James Staskus
Bio
I am a non-traditional born-again Christian who is also a Jimmy Buffett Hippie Beach Bum!
Stories (11)
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Hippieland Vol. 3
"Stay groovy," I exclaim as I finish my timeslot at 12pm. I stand and step away from the DJ booth. Musicians filter in as I walk through the studio room. The common room is filling up with artists. Hippie's Hangout springs alive as it re-opens following the deep cleaning. I normally sit down in the common room and observe the atmosphere. People carry their tools of their art. Magic, our resident 12pm to 4pm DJ, walks through the room, nodding at me, towards the studio room. He spins a lot of soulful music. He's an African gentleman in his fifties who DJ'd in several countries for a couple of decades. Sometimes he plays fascinating tribal music. Magic's been with us for a few years now.
By James Staskusabout 5 hours ago in Fiction
Shaken, Not Stirred Musings
The sunset left a pink hue as the sky turns dark. Elves exit their caves to roam the night. Villagers retreat into their hovels. Soon stars shine brightly with the moonlight. Animals of the night come alive. Long periods of silence creep into the air between animalistic noises. Some villagers peek outside their window looking for any activity.
By James Staskus22 days ago in Fiction
Hippieland
Welcome to Hippieland! It's a beautiful day with the sun shining down on the island where Hippieland is located somewhere in the Caribbean. The town is coming alive following the amazing sunset. Music is starting to play across the island. The peace loving, drama free laid back, relaxed music loving, fun loving people of Hippieland begin to exit their beach houses and inland cottages. The town center complex opens it's doors while fellow hippies gather in the midst of the outside courtyard.
By James Staskusabout a month ago in Fiction
Another Side Of Musings
The temperature lowers. The leaves change. Birds start to fly away. The cooler weather clothes come out of storage. The fires are lit up. Doors are wide open. The air conditioner isn't needed. It's almost time for the kids to come around for candy. It's simply serene for those who love the Fall weather.
By James Staskusabout a month ago in Fiction
Keep Moving Forward
Keep Moving Forward By James Staskus "You are not alone!" One of the most powerful sayings for anyone going through a tough time. That saying can change lives and, even, save lives. There are people all around you that need to hear that. I should know, I am one of those people! Alcoholic's Anonymous is the first place I heard that saying back on November 22, 2007. That's the day I chose to no longer be an active alcoholic! The night before, I was at one of the points in my life. Hearing someone say, "you are not alone," helped save my life. This year, I reached seventeen years of sobriety from alcohol!
By James Staskus5 months ago in Motivation
Musings. Content Warning.
I fight death every night. I await, in the darkness, deaths presence. So far, I've been winning the battle though, at times, I wish death would win. The battles are like a expertly choreographed wrestling match. Back and fourth, the battle rages, fiercely, for hours as the night progresses. Am I stronger than death? I must be since I'm winning. I admit death is a mighty foe. Ultimately, over the years, it has turned into a war raging through the hours. Is the war winnable? I don't know.
By James Staskus6 months ago in Fiction
The Pirate: Music For Van
The Pirate: Music For Van By Hippie Beachbum November/December 2021: Key West, Florida Yo-ho-ho and slightly less rum nowadays! I'm becoming a little popular with locals and tourists from the music I'm playing. I've actually been asked to play at a few other bars during the day. I'm still loyal to The Rum Bar every night. I've been mixing some Buffett, Dylan, Willie, and other artists along with a few songs I ended up writing. Pissing In The Wind is my favorite original song, so far!
By James Staskus4 years ago in Fiction
The Pirate
The Pirate By Hippie Beachbum October 2021: Key West, Florida Yo-ho-ho and I lost count of how many bottles of rum! This dark, dingy bar, appropriately named the Rum Bar, has been my home for a while now. The owner and bartenders have taken a liking to me and we have become good friends. I'm surprised I haven't misbehaved, yet. I am, usually, kicked out of bars after a couple of long drinking days. I'm drinking away bad memories as usual.
By James Staskus4 years ago in Fiction
