Naked Window Exposed Revelations - book by Antonio Cassone

In his fourth published work, Antonio Cassone continues his memoir book series with 'seasons three and four.' The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations picks up right where it's predecessor Opening the Naked Window left off. This story continues the journey full of joy, love, pain and loss that goes with it and the storyteller reveals himself more so than ever before, with a bearing of the soul. The premise of "what if your life were a weekly television drama series" continues where chapters are episodes and installments in the continuing series are referred to as seasons. As you get deeper into the tale, you are taken through an intense world, where reality can be a bit stifling yet learned from nonetheless. This revealing character analysis and self-examination cascades boundaries of sexuality and race, leaving only one thing to come to mind: our humanity...

Available in both Paperback and Kindle Editions HERE

Happy Mother's Day (featuring an excerpt from my book 'The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations')

It has been awhile since I shared an excerpt from the books within my memoir series. For some reason, turning 40 this year is making me miss my Mom something fierce this mother's day. Sure we had our rifts, but with that being her holiday and my Dad's birthday having been on May 13th, we often celebrated the two events together - and one thing about my mother, she always tried her best to make holidays, special occasions and birthdays special. So, Mother's Day has always been full of wonderful memories. That is, after all, what I have of my folks. Not many photographs (long story), but memories galore.

Speaking of photographs...the one of 'a mother's day' rose was one I took yesterday afternoon. I first noticed this beautiful rose blooming yesterday morning, when I was out back on the phone with my friend, Pam, who is like a second mother to me, I took some photos then, just as the sun was rising...the light hitting it just right. Then I went on about my day, edited some videos, had a photo shoot and during our shoot it began to rain, then after he left it rained some more. By the time I decided to take a break, it had just stopped raining and I went outside and happened upon this rose again...fresh, after the rain. A beautiful sight...

The excerpt is from books/seasons three and four, The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations (released as a combo through Create Space, an Amazon Company - details below) - it is Episode/Chapter Two from the 'season'/book four Revelations portion...Enjoy a slice of my life story.

~

from The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations by Antonio Cassone; Revelations - Episode 2: Sweet Grandma Sharon

Then this sweetness my mother had, that was in her persona all her life I am sure - it just needed to be given a chance - seemed to trickle down to my friends and our neighbors. Anya always referred to her as Grandma Sharon. So did Pat's daughter, Theresa, and later in life Theresa's son would be spoiled with gifts Mom could hardly afford. My friends were suddenly not rushed off the phone if I was away at work or doing a show. Sometimes she knew of their life events before I did. Then there's the amazing sisterhood she formed with the women of her church group and the many young ladies she mentored late in her life at a shelter for abused teenage girls, who sought the mean streets of the inner city for whatever they needed to survive. These were facets of my mother that made me admire her more and more and it was a side my siblings either never got a chance or took a chance to see.

*

All of us were guilty of putting the weight of our problems on Mom's shoulders.

I felt so bad that I lost my mind one day with her, gained her respect despite having showed her hardly any in the process and was literally her right arm man in the last few years of her life. We became each others sounding boards, each others pal, each others 'Judy' in aggressively charming chatter that we proudly called conversations of love. She ended up being voted Mentor of the Year from that program that helped the teenagers by the very people she provided so much relief to. She ended up being voted in as Chairperson of her church group. Yet, in the eyes of my siblings, James and Anne especially - she was a stone cold bitch, damned for sins committed and repented on ages ago.

*

One day, I was going through one of my frustrated-I-couldn't-get-Keithen moods and had been running about a dozen errands between the bank job and my weekly show at Sam's Tiffany's Lounge when I got another nagging page from my mother, who ultimately only needed me to pick up yet another item at yet another store. Well, when I got out of the car to call her on a payphone, I locked the keys in my car. I was livid beyond repair and James was the only one available to come and call his insurance to come and unlock the car for me.

"She is such a [expletive deleted for this post] b*tch." I hollered at him with a borderline snarl.

I lost control and only fed into what his thought-process was of her. When I would catch Anne on the phone all I did was complain about my tireless running for Mom. Sean surely heard more than enough of my complaints about Mom, as well. So, I only fueled the lining of their arguments and sealed the alibi for their own constant placing of blame on Mom for their own mess. I was venting, but I only enhanced their already damaged relationships with her.

Then I would see her doing what she grew to do the best. Deep in prayer with a newly widowed friend from church, while I painted my face for the gods for that nights show. Writing numerous greeting cards with words of inspiration to either a girl she mentored or a client she sold beauty products to. My mother was priceless in that regard. I mean, when you ordered from her you not only got the items, but were met with a ton of samples and a greeting card to boot. I couldn't stay mad at her for long, but all my siblings heard was trash. I took the blame for my part in their views on her long ago and I learned to excuse them of some of their blaming her in time.

*

Mom would fret over any of us at any given time, especially as the years went by. Her deep sense of detachment from James and how he felt about her made her so sad sometimes. One day, she told me how hurt she was that she did him such harm to his spirit, more so than anything else. I would tell her to talk to him, to ask for his forgiveness. She would try to help him out when she could with either a phone call or a nice card, but I felt that their damaged relationship was beyond greeting cards and ten minute phone calls. She did try, though.

She would appreciate Sean for his stepping up to the plate to help me out. He eventually moved into the flat above us and he did lift the burden slightly off my shoulders. I was grateful because at least someone would be around her. She never ate properly, either by choice or because we were low on funds. If it were between a meal and her cigarettes, the cigarettes would surely win the battle.

Anne ended up committing yet another petty crime, which I am sure she had done before due to the complex demands of her habits. One time she got caught and ended up in jail. Mom was devastated. That really took a lot out of her, seeing one of us kids go to jail. It opened her eyes in a huge way. She got even more protective of her grandchildren. When Anne got out and was bouncing in and out of rehab, she got fiercer in her line of questioning towards my sister, which surely didn't help Anne's views of her from the past.

Anya was wonderful to my mother. She would have made the most excellent daughter-in-law for her if I could keep my lustful eyes off of men long enough to even take notice. Both women respected one another almost to a fault and Anya would come over to help her out. She shared with Anya that to her I was a lot like my father insofar as my taking care of her. My mother learned to look past my complaining and see that I was really compassionate to her constant health problems, growing lack of appetite, and worry for her family and need to show the world as much love as she could muster.

One night Maria called my mother with a life event and she consoled a tearful woman, who was surely on the brink of doing herself harm. Maria would always tell me what a wonderful soul my mother was and how that one conversation alone spoke volumes about her character. My mother talked to her like a sister, with the respect given to a dignitary. My mother saved a lot of desperate people near the end of her life.

*

I was still so in love, or so I thought with the idea of Keithen and I being in a relationship. Despite his booming relationship with the other man (that's how I viewed it), I still showered him with gifts and compliments, but none of it ever made an impression. My mind on him began to take away from my line of sight regarding my mother's health. She, like my father had before her, began to stop complaining. Instead she would share such things with her church sisters. She once told Irene that she felt like she was slowly "slipping." She shared with Genevieve that her energy was very low some days and she felt the need to sleep later and later. She told Mary that her body was "failing" her immensely.

There were signs to the drama that would soon unfold, but I had only two seasons - a fun autumn and a bittersweet winter - to share with my mother ...and I was none the wiser.

*

Sweet Grandma Sharon

The gentle hands knitting a blanket so soft to my skin

The firm grip of a respectful handshake or a loving hug

The beauty of the true love she felt for each one of her kin

The soft patter of her toe tapping to sweet music on kitchen's rug

The look in the eye making you her equal

No matter your age or life's position

She gave from her heart so deep and full

No matter your color or religion

She transcended what she dished out or served

By showing the way to so many she called her beloved

Challenging herself all the way down the road of life's crooked curve

By giving of her spirit to so many she had shown love

The hand on your shoulder complimenting a good deed

No matter your creed or sexual orientation

The sound of her giddy laughter that tugged one's heart with a squeeze

No matter your way of dress or conversation

The gentle hands comforting an ill loved one so soft to my skin

The firm grip of a pinch when a joke was told or a sweet hug

The beauty of genuine forgiveness she sought from her kin

The soft patter of her toe tapping to sweet music on kitchen's rug

-----------

The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations by Antonio Cassone is available for purchase through CreateSpace, an Amazon Company. Click here for more information.

Prepared Awareness (Excerpt 1 of 5 from "The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations")

My memoir series continued with a combo of books (seasons) 3 & 4 in The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations. Remember the premise: What if your life were a made-for-television drama series (or, in my case made-for-cable)? It is where the books are referred to as seasons and the chapters are episodes ...from my life story. Here I bring to you a passage from Season 3, Episode 1 Prepared Awareness.

~

So, one stormy Saturday afternoon the beginning of October that year, as I sat in Tiger's lavish apartment overlooking Grand Circus Park...I had a moment. It came crashing down on me quick and in fierce fashion. Tiger was cooking another fabulous meal in the kitchen and I was in the bedroom looking out the window, suddenly it dawned on me that my father was definitely going to die and very soon. I felt so childlike. I wanted so much to be a kid again.

As difficult as my childhood was, as much as I felt belittled and put into a petrified state on that yellow school bus and all the pent up sexuality and hands touching me when I didn't want them to and wanting to touch when I couldn't; in that instant I wished for it all again. Even though I really was ready, I didn't feel ready for that bitter truth. Sure, my mother would be somewhat okay financially. He made sure she would, but I would still have to be the one. Be the man of the house. Can you imagine how I felt in that one moment in time?

Crippled.

Devoid of any kind of wit.

I was so glad that Tiger didn't walk in on me and disturb the moment. True friends have a way of knowing when to give you your moment. Lord knows, my father had passed the baton of manhood to me years ago. It happened one spring morning when he was going through man-o-pause, as I like to call it. Oh, for days he was really giving Mom a hard time and even though, at first, it was from years of pent up frustration, but as much as my mother could have been a hindrance she was a blessing - especially to him.

They had a very strange and strong love for and with one another. It is a love that I have envied in my adult life - to be that into one another, at that level of intensity and it not be based on sex. It was purely spiritual and very emotional for both. They would laugh, cry, yell, cry and laugh during a fierce argument or an intensified conversation, but it always ended in laughter. My God, it was like watching a dance seeing the two of them. So, when things started to go in another direction for a bit when I was like sixteen, I didn't like it.

The fire had happened, so there was that added pressure and you already know my mother didn't work, so a lot of the financial burden rested on his lap. However, he enabled that behavior and my mother did keep our home together, paid all the bills, took care of his business, saw that his clothes were cleaned, cooked memorable meals. Sure, I was given a lot of tasks to do, but she made sure between the two of us he wasn't bothered by much of the house issues. And as time went on and she got out of her funk, she got better at being a wife and mother. That's the woman I wished my siblings would have witnessed coming into her own.

So, this one particular Sunday, we were all preparing dinner in the kitchen and my dad was getting a little out of hand with disrespectful comments to my mother and she'd fire back, but after while he just went on and on. I just sat there wanting to punch his lights out. Hey, she had her flaws, but he was talking about my mother! So, I asked him what his problem was. Well, he wasn't having any of that and before I knew it we were toe to toe in the kitchen ready to box. My mother was beside herself, trying to break us up. Honey, we ended up in the pantry and I wasn't giving in.

I told him I was too big to whip, so now what? He didn't need to talk to her like that when he helped to make her who she was. He needed to get over whatever uphill battle he felt the need to be battling at the time. I told him maybe pimpin' some prostitute might put his house in order, if he was thinking about steppin' out on Mom, "then do it and be done with it, but you better never let her find out about it." We were choking each other, practically wrestling - neither willing to let go.

"That's the problem, I can't...I won't do that." He said he had always been faithful to her. There was no physical release for him. There was no getting past her comments anymore and the romance just wasn't where it was before. Then we were just standing there in the pantry talking about their relationship like I was a sex therapist. My mother was disgusted and said she was disappointed in both of us.

"You, Tony, I can actually kind of understand, but you..." With one look she left the room and the wuss was back. He went right after her and they worked out whatever the hell that was about. I often wondered about my father trying to get with some younger chick. I mean this was right on the heels of Aunt Priscilla and her little discovery from hell, so it was on the subconscious at least. I just stood there bewildered and once I composed myself, I finished peeling the potatoes.

About an hour or so later, my Dad and I were on the front porch laughing and carrying on, comparing boxing scorecards. He said I was his son, indeed. He would stick up for his mother, too. He said he bet I thought he had lost his mind. I thought I had disrespected him. He told me, far from it - I gained his respect. See, where he came from it was almost commonplace to go a few rounds in the garage with Uncle Steve, who practically raised my dad and uncles after my grandfather had a crippling stroke and eventually died. Then we went on joking and talking about the Detroit Tiger's game. It was weird and delightful all at once and he was okay towards my mother after that.

So, fast forward to Tiger's bedroom October 1995, I stood there quietly crying to myself that my father would be gone soon and I would have to prepare myself for that fact. It's not like I didn't know. I mean he had been sick for such a long time, but it just came crashing down on me right then and there. What was I going to do? I certainly wouldn't be able to chase my theatrical dreams without his support. At the time, my mother was very supportive, but there was a little something holding her back. He, on the other hand, was all the way in my corner. He wanted me to fulfill things he only dreamt of doing on the stage. Too bad he wasn't able to share in the little success I was having at the time.

So, as time went on over the next week and a half I carried on. I watched my mother labor over taking care of him. When he was coherent he spoke gibberish most of the time and we would get a nervous laugh or two on his behalf. Her lady friends, Mary, Irene and Genevieve were all great sounding boards. My brother, Sean, started to come over more and more and that was good to see and good for me to have a sibling on my side. I went to work. I went to rehearsal. I even had a date with Blue. And I had a date with Ken.

They were great for the body and emotionally it was nice to just lay in bed with a man, any man and both did their best to provide a chest to lay my head upon.

Usually, sex with them was fast, hectic and raunchy to the hilt - which was fabulous, Mary, but then - at that time - they just provided much needed tenderness. It was very natural and not what I expected from either of my booty call, (expletive deleted for this post) buddies. They both told me I was much more to them than that. I had personality. I was deep. Intense. I told Blue I didn't need any more responsibility right then. He told me, as he caressed my shoulders ever so gently.

"Just go with it. Be prepared. Be aware and you will know what to do next. It will just come to you, man."

Like my mother said, help - whether financially or fundamentally - comes from the sources we least suspect and Blue's mere utterance helped me tremendously.

My eyes were wide open and I was seeing the forest for the trees for the very first time.

I was becoming...

_________________________________

The Naked Window: Exposed/Revelations 2-in-1 combo is available at Amazon CLICK HERE and other fine online retailers.

Faith: A Re-Discovery ...of Sorts

Mary Louise Fisher! Not to sound funny, but I will be with you in a moment - I am stuck in between tsunamis... Is it me or is God REALLY trying to tell us all something? Between tykes bringing guns to school, kids hiring their punk friends to kill mommy or the current murder-suicide we watch as we calmly eat our evening meal, not to forget the craziness, all these tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes... I feel like I am in the middle of Revelations... Holy ish! OW!

Some non-believers laugh at my dramatic notions, as of late. I am not stupid. Far from it. The rapid occurrences of these events, talks of 2012, swine flu, West Nile virus...it's all too much to bear. And you wonder why stupid cartoons and light comedies are constantly getting that number one slot at the box office. Holy cow! I even curl up and take in a Family Guy marathon every now and again. I'll even escape and irk my way through a Dancing with the Stars or as I prefer to call it - Dancing with the NON-Stars...ha!

Call it escape from my daily problems, ills, worries..., and I am fine with it being perceived that way. That's because I know, just outside my door could be some sick S.O.B. ready to snuff me out, or that slight pain in my stomach could be cancer or something. Oh...woe is me ...I am such a doomsayer. The town crier.

Ha!

Just look at the news.

I don't know about you, but I can't keep up anymore.

Wildfires, tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes...you know, they all have seemed to blur together. I still think they are speaking of the one three times back half the time anymore. Then there is the war in Iraq. The war in Afghanistan. Troops going here. Troops coming home. No...wait, now they gotta go back. Damn! And I think: are you kidding me? As I roll over in my hospital bed wondering with the holy name above what is wrong with me...NOW?

Yes.

Recently, (like this past weekend) I went to emergency due to an ever-growing fever, nausea, and a pain in my left lower abdomen that had been there ...oh, let's say for about six weeks - give or take a few days. Hell, I have been so busy, it could have been longer than that.

Diverticulitis... where my colon has become a character all his own. I may even name the poor thing. So, my colon and I are in the ER and the doctor runs more blood tests than I think he actually needs (I wonder about that sometimes), gets me a CT scan stat, X-rays and my medical bills pile up... I literally could hear the ca-ching, ca-ching in my head. Next thing I knew, I was being admitted. Had an IV filled with fun antibiotics, fabulous pain meds and goodness knows what else they pumped into me.

My colon enjoyed watching some television, as I fell fast asleep. When I first woke up, I was groggy. Being in a hospital for any length of time more than four hours begins to transform you. That is because you are in a world all it's own. It is like a city within a city. I had no laptop, basic cable, liquid diet, my IV pole and only the phone numbers I had committed to memory - or stuffed in my wallet (which really needs re-organizing). And honey, in this day and age of all things digital - you'd be surprised how many numbers I DIDN'T have committed to memory.

It really got me to thinking.

I watched mostly entertainment. I didn't need 'the news' to bring me down - although I love watching T.J. Holmes and Betty Nguyen on weekend mornings on CNN. Honey, if anybody could make you feel better about these trying times - it is them. Well, Anderson Cooper comes a close second, but when I watch his show I rarely have news on the mind. Anyway, I got to thinking about the state of affairs the world has found itself in - in correlation with my own weary, challenged, rundown body with it's infected colon, upper respiratory fits and starts and stress.

My doctor asked me about that. Stress. Funny little word. Every time he asked me that I actually not only laughed, but threw my head back and guffawed trailing off to a snicker and a slight yelp (from the abdominal pain). So, we talked about stress and the day's events, as the nurse stuck a thermometer in my ear and filled my veins with more pain meds ...ahhhhh, that was nice, give me more.... and my doctor told me the best advice.

He said, "Don't let 'it' get you...you have to get 'it' first...always!"

He went onto say it's okay to escape from reality, rest up, take a look around. He thought maybe I took on too many of the world's problems and that I didn't worry enough about my own - VERY true. So, I will try to not be so stressed out, despite the fact that we are in the "End" days...well, maybe.

Finally, while I was there, as a Catholic by faith - and since it was a Catholic run hospital I was in, the priest came to give me the Anointing of the Sick. I had this for my parents when they were in the hospital back in the day, but had never been on the receiving end of the sacrament myself. At first, I felt unworthy - after all, I wasn't dying, but this wasn't Last Rites either.

Not to get too 'religious,' for the record, I am more Christian than Catholic... For what it is worth, I am a 'believer.' I prefer to say a 'Jesus freak!' because He was so cool and I have a lot of faith in me. It is what keeps me going. So, as the priest prayed over me, I thought to myself - "Wow!" I was so glad to have received this blessing. It was small and simple in the physical sense, but mountainous in the global sense.

And just like my faith and prayers, I will just pray a little bit more; try a little bit harder to be a better person and take better care of myself and try to just beam more prayers out into the universe and hope that something good comes from all of it. And maybe put all this sickness, violence, wars, stress and these natural disasters into perspective.

I know that one day it will, and we will, all be better.

It is, after all, the foundation for which a lot of people's faith is built upon.

I just have to believe it has to be better than this - even if my colon has a different point of view about it.

_

to read up on the anointing I spoke of in this article, check out the link below.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anointing_of_the_Sick