Second Hand Renaissance

About the Book

Russell may very well be the last hippie, born on Earth Day, 1969, and growing up a rebellious, non-Conformist in a beat culture, he appreciated then, and Now with an artful conscience has found a way to pass it on. As in his “Grand Scale,” ‘The Poet…figures it out And repudiates his doctrine turning the wheel Casually Eternally, Man.’ This is A collection of poetry that’s electrifying and makes captivating reading. A spiritual awakening. Ken Geringer, Author of ‘Nobody Told Me: From Basement Band to Jack Douglas and the John Lennon Sessions.

About the Author

Jeff Wayne Russell was born in the small biker town of Sunland, CA, on the American West Coast. One evening, in 1994, he took to the road with a friend, driving his beloved 1987 supped- up twin cam black mid- engine Toyota MR2. A little TRD. They pro-ceeded on an adventure of an overnight 'shrimp run' with the goal being that of Pier 39, San Francisco Bay….Jeff even recalls doing the rules of the road, flashing his rising head- lights to let trucker’s pass. For he did have to slow down, doing 110 mph to 139 on the North-Bound Interstate Five two lanes. They left the ‘Grapevine’ behind, or so he thought for year or two. So to speak.

This trip occurred after Jeff’s uncle, Mr. Larry Robert Hall, had the misfortune of murder/suicide, as Jeff pen’s the crime, now, and for eternal memory. Mr. Hall was supervisor of the estimating department for a painting company; perhaps you’ve heard of them. One the largest in Southern California, Randall McAnally; out of Culver City. Jeff worked there when he was sixteen, as a painter’s driver and his cousin, Larry’s nephew; Ronald Lee Hall, Jr. also employed as expertise. This business stands to this day as one the largest to smallest skyscraper painting contractor companies. Before Larry Hall’s death, one of his final general personal business contractual agreements was with a major bank in Pasadena, CA. Jeff Wayne-Patrick Russell believes firmly that government operatives carried out his Uncle’s death. In addition, he’s not the only one. From the inside out. They will do ‘Anything.’ Damn Democrats.

Larry Robert Hall resided in Thousand Oaks, CA; Ventura County. Married himself for decades and with two daughters, also married; and he had grandchildren. In fact, he was a member of the Thousand Oaks Country Club, Ventura County: where he loved golf, friends/associates, and a few games of pool. His eldest, Debbie was married to Mr. Don Cutler there, owner of Power Mag. His second daughter Kathy married Jim Farrell, who still works as a high ranker at Boeing International. Larry had one major vice; gambling on professional basketball. Bookie style.

Then came Mr. President Bill Clinton’s tenure. And the Internet.

On a weekend, while visiting a bar- pub establishment, enjoying a good beer, an African- American man made gestures that offended Mr. Hall. Jeff believes it was a set- up. To set the example for many other gamblers, perhaps; and here is a question to be asked in another book by the author, did Mr. Bill Gates and then Vice President, Mr. Al Gore use pornography and other unethical means to fund his corporation(s) in the building of the World Wide Web and the numerous employees out of the Silicon Valley (i.e. inclusive, offices.) involved in a money making machine. One for every American room, wither in thee household or abroad.

Jeff Wayne-Patrick Russell is convinced that government law- enforcement (i.e. LAPD) uses ESP, Metaphysics, Physiological Psychology; even helicopter’s and atheists to command people(s), or individuals, (i.e., a form of mind- control, suggestive at least) all for the account of further investigation(s). And in this day and time, (as Jeff words it) “GTA- Generation Technology Age” exists for the government revenues through the Internet. Jeff does feel “Free Pornography” should be taxed. Then bum’s. He is positive many a man and woman paid the death price, or knock- off, to forward the advancement of this “New Age.” The World Wide Web.

The African-American man who was at one end of the bar, turned out to be a Secret Service Agent. Unfortunately, Larry Hall was perplexed enough to pull a knife on him. The bartender phoned the police. Larry was beaten by many police officers outside in an alley and arrested. To a pulp. The author, his nephew even attended the Ventura County Courthouse trial throughout the duration of both sides, which was a speedy process. The Secret Service Agent even testified. Here again, as this point was made earlier; Larry’s mind, the author believes was “betrayed” one morning during the wait of the Judge’s trial outcome. Just before his sentencing, (the case not by jury), Mr. Hall committed murder/suicide by ways of mean, the jumping in front of a Simi Valley Metro Link Train at Edinger Avenue railway tracks in Simi Valley. Three days after Mr. Larry Robert Hall’s death, his wife received at their home, a postal- letter of judgment; guilty and sentencing. Mr. Hall was granted probation, no prison time. Buy that one? Not even house arrest.

There was a very small article covering the death in the Los Angeles Times. Jeff’s father Richard John- Patrick Russell gave him the clipping. Richard died suddenly in the city of Monrovia CA, just before the first election of President George Walker Bush. “He was dropped,” as street- slang goes. At work in the real estate office of a certain brokerage firm, in the San Gabriel Valley, CA. His partner said he just went forehead facedown on his desk. That also and until this day, reminds Jeff of actor/real estate person, one John Ritter. Famous for the long running television show, “Three’s Company.” For Richard, the ambulance paramedics showed up, and quote, “laughed,” and stated, “you should of gave him an aspirin.” They DOA’d him at one of the main hospitals in Arcadia, CA. Jeff knows this was done to put him on the street, for Jeff was back to work for this real estate brokerage firm.

Jeff divorced in 1994, absolved the four-year marriage through Catholicism, and later moved to San Jose, CA, with an old girl- friend reunited in friendship. They lived separately, dating, with Jeff encouraged to write. He rented a room in the forest realm of Felton, with its hundred or more feet of red- woods and streams. To be frank here, he was only a mile or two from Santa Cruz, CA; made friends, and took drumming lessons. But poetry, influenced or not, it was and is always his. He can be a speed- reader from time to time and enjoys typing, but not before the mechanical pencil and ‘Spoken Word.’

When the “couple,” departed ways, maybe close to two years following their origin’s, Jeff heard and (i.e., saw with his 20-15 vision, a white laser-like fog flash, (ie., a U2 or a CHP patrol- craft) while driving south back to Los Angeles on Interstate Five, looking through the windshield, ears soaked inside the vehicle, a voice telling him he had “Sczhafrenia.” If that’s the way you spell it, he still doesn’t know currently. And Jeff replied aloud, “What the hell is…Ssscha-frena?” No answer. Terribly distracted in thought the rest of the two- and half drive back to Burbank, CA.

He knows President Bill Clinton set him up for medical- disability, for he had figured out his Uncle Larry Hall’s death while living in Northern California. Jeff now resides in Los Angeles County. And can’t spell “Sczhafrenia…”

The author of Second Hand Renaissance, ‘the last hippie of California arrt' still has many questions and answers to write of in forthcoming books.