Talkin' Build-A-Bear Deconstruction Blues

Start your engines and set the controls for the heart of the sun...or at least prepare your low riders, and prepare to be dazzled with the christened origin of how I became the Mistletoe Angel you all know and love. Just try not to drive too fast, or use too much gas either, I hate to see someone pay $2.00 per gallon so this one is on me.

Before that magical February 2, 2000, when I first etched my quill upon the lucid white parchment, before the Rainbow Dancer emerged and cited my rainbow connection, before I got myself my beautiful Ovation acoustic, before I became a Serpahic Member upon these robin-egg blue pages, I was a lost spirit. You may not notice it, but I am currently in a massive stage of transformation, metamorphosis if you will, and the whole Tilt-A-Whirl joyride is exhilarating. I am seeing a whole bunch of new faces, exploring new horizons, my guitar has become my lover, and my voice is reaching for the sun, it's all dutch-door action.

Yes, before what I love to call the "Kaleidoscope Whistle" saga, there was one extraordinary man (I sure hope you're reading this, my friend) who reached his hand to me and got me immersed in the sonorous world of poetry and art...Philippe (Mozart) Ernewein. Take a bow, pass Go, collect $200.

Yes, this pony-tailed beatific bogart is my hero. My inspiration. My friend. Like The Lone Ranger, Prefontaine, and that DJ that smiled all throughout your high school party all put into that life-size teddy bear, customized deep in your inner Build-A-Bear workshop that first time you see his smile, with those friendly, beady eyes.



One day when I was feeling down and uninspired as many days, he told me his life story, written in the form of his incredible memoirs titled "Talkin' Tonto Deconstruction Blues", about how he grew up in Belgium, his father struggling of alcohol overdose and living only with his mom and siblings. He said he loved watching western gunslinger shows, especially The Lone Ranger. He said to his mom, "Mommy, are we really going to America to meet them? Are we? Are we? Are We?". And his mom promised him yes and when my teacher was 8, he moved to Virginia. Just like me, he got bullied by school kids, only because he could barely speak any English at all. He went to school on a very small school bus, he remembers, and also finally he learned English eventually and started to earn respect. Yet, he told me, he was still troubled. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. He was thinking "Who would ever thought I would make it this far, yet what is my grand incentive?" So when he got up to my age, he became a local disc jockey at a Richmond station, and that is actually the same time Dave Matthews was becoming popular in Virginia and touring with Hootie & The Blowfish all along the east coast. (As a matter of fact, you won't believe this, but Dave Matthews met him one fateful day and performed a few songs for my teacher in the backyard of his hometown including "Satellite" I am absolutely not kidding! They even asked him if he wanted to be a roadie, but he declined, saying he made up his mind and wanted to devote his life to college and teaching.

Finally, in inspiring him to start writing, my teacher, when he was 22, taught at a university in Louisiana. After a while, he said he got exhausted and wanted to find a place "far away from civilization". Someplace where he could dream peacefully, meditate, escape the pressures of obligation, the corundrum of expectation and routine, run over his dogma with karma. This place he went to was Chaco Canyon in New Mexico, a beautiful canyon which I actually visited with him two years ago, and there, he became a park ranger and eventually befriended all the Native American Indians there. They taught him how to make good dried bread there, displayed their traditional beliefs, and never feeling more free, he told me that moment changed his life forever and released him from the anxiety, the nervous energy. He then mentioned he searched diligently for the best schools and by Gods luck, he chose to devote his heart to Denver Academy and this is where we crossed paths.

Simply reading his memoirs and recognizing the pseudo nostalgia, the familiarity, has changed my life forever. Once he touched my heart, I wrote "An April Without Rain" about my tears. He said it was marvelous and told me I have to keep writing and let everyone know how I feel and replace the sadness with the beauty of life, which I have already soaked up much of, yay! That day was February 2, 2000 when I got my first poem out there. A little more than 10 months later would be when I first discovered Passions!

Of course I cut a long, artistic, colorful story short, so if you like to read the unabridged, uncensored, slick, sleek hardbound edition of this epic, visit your local library (At least it SHOULD be in there) or you can contact Mozart himself at pernewein@denveracademy.org

There, you will also see never-before-seen footage, from his college adventures in Louisiana to his action-packed dual with the arroyo. Maybe if we get lucky I can get the man in here and he can provide us with the Talkin' Tonto Deconstruction Blues Directors Cut! Kooky!

There are some other remarkable friends that have also driven me: Julie Doyle, Carrie Dunlap, Bill Petry, Carey Jones, Anne Laurie Twarogowski just to name a few of many. But I just want to acknowledge each of you wonderful friends individually in this journal so they'll just have to wait for the very, very, very near future! You know the proverb "Good things come to those who wait" and I am all about giving to my family. Yes, I am using the word "family" here, the proverbial use of "family" because I couldn't of got this far without you all. I never thought I'd make it this far, and there proves the whole notion of "Forsake thy inhibitions, pursue thy dreams". It is clear to me now...anything is possible, and I am going to embrace what may seem impossible. So let's hear it to everyone who gave me a hug, everyone who gave me a kiss on the cheek, everyone who gave me something to read, everyone who told me a good joke, everyone who made me cry, everyone who teased me, even those who had the nerve to pick on and intimidate me as a child. All is thankful, all is appreciated, all is forgiven, and all of you have transformed me into this Mistletoe Angel you see today!



Golly, it's getting late here (or shall I say early?). Barbara G. Harrison always said, "To sleep is an act of faith" so I better pay my tithes to the Sandman and make another bold pilgrimage to the Dreamweaver! Lights out, music on, and Elmo hugs and peace signs for all!

Love,
Noah Eaton