That word is kind of funny. Smmmmmmeeeeeeeelllllllll. When someone asks you to smell something, there is always that hesitation-is it a good or bad smell? I love good smells. They are a memory trigger for me. It's where all of sudden this smell hits your nostrils and memories come to the forefront. If you think about it, all those scented candles you can buy, your choice to buy may have been influenced by a memory it evoked.
My first memory of smell was of my dad's father wanting to smell my curls. As a child, I had a head full of curly hair. Every time the family would go over to my father's parents, the first thing my grandad would say to me was "Come over here and let me smell those curls." He'd hug me tight and bury his nose in my head and inhale deeply. It always made me feel good. A good hug and an acceptance smell. Once I turned 30 I told him to stop. No, just a joke, he died while I was still a young child unfortunately. This is where I got my love of smells from-no doubt.
If you have ever been around babies, well, is there anything better than a good smelling baby? I'm talking right after you bathe them and put some baby powder on them and some baby lotion in their hair and they are so cute. I can't hold a baby without giving them a smell down. Their innocence with good smells is a knockout combination. When I smell baby powder now, I can flashback in my mind to moments with my two sons.
Everybody has their own distinct smell. It may be manufactured with lotions or colognes, but, it is unique to the person. Hence, not all fragrances smell great on all people. There is a movie called "Perfume" that tells the story of smells and scents very well. In it, there is like an ultimate perfume made from the essence of others that leads to the destruction of the creator. Bizarre movie but very good story. We all make judgements about people based on their smell. If someone stinks or has an unpleasant odor, we tend to have a negative opinion about them. If they wear too much perfume, the same can be said.
My significant other once dated a man who could not stand smells of any sort. This I cannot imagine. To me the five senses are to be embraced and not reduced to an aversion. In my opinion, he is a nut case with more deeper seeded neurosis's than meets the nose. I, on the other hand, love to smell my significant other. Yes, I hug her and inhale deeply just like my grandfather did before me. Thank goodness she tolerates it. It helps my memory when I haven't seen her for a while. How about clothes? Haven't you picked up a shirt that has been worn by someone and still smell them on it?
I haven't talked about bad smells because they are just bad. They do nothing for me. I appreciate that I can distinguish good from bad smells, otherwise I may purchase Ode de Dog Poop candles and offend everyone in my house. But, bad smells do not emotional touch me. It's more of a physical alert. I love going into the Yankee Candle shop in Williamsburg. They have hundreds of scents that they replicate that are great fun to smell. And, yes, they do bring back memories.
Well, to smell is to live to me. I love new smells as well as memory inducing old ones. I'm grateful I can smell. Why do I have this strong desire to smell? I guess nobody really nose:)
Keith
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Laughter is the Best Medicine
I love humor. I love to hear a good joke or just have a good laugh. Growing up, my grandparents had a subscription to Reader's Digest. Laughter is the Best Medicine was a section featured in the magazine. It told amusing anecdotes and funny stories. There was another section called Life in These United States and one that featured the military. I read them every single month. I loved Mad magazine. I purchased every issue growing up. I bought Archie comics, Richie Rich comics and others of that sort. I wish I'd kept them, they'd probably be worth a fortune by now. I would purchase paperbacks of Mad's featured artists and satirists. I'd buy paperbacks of cartoons featuring certain cartoonists. I just loved humor. I still have quite a few of my paperbacks. Some date from the late '60s.
Humor can be very varied. Slapstick comedy, dark comedy, gross humor, dirty jokes, bathroom humor, puns, double entendres, etc. I really like it all. I realize that some people don't care for some particular types and that's okay. Humor is no different than anything else in terms of taste. My grandfather use to be a big joke teller growing up. He'd laugh just as hard at his own jokes as anybody else. He use to tell slightly bawdy jokes that I didn't understand but I'd laugh anyway with everyone else. I had a neighbor once who started telling jokes at a Halloween party. He reminded me of my grandfather. He had a ton of jokes and told them really well with enthusiasm. He's still very funny to this day. That Halloween he was dressed as a woman with a mustache. Funny sight to begin with before he opened his mouth and told a joke.
Humor does not have to be sophisticated. Bathing my sons in the bathtub, they would occasionally have gas and watching farts bubble to the surface is funny. They'd be laughing before the fart even broke the surface and they were under two years old. Guess they got the humor gene too. Laughing with them is always fun. Laughing to the point of tears is great fun.
In tough situations, sometimes humor is the best way to break the tension or lighten the mood. When my mother was dying of cancer, I remember moments when humor was used to offer levity to a dire situation. My mother would often be the one to try and lighten the mood. As relatives have passed away, humor works wonders at funerals. Remembering funny stories about your loved ones always brings a smile to your face.
Self depreciating humor is great when you have the right person involved. Having the self confidence to make fun of yourself or relay a less than stellar story about yourself can add to the humor. My brother is great at telling stories about himself that always leave me laughing. The same stories to boot. The jacket is probably his most classic.
So, I hope everyone has a sense of humor. Unfortunately, I know people that just don't laugh. I think that they just can't relax. I do believe that humor can be just what is needed to help us cope with life. It certainly helps me.
So, take two jokes and call me in the morning.
Doc Keith
Humor can be very varied. Slapstick comedy, dark comedy, gross humor, dirty jokes, bathroom humor, puns, double entendres, etc. I really like it all. I realize that some people don't care for some particular types and that's okay. Humor is no different than anything else in terms of taste. My grandfather use to be a big joke teller growing up. He'd laugh just as hard at his own jokes as anybody else. He use to tell slightly bawdy jokes that I didn't understand but I'd laugh anyway with everyone else. I had a neighbor once who started telling jokes at a Halloween party. He reminded me of my grandfather. He had a ton of jokes and told them really well with enthusiasm. He's still very funny to this day. That Halloween he was dressed as a woman with a mustache. Funny sight to begin with before he opened his mouth and told a joke.
Humor does not have to be sophisticated. Bathing my sons in the bathtub, they would occasionally have gas and watching farts bubble to the surface is funny. They'd be laughing before the fart even broke the surface and they were under two years old. Guess they got the humor gene too. Laughing with them is always fun. Laughing to the point of tears is great fun.
In tough situations, sometimes humor is the best way to break the tension or lighten the mood. When my mother was dying of cancer, I remember moments when humor was used to offer levity to a dire situation. My mother would often be the one to try and lighten the mood. As relatives have passed away, humor works wonders at funerals. Remembering funny stories about your loved ones always brings a smile to your face.
Self depreciating humor is great when you have the right person involved. Having the self confidence to make fun of yourself or relay a less than stellar story about yourself can add to the humor. My brother is great at telling stories about himself that always leave me laughing. The same stories to boot. The jacket is probably his most classic.
So, I hope everyone has a sense of humor. Unfortunately, I know people that just don't laugh. I think that they just can't relax. I do believe that humor can be just what is needed to help us cope with life. It certainly helps me.
So, take two jokes and call me in the morning.
Doc Keith
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Kiss
Remember your first kiss? Is the kiss overrated? Do you like to kiss? How many movies and tv shows hype and glamorize the first kiss. What's a kiss's purpose anyway?
I still remember my first kiss. It was the summer of seventh grade and this girl that I had liked found out that I liked her. The typical exchanging hand written notes from one friend to another with the do you like me stuff. After much pen and paper used, it was decided that we liked each other. Mind you, instead of just asking each other, we used the most convoluted method possible to communicate. Gotta love those thirteen year old skills. Well, we ended up a mutual friend's house one hot July eve. We had been talking to each other once we found that we had mutual interest in each other. Every one else there at this person's house was aware that this was the first time that we were together since the news of mutual admiration. It was decided that we needed to kiss. There wwas tall bushes in the yard so we left to go behind them. It was almost one of those ready, set, go kind of moments. We looked at each other, smiled, closed eyes and kissed. More like touched lips, but it qualified as a kiss. I was invigorated. I felt changed. I felt that my journey with the opposite sex was getting ready to take off. I learned to kiss with this girl. We took our time exploring as any thirteen year olds would. The lesson didn't go very far.
My grandmother taught me about different types of kisses. Specifically how Eskimos and butterflies kiss. She said Eskimos rubbed their noses together to kiss. So we'd do it together and laugh. She said butterflies fluttered their eyelashes together. So we'd get real close and flutter our eyelashes together and laugh. This was before I was thirteen and knew more advanced types between non kin opposite sex humans.
One New Year's Eve, I had a steady girlfriend and we were celebrating at my grandparents house. There was a lot of family there and friends of my grandparents. I was over eighteen and, in the seventies, I could drink beer. I did drink beer. Well, the countdown happened like so many have-ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five ,four, three, two, one, Happy New Year! So at this point in my family you kiss every one to wish in the New Year. My girlfriend was standing next to me so I planted a special kiss for her including a little bit of tongue. Now, on to the rest of the crowd. I will never forget this next moment for the rest of my life. Polly Dunnington-a very close friend of my grandparents-think 60+, was leaning up for a kiss. My mind temporarily snapped. I thought I was kissing my girlfriend still. I leaned down and kissed her with a wet tongue! I still remember her reaction. She looked up at me and just said "Whew!" She had a huge smile on her face and I was taken aback. I didn't say a word and went on kissing with very tight lips.
Kissing is an art form. Some kisses you watch and just make you want to go out and kiss. Other people kiss and it just makes you cringe. I enjoy kissing. Now there are different types. The romantic kiss, the kissing cousin kiss, the parent/child kiss, the baby kiss, the kiss and make up, the kiss off, the kiss my ass, etc.
Kisses to me represent affection for the other person whether passionate or a lot less. There is a genuineness to it because your defenses and personal circle are down. Most people enjoy being kissed by people they care for. It shows affection and we can never have enough of loving care.
So, have you kissed someone today?
Keith
I still remember my first kiss. It was the summer of seventh grade and this girl that I had liked found out that I liked her. The typical exchanging hand written notes from one friend to another with the do you like me stuff. After much pen and paper used, it was decided that we liked each other. Mind you, instead of just asking each other, we used the most convoluted method possible to communicate. Gotta love those thirteen year old skills. Well, we ended up a mutual friend's house one hot July eve. We had been talking to each other once we found that we had mutual interest in each other. Every one else there at this person's house was aware that this was the first time that we were together since the news of mutual admiration. It was decided that we needed to kiss. There wwas tall bushes in the yard so we left to go behind them. It was almost one of those ready, set, go kind of moments. We looked at each other, smiled, closed eyes and kissed. More like touched lips, but it qualified as a kiss. I was invigorated. I felt changed. I felt that my journey with the opposite sex was getting ready to take off. I learned to kiss with this girl. We took our time exploring as any thirteen year olds would. The lesson didn't go very far.
My grandmother taught me about different types of kisses. Specifically how Eskimos and butterflies kiss. She said Eskimos rubbed their noses together to kiss. So we'd do it together and laugh. She said butterflies fluttered their eyelashes together. So we'd get real close and flutter our eyelashes together and laugh. This was before I was thirteen and knew more advanced types between non kin opposite sex humans.
One New Year's Eve, I had a steady girlfriend and we were celebrating at my grandparents house. There was a lot of family there and friends of my grandparents. I was over eighteen and, in the seventies, I could drink beer. I did drink beer. Well, the countdown happened like so many have-ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five ,four, three, two, one, Happy New Year! So at this point in my family you kiss every one to wish in the New Year. My girlfriend was standing next to me so I planted a special kiss for her including a little bit of tongue. Now, on to the rest of the crowd. I will never forget this next moment for the rest of my life. Polly Dunnington-a very close friend of my grandparents-think 60+, was leaning up for a kiss. My mind temporarily snapped. I thought I was kissing my girlfriend still. I leaned down and kissed her with a wet tongue! I still remember her reaction. She looked up at me and just said "Whew!" She had a huge smile on her face and I was taken aback. I didn't say a word and went on kissing with very tight lips.
Kissing is an art form. Some kisses you watch and just make you want to go out and kiss. Other people kiss and it just makes you cringe. I enjoy kissing. Now there are different types. The romantic kiss, the kissing cousin kiss, the parent/child kiss, the baby kiss, the kiss and make up, the kiss off, the kiss my ass, etc.
Kisses to me represent affection for the other person whether passionate or a lot less. There is a genuineness to it because your defenses and personal circle are down. Most people enjoy being kissed by people they care for. It shows affection and we can never have enough of loving care.
So, have you kissed someone today?
Keith
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Nags Head Part 2
I could go on and on about Nags Head because it has been such a part of my life. From my parents and grandparents taking me there to me taking my kids there, the trek continues. Nags Head has such a rich history. You have all the pirates who lured ships to the shores of the Outer Banks to pillage to ships-Blackbeard being one of the most famous. You have the Wright Brothers with their first flight taking place on the dunes of Kitty Hawk. One this one peninsula that is less than one mile wide at parts.
My grandparents and their children would rent a cabin and bring the whole extended family down. Usually close to twenty plus people. You had to accept the cot on the floor or the couch as your bed. Married couples got the beds. It was great fun. As we have gotten older, I reminisce about those times when we all just got together and caught up, fought up and spent time together. It was a definition of family to me. I don't think those moments will ever be recaptured. But, I was very fortunate to have them personally. I believe that both my boys love Nags Head and will go there in the future. I will continue to trek down there when I can. Hopefully with the two boys-yeah, I realize with Hunter's baseball it may not be summer.
While married, we had started to have a family vacation with neighbors. They were similar in scope with their family dynamics and there was synergy between us. We probably went on a joint vacation with them for over five years. It was great times. My brother and sister have gone down to Nags Head on a number of vacations together in recent years. The ties of the Outer Banks are strong.
The restaurants are great-Black Pelican, Tale of the Whale(Whale of the Tale, Tale of the way to be)-never could say the name of that restaurant without adding the parentheses part, Sam and Ommies,Weeping Radish and others. The jet skis, the waves, the golfing, celebrating the fourth of July, chilling on the deck or hot tub with some adult beverages-it can't be beat in my opinion.
Tony Bennett sings "I left my heart in San Francisco", but, I leave mind in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
Put your sunscreen on and watch out for the hot sand.
Keith
My grandparents and their children would rent a cabin and bring the whole extended family down. Usually close to twenty plus people. You had to accept the cot on the floor or the couch as your bed. Married couples got the beds. It was great fun. As we have gotten older, I reminisce about those times when we all just got together and caught up, fought up and spent time together. It was a definition of family to me. I don't think those moments will ever be recaptured. But, I was very fortunate to have them personally. I believe that both my boys love Nags Head and will go there in the future. I will continue to trek down there when I can. Hopefully with the two boys-yeah, I realize with Hunter's baseball it may not be summer.
While married, we had started to have a family vacation with neighbors. They were similar in scope with their family dynamics and there was synergy between us. We probably went on a joint vacation with them for over five years. It was great times. My brother and sister have gone down to Nags Head on a number of vacations together in recent years. The ties of the Outer Banks are strong.
The restaurants are great-Black Pelican, Tale of the Whale(Whale of the Tale, Tale of the way to be)-never could say the name of that restaurant without adding the parentheses part, Sam and Ommies,Weeping Radish and others. The jet skis, the waves, the golfing, celebrating the fourth of July, chilling on the deck or hot tub with some adult beverages-it can't be beat in my opinion.
Tony Bennett sings "I left my heart in San Francisco", but, I leave mind in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
Put your sunscreen on and watch out for the hot sand.
Keith
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Nags Head, NC
I love the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I think of it as my second home. I first went to Nags Head when I was eight or nine years old. That's my first memory anyway. My family use to rent a cabin oceanfront from the local pharmacy. I believe it was Miller's Pharmacy. It is no longer there. The cabin was up on stilts-a standard way to build in Nags Head. It had no air conditioning. If you've been to the Outer Banks, you know it gets really hot in the summer. Well, the cabin had lots of windows that you kept open to let the ocean breezes blow through the house. The house was hot just the same. You'd sit at the wooden kitchen table and put your arms on the table and they'd stick to the table. You could feel the skin tug as you pulled your arms from the table. Sleeping at night was always coverless. You'd wake up in the morning and your head would be slightly wet. However, going to sleep at night hearing the ocean waves crash the beach was great sleep inducing music. You'd have to bring your food from home because there were no grocery stores in Nags Head. A local trading post-Calhouns I believe, was the only source for additional food items. The week's stay was always great. I loved going in the ocean and riding waves in whether on board or just body. There'd be days where the waves were wild and others where they'd be mild.
That was over forty years ago. Things have definitely changed. I still have some great memories with my family from those early years. We also stayed in some cabins that weren't on stilts. I can't remember their name but they also weren't air conditioned and on the cramped side. A local guy in Hopewell owned a cabin down in Nags Head. I believe his name was Elmo Parr. He owned a local BBQ joint in Hopewell. One time, Elmo and his friends offered to take my dad and me flounder gigging. It is done at night in the dark. We packed into his truck and headed to the Oregon Inlet bridge. Right before we got to the bridge, we turned off the road onto sand. We four wheeled it to somewhere under the bridge. It was low tide. There were all these little water causeways where the water still flowed. We were getting ready to walk in them. The gig was a long pole with a spear on one end and a rope with a knot tied to the other end. The concept was you'd spear the flounder, then slide it along the pole to the rope where it'd slide down and be dragged in the water behind you to keep the fish fresh. There was also a light pole that you'd place into the water near the sands surface to look the outline of the flounder in the sand. It was totally dark so that light in the water was the only source by which to see. Seeing all the sea life at night in this environment was amazing. Watching large fish swim between my legs was a little freaky but cool nonetheless. The water started out no more than knee deep but it got to points where we were in to our shoulders. It was an experience I'll never forget. We got a boatload of flounder and fried it up the next night.
The water at Nags Head can be very tricky. Sandbars can appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. Sometimes you can walk for a long way out with the water no more deep than your ankles. I remember one time with my sister we were walking on the sandbar and we noticed the sandbar shifting. We ran towards shore to escape the shifting sand but my sister made a wrong move and stepped off the bar into water over her head. It freaked both of us out. She swam out of the water just slightly shaken.
Another time I was carrying my brother on my shoulders with my sister and her friend along the ocean at night. The tide was coming in and eating up the entire beach. We had to climb the dunes and come back to our cabin by the road because the tide had come in so high. My parents were worried sick because they had noticed the tide and thought we could be in trouble. They were very relieved when they saw us arrive back from our excursion.
This is a good place to stop for now. I have more to say but at 1am, I'm getting tired. Thanks for reading so far.
Keith
That was over forty years ago. Things have definitely changed. I still have some great memories with my family from those early years. We also stayed in some cabins that weren't on stilts. I can't remember their name but they also weren't air conditioned and on the cramped side. A local guy in Hopewell owned a cabin down in Nags Head. I believe his name was Elmo Parr. He owned a local BBQ joint in Hopewell. One time, Elmo and his friends offered to take my dad and me flounder gigging. It is done at night in the dark. We packed into his truck and headed to the Oregon Inlet bridge. Right before we got to the bridge, we turned off the road onto sand. We four wheeled it to somewhere under the bridge. It was low tide. There were all these little water causeways where the water still flowed. We were getting ready to walk in them. The gig was a long pole with a spear on one end and a rope with a knot tied to the other end. The concept was you'd spear the flounder, then slide it along the pole to the rope where it'd slide down and be dragged in the water behind you to keep the fish fresh. There was also a light pole that you'd place into the water near the sands surface to look the outline of the flounder in the sand. It was totally dark so that light in the water was the only source by which to see. Seeing all the sea life at night in this environment was amazing. Watching large fish swim between my legs was a little freaky but cool nonetheless. The water started out no more than knee deep but it got to points where we were in to our shoulders. It was an experience I'll never forget. We got a boatload of flounder and fried it up the next night.
The water at Nags Head can be very tricky. Sandbars can appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. Sometimes you can walk for a long way out with the water no more deep than your ankles. I remember one time with my sister we were walking on the sandbar and we noticed the sandbar shifting. We ran towards shore to escape the shifting sand but my sister made a wrong move and stepped off the bar into water over her head. It freaked both of us out. She swam out of the water just slightly shaken.
Another time I was carrying my brother on my shoulders with my sister and her friend along the ocean at night. The tide was coming in and eating up the entire beach. We had to climb the dunes and come back to our cabin by the road because the tide had come in so high. My parents were worried sick because they had noticed the tide and thought we could be in trouble. They were very relieved when they saw us arrive back from our excursion.
This is a good place to stop for now. I have more to say but at 1am, I'm getting tired. Thanks for reading so far.
Keith
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Weinergate
I really feel sorry for Anthony Weiner. That New York congressman who tweeted his way to Weinerville. I mean if you grow up with Weiner for a last name, it ain't going to be easy. Children can be so cruel. However, if you realize that your last name can subject you to ridicule, don't throw fuel on the fire.
Late night talk shows have had a ball-two in the case of Weiner? roasting him. God, two puns in one sentence. It may be the lowest form of humor, but it is funny. The man spent nine days denying that it was him. His account had been hacked. Then, he admits he lied and there is six women who have tweeted plus with this man who has been married just over a year.
How do you hold your head up in public after all that? How can you say you will continue in your job as a congressman after you've been found dilly dallying with young women in a lewd sort of way. Does he get a Bill Clinton pass? Before this broke, he was a far left leaning democrat blathering about his socialistic causes. I felt he was a joke then. I felt he was a dick. He has since acted like his name with the current dilemma. Well, whatever he did before this personal crisis, it is the only thing that he will be remembered for now. Did his last name dictate his inevitable future behavior?
This is why I love politics. Politicians can make things so much fun. It's only a matter of time till we elect a Ms. Pussy. I can't wait!
Happy times,
Keith
Late night talk shows have had a ball-two in the case of Weiner? roasting him. God, two puns in one sentence. It may be the lowest form of humor, but it is funny. The man spent nine days denying that it was him. His account had been hacked. Then, he admits he lied and there is six women who have tweeted plus with this man who has been married just over a year.
How do you hold your head up in public after all that? How can you say you will continue in your job as a congressman after you've been found dilly dallying with young women in a lewd sort of way. Does he get a Bill Clinton pass? Before this broke, he was a far left leaning democrat blathering about his socialistic causes. I felt he was a joke then. I felt he was a dick. He has since acted like his name with the current dilemma. Well, whatever he did before this personal crisis, it is the only thing that he will be remembered for now. Did his last name dictate his inevitable future behavior?
This is why I love politics. Politicians can make things so much fun. It's only a matter of time till we elect a Ms. Pussy. I can't wait!
Happy times,
Keith
The Only Thing Constant is Change
Boy, I've been hearing that line for a long time. It is so true. I guess that's why it is still around and being said. Change is not something that is universally endorsed by all. Some people just like things the way they are and don't want to change. They would be considered dinosaurs and we all know what happened to the dinosaurs. So, what's the big deal? Why is it necessary to want change and at the same time want some things to not change?
Stability comes to mind for those that want little or no change. They have their little foundation built the way they want it and just want to continue living that way. Watch out for the flood waters. You've seen movies based on this premise. Obscure guy living his life with his same job for years. Obscure guy loses job for reasons beyond his control. Obscure guy loses it mentally and goes on killing rampage. Kind of a drastic take on reaction to change, but, real nonetheless. My sister does not have a debit card. She writes checks everywhere. She lives in a small town so she can get away with it. If I'm in line at a store and see a person paying with a check, I get irritated. How can this person still live in the dark ages. How can they slow down this line with their paper check? Did the new technology pass them by due them being locked in a closet at the moment of this change?
What has not changed in the last ten years? My children-change, my life-change, cell phone-change, job-change, television-change, President-change-Obama lovers happy with your change now?, city you live in-change, your attitude and beliefs-change, books-change, etc. Everything that we know continues to change. 100 years ago changes came at a much slower pace. It was a steady and slow kind of change. Now, hold on to your hat, you're in for a helluva roller coaster ride. The real catalyst for all this change-technology. It to me, has changed our lives drastically.
Last night I was out eating with my two sons and my significant other and they were sitting at the table playing games on their phones. They'd stop and text others and then go back to their little iPhones. Our conversation was limited based on trying to balance games, texts, emails, and real time conversations. This is not unique. They'd do it with their friends as well. They are one reach in their pocket from their phone. But, are they really staying in touch or building up a barrier between human interaction? Text is abbreviated language reduced to minimalist communicating. Tweeting is limited number of characters. Tweeting is mass communication to everyone but no one. You put your thought out there and some people pick it up and others don't even know what twitter is. Are we really getting better at communicating or just increasing the options?
I love technology. I absolutely love cell phones. I've had mine since 1996. Same phone number but quite a few different phones. So, a combination of not wanting change and embracing change? Video games amaze me know. I loved the Atari system and Pong when it first came out. I loved the 8 bit Nintendo system. Now it's PS 3, X Box, Wii and motion sensors to immerse you in the game even more. The graphics are so realistic. I wouldn't trade my HD tv for anything. The old cumbersome tube tv's of old were so old school. The Internet is so wild and crazy. What a wealth of info out in cyberspace. This Blog has benefitted by the Internet being here. And yet I'm communicating blindly. I have no face to look into as I write, just an iPad screen. So, I'm communicating as a broadcast. Yelling from the top of a mountain or tower to whoever hears me.
So are we better communicators or worse nowadays? We are better at processing vast amounts of info quickly but weaker at the interpersonal skills between two people. We just don't spend enough time one on one without artificial forms of communication getting in the way to make us lazy at really paying attention.
So, back to change and our lives. Is it good? There is no easy answer. I'm accustomed to it now and know there is no turning back. However, I yearn for the easier days when dinner at the table with all eyes on each other were the norm. Not, let me be entertained every second with sensory overload that satisfies my short attention span. The human touch can't be replaced or replicated by modern technology changes. Oh, but it'll try with some kind of virtual reality.
I know that five years from now I will be embracing openly or begrudgingly all the changes that rapidly will come. I just hope that my old school sense of family and friends doesn't change and yet I know it will. I just hope the changes are for the better.
Well, in this blog I changed directions quite often. I changed my mind and erased a number of thoughts. I love change even thought I often go kicking and screaming as it occurs. Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes- Jimmy Buffett- my paradise poet. Till we meet again. Can you spare some change?
Keith
Stability comes to mind for those that want little or no change. They have their little foundation built the way they want it and just want to continue living that way. Watch out for the flood waters. You've seen movies based on this premise. Obscure guy living his life with his same job for years. Obscure guy loses job for reasons beyond his control. Obscure guy loses it mentally and goes on killing rampage. Kind of a drastic take on reaction to change, but, real nonetheless. My sister does not have a debit card. She writes checks everywhere. She lives in a small town so she can get away with it. If I'm in line at a store and see a person paying with a check, I get irritated. How can this person still live in the dark ages. How can they slow down this line with their paper check? Did the new technology pass them by due them being locked in a closet at the moment of this change?
What has not changed in the last ten years? My children-change, my life-change, cell phone-change, job-change, television-change, President-change-Obama lovers happy with your change now?, city you live in-change, your attitude and beliefs-change, books-change, etc. Everything that we know continues to change. 100 years ago changes came at a much slower pace. It was a steady and slow kind of change. Now, hold on to your hat, you're in for a helluva roller coaster ride. The real catalyst for all this change-technology. It to me, has changed our lives drastically.
Last night I was out eating with my two sons and my significant other and they were sitting at the table playing games on their phones. They'd stop and text others and then go back to their little iPhones. Our conversation was limited based on trying to balance games, texts, emails, and real time conversations. This is not unique. They'd do it with their friends as well. They are one reach in their pocket from their phone. But, are they really staying in touch or building up a barrier between human interaction? Text is abbreviated language reduced to minimalist communicating. Tweeting is limited number of characters. Tweeting is mass communication to everyone but no one. You put your thought out there and some people pick it up and others don't even know what twitter is. Are we really getting better at communicating or just increasing the options?
I love technology. I absolutely love cell phones. I've had mine since 1996. Same phone number but quite a few different phones. So, a combination of not wanting change and embracing change? Video games amaze me know. I loved the Atari system and Pong when it first came out. I loved the 8 bit Nintendo system. Now it's PS 3, X Box, Wii and motion sensors to immerse you in the game even more. The graphics are so realistic. I wouldn't trade my HD tv for anything. The old cumbersome tube tv's of old were so old school. The Internet is so wild and crazy. What a wealth of info out in cyberspace. This Blog has benefitted by the Internet being here. And yet I'm communicating blindly. I have no face to look into as I write, just an iPad screen. So, I'm communicating as a broadcast. Yelling from the top of a mountain or tower to whoever hears me.
So are we better communicators or worse nowadays? We are better at processing vast amounts of info quickly but weaker at the interpersonal skills between two people. We just don't spend enough time one on one without artificial forms of communication getting in the way to make us lazy at really paying attention.
So, back to change and our lives. Is it good? There is no easy answer. I'm accustomed to it now and know there is no turning back. However, I yearn for the easier days when dinner at the table with all eyes on each other were the norm. Not, let me be entertained every second with sensory overload that satisfies my short attention span. The human touch can't be replaced or replicated by modern technology changes. Oh, but it'll try with some kind of virtual reality.
I know that five years from now I will be embracing openly or begrudgingly all the changes that rapidly will come. I just hope that my old school sense of family and friends doesn't change and yet I know it will. I just hope the changes are for the better.
Well, in this blog I changed directions quite often. I changed my mind and erased a number of thoughts. I love change even thought I often go kicking and screaming as it occurs. Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes- Jimmy Buffett- my paradise poet. Till we meet again. Can you spare some change?
Keith
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Love
The dictionary lists the word love as a noun and a verb. Two of the noun definitions are interesting. Love is a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. Love is a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend. The dictionary lists an additional eighteen definitions of love. Four letters that pack a punch.
Just how much do we use this word. We actually use it with random abandon. I love pizza. I love the movies. I just love your dress. How about some love? My first true love is music. I love to love you baby. I love it to death. My love, how about a cup of tea? Let's make love, not war. We'd love to visit you next week. Wouldn't you love me to quit with this nonsense?
So, we have this word that is used quite prolifically and yet can be so personal in certain moments. Remember when you told someone of the opposite sex that you loved them for the first time. You were so scared to say it. You feared that they wouldn't say it back to you. By saying that you loved them, it meant taking the relationship to a new level. Love meant that your care for that person was pretty damn intense. Remember that childhood little ditty about two lovebirds. Keith and Ronda sitting in a tree. K I S S I N G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Chucky in the baby carriage. See, even as young children we knew the progression of love.
Family love. That second definition I cited. It is sort of assumed that with family, the love is a given. Looking out in the world, me not think so much. It seems that love is very hard to maintain. It is a ongoing process and evolvement of time and patience. Family love does have the blood ties and blood is suppose to be thicker than water but I'm sure we can all cite examples where this is not true. I grew up around my mother's parents-my grandparents, and they exemplified unconditional love. They loved and accepted all four of their children no matter what. They loved and accepted their spouses or two. They loved and accepted their children's children no matter what brats they could be. I remember my mother's brother had moved to Richmond and didn't come to as many family gatherings as the three girls. I do believe it did bother my grandparents but they never said anything. However, when he did come, they didn't chastise him for not being there for some events but celebrated that he was there then. They were really such great role models of unconditional love.
Back to love. What a powerful emotion. It can cause you to do crazy things. Look at Romeo and Juliet- it doesn't get anymore drastic than that. When you're in love, the world is great. The sun always shines and nothing bothers you. When you're falling out of love or your love has been rejected you feel like poo. It's raining all the time and you don't want to do anything but seal yourself off from the world. Self doubt about yourself creeps in your thinking. All because of love. I have loved and lost love. The high can't get higher and the low can't get lower. I want to be loved. It makes me feel good about myself. Someone accepting me for me.
As trivial as we use the word love, it is one of the greatest words in the English language. I do believe it is at the core of our being. I believe our life's outlook is based on how we feel loved by others. I believe the more we try to love others, the more love we will receive. A lot easier said than done. I'm not talking multiple partners love, but showing care and consideration towards others. Sort of a general love for our fellow human beings. Give and ye shall receive. I don't believe we can perfect our ability to love. It is an on going event that requires constant effort and attention. Anything worthwhile always does. I myself struggle with showing my love to others appropriately. I'll keep trying because it is well worth it.
I have to finish this blog with my stupid humor. I loved writing this blog. Hope you love it. Have a lovely day. Loving every minute of it. Love to keep writing but it's time to end.
Keith
Just how much do we use this word. We actually use it with random abandon. I love pizza. I love the movies. I just love your dress. How about some love? My first true love is music. I love to love you baby. I love it to death. My love, how about a cup of tea? Let's make love, not war. We'd love to visit you next week. Wouldn't you love me to quit with this nonsense?
So, we have this word that is used quite prolifically and yet can be so personal in certain moments. Remember when you told someone of the opposite sex that you loved them for the first time. You were so scared to say it. You feared that they wouldn't say it back to you. By saying that you loved them, it meant taking the relationship to a new level. Love meant that your care for that person was pretty damn intense. Remember that childhood little ditty about two lovebirds. Keith and Ronda sitting in a tree. K I S S I N G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Chucky in the baby carriage. See, even as young children we knew the progression of love.
Family love. That second definition I cited. It is sort of assumed that with family, the love is a given. Looking out in the world, me not think so much. It seems that love is very hard to maintain. It is a ongoing process and evolvement of time and patience. Family love does have the blood ties and blood is suppose to be thicker than water but I'm sure we can all cite examples where this is not true. I grew up around my mother's parents-my grandparents, and they exemplified unconditional love. They loved and accepted all four of their children no matter what. They loved and accepted their spouses or two. They loved and accepted their children's children no matter what brats they could be. I remember my mother's brother had moved to Richmond and didn't come to as many family gatherings as the three girls. I do believe it did bother my grandparents but they never said anything. However, when he did come, they didn't chastise him for not being there for some events but celebrated that he was there then. They were really such great role models of unconditional love.
Back to love. What a powerful emotion. It can cause you to do crazy things. Look at Romeo and Juliet- it doesn't get anymore drastic than that. When you're in love, the world is great. The sun always shines and nothing bothers you. When you're falling out of love or your love has been rejected you feel like poo. It's raining all the time and you don't want to do anything but seal yourself off from the world. Self doubt about yourself creeps in your thinking. All because of love. I have loved and lost love. The high can't get higher and the low can't get lower. I want to be loved. It makes me feel good about myself. Someone accepting me for me.
As trivial as we use the word love, it is one of the greatest words in the English language. I do believe it is at the core of our being. I believe our life's outlook is based on how we feel loved by others. I believe the more we try to love others, the more love we will receive. A lot easier said than done. I'm not talking multiple partners love, but showing care and consideration towards others. Sort of a general love for our fellow human beings. Give and ye shall receive. I don't believe we can perfect our ability to love. It is an on going event that requires constant effort and attention. Anything worthwhile always does. I myself struggle with showing my love to others appropriately. I'll keep trying because it is well worth it.
I have to finish this blog with my stupid humor. I loved writing this blog. Hope you love it. Have a lovely day. Loving every minute of it. Love to keep writing but it's time to end.
Keith
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Lights, Cameras, Movies
I love movies. I don't remember a time when I didn't enjoy watching a movie whether on tv or in a theater. I remember that my mother use to buy and collect movies on VHS tapes. I too have started to collect movies on DVD and blu ray. My mother's never got more than twenty or thirty movies. Mine however has become a serious obsession. I have movies that I have not even taken the plastic wrap off. I'm sure I'll see it some day, but there are quite a few that fall in this category. I have been collecting movies for a number of years. My collection is currently in the neighborhood of 1300 DVDs.
Let me take you back to where it all began. When I was very young, drive in movie theaters were a big deal. Double features you couldn't beat. Wear your pajamas and put that tinny old sound box on your car window and watch movies in your car under the night sky. That was cool. My parents use to take me and my brother and sister to the Disney movies and we'd alway get drinks and popcorn and have a great time.
When I got my license at 16, wheels meant I could head to Richmond instead of just what was playing in Hopewell at the theater - the Beacon I believe. My heyday with movies began. I was working at a grocery store so I always had money in my pocket. My entertainment was new movie openings. Friday night was a big night to me. I remember when The Exorcist came out in '72 or '73. I left school on Friday afternoon and headed straight to the Capital theater on Broad St. It was across the street from the current Science Museum. I went with a friend and we stood in a long line of people all anxious to see this movie. It was awesome at the time. The level of graphic horror mixed with religion was ground breaking at the time. I still can hear Tubular Bells play in my head with the soundtrack. My friend got weirded out and didn't talk on the way home. I loved that a movie could cause that kind of impact. I do not remember a Friday or Saturday night during high school that I didn't see at least one movie.
In college my money was a lot more limited so my choices were more specific. Animal House was a big time favorite. Gatoring was something my fraternity still did. I still enjoy watching this movie. Yes, I have it on DVD. And, of course, who can forget Star Wars. What a fantastic movie. That whole franchise spanned decades. Movies tell such fantastic tales. I'm a visual person so telling a story via moving pictures just hits my button.
Fast forward to having children. Every Disney movie out there I took my boys to see. I didn't care if it was for children, it was entertainment. Toy Story- enough said. One summer when my boys could see R-rated fare, we went to movies every Wednesday afternoon and would come out of the theater and rate the movie from one popcorn to four. We had a great time seeing a wide variety of movies and comparing our likes and dislikes.
As my boys aged, I started buying VHS tapes. We'd watch movies at home as well in the theater. Once DVDs became the in thing, I got the home Theater setup to give us that surround sound experience at home. I set up one room that I called the game room, but it was where we would gather to watch movies. Popcorn-check, drinks-check, blankets-check, bathroom break-check, cut the lights and push play.
From that day forward, movies have been a big deal on the home front. I still have my home theater experience going but I still like going to movies in the theater. It is such big business whether in the theater or at home that I'm not alone in my love of movies. It is always a topic of conversation and can get otherwise quiet people excited talking about their favorite movie.
I currently have not bought any new DVDs for over three weeks. It has been a slight struggle. I know I have a ton of movies that I haven't seen that I own, but that new movies out on DVD every Tuesday use to be a big day for me like Friday night openings. I still see movies in the theater, but not trying to buy the DVDs to boot.
So, lights, camera, action, let's watch a movie.
The End.
Keith
Let me take you back to where it all began. When I was very young, drive in movie theaters were a big deal. Double features you couldn't beat. Wear your pajamas and put that tinny old sound box on your car window and watch movies in your car under the night sky. That was cool. My parents use to take me and my brother and sister to the Disney movies and we'd alway get drinks and popcorn and have a great time.
When I got my license at 16, wheels meant I could head to Richmond instead of just what was playing in Hopewell at the theater - the Beacon I believe. My heyday with movies began. I was working at a grocery store so I always had money in my pocket. My entertainment was new movie openings. Friday night was a big night to me. I remember when The Exorcist came out in '72 or '73. I left school on Friday afternoon and headed straight to the Capital theater on Broad St. It was across the street from the current Science Museum. I went with a friend and we stood in a long line of people all anxious to see this movie. It was awesome at the time. The level of graphic horror mixed with religion was ground breaking at the time. I still can hear Tubular Bells play in my head with the soundtrack. My friend got weirded out and didn't talk on the way home. I loved that a movie could cause that kind of impact. I do not remember a Friday or Saturday night during high school that I didn't see at least one movie.
In college my money was a lot more limited so my choices were more specific. Animal House was a big time favorite. Gatoring was something my fraternity still did. I still enjoy watching this movie. Yes, I have it on DVD. And, of course, who can forget Star Wars. What a fantastic movie. That whole franchise spanned decades. Movies tell such fantastic tales. I'm a visual person so telling a story via moving pictures just hits my button.
Fast forward to having children. Every Disney movie out there I took my boys to see. I didn't care if it was for children, it was entertainment. Toy Story- enough said. One summer when my boys could see R-rated fare, we went to movies every Wednesday afternoon and would come out of the theater and rate the movie from one popcorn to four. We had a great time seeing a wide variety of movies and comparing our likes and dislikes.
As my boys aged, I started buying VHS tapes. We'd watch movies at home as well in the theater. Once DVDs became the in thing, I got the home Theater setup to give us that surround sound experience at home. I set up one room that I called the game room, but it was where we would gather to watch movies. Popcorn-check, drinks-check, blankets-check, bathroom break-check, cut the lights and push play.
From that day forward, movies have been a big deal on the home front. I still have my home theater experience going but I still like going to movies in the theater. It is such big business whether in the theater or at home that I'm not alone in my love of movies. It is always a topic of conversation and can get otherwise quiet people excited talking about their favorite movie.
I currently have not bought any new DVDs for over three weeks. It has been a slight struggle. I know I have a ton of movies that I haven't seen that I own, but that new movies out on DVD every Tuesday use to be a big day for me like Friday night openings. I still see movies in the theater, but not trying to buy the DVDs to boot.
So, lights, camera, action, let's watch a movie.
The End.
Keith
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Alcoholism, my Dad and Me
I remember in the seventies they use to have all these made for tv movies about alcoholism. I probably watched them all. It was almost always the man of the family and it usually ended up with a happy ending. That happy ending never happened in my family.
My father was a man's man. He was athletic-football sports star in high school in the fifties when it was huge in the Hopewell area. He was good looking, he had an engaging personality and was a lot of fun to be around. Other men looked up to him. I could see that especially on the golf course. About that in time.
I really don't know when my father started drinking but I'm sure it was real early. Eighteen was old enough for beer in his day. He was a Marine-had the Marine Corp emblem tatooed on his arm. He was a partier. He had plenty of charm because my mother fell in love with him and they were married.
At what point you stop becoming a social drinker to an alcoholic I don't know. But it happened to my dad. As a child growing up around it, you really aren't paying attention to details that say "Yeah, that was the turning point." I can say that once you are immersed in the bottle, it is pretty evident to everybody. To this day, I know that I have been impacted by his alcoholism, but I don't know how for sure. I do drink beer but do go days without any alcohol. I know that alcoholism is hereditary and it worries me for both my boys because you just don't know. My baby brother I believe is an alcoholic or has a drug dependency or both. I hate that he has this burden.
Anyway, growing up with my dad was great when I was less than ten. The problems associated with his drinking were not ruling his life. The sad thing is that the memories after ten are the ones that stick in my mind. It really is not fair to him that I don't remember more good ones. I use to hate and despise him for losing his family due to his alcoholism. Now, maybe I realize what a strong disease that it is and how it was more powerful than him. It's more powerful than my brother currently.
Well, the lovely moments that define alcoholism, my dad and me. My earliest memory that things were not exactly normal was the ride to school in the morning. My sister and I would hop in the car and my dad would drive us to school. Some mornings he would ask me to open the glove compartment and hand him the bottle inside. He'd take a swig from the bottle, put the cap back on and tell me to put it back. When I asked him what it was he would reply it was fire water. Some afternoons when he'd pick us up from school, he'd come inside, grab a bottle of bourbon and pour himself a shot. He'd throw a shot back and rinse his mouth with water. Then he'd head back to work.
Around ten my dad taught me to play golf. Golf and my dad were one. Every weekend growing up my dad would head off early in the morning to play golf both days. He'd be back late afternoon so that the evening would be family time. My dad teaching me golf meant I was entering his weekend world. My dad was a scratch golfer. He could hit the ball a mile. I always loved watching him play because he was so very good. He knew it too. The weekend crew that my dad played golf with was anywhere from twenty to thirty strong. He was the one who decided teams and the bets and settled all the wagering. He was a wheeler dealer. His nickname was "Cosmo" after the card shark in the Beetle Bailey comic strip. Learning to play at first I was not allowed to play on the weekends. I'd go just to ride along and watch him play. By fourteen, I was ready for some action. My dad fronted the money to me for the betting. I loved it. Being part of the group was great fun. I was the youngest one. Most of the men were in their late twenties at the youngest. The majority were in their forties as was my dad. After golf they would gather at the country club for their card games. The betting continued and so did the drinking. At some point, I believe my dad enjoyed me being there more for the ride home. It meant he could drink more and not worry about getting stopped.
Some of the weekends I didn't go with him because of other things that I did-work, my friends, etc. When he came home one Saturday, I remember my mom had cooked meatloaf-one of his favorites. He was drunk and started ranting about not wanting meatloaf and why didn't she ask him what he wanted. It kind of struck a raw nerve with my mother. She picked the pan of meatloaf up and threw it into the sink. It was a porcelain dish and it shattered. The blue and white shards and the brown meatloaf flew about the kitchen. She picked up a bar stool and threw it down a number of times. One of the legs got bent and anytime anybody sat in it after that, it kind of rocked back and forth a little. Every time I sat in it, I remembered this moment. He ended passing out in bed less than a half hour later.
One night he had my little brother with him and they were late coming back home. They were suppose to be back by seven and it was around eight thirty. No cell phones back then. When my brother and dad showed up at the house, my brother was so proud of himself. He replied that dad couldn't see so he was the eyes getting them back home. My dad was blind drunk driving my brother home.
Another night he was so drunk that he couldn't walk once he got in the door. My mother was shouting at him as he crawled from the front door back to his bedroom. I use to help him back to his bed in earlier years but I got tired of the repeated act of drunkeness.
One year I went on a golf trip to Nags Head with my dad. He got so drunk he couldn't even take care of me. I remember seeing him drive by in his golf cart yelling and slurring something I couldn't understand. When I finished my eighteen holes and got back to the club house, I was told that they had taken my dad back to his room but they'd take care of me. I remember eating at the large table they had for dinner and feeling the other golfers looking at me with pity. I felt very embarrassed not just for me but my dad as well.
I went off for college in the mid seventies and didn't have to deal with the daily occurrences. My brother and sister said it got worse. I feel very sorry for them because I can't imagine worse. My mother did all the right things, AA, trips to detox centers, prayer,etc. Their marriage ended in divorce after twenty six years. I felt my mother held on for too long.
My relationship started to fade with my dad after his divorce from my mother. Like I said before, I hated him for the pain and anguish that he inflicted on his family. Only now do I realize that he was probably inflicting more pain and anguish on himself. He remarried to a woman I never met. He divorced her. He died of a heart attack in the same home he was born in in the year 2000. He had been dating a heroin addict. We believe that she was with him when he died and then left. She took things of value.
I loved my dad. My heart aches. It is a regret. Never give up.
Keith
My father was a man's man. He was athletic-football sports star in high school in the fifties when it was huge in the Hopewell area. He was good looking, he had an engaging personality and was a lot of fun to be around. Other men looked up to him. I could see that especially on the golf course. About that in time.
I really don't know when my father started drinking but I'm sure it was real early. Eighteen was old enough for beer in his day. He was a Marine-had the Marine Corp emblem tatooed on his arm. He was a partier. He had plenty of charm because my mother fell in love with him and they were married.
At what point you stop becoming a social drinker to an alcoholic I don't know. But it happened to my dad. As a child growing up around it, you really aren't paying attention to details that say "Yeah, that was the turning point." I can say that once you are immersed in the bottle, it is pretty evident to everybody. To this day, I know that I have been impacted by his alcoholism, but I don't know how for sure. I do drink beer but do go days without any alcohol. I know that alcoholism is hereditary and it worries me for both my boys because you just don't know. My baby brother I believe is an alcoholic or has a drug dependency or both. I hate that he has this burden.
Anyway, growing up with my dad was great when I was less than ten. The problems associated with his drinking were not ruling his life. The sad thing is that the memories after ten are the ones that stick in my mind. It really is not fair to him that I don't remember more good ones. I use to hate and despise him for losing his family due to his alcoholism. Now, maybe I realize what a strong disease that it is and how it was more powerful than him. It's more powerful than my brother currently.
Well, the lovely moments that define alcoholism, my dad and me. My earliest memory that things were not exactly normal was the ride to school in the morning. My sister and I would hop in the car and my dad would drive us to school. Some mornings he would ask me to open the glove compartment and hand him the bottle inside. He'd take a swig from the bottle, put the cap back on and tell me to put it back. When I asked him what it was he would reply it was fire water. Some afternoons when he'd pick us up from school, he'd come inside, grab a bottle of bourbon and pour himself a shot. He'd throw a shot back and rinse his mouth with water. Then he'd head back to work.
Around ten my dad taught me to play golf. Golf and my dad were one. Every weekend growing up my dad would head off early in the morning to play golf both days. He'd be back late afternoon so that the evening would be family time. My dad teaching me golf meant I was entering his weekend world. My dad was a scratch golfer. He could hit the ball a mile. I always loved watching him play because he was so very good. He knew it too. The weekend crew that my dad played golf with was anywhere from twenty to thirty strong. He was the one who decided teams and the bets and settled all the wagering. He was a wheeler dealer. His nickname was "Cosmo" after the card shark in the Beetle Bailey comic strip. Learning to play at first I was not allowed to play on the weekends. I'd go just to ride along and watch him play. By fourteen, I was ready for some action. My dad fronted the money to me for the betting. I loved it. Being part of the group was great fun. I was the youngest one. Most of the men were in their late twenties at the youngest. The majority were in their forties as was my dad. After golf they would gather at the country club for their card games. The betting continued and so did the drinking. At some point, I believe my dad enjoyed me being there more for the ride home. It meant he could drink more and not worry about getting stopped.
Some of the weekends I didn't go with him because of other things that I did-work, my friends, etc. When he came home one Saturday, I remember my mom had cooked meatloaf-one of his favorites. He was drunk and started ranting about not wanting meatloaf and why didn't she ask him what he wanted. It kind of struck a raw nerve with my mother. She picked the pan of meatloaf up and threw it into the sink. It was a porcelain dish and it shattered. The blue and white shards and the brown meatloaf flew about the kitchen. She picked up a bar stool and threw it down a number of times. One of the legs got bent and anytime anybody sat in it after that, it kind of rocked back and forth a little. Every time I sat in it, I remembered this moment. He ended passing out in bed less than a half hour later.
One night he had my little brother with him and they were late coming back home. They were suppose to be back by seven and it was around eight thirty. No cell phones back then. When my brother and dad showed up at the house, my brother was so proud of himself. He replied that dad couldn't see so he was the eyes getting them back home. My dad was blind drunk driving my brother home.
Another night he was so drunk that he couldn't walk once he got in the door. My mother was shouting at him as he crawled from the front door back to his bedroom. I use to help him back to his bed in earlier years but I got tired of the repeated act of drunkeness.
One year I went on a golf trip to Nags Head with my dad. He got so drunk he couldn't even take care of me. I remember seeing him drive by in his golf cart yelling and slurring something I couldn't understand. When I finished my eighteen holes and got back to the club house, I was told that they had taken my dad back to his room but they'd take care of me. I remember eating at the large table they had for dinner and feeling the other golfers looking at me with pity. I felt very embarrassed not just for me but my dad as well.
I went off for college in the mid seventies and didn't have to deal with the daily occurrences. My brother and sister said it got worse. I feel very sorry for them because I can't imagine worse. My mother did all the right things, AA, trips to detox centers, prayer,etc. Their marriage ended in divorce after twenty six years. I felt my mother held on for too long.
My relationship started to fade with my dad after his divorce from my mother. Like I said before, I hated him for the pain and anguish that he inflicted on his family. Only now do I realize that he was probably inflicting more pain and anguish on himself. He remarried to a woman I never met. He divorced her. He died of a heart attack in the same home he was born in in the year 2000. He had been dating a heroin addict. We believe that she was with him when he died and then left. She took things of value.
I loved my dad. My heart aches. It is a regret. Never give up.
Keith
Friday, May 27, 2011
Music to my Ears
Sometimes you listen to music and don't realize how much music influences you. I was cutting grass on Thursday and decided to use my iPod instead of just listening to the lawnmower engine. I decided to listen to Simon and Garfunkel. I remember hearing them for the first time in the late 60's at my grandparents house. My mother's two sisters would have the radio tuned to a station that played their music. I do believe their music is timeless. I never tire of hearing the lyrics and the music.
Top Simon and Garfunkel songs that I like-The Sound of Silence, Scarborough Fair, Mrs. Robinson, The Boxer, Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Cecelia, El Condor Pasa and My Little Town. Really, poetry set to music.
On Tuesday I was at the gym and picked totally different music to workout. The Dropkick Murphys were my motivation. They are a punk rock irish band. First heard them playing a baseball video game. They had a song that played in the background of the game. Tessie was the title of the song. It was about the Bosox. Took my two sons to see them play at Toad's Place(Now the Hat Factory). I almost got in a fight with someone I wouldn't let in front of me. Good times. I finished off my workout with a song by the Muse called Uprising. Probably my favorite song right now. James Durbin on American Idol did a great job singing it on Idol.
In my teen years-okay, even now, I love Alice Cooper. In the early seventies, I took my brother and our cousin to an Alice Cooper concert. They were either twelve or thirteen at the time. It was their first concert. Alice puts on a show. Watching my brother and cousin stand on their seats and yell and scream till they were hoarse was great. They were totally caught up in the show. I enjoyed just seeing how much they loved it. Both of them loved music and had their own Kiss band.
There are songs that you hear today and it will transport you back to a memory. It can be good or bad. Many a time I remember hearing a song and closing my eyes and reliving that moment of time as if it was right then and there. Tom Petty reminds me of working at Busch Gardens during college. Sitting in my car in the parking lot at night after work just hanging with my fellow workers listening to Damn the Torpedoes. Good times.
Funerals. Every time I hear Amazing Grace I think of all my family that has passed away. It is always sung either at the service or at the gathering afterwards. It can bring tears to my eyes.
For years every time I'd go to Nags Head I'd have to listen to Jimmy Buffet to get that beach mood in high gear. I smell the salt air every time I hear Margaritaville.
Both my boys love music. They don't love the same type. My oldest is more top 40- Lady Gaga, Kings of Leon, Vampire Weekend, etc. My youngest is rap- T Payne, Lil Wayne, and other artists I can't even name. I like a little of both but have my own genre considering old school rock and roll.
Well, it's only rock and roll but I like it. It's better to burn out than fade away. Bye, bye miss American pie, drove my chevy to the levy but the levy was dry. And good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye..........
Keith
Top Simon and Garfunkel songs that I like-The Sound of Silence, Scarborough Fair, Mrs. Robinson, The Boxer, Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Cecelia, El Condor Pasa and My Little Town. Really, poetry set to music.
On Tuesday I was at the gym and picked totally different music to workout. The Dropkick Murphys were my motivation. They are a punk rock irish band. First heard them playing a baseball video game. They had a song that played in the background of the game. Tessie was the title of the song. It was about the Bosox. Took my two sons to see them play at Toad's Place(Now the Hat Factory). I almost got in a fight with someone I wouldn't let in front of me. Good times. I finished off my workout with a song by the Muse called Uprising. Probably my favorite song right now. James Durbin on American Idol did a great job singing it on Idol.
In my teen years-okay, even now, I love Alice Cooper. In the early seventies, I took my brother and our cousin to an Alice Cooper concert. They were either twelve or thirteen at the time. It was their first concert. Alice puts on a show. Watching my brother and cousin stand on their seats and yell and scream till they were hoarse was great. They were totally caught up in the show. I enjoyed just seeing how much they loved it. Both of them loved music and had their own Kiss band.
There are songs that you hear today and it will transport you back to a memory. It can be good or bad. Many a time I remember hearing a song and closing my eyes and reliving that moment of time as if it was right then and there. Tom Petty reminds me of working at Busch Gardens during college. Sitting in my car in the parking lot at night after work just hanging with my fellow workers listening to Damn the Torpedoes. Good times.
Funerals. Every time I hear Amazing Grace I think of all my family that has passed away. It is always sung either at the service or at the gathering afterwards. It can bring tears to my eyes.
For years every time I'd go to Nags Head I'd have to listen to Jimmy Buffet to get that beach mood in high gear. I smell the salt air every time I hear Margaritaville.
Both my boys love music. They don't love the same type. My oldest is more top 40- Lady Gaga, Kings of Leon, Vampire Weekend, etc. My youngest is rap- T Payne, Lil Wayne, and other artists I can't even name. I like a little of both but have my own genre considering old school rock and roll.
Well, it's only rock and roll but I like it. It's better to burn out than fade away. Bye, bye miss American pie, drove my chevy to the levy but the levy was dry. And good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye..........
Keith
Thursday, May 26, 2011
God
I have had a very up and down relationship with God. It seems generally speaking when there are times of stress, God is called upon or part of my daily life and when things are going great- not so much. About two months ago, I bought a book by Norman Vincent Peale- "The Power of Positive Thinking". I had read this book in my twenties but got little of value out of it but saw it on sales are B&N and had to read it again. I highly recommend this book to everyone. It was written in the late 50's, but is relevant no matter what year.
So, me and God. I was raised a Catholic-cradle Catholic I believe is the term. Church was a part of my life from the git go. My mother's parents were devout Catholics. They went to church every Sunday, would have the priest over for Sunday dinner and had all the trappings of a home filled with faith. My grandfather read the bible daily. His bible became so worn and torn from the readings it looked awesome. I dare not venture how many times he read the bible but he probably had memorized and could recite quite a bit verbatim. My grandmother was involved in the church choir and can remember hearing her voice above all others when the choir would sing. I guess she wanted to make sure God heard her. He did. Their house had the painting of the Last Supper in the dining room. Palms from Palm Sunday were on the mantle. Crosses hung from the wall. It definitely was a Christian home.
I was an altar boy. When I started we had to memorize our prayers in Latin. Latin was still used in the Mass. I'd have to get up early and get to church to prepare for the service. I really enjoyed it. I remember which priest used lots of wine with little water and vice versa. I remember tasting that wine during a weak moment of curiosity when the priest wasn't there in the sacristy. It was sort of a fraternity with my fellow altar boys. For the big services, Christmas or Easter you could have ten plus alter boys involved.
A little side note. I remember going to church with my mother when she'd be running a little late. Her hair was always perfect. But, sometimes she'd forgo putting on a dress and just wear her full slip. Yes, she'd have her coat on buttoned to the top. I was always amused by this.
I continued going to church weekly till I was a sophomore in college. Can't tell you why I stopped but I did. Being in your twenties and away at school, I believe rejecting or changing to feel more independent may have been part of the reason. Being plain lazy could have as well.
At this point I lost my religion.
Marriage. What are you going to do? I found my religion.
Children. What are you going to do? I found my religion.
Once I had a family, religion did become part of my life again. My oldest boy attended seven years of Catholic grade school that he loved. My youngest spent two years there until they wanted to hold him back due to his rambunctious behavior. All learning disabilities at this school were behavioral. Bunch of bunk. Story for another day.
Once my boys left their Catholic school, we sort of let slip the weekly attendance of Mass. It wasn't convenient I guess or important. This I regret to this day. Based on my upbringing, I believe a strong foundation of faith will stay with you regardless of whether you practice your faith actively or not. Since this point, my boys have not felt a need to practice their faith. My fault. My youngest had mentioned on occasion about going to church but I didn't seize the moment and say "Yeah".
Fast forward to today. I have started to go back to church. I really enjoy it. I still know my lines and it feels comfortable. I can't go every week because of my work schedule but do when I can. The woman I am seeing goes with me and that makes me feel great. She is a Methodist but is willing to go with me to a Catholic church. I feel special that she does this for me. She is a member of another church so, going with me says a lot about her.
Reading the book aforementioned, it makes me think about God a lot. How I really do need Him in my life. The world is a lot crazier place than when I grew up so I need all the support I can get. There is no one greater than God. I now pray daily just through spoken thought and ask for what is best for me and my family. It is very difficult being positive all the time and I struggle with it often. The path of least resistance is always negative.
So, I could argue God's existence but why? I know that as I look around me that there is a Divine Being responsible for it all. Life-how great is this miracle? Watching my sons being born was a religious experience. Call me simple but my belief in God has no down side. Following the Ten Commandments certainly won't make my life miserable.in fact, following His teachings may enable me to make others happier!
I'm not a God on sleeve type of person. I just want to try to live a good life. I want God by my side. I have had Him beside me all the time, I have just been selective in when I want Him. I don't want to anymore. May God bless you.
Keith
So, me and God. I was raised a Catholic-cradle Catholic I believe is the term. Church was a part of my life from the git go. My mother's parents were devout Catholics. They went to church every Sunday, would have the priest over for Sunday dinner and had all the trappings of a home filled with faith. My grandfather read the bible daily. His bible became so worn and torn from the readings it looked awesome. I dare not venture how many times he read the bible but he probably had memorized and could recite quite a bit verbatim. My grandmother was involved in the church choir and can remember hearing her voice above all others when the choir would sing. I guess she wanted to make sure God heard her. He did. Their house had the painting of the Last Supper in the dining room. Palms from Palm Sunday were on the mantle. Crosses hung from the wall. It definitely was a Christian home.
I was an altar boy. When I started we had to memorize our prayers in Latin. Latin was still used in the Mass. I'd have to get up early and get to church to prepare for the service. I really enjoyed it. I remember which priest used lots of wine with little water and vice versa. I remember tasting that wine during a weak moment of curiosity when the priest wasn't there in the sacristy. It was sort of a fraternity with my fellow altar boys. For the big services, Christmas or Easter you could have ten plus alter boys involved.
A little side note. I remember going to church with my mother when she'd be running a little late. Her hair was always perfect. But, sometimes she'd forgo putting on a dress and just wear her full slip. Yes, she'd have her coat on buttoned to the top. I was always amused by this.
I continued going to church weekly till I was a sophomore in college. Can't tell you why I stopped but I did. Being in your twenties and away at school, I believe rejecting or changing to feel more independent may have been part of the reason. Being plain lazy could have as well.
At this point I lost my religion.
Marriage. What are you going to do? I found my religion.
Children. What are you going to do? I found my religion.
Once I had a family, religion did become part of my life again. My oldest boy attended seven years of Catholic grade school that he loved. My youngest spent two years there until they wanted to hold him back due to his rambunctious behavior. All learning disabilities at this school were behavioral. Bunch of bunk. Story for another day.
Once my boys left their Catholic school, we sort of let slip the weekly attendance of Mass. It wasn't convenient I guess or important. This I regret to this day. Based on my upbringing, I believe a strong foundation of faith will stay with you regardless of whether you practice your faith actively or not. Since this point, my boys have not felt a need to practice their faith. My fault. My youngest had mentioned on occasion about going to church but I didn't seize the moment and say "Yeah".
Fast forward to today. I have started to go back to church. I really enjoy it. I still know my lines and it feels comfortable. I can't go every week because of my work schedule but do when I can. The woman I am seeing goes with me and that makes me feel great. She is a Methodist but is willing to go with me to a Catholic church. I feel special that she does this for me. She is a member of another church so, going with me says a lot about her.
Reading the book aforementioned, it makes me think about God a lot. How I really do need Him in my life. The world is a lot crazier place than when I grew up so I need all the support I can get. There is no one greater than God. I now pray daily just through spoken thought and ask for what is best for me and my family. It is very difficult being positive all the time and I struggle with it often. The path of least resistance is always negative.
So, I could argue God's existence but why? I know that as I look around me that there is a Divine Being responsible for it all. Life-how great is this miracle? Watching my sons being born was a religious experience. Call me simple but my belief in God has no down side. Following the Ten Commandments certainly won't make my life miserable.in fact, following His teachings may enable me to make others happier!
I'm not a God on sleeve type of person. I just want to try to live a good life. I want God by my side. I have had Him beside me all the time, I have just been selective in when I want Him. I don't want to anymore. May God bless you.
Keith
My boys
It is very hard writing about my two sons because they always emotionally charge me. I have a hard time being objective or viewing them from an arms length. I never knew the depth of emotion that comes with being a parent. When you love someone and marry, it can end. It did with me. However, the love for your children doesn't change.
When my boys were young and totally reliant on their parents for everything, I always felt in control. I can solve this problem or that, I can console or hug away any problems. I can protect them from all dangers or harm.
Then, something happens. They continue to age. Those single digit years become double digits. Then they are teenagers. Then they hit 20. I remember those years for me. I was smarter then than I am now. So, by default, my sons are now smarter than me since they're in their twenties. I say this because I'm not happy with my current relationship with my sons. I just don't feel that there's any depth to our relationship. It is my issue. They probably aren't looking for anything from me but me just being dad.
My relationship with my father was marred by his alcoholism. He taught me to play golf and we did bond during my teenage years playing golf together. For this, I'm eternally grateful. It keeps good memories of my dad in my head and not just the bad ones. I really lost all touch with my father while I was in my early thirties. I really had no true relationship with him since I went away to college. This bothers me to this day. A relationship is two ways and I was remiss in trying to continue to foster one with my father.
Thus, as I sit here today, I want so bad to make sure that I am always a part of my sons lives. I don't always do the right things for them, whether today or in the past. I know that this will be true in the future as well. But, I want to be their dad-not a friend but dad. My belief is that they are my responsibility for life. Their free time comes when I'm pushing up daisies. I want to fill the role that my mother filled for me. I didn't always appreciate my mother but I have a renewed respect for all she did or didn't do at times.
The one thing that I can and will continue to do is love my boys all the time. I know they know this regardless of the differences that we have and will face. I hope that they will one day say that dad was a good dad. That's my eternal happiness.
Keith aka dad or pops
When my boys were young and totally reliant on their parents for everything, I always felt in control. I can solve this problem or that, I can console or hug away any problems. I can protect them from all dangers or harm.
Then, something happens. They continue to age. Those single digit years become double digits. Then they are teenagers. Then they hit 20. I remember those years for me. I was smarter then than I am now. So, by default, my sons are now smarter than me since they're in their twenties. I say this because I'm not happy with my current relationship with my sons. I just don't feel that there's any depth to our relationship. It is my issue. They probably aren't looking for anything from me but me just being dad.
My relationship with my father was marred by his alcoholism. He taught me to play golf and we did bond during my teenage years playing golf together. For this, I'm eternally grateful. It keeps good memories of my dad in my head and not just the bad ones. I really lost all touch with my father while I was in my early thirties. I really had no true relationship with him since I went away to college. This bothers me to this day. A relationship is two ways and I was remiss in trying to continue to foster one with my father.
Thus, as I sit here today, I want so bad to make sure that I am always a part of my sons lives. I don't always do the right things for them, whether today or in the past. I know that this will be true in the future as well. But, I want to be their dad-not a friend but dad. My belief is that they are my responsibility for life. Their free time comes when I'm pushing up daisies. I want to fill the role that my mother filled for me. I didn't always appreciate my mother but I have a renewed respect for all she did or didn't do at times.
The one thing that I can and will continue to do is love my boys all the time. I know they know this regardless of the differences that we have and will face. I hope that they will one day say that dad was a good dad. That's my eternal happiness.
Keith aka dad or pops
Friday, May 20, 2011
Politics- Is there anybody out there?
I love politics. I am definitely a political junkie. My grandfather was big with local politics in Hopewell and I still remember him getting local poll number results called in to him as a child. This was the 60's-a little different that the ways of today. He was a lifelong Democrat and really believed in it's values. At my age back then, if he was a Democrat, then so was I.
Flash forward to today and I have no political affiliation. I'm part of that big lumped together independent group that both the Democrats and Republicans are so frantically trying to persuade to win their next election. My current leanings are more conservative than liberal. My basic premise is that you are responsible for yourself. Acknowledging that there are circumstances that can devastate people's lives, government intervention can be a limited option. However, the government's money is my money. I do have a problem with me giving my money to government and then they decide how to spend it.
Currently they talk about the debt ceiling in numbers that I can't fathom personally but the politicians throw out as if they are an every day number. Truthfully, I don't think the politicians can fathom the numbers. If they could, there'd be no call to raise the debt ceiling. Banks decide whether I'm going to get more credit. They base it upon my income, my credit rating, etc. If my financial scoresheet looked like the government's, they'd be calling my debts due immediately. It is so much more fun and irresponsible spending other people's money.
I look on the political landscape and try to find somebody that I think could provide real leadership and direction for our country. I keep drawing blanks. I see polished bubble heads who have scripted their thoughts so carefully that they sound artificial. I do love the fact that Donald Trump was involved for a while. He was refreshing regardless of how pompous he is. When he talked, you always heard the Donald, not political handlers scripting the verbiage. He would've made a bad choice to be president because I believe his ego would have always come first.
Obama is in the same boat. He is driven by ego. I acknowledge that you must have self confidence to tackle the enormity of the job, but do it without it being so evident every time you appear before the cameras. Obama is a professional politician. His background suggests that when he was asked as a child "What do you want to be when you grow up Barack?" he answered politician as if it an occupation.
Every politician has the answers to all our problems. They spend more time debating them than really solving them. Depending on whether you are from the left or the right, the solution can be polar opposites. Consensus, compromise, meeting in the middle-what a bunch of hogwash. The party in power gets their way-period. Lately however, the Democrats or Republicans cant even agree within their own parties. What's that word they use with "cluster" sounds like buck.
Yet, with this new level of incompetence, you, me, the country will survive. It's almost as if it doesn't matter what the politicians do, wait till next election cycle and will get a new set of professional politicians.
I guess I love politics because their is so much drama. Being male, I can't suppose to watch soaps but I can watch the soap opera that is our government. God bless these United States.
Keith
Flash forward to today and I have no political affiliation. I'm part of that big lumped together independent group that both the Democrats and Republicans are so frantically trying to persuade to win their next election. My current leanings are more conservative than liberal. My basic premise is that you are responsible for yourself. Acknowledging that there are circumstances that can devastate people's lives, government intervention can be a limited option. However, the government's money is my money. I do have a problem with me giving my money to government and then they decide how to spend it.
Currently they talk about the debt ceiling in numbers that I can't fathom personally but the politicians throw out as if they are an every day number. Truthfully, I don't think the politicians can fathom the numbers. If they could, there'd be no call to raise the debt ceiling. Banks decide whether I'm going to get more credit. They base it upon my income, my credit rating, etc. If my financial scoresheet looked like the government's, they'd be calling my debts due immediately. It is so much more fun and irresponsible spending other people's money.
I look on the political landscape and try to find somebody that I think could provide real leadership and direction for our country. I keep drawing blanks. I see polished bubble heads who have scripted their thoughts so carefully that they sound artificial. I do love the fact that Donald Trump was involved for a while. He was refreshing regardless of how pompous he is. When he talked, you always heard the Donald, not political handlers scripting the verbiage. He would've made a bad choice to be president because I believe his ego would have always come first.
Obama is in the same boat. He is driven by ego. I acknowledge that you must have self confidence to tackle the enormity of the job, but do it without it being so evident every time you appear before the cameras. Obama is a professional politician. His background suggests that when he was asked as a child "What do you want to be when you grow up Barack?" he answered politician as if it an occupation.
Every politician has the answers to all our problems. They spend more time debating them than really solving them. Depending on whether you are from the left or the right, the solution can be polar opposites. Consensus, compromise, meeting in the middle-what a bunch of hogwash. The party in power gets their way-period. Lately however, the Democrats or Republicans cant even agree within their own parties. What's that word they use with "cluster" sounds like buck.
Yet, with this new level of incompetence, you, me, the country will survive. It's almost as if it doesn't matter what the politicians do, wait till next election cycle and will get a new set of professional politicians.
I guess I love politics because their is so much drama. Being male, I can't suppose to watch soaps but I can watch the soap opera that is our government. God bless these United States.
Keith
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
My mother
Every man has been influenced by his mother. For the most part, she is our first contact with the fairer sex. She is instrumental in how we are raised. In this case, I hit the jackpot. I can't imagine a better mother than mine. Mother's day has just pasted and it makes me remember her. Susan G Komen run for breast cancer has just occurred and those two events go hand and hand with my mother.
My mother died of breast cancer in 1996. She was only 58 years old and retired from the federal government after 30 plus years of service. She had been retired only two years. Really sucks when you finally retire and claim all your time for yourself and then cancer takes it away. I don't believe I have still come to grips with the impact this has had on my life. I still get teary-eyed every time I think about her. It has been 15 years.
At her work she was thought of in the highest regard. She was the highest ranking civilian at Bellwood-a defense supply post in south Richmond. She is in the Defense Department Hall of Fame for her service and the day care center at Bellwood is named in honor. To say she excelled at work is an understatement. She did not have a college degree. Nowadays, I do not believe she would have been given the same opportunity. Growing up I resented her work on many occasions because she would come home, cook supper and then retire to her bedroom to do more work. She wouldn't refuse my interruptions but once I left her room, she'd go right back to her work. Her work ethic was second to none. Career-wise she was a fantastic role model.
Her personal life was a little more complicated. She married young at 19 to a man 6 years older. He was a man's man. If you wanted to have fun and live it up, he was a good choice. This man was my father. He was or became an alcoholic. This caused major upheavals in the family circle. Our family circle consisted of my parents, me, and a younger sister and brother. Needless to say, growing up around alcoholism and being in the midst of it's destruction on marriage and family was not fun. I do believe that this to some extent, drove my mother to immerse herself in her work more and more.
My mother was my rock. If I needed a shoulder to lean on, she was there. If I needed to vent about anything, she was there. If I needed money to survive, she was there. If I needed anything, she was there. In some cases I took this for granted because she always was there for me. I realized this when she died. Too late. It makes me a little goofy with my boys because I know that my journey can end at any time and I don't want to regret the time or lack of time with my boys. They don't understand this and I wouldnt have at their ages either. In your twenties you're living forever and so are your parents.
When I was 16 I was able to purchase Playboy magazines at the local 7-11. Needless to say I did not want anybody in the family to know of my collection. I hid them under mattress and in my closet. Safe and secure for sure. Well, I came home one afternoon and my mother and sister were acting very giddy. I found it very strange. They wanted me to go in my bedroom. They were beside themselves. When I entered my bedroom, all the centerfolds from all my issues were hanging on the walls of my room in their full glory. Needless to say they were laughing and thought this was great. I wasn't so enthusiastic. But, this was my mother.
As she lay dying on her bed at home before her final days in the hospital, she would talk with me about the family. Who was going to do alright and who she worried about. It wasn't about the cancer or herself, it was about the family's well being. I use to cry so much during these times that I rely my tear ducts would dry up. Losing my mother so young was the worse thing that has happened to me. I hope it remains the worse because it tore me to pieces.
I think about how lucky I have been to have my mother mine. God certainly blessed me with her. I feel privileged having her for my mother. Every day I think about her and just wish I could see and talk to her again.
I loved my "Doots"-my nickname for my mother
My mother died of breast cancer in 1996. She was only 58 years old and retired from the federal government after 30 plus years of service. She had been retired only two years. Really sucks when you finally retire and claim all your time for yourself and then cancer takes it away. I don't believe I have still come to grips with the impact this has had on my life. I still get teary-eyed every time I think about her. It has been 15 years.
At her work she was thought of in the highest regard. She was the highest ranking civilian at Bellwood-a defense supply post in south Richmond. She is in the Defense Department Hall of Fame for her service and the day care center at Bellwood is named in honor. To say she excelled at work is an understatement. She did not have a college degree. Nowadays, I do not believe she would have been given the same opportunity. Growing up I resented her work on many occasions because she would come home, cook supper and then retire to her bedroom to do more work. She wouldn't refuse my interruptions but once I left her room, she'd go right back to her work. Her work ethic was second to none. Career-wise she was a fantastic role model.
Her personal life was a little more complicated. She married young at 19 to a man 6 years older. He was a man's man. If you wanted to have fun and live it up, he was a good choice. This man was my father. He was or became an alcoholic. This caused major upheavals in the family circle. Our family circle consisted of my parents, me, and a younger sister and brother. Needless to say, growing up around alcoholism and being in the midst of it's destruction on marriage and family was not fun. I do believe that this to some extent, drove my mother to immerse herself in her work more and more.
My mother was my rock. If I needed a shoulder to lean on, she was there. If I needed to vent about anything, she was there. If I needed money to survive, she was there. If I needed anything, she was there. In some cases I took this for granted because she always was there for me. I realized this when she died. Too late. It makes me a little goofy with my boys because I know that my journey can end at any time and I don't want to regret the time or lack of time with my boys. They don't understand this and I wouldnt have at their ages either. In your twenties you're living forever and so are your parents.
When I was 16 I was able to purchase Playboy magazines at the local 7-11. Needless to say I did not want anybody in the family to know of my collection. I hid them under mattress and in my closet. Safe and secure for sure. Well, I came home one afternoon and my mother and sister were acting very giddy. I found it very strange. They wanted me to go in my bedroom. They were beside themselves. When I entered my bedroom, all the centerfolds from all my issues were hanging on the walls of my room in their full glory. Needless to say they were laughing and thought this was great. I wasn't so enthusiastic. But, this was my mother.
As she lay dying on her bed at home before her final days in the hospital, she would talk with me about the family. Who was going to do alright and who she worried about. It wasn't about the cancer or herself, it was about the family's well being. I use to cry so much during these times that I rely my tear ducts would dry up. Losing my mother so young was the worse thing that has happened to me. I hope it remains the worse because it tore me to pieces.
I think about how lucky I have been to have my mother mine. God certainly blessed me with her. I feel privileged having her for my mother. Every day I think about her and just wish I could see and talk to her again.
I loved my "Doots"-my nickname for my mother
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A little experiment
I've never attempted to start a blog before but find it intriguing. My oldest son has had his own blog for a while and I guess it has motivated me to start my own. I have not laid out some grand plan of what I hope to accomplish with this blog or how often I will post a story, comments or anything else. I would say my purpose is to express myself in an anonymous sort of way yet potentially intimate in it's content. I am not looking for a certain number of followers, however, if I had no one after a couple of months, my ego would probably take a hit.
As an introduction, I am a 53 year old man who has two sons aged 20 and 24. The oldest just graduated from college- amen. The youngest is playing baseball for a living with the cubs organization. They are my world whether they like it or not. It's funny that as much as I want to be there for them and be involved, they want to control my time and involvement. I don't think that I'm that obnoxious but it is what it is.
As you may assume, I am divorced after 23 years of marriage. Maybe a topic for another day. I am currently with a woman who I have been seeing for two years. Maybe a topic for another day.
My current work is as a manager of a fast food restaurant but it has been a wild and varied work history. I've been a district manager for a couple of restaurant companies, a food service director of a convenience store chain and a manager of a variety of different restaurants. I've also owned my own restaurant for three years.
This will serve as a starting point for me to hopefully post blogs on a regular basis. This is a start. I believe in always doing things that are outside your normal path. I don't think a lot of 53 year old men have blogs. I know I'm probably wrong, but, what the hey, they aren't me. Hope this at least piques your interest for new time.
Keith
As an introduction, I am a 53 year old man who has two sons aged 20 and 24. The oldest just graduated from college- amen. The youngest is playing baseball for a living with the cubs organization. They are my world whether they like it or not. It's funny that as much as I want to be there for them and be involved, they want to control my time and involvement. I don't think that I'm that obnoxious but it is what it is.
As you may assume, I am divorced after 23 years of marriage. Maybe a topic for another day. I am currently with a woman who I have been seeing for two years. Maybe a topic for another day.
My current work is as a manager of a fast food restaurant but it has been a wild and varied work history. I've been a district manager for a couple of restaurant companies, a food service director of a convenience store chain and a manager of a variety of different restaurants. I've also owned my own restaurant for three years.
This will serve as a starting point for me to hopefully post blogs on a regular basis. This is a start. I believe in always doing things that are outside your normal path. I don't think a lot of 53 year old men have blogs. I know I'm probably wrong, but, what the hey, they aren't me. Hope this at least piques your interest for new time.
Keith
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