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
Saturday, May 28, 2011
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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