VEDIC
ROCK
The Townee-Ruu
Narrative by Wolfgang Schuldtergiest
Chapter 0 THE JOURNEY
Transcending,,, without police protection…
In 1991, year of the un, I moved from the rocky mountains near the Teton Peaks next to Yellowstone Park where “old faithful” creates the beginniof the Missouri river. I moved to the end of that river, 3 states east, just nort of the large confluence, (where she meets the mighty Mississippi near
St. Louis) to a small rural town of about 10,000.
Fairfield Iowa, USA. Thomas Jefferson county.
I moved to Fairfield for the “silence” I experienced in Transcendental Meditation
taught at the local international university.
I moved to 4th st in Fairfield for the noise…
That’s right, the “noise”… a place where I could re-educate myself in the fine arts of writing, painting and music. You know, make a little noise.(Vedicrock.com) A big change from the three piece corporate world I had become used to…to find the perfect place near the tracks in an industrial area of Fairfield called “New Chicago”. It got it’s name when rumored Al Capone’s, train car stopped in when he was in double trouble, usually headed on to Ottumwa when he was only in trouble…. I think that stigma still exits in that part of town today.
Bad boy under-world liquor barren rat. Next to the tracks!!!
And when that train whistled by it shook my whole house… Any time 24 hrs a day and night. Now that’s some kind of “noise”… along with the gate coming down on the crossing ding… ding… ding… then opening to the rattling of the tires hitting the boards, down shifting trucks ba-ba-ba-ba on I-A (Iowa) # 1, right out my front door along with the Catholic school children screaming in the back along with church bells ringing dong-dong-dong all night long. It was the very most noisy place I had ever lived…
So…I named my studio “Art Loud” (Trascendental-Night-Life)
And den
dare was da “Den”. A bar
on the other side of the ally…
my next door neighbor to the north,
I really had no idea… but I couldn’t complain… Mike Fisher was a good neighbor and I was the one who moved to his neighborhood, New Chicago. I tolerated the constant boom-didy-boom base westerns on that jut box, but grew tired of the fights night after night
in the ally, a couple of toms and sometimes a kitty cat.. closing time
2 am – dong- dong the church bells would ring twice… they would yell a lot & sometimes end the fight with…
“you fucking ruuu”.
” At first I thought they were saying “Jew”. And again it happened “you fucking Jew” I could not imagine anyone being so politically incorrect… then I heard a school bus of children sireeeen-ing by (((juuuuuuuu))). I soon found out they were not saying “Jew” they were saying Ruuu??? Local slur for Gu(ruuuu)… directed at those (me) who attended Maharishi International University now (MUM) the once Parsons (party) College located in Fairfield Iowa. Teachings from an east Indian Guru “Maharishi Mahesh Yogi” who combined the Transcendental Meditation Program with conventional curricula… creating a university of Vedic Intellectuals proclaiming the dawning of an age of enlightenment… ushered in by a meditation technique that claims to expand consciousness and ignite kundalini to the point of levitation. At least it feels like it.
Does any of this anger you so far
I had to laugh, when they called me a ruuu.
In fact, I’m a “Townee-Ruuu”.
Townee’s are what we Ruuu’s call them in retaliation,
[us (and) them].. My grand father was born in Ida county Iowa so I have blood in the soil… so I am [from here (and) from there]… a proverbial oxymoron and besides everyone knows Idaho and Iowa are located in the same state…
At first I thought the fights were amusing, even my kids liked the action, sometime I would come home with a car full of 8 yr old girls with a couple of guys covered in blood punching and swearing in broad day light. I acted like we were in Disneyland on an E - ride. Pirates of the Caribbean or something. The stories I could tell.
Then one night “it” got even most weird…I was entertaining my 10 year old son Willy and his friend David in my pool room with the door open out to the side walk on 4th st (high way #1) when a guy from the bar next door ran by…with a another guy, a policeman, right behind him with his gun out. My son and his friend beat me to the door…. I was not into guns and kids…So I steered them the other way…to the parking lot at the laundry mat. I intentionally distracted the boys from the guns with a little football, yelling “hup 1, hup 2,
go go go.” And threw them the ball…
Worked like a charm.
When out of no where, a thin wiry man, wearing mainly whiskers was running right at us with a 3 Foot Machete… drawn, ready, over his head… His eyes were wild, his face looked capable of the irrational act he was pursuing. And the boys were in-between… me and him….with no more time…I instantly pulled Willy and David back behind me by their wrists, so they couldn’t hold mine…secure and in touch… I crouched with total focus…on to his wrists…holding that big knife…one chance…
As he was about to come down with his first blow
I instinctively yelled…. Bwaaaaaaaa!@@##$$%^
He wheeled back and gasp-ed, “Who’s making all that “noise”…”
I was of course. But, I said “at the Bar,,, the noise is coming from The Den…” and pointed, with out releasing my eyes…
Can’t forget the knife.
He in-modestly turned and started for the Den.
“I was a genius” averting the danger without an incident.
The mad man was now walking right toward the police-man
with the gun… Now this was going to be goooddd. Instant solution of the most violent experience of my life.
But then my crazed neighbor, seeing the peace officer, first!!
Belly flopped onto the concrete parking lot at “21st century (Hindu) book store and low crawled like an insect in-between smileys-restraunt and century 21, back into the white & yellow house next to the laundry mat…in his underwear.
Well you can imagine our enthusiasm as we all ran up to the policeman…all three of us talking at the same time “did you see that!!!”… Even I had a hard time believing what I saw, but I had much harder time believing what happened next!!!
This officer of the law, who I can pick out of a line up… would not do any thing about it…it was the damnest thing… I suspected later he knew this family and this gentleman with the knife had some personal problems…or something. And he didn’t want to bother his family on my account. At the time I didn’t comprehend the full extent of the (((ru))) slurr.
I told this officer “If we end up, all chopped up, into little bitty pieces like Betty’s husband (infamous murder case where abused wife goes free) …just remember he lives right there at 308 W. grimes… I see his mother riding her bike…she seems to be a very nice lady.
Think of the psyche damage to my children…
All I knew was I needed to put an end to the violence…in between the (den (and) me)…but only for the safety of my children... I didn't think I could count on the cops… So… I rigged up a microphone along with a fog light in the upper part of the window, where I lived on the second floor… and when a fight broke out!!!! Den, I would say “dis is God dd - dam it.. and you'd better behave.” Now “pay your child support.”
I also wrote some poetry on the wall for the fighters… it red…
“I realize there is far to much definition of crime…
but I refuse to be your cop…
be, your own Messiah”…
“den dare was light”
They yelled “you fucking Ru” some more, Den the fight would usually end in laughter…. At least on my part…I finely got some sleep… in between the church bells ringgit-inggg Again & again ((((every hour)))), dong dong dong 3:AM
4Am
5am
6am
then the air drills would start up on the tires at Smithburgs
d-d-d-ddddddddd along with Bob Bernard chain saw ART Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr and and the hard steal wheel grinding gerrrrrrrrrr Mr. Cains Grip on the praying hands, that now prays on the front lawn at Iowa’s states capital in Des Moises. Then another train raged by.
WWAAAAAA Waaaaa. Waaaaa
Chapter 1 Why did God kill the walnut tree?