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About Me

My name is Joey Lax-Salinas and a lifelong resident of NW Indiana. I love having a good time, going out, anything artsy, roadtrips, so much more! I've taken two cross country roadtrips, one of which was entirely by myself and love to go on vacation. I've worked with a number of celebrities, including Grammy Award Winners John Mellencamp and LeAnn Rimes, as well as country sensations Sara Evans, Rachel Proctor, and a few other celebrities as well. In 2003, I worked as a Production Assistant for the documentary "Trouble No More - The Making of a John Mellencamp Album," which went on to win an Emmy in September 2004.


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The Glowing, Luminescent Light
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I remember that hot afternoon in July. The local news stations had issued warnings and told us that we were experiencing a severe heat wave that was expected to continue through the next week. Water was temporarily limited and regulated, and only to be used for consumption and hygienic purposes. It was the type of heat that left you delirious out in the sun, causing you to say nonsense words out loud to yourself, followed by vomiting, and ultimately, heat stroke. Southern Indiana doesn’t typically see temperatures over one hundred degrees, let alone record shattering temperatures of one hundred and ten.

            We cooked out that afternoon, Tim and me. Tim, who stood a towering six feet six inches tall, had gone to high school with me back in Indiana and then attended college with me as well.

We were going into our senior year during that scorching summer, with dreams of graduation running through our minds as it slowly loomed around the corner. Tim flipped the burgers on the grill that afternoon while I stood along side, slicing onion slices for our extra thick, extra meaty burgers. And do I mean meaty! I remember their thickness because the meat was so round that after they were cooked, the top of the buns wouldn’t stay on the burger without ketchup or mustard, which worked as edible glue.

As I sliced through the last half of the onion, I saw the most peculiar thing out of the corner of my eye. I had seen Tim lay slices of cheese on top of two of the burgers, quickly moving his hand over the fiery grill so not to burn himself.

But it wasn’t what happened as he moved his hand over the grill; it was what happened after he pulled his hand back.

As Tim quickly pulled his hand back, I reached for the aluminum foil, which rested near the plate on which I was slicing the onion. As I reached to grab the box of foil, I saw a bright blue light reflect off of the wrinkled, papery, metal roll as it sat there on the table. Instinctively, I turned to find the light source. After seeing nothing, I tried to think of a light source that would generate such a light as the blue light that I saw reflected in the foil. After a few moments, I came to the conclusion that the sun was too bright for any other light source to penetrate through it, so I must have imagined it in my head.

The only other explanation was that it was a glowing luminance from something very nearby, leaving Tim and I as the prime sources. I quickly dismissed the entire thought and vision of the blue light after that, realizing that it was impossible for either of us to be able to give off any sort of light source. We’re not E.T. after all.

A word was never spoken about my vision. I didn’t mention it to him, saving myself from any chance of embarrassment.

            Tim’s face, which had earlier been so excited about cooking those thick, juicy hamburgers outside on the grill, had turned flush red as he stood still watching the hamburgers transform from a light pinkish color to a dark brown. Sweat ran down his temples and on to his cheek, creating miniature streams, all of them flowing in the same direction. “You take over…for a minute,” he said in two breaths, as if one breath couldn’t say it alone. Exhaustion gleamed from his eyes. He handed me the spatula and turned sluggishly to walk into his apartment.

            That was the last time I ever saw him.

            Exactly what happened that afternoon still isn’t completely clear; one could only contemplate theories. I continued to flip the burgers, although they were beginning to lose their savory juices. I kept thinking to myself that he would be out in a few seconds. He must have gone to get another plate for the burgers, that’s all. Or maybe he needed to wash the plate first and that must have been the hold up. What ever the hold up was, these burgers need to come off of the grill now.

I decided to walk inside of Tim’s apartment to grab a plate, recognizing that this would be the quickest solution rather than waiting for him to come back out. As I walked into the living room, I could see that Tim was in the bathroom. The door was closed and the bathroom light flooded through the bottom of the door.

  I heard or said nothing.

            I walked back outside, a spatula in one hand, a plate in the other. As I leaned over the grill to scoop the burgers on to my plate, I saw a glowing blue light through Tim’s apartment window coming from underneath his bathroom door.  The glow grew quickly until a blinding flash of light illuminated the entire inside of the apartment. Shortly after, the light faded out as quickly as it came.

            There I stood, motionless. I didn’t know what to think or how to react. I stared at the door, not knowing whether I was supposed to ignore it or investigate it. Of course, my curiosity always got the best of me, so I chose to investigate the mysterious luminance.

            As I walked into the apartment, I noticed the smell. It was a smell unlike no other, distinct from any fragrance or foul odor that I’ve ever smelt with my twenty-year-old olfactory system. I could only describe it as a combination of boiling vomit, burnt plastic and singed hair. As I made my way closer to the bathroom door, I noticed a very thin layer of smoke that slowly seeped from the bottom of the door.

            I heard or said nothing.

            I stood outside the door, silently listening for even the most remote sound that might come from inside the room. Nothing. I began to get both anxious and nervous, not knowing what to think and imagining what could have made that luminescent light or that foul smell. “Hey, Tim, are you cool in there?” I said with complete uncertainty. No answer. “I’m going to open the door if you don’t answer me!” I added, hoping for some sort of response or acknowledgement to my demand. Again, there was no answer.

I reached for the door handle, finding it to be cool, with a diminutive amount of condensation collecting on its metal surface. I turned the handle slowly, not knowing what I was about to see on the other side. Slowly, I pushed the door open, first seeing the thin layer of smoke hovering up high in the room, reflected by the window light. The foul stench was originating from the bathroom as well. As the door finished its swing open to the wall, the toilet came into my view. The toilet seat had been completely melted, turning the toilet into a molding of brown, tie-dyed plastic. Small amounts of ashes sat on what was left of the toilet seat, as well as on the floor surrounding the front half of the toilet, creating a semi-circle around the basin. Two large shoes sat parallel in front of the toilet and facing the door, as your feet would be if you were sitting properly on the toilet. In them were what appeared to be bone fragments, blackened and charred.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There were no windows in the bathroom, thinking for a moment that I had been fooled, while Tim hid somewhere, laughing at me with my perplexed reaction. The only apartment window was located next to the door and facing the front porch, where earlier we stood grilling our hamburgers. There was no escape throughout the entire apartment. After a moment of stupor, I bolted out of Tim’s apartment, tripping over dirty clothes that were scattered carelessly on the floor.

My apartment was right next door, convenient for the both of us. As I scrambled to look for my phone, I was overcome by a feeling unlike any other I had ever felt. Chills ran down my spine while goose bumps crept down my arms. As I reached for the phone, which was lying under a couple dirty shirts of my own, I remember only dialing the first number, nine, before I saw the blue light slowly begin to illuminate my apartment. By the time my pointer finger reached the one, my chills were taken over by a strange heat, which seemed to both scare and comfort me. As I attempted to push the last number on the phone, a bright flash of blue light lit up my room, burning the lens of my eyes.

I had tried to call for help, until suddenly, I heard and said nothing.

 

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jlaxsalinas@robertmorris.edu

Real Life @ RMU

Joey

Program: Hometown: Schererville, IN Campus:
New Dilemma On the Horizon...
joey fro1 joey2 hair joe joey_s_8th_grade_pictureedit

  I have always heard that the average person who lives an average life will try to make significant changes approximately seven times. Now, I don’t know how factual that information really is (actually, I cannot even recall where I heard it from), but with the dilemma that I am about to share with you, I do not feel that is the case. I’m a pretty random and spontaneous guy, so when it comes to life changes, I probably past that ‘seven times’ milestone when I was 10 years old. We all go through different styles of clothes, music, cars, jewelry, etc. at some point in our life. Some of us pass these items on to another person and watch what was once old become new again. Our styles and personal affects continue to move with us through time; we visit them through our photographs and memories or other indicators that remind us of who we once were and who we have now become.

                                        So my dilemma is this....

What is my next hair style going to be?

  Ok, ok...now I know some of you are sitting there at home, or your sitting in the computer lab, or at school and you're thinking, 'What???' Well, my hair has a long history and I will share just a bit of it for you...

Note: Some of the information that you are about to see and view is sensitive and has been recently declassified by yours truly. Only the people that have known me for years know and have seen my hair over the years.

 

  So I've gone through many hairstyles in my life, some good, some bad. I've had the bowl haircut, the messy spike, long hair, curly hair, the fro, highlighted hair, and even sported a mullet for a while in the 80s. To the right, I've left a few memorable hair moments for you to see. I have now grown my hair out for over three months and have transitioned from the messy spike look to...well, lets just say...a mess.

  I am pretty set on growing it out for a while, but I'm looking for some public input. So...for those of you who are sitting in the computer lab, office, school, home, wherever you may be, analyze the picture display that I have so graciously posted for your entertainment and drop me a line to let me know what you think.  jlaxsalinas@robertmorris.edu