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The Abridged Story of My Life - Part 1

So I've decided to write about my childhood. I don't consider it especially exciting, but I want to write it down before I forget it. If you want to read along, that would be ok too.

This is the first installment. Everything may not come in order, since I will probably remember stuff later that belong at the beginning.

Part 1

I will tell you about my earliest memory: it’s 1978, and being four, I didn’t know where babies came from. So when they brought my brother, Paul, home, I didn’t really know what to make of the whole situation. He was tiny and angry and red, and the crying bought him my parents fussing and paying all of their attention to him, and of course I resented it.

We lived in Ft. Bragg, North Carolina, my dad was in the Army, I don’t know what he did there. My parents were little more than kids themselves, and were living on a shoestring budget, my mom not working, and my dad on a private’s salary. At the time, though, I suppose we were happy enough. I have only vaguest recollections, and sometimes it’s hard to separate real memories from things my mom told me over the years.

I call my mother mama when I am talking to her, and even though it’s southern and funny sounding if you didn’t grow up here, it’s the only way I can think of her. Back then, she was young and fresh-faced, the product of a Boston-Catholic and Southern Baptist. Her Dad died not too many years before I was born, in Vietnam.

At some point, my Dad met a woman in the Army; her name was Charlene. She was a supply clerk I think, and I can remember a couple of visits when she would give me syrupy fruit in c-ration cans. Those were my favorite, so of course I liked her. My dad was cheating on my mom, and I can still remember crying when he was laying his clothes on the bed to pack them up and leave. He’s taking his uniforms out of the closet to pack them up, and there aren’t going to be anymore nights sitting in the living room watching TV. No more Hogan’s Heroes, no more Hawaii 5-0 and Doritos on the couch, my mom complaining that she hates the smell of Doritos, and can’t we eat something else?

Then he’s gone, there are not so many fights, anymore. My mom and Paul and I move back to Waycross, and drive around in our hatchback Chevy Nova. We sing at the top of our lungs to Linda Rondstadt and Gloria Gaynor. It’s then that I realize I have favorite songs. On a trip somewhere, and I am punching the channel presets on the radio. They make a big cha-chunk before there are digital tuners, and there's noise, and then it’s the next station. I love to push the buttons, and then there is the realization when I realize that I recognize a song and that I like it. Paul and I crawl all over the car, having no car seats then. We crawl into the back, into the front again, and into the trunk through the hatch back. We play and yell and sing, and I figure mama will be young and pretty forever, and it doesn’t matter that my dad isn’t there.

We spend a lot of time with my Grandmother, and she takes us to Sunday school at Crawford St. Baptist. I have a clip on tie, and Paul has a little navy blue blazer that we got from J.C. Penny. My grandmother bought it, and we dress up in our Sunday best and make arts and crafts, and the lady tells us about Jesus and how we should thank him before meals and before bed. We make more crafts, and learn about Noah and all the animals. There are puppet shows, but I am afraid of the puppets, so I try to stay in the back, but that won’t do. The lady who tells us that Jesus loves us pushes me to the front, where I know the puppets can reach me, and crying won’t do any good, because everybody knows your parents are divorced, and you need more religion than anybody. I want to run, but there’s nowhere to go, and anyway, I have to take care of Paul, so I stay and try not to wet my pants when the giant puppets look directly at me.

My dad is supposed to send us money to live on, but he drinks it away and we never see him. There are always fights when he comes to pick us up, although more often than not, he doesn’t show at all. He lives in Waycross too, now, on account of his less-than-honorable discharge from the Army. He and Charlene move back to Waycross, and they live a few miles away. We go to his house sometimes, and we do what we like, and get spankings when we come home, because we don’t want to mind, just having had our run of things for a weekend. My dad would pick us up late, and drop us off late, and my mama would fight with him when he got there, because she could smell the alcohol on his breath and he had been driving drunk again with us in the car.

He would protest his innocence, but my mom would have none of it. She knew what he was like, and he feeble attempts at explaining would do nothing but enrage my mother, who would scream like a banshee in the driveway of our grandmother’s house. We try to stay out of the middle, but it’s hard with warring parents who can’t stand to be around each other, especially when one of them cheated, and it’s his fault all this happened anyway.

Gradually, my dad stopped showing up at all, and my mom remarried, and we lived in a trailer. His name was Carl. Carl was a plumber.

More tomorrow.

Movies to See

Just watched Knockaround Guys. Boiler Room meets Goodfellas. Well worth a rental. Great casting, strong story, interesting twists. Vin Diesel plays the typical Vin Diesel role, Barry Pepper shines in a departure from his normal fare. Seth Green is a minor player, but likeable, and John Malkovich is just pure genius.

Oh, Dennis Hopper was in it too.

The other one I saw recently was The Wash, with Dr. Dre and Snoop Dog. If you laughed at Friday or Barbershop, put this one in your Netflix queue.

Great Music

Gentle readers, please join me on a journey filled with melodious tunes and wonderful musical stylings.

Actually, it's bagpipes. The band for which I am endevouring to play did a concert at UNF recently, and the sound guy recorded it for us. I have posted it to the website for the band, and thought I would link it. Check it out:

Jacksonville Pipes and Drums
(Just click on the New Music! link in the middle of the page.)

Song of the Moment

Currently listening to Sarah Mclachlan's Do What You Have to Do

What ravages of spirit
conjured this temptuous rage
created you a monster
broken by the rules of love
and fate has lead you through it
you do what you have to do
and fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do ...

and I have the sense to recognize that
I don't know how to let you go
every moment marked
with apparitions of your soul
I'm ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
but I have the sense to recognize

that I don't know how
to let you go
I don't know how
to let you go

a glowing ember
burning hot
burning slow
deep within I'm shaken by the violence
of existing for only you

I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
and I have sense to recognize but
I don't know how to let you go

The Truth About the Ladies

When you see a lady's mouth moving, pay attention, because there might be words coming out of it.

To the ladies, words are very important.

USB Drive

I decided I have a need for a USB Drive, so I bought this one.

It's aluminum, good sized, and cheap.

I hope it doesn't suck.

Tastes Like Burning!

Today I had a business meeting at lunch, so I ate lunch out at Firehouse Subs. They are generally the purveyors of tasty sub sammiches which I enjoy upon occasion, and they just opened a new one blocks from my house, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, I ate at a different Firehouse, and I ordered my favorite sub, the New York Steamer, which is great with some Datl hot sauce they have in bottles on the counter. It's hot, but sweet, and it's just right for the roast beef. So I usually grab a bottle and soak my sub in it. Like drown it, really, because it's not that hot, just really flavorful.

It wasn't the sweet sauce.

It was the hottest hot sauce I have ever eaten. Within moments of the first bite, my head was on fire. I ate the whole thing, becuase well, I wasn't going to waste a whole sammich, and because it wasn't that hot, really. Of course, a funny thing about hot sauce is that it gets hotter as you eat more. By the end of the sammich, it was all I could do to eat a bite without half a cup of fruit punch. I got Jason to try a little, and he put a small dallop on his sammich and wouldn't eat any more. Like me, he likes spicy food, but this sauce was insane.

They really should put a warning on those bottles. They were just blank generic ketchup bottles, so one has no way of knowing that one is about to undergo fire by trial...in the mouth.

It's 2 hours later, and many many beverages, and I am still feeling the burn.

New Song of the Day

4am - Our Lady Peace

I walked around my good intentions
and found that there were none.
I blamed my father for the wasted years, we hardly talked.
I never thought I would forget this hate,
then a phone call made me realise I'm wrong

And if I dont make it known that
I've loved you all along, just like sunny
days that
we all ignore because were all dumb and jaded;
and I hope to God I figure out whats wrong.

I walked around my room, not thinking - sinkin in this box.
I blame myself for being too much like somebody else.
I never thought I would just bend ths way,
then a phone call made me realise I'm wrong.

And if I dont make it known that
I've loved you all along, just like sunny
days that
we all ignore because were all dumb and jaded;
and I hope to God I figure out whats wrong.

Sidekick

Ok, so I just got a chance to play around with a friend's T-Mobile Sidekick. I had seen it in passing, but wow! The color one is supposed to be out this summer, and I am betting the black and white one will drop to near nothing.

Would be way cool for the business to be able to communicate in real time. I wouldn't then have to carry a phone and a PDA.

Most importantly, I could be like the boys over at Penny Arcade and blog from the road. Whee!

Lunch

I just finished my lunch, packed with care by me. I didn't put a note in my lunch like my mom never did, either.

I ate my leftovers from Carrabas, where we went for my birthday, which was yesterday, but that we celebrated on Saturday. They were yummy. Chicken Maria and Parmesan and garlic mashed potatoes.

Jamie and Beth got me So I Married an Axe Murderer, my favorite movie, on DVD. Xkot got me an autographed picture of Samwise Gamgee.

Both very cool.

Observation: The first amendment of the Constitution of the United States, which protects your right to free speech, applies to infringement upon that speech by representatives of the government, not by private individuals or organizations. I wish the morons who keep yelling "censorship" when a radio station drops the Dixie Chicks would take a moment to think. When ticket sales of the latest pabulum by Tim Robbins and that horrid Susan Sarandon person drop, realize that the first amendment doesn't protect your right to use private property to further your speech.

That is all.

It's my birthday...

...and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to;

You would cry too if you worked in a mind-numbingly boring soul crushing joke of a job where you are a nameless minion stripped of all individuality and creativity.

Good Riddance

Dick Brown, Dick Brown

Your salary went up, but the stock went down.

In a related note, $37,000,000 for a severance package? Holy crap. How can a CEO justify millions in raises for himself every year while the stock plummets through the floor, put a basic moritorium on raises for employees throughout the organization, and then leave with a $37 Million dollar parachute?

Do we live in bizarro world?

I wish

I wish I had a twin. I wouldn't care if it was it was an identical twin, even a fraternal twin sister would be cool. In fact, probably better for the hypothetical twin if they didn't look like me.

It would be cool to have somebody who had been through everything you had been through, who knew exactly what it was like. Someone to commiserate with, and to always have that kind of relationship where you could call them at four in the morning when you woke up in a drunk tank in Las Vegas with no pants (as a fictional for-instance.)

I guess it's a moot point, though, unless the Raelians really come a long way with their cloning technology. Maybe they can perfect it to the point where it costs say $590 to clone yourself. What if they could clone you a new body and transfer your conciousness? I want to go back to my 19 year old body, but keep everything in my head. I think that's a reasonable request.

Get to work, creepy cult people.

The Original Sleeper Cells

The next threat may not come from terrorists, robots, or killer clown dolls. It might be from bacteria that remain calm and collected until they decide they have enough of their brethren to launch an all out attack on us.

Who knew?

Via Wired

MONKEY HATE CLEAN!

Check out #11 in the results:

http://search.yahoo.com/bin/search?p=monkey+hate+clean

Xkot is dicussing the feared palmetto bug with my other pal Matt.

Via KD.

So far...

...I am neither shocked nor awed.

I'm just saying.

UPDATE

Ok, now I am both shocked and awed. Especially at the 1.5 million dollars each one of those cruise missles costs.

Holy shit!

I was 15...

...we had a pool. It was the summer, and school had been out for weeks. Running all over tarnation left me in pretty good shape, my hair was matted from days in the chlorine and I was tanned.

I remember floating, and it was quiet except for the crickets and frogs. I couldn't see a cloud in the sky, and like all summer nights in florida, it was hot enough to sweat even in the water.

It was the last time in my life I didn't have any responsiblities. No job yet, no car, no insurance, no girlfriend, no school (at least for a while.) No money, no bills, no schedule.

Looking back, it was like standing on the edge of a stage, waiting for my part to come, there was a palpable tension in the air. You don't understand what's on the way, and you want to be older than you are, and you want to drive and to be grown up and what you think is free, but it's not what you think it's going to be, and nobody can tell you anything.

If I could go back right now and stay in that summer forever, that's my heaven. It was my endless summer, and when I think about it now, it's the last time I was really and truly happy without anything to worry about.

It was the last time I was carefree, and it was the last time I felt like everything was right in the world.

Cool Mint

I am addicted to these little plastic-looking breath mint strips. They combine high tech construction with the power of Altoids. Good stuff.

Watched the Children of Dune mini-series, intended to watch the first one, and then the next two on subsequent nights, but the movies were good enough to keep me watching till the wee hours. Plus, I could fast foward through the commercials, thanks to the wonder of PVR (Personal Video Recording.)

Febreze is magic. My office was smelling a bit stinky, I think there is a leak in the roof somewhere, so I sprayed it all over the floor. Freshness ensued.

Song Lyrics of the Day:

I Will Not Take These Things for Granted - Toad the Wet Sprocket (Who is on tour, btw.)

one part of me just wants to tell you everything
one part just needs the quiet
and if i'm lonely here, i'm lonely here
and on the telephone
you offer reassurance

i will not take these things for granted

how can i hold the part of me that only you can carry
it needs a strength i haven't found
but if it's frightening, i'll bear the cold
and on the telephone
you offer warm asylum

i'm listening
flowers in the garden
laughter in the hall
children in the park
i will not take these things for granted
anymore

to crawl inside the wire and feel something near me
to feel this accepting
that it is lonely here, but not alone
and on the telephone
you offer visions dancing

i'm listening
music in the bedroom
laughter in the hall
dive into the ocean
singing by the fire
running through the forest
and standing in the wind
in rolling canyons

i will not take these things for granted

My elbow hurts.

I hurt my left elbow. Today at the gym, it was fine until I stopped lifting whatever weight I was doing. Weird.

I just popped three Aleve, it usually does the trick. Jason and I are starting a new workout to increase bench, among other things. My one rep max is a pathetic 275 now, if the program works the way it claims it will, I will be able to add 50lbs to that. 325 is a definite improvement. Of course, it's increasing my gym days to 4 a week instead of 3, and I really should be doing more cardio, so I might as well start going every day.

Had some chicken wings from Happy Garden for lunch today. Who would have though that the tastiest wings in the whole world would come from an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet restraunt on University?

From now on, I am taking my lunch to work, though. Between us, Stephenie and I spend more than $500 a month on LUNCH. Am I living in some kind of bizarro world? How in the hell did this happen?! $12.50 a day x 2 people = $25 a day x 20 days = $500. That's how.

It hit me today. That's half my mortgage, for the love of all that's good in the universe.

Well, it's balogna and ham sammiches from now on.

In which I explore the fundimental meaning of life

No, I don't really have any answers.

Been on a bit of an up mood of late. Don't know why. I've been getting some good relationship advice from the last place I would expect it. I haven't exactly been utilizing the advice yet, but I suspect it's spot on in it's diagnosis.

Saw a story that said being married doesn't make a person happy. Well, duh. Where can I get a job researching this crap? One flash of wisdom from the study: a happy person is happy married or single. Makes me wonder if just being happy can make a person happier. I know that's a nonsensical sentence, but maybe if you make yourself happier, your easier to be around, and thus the people around you are happy, which cuts down on the relational friction, which adds to one's happiness, and so on and so forth.

I am sick to death of politics, religion, and the war. If I never have to hear another argument about them again, that would be a plus. That's becoming increasingly unlikely, however. On an upnote, the Dow was up 280 points based on the news (I guess) that we are no longer waiting for UN approval.

I need a vacation in the worst way.

My left foot

I have a shoe on my left foot that is falling apart. So now I am contemplating buying a new pair, but part of me wants to go buy some Shoe Goo because this pair is comfortable, and quite frankly, who wants to go spend $100 on shoes?

You know, I was just at a national retail chain last night, and I could've purchased said Goo, but I forget that the shoe has a problem until I catch the part of the sole that has come lose on the edge of my chair roller or something. By then, I've already left the store, and it's too late.

Oh! Whilst leaving the store, I saw from a distance an attempted purse snatching. It happened across the parking lot, and it was really too far away for me to have gotten involved even if I had desired to do so, but my first instinct was too immediately push Liam into the truck. It's an interesting feeling, reverting to the instinctual need to protect one's progeny. The old lady was feisty, tho, and the bad guy ended up with nothing but a group of people on the phone to the 5-0 with his tag number. I hope they catch the scumbag.

My favorite movie is So I Married An Axe Murderer. I was just talking about it with my new friend when he was suddenly called away. At least I think he was. Perhaps he was actually kidnapped by the French, who were intercepting our IM's, and hauled away, and the kidnappers just told me that he had to go clean something. Perhaps they are even on the way here.

Today I ate at Hooters, and I orders wings, breaded, hot. I got wings, breaded. There didn't appear to be any actual wing sauce on them, and when I brought it up, she argued with me. "Oh, there's sauce on them."

I was telling someone else this story, and they opined that perhaps when you visit a hooters, you get brains or boobs, not both. That's a pretty accurate summation, I'd say.

Bike Week

On the way home today I saw a dead man.

The state trooper was there, and I could see the dead man's riding buddy on the cell phone; it made me wonder who he was talking to, and what they must be going through at that moment. I had a 15 second glipse into an event that just changed one man's life, and ended another's.

He had on tennis shoes and jeans, and the trooper had covered him with a white sheet, but his feet stuck out. He was tall. It was almost worse having the white sheet, it was so clean and stuck out on a day like today, when it's rainy and foggy and just sort of gray.

I could see his left hand. He was wearing a glove with no fingers. It just looked normal. I wondered what the rest of him looked like. He wasn't really that far from his Harley, it was on it's side on the shoulder. Honestly, it didn't look like a violent accident, without the sheet, I would have expected him to get up and try and pick up the bike.

I wonder if he had a wife and a family. I bet he'd looked forward to this trip to Daytona all year. Even when the weather turned, he and his buddy decided to come down anyway. If they hadn't been at that exact spot at that moment, they'd almost be there now.

I wonder if he had children that haven't been told yet.

I wonder if he ever thought this could happen.

I wonder what his last thought was.

More New Music

So a while ago, I saw a new video by Nickel Creek, and was impressed enough to go and buy the CD, This Side.

In particular, there is a single, Speak, that kicks ass.

I love the sound, and when I got the CD, I understood why. It's produced by Alison Krauss. I didn't know she was producing other bands. Very cool. So now in addition to the Union Station and Allison Krauss and Union Station CDs, I am trying to find out what other projects she's been involved with to listen to them as well.

Went to the Home and Patio show on Saturday, it was CRAZY. I wish I had taken my camera, to give you an idea of the scope of this thing. It filled the entire Convention Center, they built entire gardens inside just to tear them back down. I can't imagine how much money was spent by the exhibitors.

There are is at least one item I will be purchasing, based on what I saw at the show. It's the Mow-bot. It's cheaper than a riding lawnmower, and you don't have to actually do the mowing. Very swank.