pirate Hooker" or "P*ta Pirata", by my son's father and his friends that found that funny. What he forgot was my old Jr. High School Robert Louis Stevenson mascot was a Pirate and our school colors were red and black; same as a black widow.

  It's silliness at times when I do my "Capt. Cass...." act, and at others you can tell I'm from the barrio of East Los. Though I didn't need to be from any gang to know the feeling in the pit of my gut, at times I have to remind myself to be the enlightened one, over the one that wants to make the babbydaddies walk the plank in to shark infested waters.

  But where did the name "Cass" come from?

  It was shortened from "Cassi" that was shortened from "Cassiel Armory", my old handle from LAGoth.net message board for Los Angeles. This after my 23rd birthday got celebrated, where at midnight, I got covered in chocolate pudding on stage by all the single bachelors at the club. Next day, friend created an animated avatar of me, covered in chocolate dancing, calling me "Chocolicious Cassi". And the name stuck to the point my ex-hub's family didn't know my real name. 

Sometimes it's good to have an alias, and at other times it's bad; like when abuse is suspected, and the ex's name had to be used to track me down.

****Thank You God, Sweet Holy Mother and Heaven for helping!****

Press Play To Listen To The Quakes "Seven Seas Alone" For The Soundtrack

  But "Cassiel Armory" as a goth handle?

  Cassiel is the Archangel of 'Solitude and Tears' which for my depression and other hardships, it fit. "Armory" comes from a "Batman Beyond" cartoon character. He was a weapon developer that had to take an under the table job under threat, to steal from a different corporation a weapon, and the new "Batman" caught on, and they had to fight.

"Batman" comes to find out the one man 'armory' is a father trying to support the comfortable lifestyle of his family that could have been more humble in their tastes. "Armory" wasn't a bad guy, just desperate and as I took it, he was an anti-hero that I've felt like before.

  The G.I.'s I befriended took me in with teaching me more about what it means to be male in the service, and also how to not flinch, especially with POS's. They were good men and I hope all survived their deployments to the Sandboxes of Afghanistan and Iraq. I also talked with Sailors and Airmen, even Coasties. But Army and Marine Grunts were the ones that were the most uneasy that called me to be their therapist.

  Listening to their stories that weren't about glory and courage under fire, they spoke of the double standards with the females, and also officers. I did make friends with females and officers as well, but whichever gender, branch or rank, I met good people that I related with depression and having trauma get in the way.

  Before I knew it, I began to tell them my "shore tales" that were like "sea stories", but land locked. They would tell me to write it all down and were touched I wanted to include their legends, besides their truths that war should end, but to fight is to defend. It was a paradox and a 'Catch 22', but I cared for them with my bleeding heart. It was the natural thing to do.

  How this applies to anything "billy" was because rockabilly takes from military their tattoos like swallows, nautical stars and "homeward bound." Even "Veteranos" from East LA you can see with the old ones, how they dress had hints of old uniforms turned in to civilian fashion. The web belt with slider buckle is the biggest proof of that, next to sharp creases on their trou. They were the Latino War Veterans from WWII-Vietnam.

  Getting ' shanghaied' with a broken promise to help me get my daughter back, put me in the middle of the home front. I learned about a reality that the liberals from Los Angeles didn't want to hear about. I did end up missing living in a military town, but home for me is East LA. So in East LA I write and speak in parable, getting lost in my own translations.

  I would say the personal heartache beyond what's going on with my kids that include my stepson, is romance based. I went "Madre" in part out of grief and I feel like my heart had been tattooed with their name and face.

The pretty poison with side burns and a pomp. Manipulation threats made me force a goodbye I didn't want. So that's part of why I'm fighting back to tax all my pain by restitution through my imagination. It wasn't right or fair. I deserved to move on too, and Pillbutt controlled that as well.

  That's some background on how I got named, except for the "Bullsh*t Brigade" part. The short version is....

  Exactly.

   "So 'Cassiel Armory', like 'Slick Sleeves Flores', got out alive and began her journey to thrive. She knows how to jive and create the lines, to color within and out. Without any doubts, this little girl grew up in to a woman that knows what she's about. To the highs and lows, ebb and flow, 'Cassi' is not a victim anymore."

Age 24yrs in black widow pirate colors, hamming it up prior to Club Wake, promoted by Veronika Sorrow (2002).

I recall the e-chums I had then and how uneasy the Sandbox Wars were making everyone. I didn't intend to get shanghaied in 2005, to get a deep in the home front, and learn about a part of America Los Angeles liberals didn't want to meet, with their prejudices.

I did meet my fellow American during wartime.

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Copyright ©2018 By Rev. Mother L.G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Sangre y Lagrimas"