Venus Flytraps are for Girls
About three months before my 8th birthday , shortly after my great fossil hunt, Dad came home in a great mood. He had transferred between exterminator companies , and as a result had gotten a small raise. Never being the type to save money for future emergencies Dad immediately went out and bought presents for Geno , John, Rose , and myself. Steve wasn't home as he spent most of his time with his girlfriend Kathy.
When Dad came in the door it was clear he was drunk. But for a nice change he seemed to be in a happy mood. Knowing he might regret buying us the presents when he sobered up we didn't waste anytime getting them away from Dad.
Dad told Geno and John to open their gifts first. They ripped the gift wrapping off ,and with smiles on both of their faces they saw Dad had given them each sling shots. I'm talking heavy duty monster sling shots here. In the bottom of each box came a tube of bb's. Mom looked very worried when she saw that. Looking towards me out of the corner of her eye she asked Dad, "Are you sure that's safe?"
Dad in his drunken exuberance mumbled, "What could go wrong?"
I felt vaguely nervous as John and Geno kept pretending to shoot me with their new gifts.
Rose's gift was next. Dad told her to be carefully opening her it. With great care Rose took the wrapping off the box. She opened the box to find a Venus Flytrap. Rose looked very puzzled.
"What the heck is this?" She looked like she was holding a soiled diaper instead of a plant.
Dad took the plant out of Rose's hands and put it gently on the coffee table. Smiling he leaned close to Rose."It eats bugs." Rose looked down at the plant with a greater appreciation.
" If you put a little raw hamburger in it's leafs it'll eat that too."
Rose was now smiling at the plant. Rose kept sticking her finger in the plant's leaves. It would snap on her fingers, and she'd make a ,"ouch" , noise. Then she'd do it again.
(The older I get the more appropriate it seems that Dad gave Rose that plant , instead of another Barbie doll.)
Dad told me to open my gift. With great eagerness I ripped the paper off. I looked my gift with great confusion.
"It's a dog food bowl."
Dad nodded at me smiling. He got up from the couch and staggered outside to his car. He came back holding a tiny little brown puppy. This thing was no bigger then one of his hands.
"I bought you a dog. It's a German Shepard." He handed me the little beast." You can name it anything you want ."
I looked at the drooling face in front of me. Vacant eyes looked my way , while it panted at me. Rose's plant was surely smarter then this thing. It started to lick it's private regions. Gross. I started to run a list of appropriate names in my head.
Vomit ? Nope. Slobber? Nope Pooper? Nope. Geno? Nope. Then it came to me. The perfect name.
Before I could say it ,Rose shouted out ,"Duke!"
Geno and John nodded. "Yeah Duke",Geno said.
Dad nodded and smiled. "Yeah Duke it is." He said, slurring each word.
"I thought I was naming the dog?"
"You waited to long. We don't have all day."
I looked at my "present". Duke? That was a royal name. A cool name. I liked Pig Face much better. Just then the little beast urinated on me. Everyone laughed. "You better clean that up", Dad said.
Laughing ,Geno and John ran outside to shoot things with their sling shots. Rose ran out to get some bugs to feed to her plant. Mom and Dad got up and headed for the kitchen. "Remember it's your dog. You have to take care of him."
That's what I was afraid of.
I knew what that meant. While Geno and John got to shoot every moving thing passing our back yard , and Rose had the coolest plant in the world , I was going to have to tend to this little brown turd named Duke. First I was going to have to house train him, then take him outside at 3 in morning when he was crying by the door. Then everytime he made a mess or chewed up Dad's shoes, I was going to get yelled at.
"Tom look what your dog did", was going to be something I would hear a lot of in the near future.
I know. Most young boys my age would be thrilled with getting a dog. But you must understand how my family worked. In giving the dog to me , Dad made sue that no one else would be helping to care for the little mutt. Anytime it needed anything my name would be called out. If it pooped in the house , my brothers and sister would hunt me down wherever I was, in order that I clean it up. They understood that if they helped even once , that Mom and Dad would say something like ,"That's nice you helped with Tom's dog." Then the next time I wasn't around , they might be called on to clean up the dog's mess. Hell I remember being dragged off the playground just of open up a can of Alpo dog food.
Did I mention that while running back and forth from the playground to the house I had to endure a hail of sling shot fire from my brothers. It got so bad they would take up ambush positions on my way home from school. With all the practice Geno and John had hitting a moving target , they became pretty good shots.
Then once in the house I had to listen to Rose and her gaggle of friends make a fuss over that plant. My sister never tired of putting small insects in the plant's claw like leaves. The flytrap was becoming engorged on all the food my sister was feeding it. I soon came to hate that plant as much as I did my little rodent masquerading as a dog. ( In all likely hood , I hated it because I was jealous it wasn't mine.) Meanwhile my "gift" would have taken a dump in Mom's shoe or something like that. One day the little animal even tore one of my Major Matt Mason space dolls to pieces
As a result of me tending to the creature's every need , and my sibling's ignoring it at all times, Duke bonded with me. It would follow me everywhere. When I sat on the couch to watch television it would curl up next to me. When I would sit in a chair reading a book , it would want to sit in my lap. At bed time it would lay on top of my blankets next to me. It got to the point when It would have to go out with me when I went to play. Going out with me made him so happy that I almost forgot the headache this little (but rapidly growing ) dog had caused me.
One day about 2 months after getting Duke , my family was sitting in the living room watching television after supper. I was laying on the floor with Duke, rolling a ball back and forth. The moment he saw my hand move he would pounce on the ball , his tail wagging. He would shake the ball a few times back and forth in his mouth, before dutifully coming back and dropping the ball in front of me. Then he would run a few feet in front of me waiting for my hand to move and the ball to head his way again. We did this all night.
It was at some point during all this that an actual fly landed on the Venus Flytrap. My Dad saw and silently motioned for everyone to watch. The fly moved closer and closer to the deadly trap. Rose smiled over the insects cruel fate. Then in a flash the clawlike leaves snapped over the helpless fly.
Rose's smile faded a brief second later when Duke leaped on top of the coffee table and pounced on the Flytrap. His jaws closed over the helpless plant and began to shake it back and forth. Dirt flew everywhere. Duke pulled it right out of it's pot. Rose screamed. Geno and John stared in stunned silence. Then Duke trotted over to where I was sitting and dropped the remains of the plant in front of me. He then ran a few feet in front of me waiting for either the ball or what was left of the flytrap to be rolled his way.
"He killed it",Geno muttered. Rose was now making little sobbing noises. Dad stood up wiping some dirt off himself.
"Bad dog", Mom said halfheartedly. She never did like that dreadful plant I would later learn.
Dad looked at me with a frown on his face."Look what your dog did. Clean this mess up."
That was one mess I was more then happy to tend to. I began to think maybe I was wrong about my dog after all. Maybe he was kinda cool all along?
The idea that Duke was an awesome dog was cemented in my head a little over a week later. On that cool fall day, I was outside playing with Duke when Geno and John decided to use me for target practice again. The first little projectile hit me in the butt. Before I could make a mad dash for the house , Duke took off after my two brothers. One second he was happily retrieving sticks I was throwing ,the next he was snarling and chomping after my brothers. For once they were making a mad dash to the back door, screaming in terror the whole way. John even dropped his sling shot. Sadly it was far more durable then Rose's Venus Flytrap. It would live to vex me again.
But from that moment I felt Duke was the most incredible coolest dog in all creation. I almost never left the house without my loyal dog next to me. Even when I rode my bike Duke would run along side of me. John and Geno no longer considered it open season on me. They were careful about even raising their voices around me.
For over the next year everytime Rose saw Duke she would give him a hateful glare.
And that just made me love my dog even more then I already did.

The Short and Sad life of My Tater Twister


Unlike most things in my life, my wedding was fairly disaster free. It was as perfect a day as I could have hoped for.
Angie looked stunning in her Wedding dress that she had made herself. My friends and family all showed up to celebrate our union , without anyone getting into any sort of altercation with anyone else. There was no drunken fool making a jackass out of himself with a lamp shade. Really what more could anyone ask out of your big day? Other then a Disk Jockey who seemed to know almost nothing about music the only bad experience I had was when a group of nieces and nephews decided to decorate our car. Not having any shaving cream or whipped cream to spray on our car my Mom got the bright idea that my nieces should use tub after tub of margarine.
They did a good job covering the car. It was so slick and greasy it was hard to grip the door handle to open the car door. One of our wedding guest drove into town and stole a squeegee from the gas station. It still took 20 minutes to get the window clean enough to see to drive in the rain. And with all that margarine the rain beaded off better then any wax job I've ever seen in my life. The worst was around noon the next day when I saw my car baking in the heat like a giant red potato.
Later that day, my brothers, sister, and my parents all posed for a family photo.



Angie and I spent the next week driving around visiting friends and relatives , with a car smelling vaguely like Parkay. Other then that we found ourselves settling in comfortably to our married life. In our kitchen sat all of the gifts that Most of our friends and relatives had given us. ( I'm still waiting for a gift from some of them. You know who you are.) I was particularly looking forward to using the Tater Twister we had gotten. I had never tried anything like it before. I was so eager to try it , I had already bought some potatoes. They sat on the counter next to the Twister awaiting their cruel fate.
Soon our first week of married life ended and we went back to work. For the first time in years there didn't seem to be another crisis looming over the horizon. Life was good. Angie and I were as happy as two people could be. Our son Ethan was getting healthier everyday and needing his baby monitor less. My Dad and I were getting along better then we had ever before. My job was incredibly undemanding.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well since you ask....
At 7 in the morning of Oct 5 1993, Ten days after we were married , I got off work and walked the whole block home to our first floor apartment. Angie had the day off so I could sleep as late as I wanted , and not worry about Ethan. ( During the last 4 months we had gotten used to awakening at the slightest beep from his monitor.) I was very hungry that morning but too tired to fix myself anything to eat. I asked Angie if she could cook me something special for lunch.
"I'll think about it", she told me.
In the next room Ethan did what he did best at 4 months. He slept. Angie laid in bed for a little talking with me. Around 8 she got out of bed . Soon I drifted off to a very peaceful slumber.
Almost 3 hours later I was half awoken by the sounds of my wife running back and forth in the kitchen and a strange burning smell. She must be cooking lunch, my half sleeping brain told me. I love my wife , I thought , but she's no cook. At one point I think I saw Angie run in front of the bedroom wearing a towel over her head with just a bra and a black denim skirt on.
"What are you doing," I mumbled very loudly into my pillow. I could faintly hear the sound of running water coming from the kitchen.
"The back porch is on fire!"
Not understanding in the slightest what she had just said , I mumbled again very loudly into my pillow, "Well cut it out." With that I went back to sleep.
For 90 seconds.
Finally Angie's words penetrated the fog of sleep in my brain. Throwing a purple t-shirt that said " I wish everyday were Father's Day!" and a pair of sweatpants on, I ran out to the back porch. Angie was pouring a pitcher of water on some smoldering leaves at the corner of the house. She wasn't wearing any shoes.
"I can't stop the smoke", she said " It was like this when I got out of the shower!". Still very tired , I looked around. In the yard behind us was a pile of burning leaves. Obviously some of those leaves had blown over towards my house. " I've been pouring pitcher after pitcher of water and it's still smoking!" I looked closer at the smoke. It seemed to be actually coming out of the corner beam of our house. I looked up about 3 feet above my head. The white paint on the corner beam was turning black.
" Look!" I pointed at the burning area. Angie looked up. "We've got to get Ethan out of here.!" Angie ran back into the kitchen to get Ethan. I followed close behind her. While she stopped to throw a shirt on, I ran to the living room and dialed 911. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Angie grabbing the baby and going out the front door. She left the baby monitor on the floor. After hanging up from 911, I called my parents who lived only a few blocks from my house. I told Mom that the sirens she was going to be hearing in a few seconds were coming to my house , but not to worry Angie and I had gotten out ok. I then ran out the front door where Angie stood on the sidewalk ,holding Ethan in her arms.
A police officer showed up and asked if everyone was out. Angie told him she wasn't sure about the two apartments upstairs. The officer ran upstairs and soon came down with the poor scared young woman who lived in one of the apartments above us. Leaving Angie in the front by the police car , I ran around to the back of the house to where all this had started. Smoke was now pouring out my back porch and kitchen window.
Why were the fire trucks taking so long , I thought. They were taking forever.
Truth be told, it was probably only a few minutes after I called but as anyone who's ever watched their house slowly catch fire can attest, time seems to move at a far different pace. Finally I could hear the sirens. Thank God, I thought. This might not be so bad after all.
At that moment my back porch and kitchen exploded in a fireball.
"Shit."
All I could think of that moment was of my poor little Tater Twister. We had never had the chance to make little tater rings together,and now we never would. I can only hope that sitting on my kitchen counter he went quickly.
My second thought was that the kitchen was right next to where Ethan slept. If Angie hadn't had been home that morning I might not have woke up in time to save him.
A great anger began to well up inside of me. Probably more anger then I had ever felt in my life. I turned around and looked at the pile of leaves that had been left burning. I looked around and saw the man who had left his fire unattended. He was now standing a few feet from his back door watching all my wedding presents go up in smoke , including my poor mourned Tater Twister. I started to walk over toward him with a small smile on my face. He must not have liked that smile because the moment he saw me he dropped the rake and ran into the house.
( Why was I smiling? I don't know. But whenever my Dad was truly truly angry with us as children he would smile. We were very frightened when he did that. Apparently I inherited that smile. Thank God I didn't inherit his temperament.)
After my little fire starter of a next door neighbor ran into his house I came to my senses. I looked around and could see Angie walking away from our burning house. Ethan was asleep in her arms. She was still in her bare feet.
"I'm getting Ethan out of here! I'm going to your parents!"
Before I could say anything , the fire trucks came tearing around the corner. Within moments they were battling the fire. At one point a younger fireman came out the back. He saw me standing there and motioned for me to come over.
"Yeah?"
"Are those your comic books" he said kind of eagerly.
A very puzzled look came over my face. "What?"
"Are those your comic books?"
"Uh...Yeah." Where the hell was he going with this?
"I threw a few blankets over them to protect them from the smoke and water. " That was very nice of him I thought. "Do you collect Marvel or D.C. ", he asked
"What.......Um ....Marvel." This was just getting silly. "Um...Could you like,....Try to safe some other stuff?"
"Oh Yeah . Sure." With that he ran back into my house.
Sadly that would not be the most surreal moment of the day.
Very quickly they got the fire under control , and I was soon walking though my wrecked apartment. They told me Ethan's room had been seconds from catching fire. Almost everything was ruined. The Kitchen and everything thing in it was completely destroyed.
Thankfully when I ran out of my bedroom I shut the doors behind me. Some of our clothes and all of our photo's were safe. And thanks to a very friendly fireman my comics survived. Among some other books that survived were Ethan's baby book. Only singed a little bit around the edges.
All of my family came by that day. By noon I was getting very tired of hearing people say,"Well at least no one got hurt."Tell that to the pile of melted plastic goo dripping down my charred kitchen counter that had been my Tater Twister,I thought.
At one point I bumped into the man who lived above us in the third apartment. He worked for the Housing Authority. He told me to stop by and he'd get my family emergency housing. I thanked him , and told him I'd be out. I wasn't crazy about the idea , but I badly needed a place to stay.
About an hour later ,still smelling of smoke I went out to the Housing Authority. He had me fill out some paperwork and then took me to the only available apartment they had left. ( He had taken the other one , since he was also out of a place to live..) As we walked up toward the place he told me that the area the apartment was in had a bad reputation , but that it had calmed down much lately. He walked up to the apartment door.
"You'll like this place."
He put the key in the lock and turned it. The door fell in off it's hinges and landed with a loud thud.
I stared blankly at the door on the floor for a second. "Now you will have that fixed won't you?"
That was the most surreal moment of the day.
Needless to say I did not get the apartment. I thanked the man for a second time that day and left.
I sent the rest of the day salvaging what I could ,and video taping the damage for a possible lawsuit against my firebug of a neighbor. ( It never happened. The fire Chief refused to say the leaf fire 20 feet and upwind of my backdoor could have caused the fire. " Maybe it was a bird dropping a cigarette butt?") Every wedding gift was gone or badly damaged. The Unity Candle Angie and I had lit at our wedding was blackened and melted badly.
" That's not a good sign", I said.
Red Cross gave Angie and I a check to go to Walmart and buy some new clothes. We went out and bought some essentials to get though the next few days. My sister said we could stay with her until we got back on our feet. ( Surely me staying at Rose's house is one of the signs of the apocalypse , I thought) reluctantly I agreed. That night when I showered the water turned black.
We stayed at Rose's for only 10 days before finding a new apartment.
With no Insurance we had to replace everything ourselves. I have never been without it since.
And in honor of my poor little Tater Twister I've never bought another one since.
Rest in peace little buddy.

House On The Rock


Yesterday for our wedding anniversary my wife and I went to the HOUSE ON THE ROCK . I purposely went to it with no idea what it was. I wanted to be surprised , and I was. Pleasantly so. I found it to be a place filled with wonder and awe. Parts of it made me feel like a kid again. If you're in Wisconsin and have a few hours to spare to walk though it , I highly recommend it.
Interesting things we saw on the trip there and back.
1. A car with Hawaiian license plates. ( Did they drive over?)
2. Three bald eagles.
3. A rainbow
4. A funeral home with a gaudy blue neon sign hanging over the front.
5. And my favorite,.......... Another building that was one half pizza joint, one half funeral home. ( I wonder if with every burial of a loved one do you get a free deep dish pizza?)






Unrelated Geek Stuff
This is my inner geek showing. But I read about a movie that almost was. Talk about Dream casting. My Heart breaks at the thought of this never happening. Usually when I read about some long abandoned movie project , I just think, "Oh Well." But the following is the saddest piece of lost movie news I've ever heard. It could have jump started superhero movies and comics years before Stan Lee came along.
I'll give you one little tidbit before you read it.
James Cagney as the Riddler and Humphrey Bogart as Two face

Curious?

My Son's Even More Eventful Second Day.


I woke up at 6 in the morning on May 18th 1993 , after having only a hour or so of sleep. I got out of the chair that I had slept in next to Angie's bed. She was still asleep so I quietly slipped out of her room and went to check on my baby , who was not quite 24 hours old. I asked the nurse how he was doing. She told me that for a baby 9 weeks early he was doing great. He wasn't out of the woods but they were hopeful. His biggest health concern was that his lung muscles weren't fully developed. He was actually using some of his stomach muscles to help himself breath. The Nurse told me that they were pumping pure oxygen into his incubator to make it easier for him to breath. She told me she was sure he was going to be ok.
"Have you thought of a name yet", she asked.
"Not yet. We are still going over a few", I replied.
"Well you have 48 hours."
I stared at her for a few seconds trying to restrain myself from screaming ,"OR WHAT!" I eventually went back to Angie's room and sat with her for a little bit until they brought her breakfast. A little after 7 the Doctor came in and told Angie that she would be released that night after supper. He told us that our baby would have to stay a few days at the minimum. He was worried about his breathing. Still nothing to worry about , he told us.
"Does he have a name yet?"
"Not yet."
"You have another 48 hours. No hurry."
I was a millisecond away from screaming ,"Or What" , when he added ,"By the way you two get a steak dinner tonight from the hospital before we release Angie. It's part of service here. We want to welcome your new family into the world."
That was cheesy I thought , but a free steak dinner is a free steak dinner. At around 8 I realized I had a lot of work to do, to get things ready for Angie and my unnamed baby to come home. I left Angie and went to see my landlord and told them I was going to need that new apartment as soon as possible. He told me he'd have it ready in a few days. After running a few more errands I went back to the hospital to have lunch with Angie. We ran though a few more baby names. The only one we didn't immediately discard was Ethan. We still needed to get a middle name but decided to work on that over our Steak dinner.
On the way out to run some more errands ,I bumped into my brother Steve. He was standing in front of the large glass window overlooking the baby. He looked very worried.
"Steve he's going to be ok. Don't worry." I glanced back at the nurses. The looks on their faces wasn't as reassuring as they were a few hours earlier.
Steve told me he had a bad dream the night before about the baby. In it, the baby had became very sick and was near death. As Steve told me his dream he looked very upset.
"Steve it's going to be ok. He's going to be ok." We stood there a moment staring at my child. He was getting more and more agitated. There was a least 6 wires attached to various parts of his body , and the nurses were constantly pricking him on the finger or toe for a little blood to run tests on. All in all the first 24 hours of his life were not the most peaceful. I looked up at the clock. It was 12.30 now.
"I have few more things to do before Angie comes home tonight. Want to ride with me?"
"No", said Steve. I'm going to stay here for a while."
When I came back at 2 in the afternoon ,Steve was gone. Before I could go to Angie's room the head Nurse took me aside. She told me that the baby's oxygen levels were dangerously low.
"There's nothing more we can do here for him." That is the one phrase no one wants to here from a health care provider. "We've contacted St. Francis Hospital in Peoria and we're going to airlift him to their Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. The Lifeline helicopter is on the way."
I was stunned. I had been worried, but never thought that it would get so bad they'd have to airlift him out of here. I stood there a moment not sure what to say.
"Do you want us to tell Angie?"
"No. I'll tell her", I said.
I told Angie. We both decided to drive down to Peoria as soon as the baby was aboard the helicopter. Angie started to get dressed , and I called my family , and Angie's mother. Within 15 minutes the maternity ward was filled with nervous family members wanting to see the baby before he was airlifted away. I noticed Steve wasn't there. I asked Kathy where her husband was. She said he was out when I called. I started towards Angie's room , to see if she needed help with anything when the nurse asked me for a final time, "Do you have a name yet for the baby?"
" Look we're kinda busy right now. I just want to make sure he gets down there ok right now."
" He should really have a name so they can keep track of him there. " She gave me a little smile."We don't him to get lost down there do we?"
" Lose him ?What sort of hospital are you sending him to ?"
Before anyone could say anything else Mom burst into tears.
" He deserves a name! Whatever happens to him , he deserves a name!"
"Ok. Ok." I went into Angie's room and we sat down and discussed it. I wanted his middle name to be some sort of family name. We ran the possible candidates and finally settled on my Mom's mother's maiden name. Montgomery.
It also had the added bonus of being the first name of Mr. Burns .
Angie and I came out to the hallway filled with family and told everyone the baby's name.
"Ethan Montgomery Hernandez."
My Mom broke down to even more tears. Angie started crying with her. Everyone said it was a fine name. The nurses were now happy because they could now fill out Ethan's birth certificate.
As we waited for the helicopter to arrive my Dad came up to me.
" Do you have enough for gas , and something to eat?"
"Yeah. We'll be ok."
Dad pulled out his billfold. "Here's $40. Just in case."
"Thanks Dad."
The nurses called me and Angie over to check out the birth certificate they had just printed out. Angie still crying a little looked at it.
"It's fine", she said. "Except Tom was born in Iowa and not Indonesia." Angie started laughing now. The nurses looked very embarrassed.
"we'll fix that."
Dad came up to me.
" Do you have enough for gas and something to eat?"
Didn't we already have the conversation?
"Yeah Dad. You already..."
" Here's $50. Just in case."
I looked at the $50. I couldn't take it, I thought. It would be wrong to take advantage of my Dad, who was obviously so worried he didn't know what he was doing. I put my hand on Dad's shoulder.
"Thanks Dad."
Outside the helicopter arrived. A nurse and another man jumped out of the helicopter and ran into the hospital. Soon they were at Ethan's side , getting his incubator ready for transport. We followed them outside as they put my son securely inside.
Before the helicopter took off Dad came up to me.
"Do you have enough money for a motel room and something to eat?"
I looked at Dad."Nope."
Dad gave me a check for $100.
"Here. Just in case."
" Thanks Dad."
The helicopter's blades began to rotate faster and soon I couldn't hear anyone over the roar. It lifted off , taking my son with it. I turned to everyone."Ok we're going. We'll call you when we get there."
Angie and I ran to our car and sped off . Other then stopping to get gas we went straight to Peoria. I was doing around 70 the entire way there. At one point Angie told me I should slow down.
"Honey if there's any reason to speed this is it. No cop in the world would give us a ticket."
We made great time driving there getting to Peoria in around 40 minutes. We parked at the emergency entrance of St Francis Hospital. There was someone waiting for us and he took us straight up to the 3rd floor Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. As soon as we got up there the nurse told us it be a few minutes before we could go in to see Ethan.
"Let's call home and let them know we made safely", I suggested. We went to a pay phone across the hall . Before I could call,I was shocked to see my brother Steve come running in to the room looking like a deranged Kramer from Sienfield
"Jesus Steve, where'd you come from?"
It took a while to piece Steve's story together
After we left for Peoria, Kathy drove my parents home. She then drove back to her house. Steve was working on one of his cars when she pulled up. She told Steve what had happened . Steve remembering his dream ran into the house and took a quick shower. Afterwards he dressed and ran out to his car and took off after us, a good 10 to 15 minutes after we had left. Steve traveling at something close to warp speed actually beat us to the hospital . He parked in front of the hospital by a sign that clearly said ," DO NOT PARK." The only reason we got to the unit before Steve did is we had an escort take us directly there. Steve not knowing where we were and too panicked to ask anyone ran though each floor until he found us.
I looked at Steve incredibly touched by what he did.
After that things calmed down considerably. Steve stayed with us for a few hours occasionally looking out the window to make sure that his car was still there, and not being towed away. ( I can only assume that when they saw Steve run into the hospital in such a panic, that they assumed it was a dire emergency.) Angie and I stayed over night until they told us it looked like Ethan was going to be ok. Our landlord was as good as his word and the new apartment was ready for us within a week.
Ethan stayed in the hospital almost 2 weeks , coming home on Saturday May 30th. Ethan was hooked up to a baby monitor that would beep every time his heartbeat or breathing would drop below a certain point. Being first time parents we were very nervous about Ethan's first night home. I told Angie I would stay up with him that first night.
I laid on the floor with Ethan next to me. Together we watched Star Wars. ( I know he liked it. He didn't need a diaper change once though the entire movie.) After the movie he fell fast asleep on my chest. I lightly touched is head. Everything became very clear to me that night. The past 5 years had not been the easiest for me. But I realized if I had done anything different in my life , he wouldn't exist. Suddenly my whole life made sense.
All that first night I kept looking at him and repeating very softly, "Oh Father. Oh Father."

The Hospital still owes me a steak dinner.

My Son's Eventful First Day


Thursday September 25 will be my 10th wedding anniversary. So in honor of that fine day I thought I would temporally skip 20 years of my life and talk about my oldest son's birth , and my first fiery days as a married man.
After going out with her for a few months, I proposed to my girlfriend Angie on a cold December night in 1992. We kept it a secret until we could find the perfect time to tell our families. A little more than one month later ,after the turn of the new year , Angie told me she was pregnant . Being a mature man of 28 who was engaged to the woman he loved more then anything, I took the news in stride.
I curled up in a fetal position in front of my television sure that life as I knew it was over. The Super Bowl was on , and I remember thinking clearly ,"Well this is the last time I'll get to watch the Super Bowl." The next day after I was done hyperventilating , Angie and discussed what we should do.
I told her that we should get married before the baby came. Angie always being the practical one suggested that we should concentrate on one thing at a time. We were completely unprepared for a child. So we should devote the next few months getting ready for him. After he was born , then we could concentrate on getting married.
In retrospect , I think Angie wanted to see what sort of Dad I was going to be. If I turned out to be a crappy Father she was going to boot my butt out the door. (She denies this)
Everyone was very pleased about the coming baby. My parents only problem was that they wanted us to get married immediately. They desperately tried everything they could to convince us to get married before the baby arrived. I held firm saying that we needed to get ready for the baby first. My Dad even showed up at my job to tell me he wouldn't help us at all with the baby , unless we got married right away. I thanked Dad for his concern but assured him we knew what we were doing. ( which was a lie. I still deep in panic mode, but I'd be damned if I told Dad that)
The baby's due date was August 1st. At the time I was living in a small one room apartment. I talked to my landlords and they told me they'd have a bigger apartment ready for me on June 15th. That would give me plenty of time to get it ready . Angie wanted to finish out her year of college before the baby came, so my small apartment would be fine until then. Everything was proceeding as well as could be expected.
Saturday May 15 Angie and I went to see the play CATS. All the way there she kept telling me how much the baby was kicking her. I put my hand on her belly and could feel him moving. The next night I went to work at 10 pm. Angie stayed that night in my apartment alone . She had finals the next day , so she would be leaving early the next morning for the hour drive to her school.
Around 6 in the morning , Angie stopped at my workplace to say ,"Hi", before she left for school. She told me she hadn't slept well the night before. I asked her if she was nervous about the test. She said no, but maybe she just had an upset stomach. I gave her kiss , wished her good luck , and watched her drive off towards school.
An hour later at 7 , I got off work. I walked home ,and got ready for bed. I hadn't gotten in bed yet , when there was a banging on my door. It was a lady who worked for my parents , Bonnie. She was outside pounding on my door screaming that Angie was in the hospital. My first thought was Angie was in a car wreck. "No", Bonnie screamed. "She's having the baby!"
I took Bonnie's car and drove to the hospital. I raced up to the maternity ward and found Angie. She looked very calm. Even the Nurses remarked on how calm she was. They said she wasn't acting like a woman in labor at all.( In truth she was more scared then she'd ever been in her entire life.) The Doctors told me she was going to have the baby 2 and 1/2 months early. Ready or not I was going to become a Father today.
At that moment on the television in Angie's hospital room , Sylvester the cat's son said ,,"Oh Father".
Soon my family began to fill the waiting areas and beyond. Everytime a Nurse would open the door my Dad was right there looking in to see what was happening. My only family members living in the area that wasn't there were Steve , and his son Kris. I asked Steve's wife where Steve was and Kathy(looking like she had been crying) said she didn't know, but was sure he'd show up soon. I looked at my watch and saw it was 9 in the morning. Wanting my nephew ,Kris to be there as soon as he could ,I called his high school from the nurses desk.
" Yes , my names Tom Hernandez, I and I was wondering if I could leave a message for my nephew, Kris Hernandez?"
" We don't take messages", the aged crone working in the school office spat back.
" Look lady , I'm at the hospital. My girlfriend's having our baby very prematurely. I was just wondering if you could let him know to come to the hospital when he gets off school?"
"We don't take messages!"
I was beginning to wonder if I was talking to a answering machine.
"Ma'am this is an emergency. I need you to.."
" We Don't Take Messages!"
"Damn it lady I just need you to,.......Hello? Hello?"
The old bitty hung up on me. Before I could call back and ask to speak to someone else , the Doctor in Angie's room was calling a second Doctor into her room. I hurried back to Angie.
"Is everything ok" I asked breathlessly.
The Doctors were laughing and pointing at the television. "Yeah , but Sally Jessy Raphael has women on who want to have sex with Bill Clinton."
I pointed at Angie."Can we please focus on her?"
"Oh she's fine", said her Doctor without looking in her direction.
I walked over to Angie. "Your taking this awfully well. I don't even see you having contractions."
"Oh I'm having them. They're less then 3 minutes apart."
I was a little puzzled. Women on Television were always screaming and cursing at the fathers for making them pregnant. " How come you're not screaming? Doesn't it hurt?"
Angie smiled at me. "I have a high pain threshold ."
And that's exactly when her hard labor began. She squeezed my hand so hard I thought it was going to pop off. The next 30 minutes seemed to last forever. The Doctors were now focused on Angie. (I had turned the TV off) Nurses ran in and out of the room. I realized that soon I was going to be a father. In my head I could hear the phrase ,"Oh Father" over and over again.. I tried my best to comfort Angie as the pain got worse for her. She did find much comfort in using my hand as a chew toy for the last 15 minutes of labor.
Then at 10.35 a.m. on May 17 Angie and I became proud parents of a 5 pound 3 ounce blue baby boy.
Blue? Why was my baby blue? I was fairly sure there were no blue people on my side of the family. The Nurses assured me that this was very common.
"Will it wear off?"
They all laughed and wanted to know what his name was.
In all the excitement , Angie and I didn't have any boy names ready. I told the Doctor we didn't have a name yet. He informed me we had 72 hours to name him. Or what I thought. The Name Police name him Myron ? The Nurses wanted to know what to call him.
"Sir. Or Mr Hernandez", I said.
By this point my little unnamed baby was already a healthy shade of pink. They put him in an incubator.
I went out and told my family that it was a boy. Steve was now there. Everyone congratulated me, and one by one they went in to see the baby, and Angie. I looked at Steve.
"Hey Steve, I called the school to let Kris know and they were really rude to me. You should say something to them."
Steve stared at me for a second. "I'll talk to them", he muttered.
The rest of the day was a blur. I called everyone I knew and told them the good news. At one point I went out and bought his first stuffed animal and a diaper bag that had Sylvester and his son on it. I told anyone I saw I was a Father. ("Oh Father") The Doctors were still a little worried since my baby boy was born so early, but so far everything looked fine.
Then around 2 in the afternoon I realized that my nephew Kris still didn't know what had happened. I looked in on Angie and the baby. They were both asleep. I slipped out of the hospital and drove to the high school where my nephew went. I walked in and went to the office. Sitting at the desk was a lady who if I didn't know better I might have confused with a mummified corpse.
"Excuse me could I talk to the Principal."
"What's your name" she barked at me.
I looked her straight in the eye. "Tom Hernandez."
She glared at me for a second and got up and went to the office behind her. A mousy looking man came out and walked over to me.
"Are you the one who cursed at this lady this morning?"
Lady? What lady ?What the hell was he talking about?
Oh I thought he must be talking about the old bitty. Instead of yelling about his rude secretary, I calmly explained the situation to him. I told him I just wanted Kris to know so he could go to the hospital when he got out of school. He stared at me as if trying to tell if I was telling the truth.
"Look you can call the hospital if you want" I said a little exasperated. Why were these people acting so strange?
The guy I was talking to thought for a moment and finally agreed to let me talk with my nephew. He walked me to his classroom , and called Kris out. Kris came out of the class looking very suspicious. The he saw me and smiled. I told him the baby came early, but so far everything was ok. The school official listened for a few moments , then satisfied I was telling the truth left me alone with Kris. I asked Kris why everyone was acting so weird.
Then he told me what had happened at school while Angie was in labor.
Kris had taken the Friday before off , as part of senior skip day. Steve and Kathy both knew and let him do it. He spent the day in Chicago with his girlfriend. Of all the seniors who skipped that day, Kris was the only one they called about. Kathy lied and said Kris was visiting a sick relative. They wanted the number. Kathy wouldn't give it to them.
So when Kris arrived at school around 8 in the morning on Monday , he found out he was getting many detentions for skipping. Kris thought this was unfair. He called his Mom , who in turn called the school. I don't know what was said but the old bitty on the phone made a big mistake.
She made Kathy cry.
Steve was at the school before Kathy had hung up. He screamed at the secretary for making Kathy cry. When the Superintendent and Principal came out Steve yelled at them. He yelled so loud Kris could hear in his classroom many rooms away. Steve was so mad he accused the two men of having a homosexual relationship. And the entire first floor heard him. Steve told the two scared men exactly what he thought they did when they were alone in the office together.( I can't say in this family friendly blog exactly what he said, but it involved monkey love.)
Before anyone could call the police or do anything Steve stormed out leaving 3 scared people in the office , and many laughing students in his wake.
2 minutes later I called and nicely asked if I could leave a message for Kris.
I couldn't have timed it better if I tried.
I went back to the hospital and spent the rest of the night there. Angie and I went over names , but so far couldn't find any we liked. That night I stayed in a chair next to her, getting very little sleep. Occasional I would get up and go look at my baby. In my head I kept hearing Sylvester the cat's son saying "Oh Father."
I promised my son that the next day would be much less eventful
MY NEXT BLOG; MY SON'S EVEN MORE EVENTFUL SECOND DAY.

You like me! You Really Like me!

To the only person who has provided a link to my blog ( Thanks a whole hell of a lot Mark), I shall now return the favor. Please keep in mind that she also called me Possibly mentally unstable .
All my family and friends agree that she is wrong.
The word possibly should not be there.

Thanks everyone.

My Baby Book



In a effort to do more research on these stories I've been asking my family questions on details that I've forgotten or was fuzzy on. So far no one has gotten suspicious on my sudden interest in family history. I'm sure that if anyone found out what I was doing they would be very upset. Not at the stories in general , but in how they were portrayed. For example Rose would agree with everything written in here , except when it came to her. Geno likewise would agree with anything in here except when it came to him. ( "I'm much cooler then that ", I can almost hear him say.) Mark would simply say ,"Tom bad, computer pretty , brain hurts".
Today I went over to my parents house in a bid to find more things to write about. In my blog I'm about to move my stories to a more unbelievable part of my life. In a effort to be as accurate as possible, I asked my Mom some questions trying not to bring up any of the more sensitive issues. Realizing that I should probable change the subject to something lighter, I asked Mom if I could go through the big brown box she keeps in the closet. It's filled with old photo's , newspaper clippings , reports cards , and old letters. A veritable treasure chest for me to plunder my family history with. Mom agreed I could look as long as I did it there. She didn't want me taking it out of the house.
So for two hours I stayed up in Mom's office ,going though this massive brown box. I soon became lost in memories. I found enough things to write 30 blogs. My Dad meeting with Lane Evans for the first time. My parents sending me off to a summer camp, only for me to find out it was a camp for troubled boys.(much wackiness happens.) My son Ethan's birth announcement. No day was more funny or weird then the day he was born unless it was the day after he born. I found ribbons I had won in 1st grade for reading the most books , and ribbons I had won in high school at art contests.
Then at the bottom of the box I saw it.
Baby's First Book .And written on the book cover "Tommy".
I gasped. What forgotten things would be in my baby book? I gently picked it up and opened it.
I was born at 5.32 a.m. on Dec 1st , during a snow storm.
Ok I already knew that. On the second and third pages it was simply my parents names , and my grandparents names. Nothing new there.
On the fourth and fifth pages were a list of my first visitors and the gifts they brought. I didn't know all that , but nothing I could blog about. On page six my weight until 3 months and the first time I walked (7 months). After that nothing.
No first words.
No favorite toys.
Nothing about my first Christmas or Halloween.
Nothing about my first birthday.
No memories at all.
I marched downstairs to the kitchen where Mom was.
"Hey Mom what was my first word?"
Mom leaned back in her kitchen chair. She looked lost in thought for a moment."Well I don't remember."
"What did I get for my first Christmas gifts?"
"I don't know." She said
"What did I dress up as for my first Halloween?"
"I don't remember,"she said more then a little agitated.
"Well maybe you would if you had finished this!" I tossed the book on the table. Mom picked it up.
" Oh look at that. Your first baby book."
" My first EMPTY baby book. Why didn't you finish it?"
" You were our fifth child. It just wasn't that important anymore. Something was always going on. I just never had the time."
Not important? Never had the time? I was getting a little ticked off here. These were my childhood memories after all that no one seemed to have the time to record.
"Ok", I said. " Anything going on now?"
"What?' Mom looked confused.
"Finish my book. I'll give you until Friday."
Mom was clearly not getting into the spirit of the thing."I don't remember any of this."
" Well neither do I. Make it up. I'll never know."
With that I walked out of the house. I sincerly doubt that Mom will even start on it. But it'll be good for her to sweat about it for a couple of days.
The moral of this story?
If you have a baby book, finish it before your 38 year old child comes storming down the stairs wanting to know who stole his baby memories.

My Mom gets a Secret Admirer

When I was 17 my Mom managed a private park. My "job" was to either card people coming into the park by the front gate , or the far more enjoyable job of watching the swimming area. Usually Mom would be the one carding people as they came in. One day An old boyfriend of Mom's came by. He had heard that we were living there and decided to stop by and say hi. Mom and him chatted away about old times. Mom called me out of the water to meet him. While Mom was introducing him to me , I tried to give him a glare Dad would be proud of . The old boyfriend (I don't remember his name. Lets just call him Jerkwad) introduced Mom and me to his wife and kids. He stayed at the park for a few hours and then wisely left before Dad came home from the office. My Mom seemed to be glowing in the midst of memories of Jerkwad. I looked very unhappy as I told my Mom ,"Maybe you shouldn't say anything to Dad about that geek."
Mom was very offended that I had called Jerkwad a geek. "He's a nice man ", she said.
My Mother has this unfortunate way about being honest and always telling the truth. So over supper that night she told Dad about Jerkwad stopping by. Dad showed me what a glare truly was that evening. "What did that geek want? Do you still have the hots for him?"
"He's not a geek!"
"Then why are you sticking up for him?"
Mom's earlier glow faded as she tried to convince Dad he was being jealous for no reason. "It was almost 30 years ago when we dated. He just wanted to say hello ."
"Maybe I should look up a few ex girlfriends. Just to say Hi. See how you'd like that?"
Dad spent the rest of the evening doing an impression of a 6 year old pouting. Mom went out of her way to show Dad he had nothing to be jealous about. She even promised to make him a chocolate pie the next day.
A couple of weeks went by and I soon forgot about Jerkwad. Then one day the florist stopped by with a dozen red roses for my Mom. Mom was thrilled. Dad hadn't given her flowers in ages. She looked at the card. All it said was "thinking of old times" Mom thought it was odd that Dad wouldn't sign the card. She happily put the flowers in a vase and showed them to everyone who stopped by.
That night Dad came home and asked where the hell the flowers came from.
"Didn't you send them?"
"If I sent them would I be asking who sent them?"
Dad was sure it was Jerkwad. "After 30 years he just thinks he's going to waltz on in here and steal my wife?" Dad looked like he was going to blow a gasket. Mom insisted that wasn't going to happen. She made Dad his favorite dinner (Steak) and later had me watch the front gate while her and Dad went for a nice romantic drive. Dad calmed down , and we all had a nice laugh about it.
until 3 days later when another dozen roses arrived. Dad exploded. He was on the phone trying to find out where Jerkwad lived. Dad insisted he was going to go over there and punch that geek out. Mom didn't object this time to Jerkwad being called a geek. Mom made another steak dinner and also made Dad a chocolate pie. She then spent the rest of the evening reassuring Dad that he was the only one she loved.
A week later another dozen Roses arrived. Dad now seemed to be out of his head with jealousy. "You are going to leave me aren't you?" Dad seemed almost resigned to the fact. It was almost sad. Mom wanted to know if he'd like to go out for a nice dinner, and maybe a movie. Dad agreed to this almost reluctantly. I was in charge of the park for the rest of the evening. They didn't come home until after midnight. They both seemed to have had a good time. They were laughing and holding hands as they walked in the door.
About a week later Dad needed my help at the office. He wanted me to help answer the phone , as his normal secretary was home sick. It was a pretty boring job, and at one point Dad went out on a call. Being all alone in my Dad's office I did what any 17 year old would do. I snooped around.On my Dad's desk I found three receipts to the local florist.
Dad was sending Mom the flowers and pretending to be surprised when he got home! He was even more fiendish then I thought. I called Mom and told her what I found. Far from being upset , she thought it was funny.
" That's the most romantic thing he's done in years", she said laughing.
When we got home I could smell steak cooking. Mom rushed out and gave dad a big hug. She told him she knew it was him sending all the flowers. Dad tried to protest , but he knew he was caught. Mom spent the rest of the evening snuggled up to Dad on the couch watching television. Dad glared at me a little for ruining his joke, but never said anything to me.
A week later one last dozen roses arrived. She put them in a vase , and told everyone what a wonderful husband she had. Dad came home to another steak dinner and chocolate pie. All night Mom kept telling him what a great husband he was. All night he kept glancing at the vase. Again they spent the evening snuggled up on the couch watching television. Every now and then Dad would glare at the vase.
Dad didn't send that last dozen roses.
I did.
And it drove him nuts.

Comments

Because no one demanded it. Because no one asked. Because I can see no reason at all to do this, I've added the poor reader the ability to make comments on this pile of duck droppings I call my blog. You'll see below each entry a line that reads "Comments 0". (they'll all say 0. No one cares.) Just click on that and make whatever comments you like.
Not that I will read them mind you. I'm simply doing this to maintain the facade that I care. I know that most of the postings will be from my supposed best friend (Or was that best enemy? let me check. yes.) saying things like," Were you wallowing in monkey filth when you wrote this?" or ,"Good God , it was a crimson bicycle , not red. Get your facts straight!"
So make your comments, and I'll act like I will read them. Again if it's from my best friend I'll have to pretend he wrote something that was legible. Usally it's just something like ," Tom bad. Brain hurts. flower pretty." We all just nod and say , 'That's nice Mark"

So please, I welcome your comments and your thoughts.

The Great Dinosaur Hunt



The school I attended 1st grade and half of 2nd grade was almost brand new. It was so new that the plants , trees and grass were all newly planted. We were not allowed to play in the grassy areas when ever it was wet. This meant that many days we could only stare at the playground area as we milled around the front of the school where it was deemed safe to play. Some of us just stared at the unused playground equipment, while others played games like tag and hide and seek.
When we played hide and seek it wasn't quite fair. We would always choose Harold to be "IT". Harold was a little slow...... Actually Harold was a lot slow. This was his 2nd attempt at passing 2nd grade. This was pretty much normal for Harold. It had taken him 2 attempts to pass first. Some kids who were left behind as often as Harold, carried a grudge for those of us who planned to actually be in high school by time we were 17. Not Harold. He was like a big happy dog who just liked being around people.
Harold's problem was he was too trusting. When we would play hide and seek with Harold , we would tell him that no one could hide behind the bushes that had been planted just in front of the school. So of course we would hide behind the bushes , laughing at Harold as he looked everywhere but there. To my knowledge Harold had so far never caught anyone playing hide and seek, but he was having a great time doing it.
As I have noted here before , as a young boy I was obsessed with dinosaurs. So one day while hiding behind the bushes at the corner of the school , I found a rock with a small fossil in it. It was a very common type of fossil rock. There are probably dozens of them in my driveway right now. But to a 7 year old boy it was better then gold. I showed it to my friends Greg and Gary. They each wanted it. I told them no, but showed them where I found it. We all agreed to dig for more fossils the next time Harold was playing hide and seek.
That night I took the rock home and showed it to Dad. Dad looked at for a quick second and told me,"Pretty neat. You know where you find one of these there are probably many more. Look real hard. Maybe you'll even find a dinosaur." Dad probably said it just to get rid of me. He had no idea he would actually send me off looking for a dinosaur.
The next day I brought my favorite book The How and Why Wonder Book of Dinosaurs to school. I told Gary and Greg what my Dad said. We looked at the book and tried to imagine what type of dinosaur most likely lay under our school.
And so began the great dinosaur hunt.
Every chance we got we dug by the corner of the school, hidden from view by the bushes. Gary brought a sand bucket to school to help carry away the dirt. We didn't tell anyone what we were doing because we wanted all the credit to ourselves. Greg had pointed out that if we dug up a new type of dinosaur we could name it ourselves. My heart was already set on Tyrannosaurus Tom. ( If my Latin is right I believe that means Tom of the tyrant lizards.)
We were so sure that we were going to find something that it came as no shock to us when we did. About 18 inches straight down from the corner of the school building was a jagged rocky mass. We became convinced that we had found a new dinosaur. The bell rang and we went back in to the school. Before we went to class we washed our very dirty hands in the bathroom, and discussed our find. Greg was so excited he wanted to run back out and dig it up right now. Later at lunch we looked though my dinosaur book wondering what our new discovery looked like.
Our digging now took on a new urgency. We were afraid someone would steal it from us before we could get it out. By the next week we had widened and deepened the hole so I could stand in it waist deep. And that's exatly where I was when Harold finally looked for us in the bushes. Harold made such a fuss about finally finding us that a teacher came over to see what was going on. I was still standing in the hole when she found us. For some reason she became very upset about our dig site. She hauled all of us off to the Principal's office, including a very confused Harold. While the Principal was outside looking at the huge hole just outside his office window, we talked about what to say.
We knew we couldn't tell him what we were doing. We had to come up with a very logical reason why 3 boys were digging a large hole on school grounds. Harold wanted to know if he had to go to the office everytime he caught someone in Hide and Seek.
The Principal came back. He did not look very amused by the hole." Why are you digging holes under my office?"
I had been elected to talk. I stood up . " We're trying to find the lost pirates treasure."
The Principal thought it was funny. He laughed very loudly. He however didn't think it was funny enough not to call our parents and keep us after school. Inculding poor Harold who was shocked to learn that Pirates had buried a treasure under the school. I was hoping Mom would be the one to come pick me up. My hopes were dashed when I saw Dad walk into the office.
During the short walk home , Dad yelled at me. "Can't I have just one week go by without one of you kids doing something that gets me called to that school? Pirates? What on earth were you thinking? "
I kept quiet. I was hoping that when everything calmed down we could resume our dinosaur hunt. However soon it was winter, and early the next spring we moved away. I never did get to finish what we started.
30 years later I know that the "dinosaur" I found was in reality the foundation of that school. But everytime I hear in the news " NEW DINOSAUR SPECIES FOUND" ,there's still a small part of me afraid that it's going to turn out to be discovered under a small school in Iowa.

My First Bike


I didn't get my first bike until I was seven. Any older bikes we had Steve ,Geno and John had destroyed by repeatedly crashing into each other , or seeing who could ride into walls the fastest. So when I turned 7 all I had for bikes were a bunch of mangled twisted wrecks. In early spring of that year we drove by a yard sale that had a red bike for sale. I pleaded and begged my parents for that bike. The fact that it was a girls bike with 2 flat tires and a busted chain didn't deter me. I wanted that bike.
Dad feeling particularly nice that day , let me have it. When we got it home Dad took it to a man that lived a few doors down and ran a makeshift bike repair shop. Dad asked if he could repair it. The repair man smiled and said ," Your little girl will be riding this in no time."
"It's for my son."
The repair man looked a little sheepish. "Oh sorry. Hey for an extra dollar I'll replace the pink seat for something less girlish ."
Dad agreed. A week or so later Dad called me out to the backyard. There gleaming in the sunlight was my repaired bike. The repair man had put two new tires, a new chain , and a cool new black banana seat on my bike. It even looked as if he had painted it.
With everyone watching , I got on the bike. I moved the kickstand up and put my feet on the pedals. I then promptly fell over. It seemed in all the excitement of having a new bike I had forgotten I didn't actually know how to ride one. Geno and John laughed , and went back in the house. I could hear Rose ask mom if she could have my bike.
Dad helped me up. With a small frown on his face he told me, " I'm not buying you training wheels." He turned and followed my brothers in the house.
I looked over at Rose and realized that if I didn't learn how to ride this thing soon, she was going to get it. Doggedly I spent the next half hour trying to get it to go more then 2 feet without falling over. My 17 year old brother, Steve saw me doing this when he came home from his girlfriend Kathy's house.
"Why are you on a girls bike", he asked.
"It's mine."
"Do you even know how to ride a bike?"
"No." I explained to Steve that I was afraid if I didn't learn soon Rose was going to get it. I asked him if he could help me.
Steve looked at the bike for a little bit. "But it's a girls bike" he said almost whispering.
"Please?"
Steve clearly looking like it was against his better judgement agreed to help me. He took me to small hill by our house. I climbed on the bike. Steve held me steady for a second then pushed me down the hill. I made it 10 feet before I fell over. I got up and walked back up the hill. We did this all afternoon. Steve looked like he was having great fun shoving me down this hill.
I was covered in scrapes and bruises , but amazingly by the end of the day I could ride a bike. To show off and prove to Rose I knew how to ride a bike ,I rode it around my house for the rest of the evening. Mom looked very happy for me.
"I taught him", Steve said clearly proud.
For the next few weeks I rode that bike everywhere I went. I would ride to the woods by our house , and I rode it to school every day. All the local boys my age would race our bikes. I couldn't have been happier.
By that summer I was riding it to a nearby creek almost every day to go fishing. One day, as I was coming back some boys I didn't know jumped me. They roughed me up a bit and stole my bike. I ran home crying.
The only people home were Steve and Geno. Steve wanted to know if I was hurt , and why I was crying. I told him that some boys I'd never seen before had stolen my bike. Steve wanted to know which way they had went. Sobbing I pointed the way. Steve and Geno got into Steve's car and drove off.
About 5 blocks from our house Steve saw some kids he didn't recognize riding bikes. In the middle of the pack was a boy riding a red girls bike. Steve drove his car a little ahead of the boys and pulled over, waiting for them to pass by him and Geno. They both grabbed a couple long sticks from a nearby tree.
I was sitting outside the front of my house when a shortwhile later Steve's car pulled up. The trunk was open and I could see a bike sticking out. Steve and Geno got out. Geno's shirt was ripped a little. Both looked extremely pleased with themselves. Steve went to the back of his car and pulled a bike from the trunk. He rolled it over to me.
" Here you go." He looked even more proud then when he was shoving me down that hill.
I was very touched Steve would do this for me. First he helped me learn how to ride , and now this. I stared at the bike for a moment , then looked at Steve.
" Um......... That's not my bike Steve."
The smiles faded from their faces. Geno began to look nervously around.
" It's not yours? Are you sure?"
I looked at the bike. Other then it being a red girls bike it bore no resemblance to my bike at all." Yeah that's not my bike."
" How many boys are riding red girl's bicycles ?!" Steve was clearly not happy. Geno looked as if he was about to have a heart attack.Steve banged his head against his car.
"What are we going to do", Geno asked.
" Let me think", Steve said. I stared at the bike. Mine was better.
Steve made Geno roll the bike over to the nearby basketball court and leave it there. He then pulled his car over to the side of the house where it would be harder to be seen. Geno spent the better part of the night looking out the window. Even though they got the wrong bike I was very grateful for what they had done. I went up to Steve and thanked him. I also spent the night torturing Geno by saying" Is that a police car" every time I heard a car.
Two days later the police did come to our house. As they pulled in front of our house , Geno began to run back and forth as if trying to find a place to hide. When they knocked on the door , my Dad answered. The police had found my bike. The cop told my Dad that it was the second girl's bike stolen in one night. I thanked the officer and put the bike in my backyard. I walked in the house and headed for my room.
As I passed the bathroom , I told Geno it was safe to come out.

I find Religion



My first experience with religion that I can remember was my Dad sitting in front of the TV laughing at the Sunday morning televangelist . I'd walk in and ask,"What are you watching Dad?" Dad laughed louder. "A bad actor ",he said. Dad apparently didn't take religion too seriously at this time.
My second brush with religion was when I was in the hospital with kidney problems related to my b.b. injury. They weren't sure at the time what was wrong with me. The Doctors thought I might die at one point. So my parents brought in a priest to baptize me. I didn't know a lot about religion at the age of 4. But I did know that having a priest standing in front of your hospital bed speaking in Latin wasn't good. My Mom was standing to one side trying to hide her tears. So of course I screamed the entire time. I'll say this for the priest , he took it all in stride. He acted like having a screaming boy in front of him was a everyday thing.
2 years later I was wanting to know more about religion. My Grandma would go to church every Sunday. She'd tell me it was good for the soul. One Sunday she took me with her. I was very intrigued. The Priest was talking about Adam and Eve. I asked Grandma who they were. She told me that they were the first people alive. They were created on the 6th day.
"6th day", I asked. "Well what about the dinosaurs? They lived for millions of years before man did."
Grandma smiled. "You need to go to Sunday school. They'll teach you all you need to know." She leaned in close to me and whispered,"They know everything"
Everything? I was stunned. The secrets of the universe were being taught in the basement of this church on Sunday? I had to go. When I got home I asked Dad if we could start going to church on Sunday. Dad was sitting in his chair drinking a beer. He stared at me for a minute then broke out laughing. The only one who thought it was a good idea was my Mom. My brothers and sister thought it was a dreadful idea. My brothers all stayed up very late on Saturday nights watching Creature Feature. The idea of getting up early on Sunday was just wrong as far as they were concerned. Rose was against it because I was for it.
I would not be so easily denied the secrets of the universe. I vowed I would force them to take me. I started a reign of terror.
One early morning Mom was ironing shirts. I sat in the room watching her. When she turned to answer the phone I knocked the iron down on the shirt she was ironing at the time. It soon started to burn the shirt. Mom turned around and saw it. She picked the iron up and saw the large burn mark. I stared up at her smiling.
"Why did you do this !?"
"The Devil made me do it. I need to go to Sunday school."
The next day in school I pushed a few girls down in the mud. My teacher kept me after school that day. When Dad came to pick me up she told him what I had done. My Dad was mad. He asked me what was I thinking.
"The Devil made me do it."
2 days later I poured all of Dad's beer down the sink. Dad was so mad he could barely talk . "What the hell are you doing?"
"Devil made me do it."
Later I spray painted one of Rose's Barbie dolls blue. Mom found it and showed it to me.
"Devil."
This went on for two weeks. Finally Dad relented and agreed that we would all go to church and would sign me up to go to Sunday school. I was overjoyed. Soon all the secrets I desired would be mine. That Saturday night I read my favorite book , The How And Why Book On Dinosaurs . I wanted to know what questions I should ask my Sunday school teacher.
The next morning we all got ready. Steve ,Geno , and John all gave me angry , tired looks. They all looked very uncomfortable in their Sunday clothes. Perhaps it was because they had never worn them before. Rose came out of her room and shot me an evil look. I ignored her. Soon I know everything I wanted.
Dad walked out of his room in his nicest suit."Lets get this over with", he grumbled. We drove to church to start our new religious life .
At the doors of the church Steve ,Geno , and John all stared at Rose as she walked in. They all had funny smiles on their faces. I later asked what was so funny. John told me that they thought she might burst into flame as soon as she walked in. Other then that my brothers showed no humor at all about being up so early and at church. We went in and sat down. My parents , Rose and I in one row, and my brothers in the row directly behind me.
During the sermon , my Mom was the only one besides me who looked as if she was enjoying herself. Dad looked like some trapped animal at times. His eyes constantly darting around looking for the nearest exit. At one point during the sermon the priest asked everyone to shake hand with those around us. Some strange man in front of me turned around and shook my hand. So I turned around to shake one of my brothers hands.
Steve , Geno ,and John glared at me with their arms folded.
When the sermon was over, my parents walked me across the church grounds to the Sunday school building. My parents introduced themselves to the teacher , a kindly looking Nun. She greeted my parents happily , and told them she was looking forward to me attending her class. Dad said he would pick me up when class was over in about a hour. I watched my parents leave, happy that soon I would be learning the secrets of the universe.
The kindly Nun introduced me to the rest of the class. She handed me a book and started to write the class lesson on the chalkboard. I eagerly began to thumb threw the book. It was full of bible stuff. Adam and Eve, Noah, some stuff about a big tower, Charlton Heston saving the Hebrews, but nothing about Dinosaurs , or even UFO's. Maybe this was the wrong book?
The Nun turned around and addressed the class. "Ok if everyone could open your books to page 45." I raised my hand. Smiling she said,"Yes Tom?"
"What about the dinosaurs?"
Her smile faded a little bit. "Excuse me?"
"Well what about the dinosaurs? When did they live? If man was created on the 6th day when did dinosaurs live?"
The smile faded just a little bit more. "Well that's not our lesson today, but I think that God just put the bones in the ground to test our faith. " Her smile returned."OK class can anyone tell me why we...."
I interrupted her by saying loudly ,"God did what?"
Her smile faded completely now. "Tom you can not keep disrupting class."
"Are you telling me Dinosaurs aren't real?" I was pretty upset here. Looking around I could see I wasn't the only one. "Why would God do something like that?"
She didn't look so sweet and kindly anymore."Like I said, to test our faith. Now if we can move on?"
"That's crazy", I said very loudly. I started thumbing through the book again. "Where does it say that?"
Another little boy raised his hand." You mean Triceratops isn't real?"
I looked up from the book. "I can't even find dinosaurs in this book! Why would God lie about the dinosaurs?"
The nun now looked angry. "God does not lie!"
"But you said he just made up the bones! Dad says when you make up stuff it's a lie!"
"God does not lie!"
"Well either you're lying or God's lying !" It was at this point she turned from a sweet kind Nun into a mean old lady making stuff up about God and the dinosaurs. It was also 30 seconds before she threw me out of her class.
When Mom and Dad came to pick me up they found me sitting on a bench in front of the building with a priest. Dad was informed that perhaps I was not ready to attend Sunday school. Dad asked the priest what had happened.
" He called God and his Sunday school teacher liars."
Mom and Dad yelled at me all the way home.
"You bugged us for weeks to do this , and you get kicked out the first day!" Dad was being very unreasonable I thought.
Mom looked horror struck. "How can we ever show our faces there again?"
Dad looked like a light bulb had just gone off above his head. "Well we can't," He said slowly." Not for a very long time." Dad drove the rest of the way home with just a hint of a little smile on face.
And that ended the religious phase of my life.

Voices Yearning to be Heard


I was just surfing on the blogger home page. Every minute or so I would hit refresh and see all the fresh new blogs. I started to wonder how many people are out there writing blogs in hope that someone will read them and say, "Yeah. I can relate to that". How many people are hoping that their voices will be heard over the roar of thousand other voices ? How many people are pouring their hearts out in hopes that it will find meaning in someone else's heart? How many people are writing these blogs in a desperate hope that their thoughts will soon echo in other peoples minds?
There must be thousands of them. Tens of thousands even. Maybe even more.( Maybe even 1.1 million with about 200,000 actively running weblogs.) These people are hoping to find some validation in their lives. A small hope that their lives might have some higher meaning then the daily grind that surrounds them day in and day out.
To the many people out their wanting their voices to be heard I have this to say to you ;
It isn't going to happen. No one cares. Stop embarrassing yourselves. You're clogging up the blogger system so that far more deserving blogs such as mine are getting lost in the shuffle. Stop trying to aspire to something better in life , and accept the hand life has dealt you.
And once you stop wasting time writing your own blogs, you can spend them reading better blogs.
Like mine.
So hit the delete button on your blog. Run outside and stand in the bright sunshine of conformity once again. Stop trying to rock the boat with your silly little ideas and dreams.
And always remember this ........ No one cares about your dreams and hopes except you. So please keep them where they belong. Bottled up so deep inside of you , that one day even you will forget all about them.
And once you've done this think about how easier it will be to find truly worthy blogs to read.
Like mine.




To those unfamiliar with my sense of humor please let me assure you that the preceding was a joke. I encourage all those who want to , to write and share your ideas with the world. Perhaps somewhere out there , the next Plato or Socrates is blogging as I write this? Who knows what ideas might one day spring from all this blogging? I truly think that this is an important forum for thoughts and ideas, and much needed humor in the world today. I say more people should share their dreams and aspirations with the world.
Except if you're French.
No one cares what you have to say.
(if you're French may I direct you to my sincere apology of September 9 2003)

The Tooth Fairy pays me a visit.


I was 6 when I found out that the tooth fairy was my Dad.
It was right before I started 1st grade. My mother was sick with a very bad flu. So Dad, not trusting Steve anymore to watch us, had his brother Tim babysit us ,while he was at work. Tim wasn't too much older then Steve (maybe 18 or so) and we all got along well with him. He was fun but firm. Once while babysitting my cousin Brad, he told him that if he didn't calm down he was going to tie Brad to the front tree until his parents came home. Brad didn't believe him. When my Uncle Ray pulled into the driveway a while later ,Tim was sitting on a lawn chair reading a comic book, and Brad was tied and gagged to the tree. After we heard this story we made sure to mind Tim at all times.
It was easy to mind Tim however. He was so fun. We'd all go outside and rough house, and he would let us eat the worst possible foods. No other babysitter would ever let me have COUNT CHOCULA for supper. So when Tim would tell us to calm down and be quite , we all did it gladly, not because we were afraid of him , but because we really liked him.
So the day he babysat us when Mom was sick was no exception. We all played outside so Mom could rest . At noon we came in to eat. Cereal, pop tarts ,and Pepsi for everyone. A little later Dark Shadows (A weird but popular soap opera) came on and we all sat quietly in the living room while Tim watched it. While it was on it started raining a little outside. When it was over Tim had all my brothers and sister play Monopoly.
Since I didn't know how to play Monopoly ,Tim played with me. He was playing some game where he'd have me stand on his steel toed boots , while he sat in Dad's chair. Then he'd pull the lever for the foot rest and launch me in the air. I laughed loudly and we'd do it again and again. Everybody was having a happy fun filled day.
Until I slipped on Tim's boots.
Tim had just pulled the foot rest. As his feet raised up , I lost my balance and fell. Tim's foot caught me right in the mouth. It didn't knock me out but left me very dazed. I landed hard on the floor. One of my front teeth landed next to me. He had given me a bloody nose and knocked out one of my teeth. I lay there for a microsecond then started screaming. My brothers and sister took one look at me and bolted out the back door. I ran up the stairs screaming for Mom , trailing blood the entire way.
As sick as Mom was she took one look at my bloody face, and ran down the stairs , to find out what happened. She was greeted to an empty house. Tim's car was squealing out of the driveway and my brothers and sister were doing their level best to look as if they'd been outside playing in the rain the entire time.
I was upstairs in the bathroom having my face cleaned up by Mom , when Dad came home and saw the blood on the rug and the stairs. My brothers and sister were playing Monopoly again in the living room. Dad looked over at them and said,"God Damn it! What did you people do to Tom this time?"
My brothers and sister loved Tim and liked him babysitting us. So naturally they sold him out . Each version of the story they told Dad , became worse and worse. Geno told Dad ,Tim had knocked out all my teeth. Rose said he did it on purpose. John was sure Tim was drunk the entire time. And they all told Dad that Tim wouldn't feed them ,and all they had to eat was cereal. Dad marched up the stairs and was very relieved to find out I was only missing one baby tooth.
I had calmed down by that point. When Mom had finished cleaning my face , I showed the tooth to Dad. "How much do you think the tooth fairy will leave me tonight ?"
Dad got a very serious look on his face. He now realized that Tim's little accident was going to cost him some money.
Dad looked at me and said,"Lets go find out"
He had Mom put my shoes on and took me out to the car. I asked Dad where we were going. "Grandma's", was his reply.
"I hope Tim's not mad at me,"I said. "He left real quick after I fell."
"Don't worry", Dad said. "I'll talk with him" Dad even smiled just a very little bit.
Dad took me in to his Mothers house. Grandma took one look at me and started making , "Oh you poor thing" type noises. She asked me if ice cream would make it feel any better. I nodded yes, and sat at the table. Soon I was eating chocolate ice cream. Dad asked Grandma where Tim was. She said he'd been hiding in the garage every since he came home.
Dad looked at me and said."You wait here." He opened the back door and went out to the garage.
I asked Grandma if she thought the tooth fairy was going to give me a lot of money since this was an accident and hurt more. Grandma sat down next to me and said, "I think you're old enough to know that there is no tooth fairy. Your parents leave you the money because you are so brave."
I was shocked. "My Dad's the tooth fairy?" , I asked.
"Well I certainly wouldn't call him that",Grandma said.
Just then there was a commotion in the back yard. Grandma and I looked out the kitchen window and saw my Dad (The Tooth Fairy) holding Tim up by his feet. Dad dropped him on his head. Tim crawled away a little and Dad picked him up by his feet again , shaking him a little this time. Again Dad dropped him. The third time Dad did this Tim said something I couldn't hear and Dad let him go. Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. He gave Dad a 5 dollar bill. Dad walked away ,leaving Tim laying on the ground. Grandma and I sat back down at the table before Dad got back in the house.
Dad walked in the kitchen door. "I talked to Tim and he's just happy you're ok", Dad said. We stayed a few moments more and left.
On the way home Dad said,"Well I heard the tooth fairy is going to give you a dollar tonight."
I remembered the 5 dollars Tim gave Dad. "I thought the tooth fairy was going to give me 5 ?"
Dad glared at me. "The tooth fairy is giving you a dollar and you're going to like it."
I didn't like it one bit. " I think the tooth fairy can afford to give me a little more then a dollar."
Dad glared at me a little bit more. " OK $1.50 and a comic book. The tooth fairy can't afford anymore. The tooth fairy has expenses."
I wasn't real happy, but this sounded much more reasonable. I realized if I tried to push it anymore I could wind up with nothing for my tooth.Besides hearing my Dad refer to himself as the tooth fairy was just too weird. Before we got home Dad picked me up a spiderman comic book. The next morning I found 6 quarters under my bed.
All in all it was a rough day. Not only did I get a bloody nose and a knocked out tooth, but I found out the tooth fairy was my Dad. My Uncle Tim also had a rough day. He never babysat for us again.
The image of Dad holding Tim up by his feet still makes me laugh to this day.
So every now and then when my oldest son looses a tooth, I'll give him 6 quarters and a comic book.
Why don't I do it every time?
I have expenses.

Fun at the Movies




There's a new drive in theater being built about 10 miles from my home. Hopefully it will be ready to open next spring. I look forward to taking my sons to it many times. 4 years ago I took my oldest son Ethan to a run down drive in about 2 hours from my house. He thought it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.
When I was a young boy , going to the movies were fun , but going to a drive in was something very special. The drive in we went to was always very crowded. Dad would get there well before the sun would go down just to make sure we got a great spot. Having to wait an hour or so was no problem for us kids . Below and slightly to the front of the massive screen ,was a great playground area. Sometimes I would play there until well after the movie had started.
Off to the left side of the playground area was a concession stand, that sold beer. This meant Dad had plenty to do himself before the movie started. By the middle of the first feature Dad was always nicely buzzed. It always seemed as if the same crowd came to these things week after week. So I always had kids I knew to play with , and Dad always had some drinking buddies to drink with. Mom was always busy making sure my brothers weren't finding creative ways to get popcorn and candy. My sisters greatest pleasure always came with dumping a soda on top of my head , right before the movie would start. Somehow she was able to do this and make it look like it was my fault. Rose would smirk at me while Dad would yell at me about having to give Rose another quarter for a root beer.
It seemed as if in the late 60's and early 70's that drive in theaters existed for the sole purpose of playing wretched horror movies that couldn't be played anywhere else. Of course this could have something to do with my Dad's taste in movies. He's always maintained that "slumber Party Massacre Part 5 " never received the honors that it so richly deserved. Whatever the case I can't ever remember going to a drive in theater and not watching a scary movie.
What I didn't know at the age of 5 was that by 1969 drive in theaters had begun their slow decline. In another 10 years most of them would be gone. By 1985 only a handful would remain. So that's why around 1969 Drive In's had begun to use gimmicks to make them more exciting places to go to. One such stunt was that during a particularly scary scene in a horror flick , to have 10 or 15 guys in scary monster masks run out and scare the audience in their cars. The best part was that in order to get the maximum effect , they wouldn't tell anyone they were going to do it.
The evening we were lucky enough to experience one of these was one I'll never forget. It was during the beginning of the second feature. Rose and I had wandered back from the playground and were trying to make John and Geno share some popcorn with us. Dad got out of the car to go get another beer. Mom made me get in the front seat so she could dry my head off with the towel that she had wisely begun to bring with her . By the time we could see Dad coming back from the concession stand the movie was getting really scary.
Dad was about two rows directly in front of us when the guys in monster masks began to pop up. The first one I saw jumped up in front of our car and began to wave his arms wildly. He flattened his face against the front window and began to make some kind of noise.
I'm not what kind of noise he was making because everyone in the car was screaming. In the backseat Rose was holding John screaming "Save me! Save me!" Popcorn was flying everywhere. Another one of these goons had appeared behind the car and was trying to look like he was going to open the back drivers side door.
That's when these two screaming masked idiots saw Dad. My Dad, in his intoxicated state, thus far hadn't noticed them. Holding his cup of beer and munching on a candy bar, Dad was about 15 feet away when they ran up to him . Waving their arms above their heads and running in an exaggerated "monster" way they approached Dad. Dad looked startled . A little surprised yell came out of him. As he moved back a bit, away from them, he dropped his beer.
As the beer hit the ground Dad hit one of the monster mask guys hard in the stomach. He fell over doubled up in pain. The second guy ran away from Dad, still waving his arms above his head. Dad looking very confused walked rapidly up to the car and got in. He looked straight ahead for a moment then announced ,"We're leaving."
As we pulled away I could see another one of the masked guys running up to his fallen friend. In the back I could hear Rose still making little whimpering noises.
I looked up at Dad in awe. I didn't know my Dad had just punched out what was likely some poor teenager in a monster mask. I thought my Dad had just saved our family by taking on two vicious monsters. By the time we were half way home Dad had recovered from his surprise to start joking about it a little.
"Well I guess they picked the wrong Drive in theater to attack."
Geno and John of course knew that they weren't real monsters. So after we got home they decided to have some more fun with me. They asked Dad if those were flesh eating monsters. Dad not wanting to look foolish said ,"Yup. Flesh eating"
After Dad had went upstairs to bed ,Geno and John made a big show of looking out the window.
"What are looking at?"I asked.
"Flesh eating monsters never give up. They're probably hiding in the woods waiting for us to go to sleep. Then they'll break in and start eating us."
Well that was a comforting thought. I stayed up until after midnight, looking out my window. Then I remembered Dad punching out one monster and chasing another away. Realizing that no monster in his right mind was going to break into Dad's house , I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
By the next day I was telling anyone who would listen about my Dads monster fighting skills. Of course in the retelling of it , the monsters grew in size and numbers. When Dad would walk by my friends, I would ask him to tell them all about it. At the time I thought he was being humble, but now that I look back on it I can tell he was just very embarrassed about the whole thing.
It was over a year before we went back to the drive in. Dad would always ask the ticket taker,"Are you going to have anyone jump out and try to scare us? I don't really appreciate that."
Dad sometimes jokes around now, about how he hit some monster once at a drive in theater.
I wonder if somewhere some guy is telling his kids about how he was once punched out at a drive in theater by a guy who looked a lot like Saddam Hussein?

Free Speech




I believe in free speech. I believe deeply that it's our most precious freedom. So on today of all days our free speech is even more important than before. I kept thinking about this while I watched news coverage earlier today about an American branch of Islamic extremists who had a protest praising the hijackers. I kept reminding myself that it's the speech we disagree with the most , that needs the most protection.
I don't have all that much experience with protests or rallies. In point of fact I can only remember seeing one demonstration in my entire life. It was at college . There were a bunch of kids protesting the fact that my college had money invested in some South African companies. ( This was during apartheid)They demanded that my school divest immediately.
In order to show the horrible poverty that the black population of South Africa faced, these protesters made a little "shanty town " out of cardboard boxes. 24 hours a day they sang "We shall overcome". They vowed not to leave, no matter how bad it got during the cool wet spring evenings.
I personally couldn't care less about apartheid. If these guys wanted to protest instead of getting drunk while in college more power to them , I thought.
What I did care about was that they had erected their little shanty town across the street from my frat house. Laying on the roof, drinking a winecooler, and looking up at the stars just wasn't the same with these pin heads singing "We shall overcome ". It got to the point where we were all going to our classes instead of blowing them off , because we couldn't stand the singing. A few of my frat brothers wanted to go over and kick their butts.
"No", I'd say. "They have a right to be annoying little pukes. We have to respect their rights ."My frat brothers weren't happy ,but they agreed to leave them alone.
As much as they annoyed me I couldn't help but think it was a victory for free speech.
That Friday on a very cold spring evening , my frat threw a big party. The shanty town across the street was being advertised as a peace rally , so we called our party a war rally to protest them. We even advertised in the local newspaper. We had a big sheet with a large target painted on it hanging from our second floor. There was a large turnout.
For some unknown reason this seemed to upset the people in the shanty town.
Of course I didn't care. All I cared about was that Cathy , a girl I'd been trying to get to know better all year had showed up in a toga. And she was very drunk! I couldn't have asked for anything more.
Well maybe one thing.
To protest our protest against their protest, the shanty town pinheads had found even more people with nothing to do to come over and sing,"We shall overcome!" As loud as our party was , the shanty town people were louder. It started to disrupt my concentration while convincing drunk Cathy that I respected her intelligence. I tried to block it out but found myself failing. I asked Cathy if she'd excuse me , and went outside.
I grabbed the garden hose and stretched it as far as I could across the street. With a drink in one hand and the hose in the other I sprayed my shanty town neighbors with water.
A lot of water.
May I point out that for a peace rally these guys reacted very unpeacefully. Thankfully my roommate and a few other friends were there with me. When it was over most of the shanty town people left to find a dryer place to have their protest. Afterwards I wandered back to my frat house only to find that Cathy's toga was laying on the couch and she had gone off with my frat brother John. Realizing that some things just weren't meant to be I grabbed another drink and went outside and laid on the roof. For the first time in a week I could stare at the stars with hearing "We shall overcome!"
The moral of this story? If you find some protesters praising the hijackers , please respect their right of free speech.
But if you do happen to spray them with a garden hose I'm not going to say anything.

Dave is the key to world peace

Islamic extremists hate us because we are a society that tolerates other views then their own. It drives them mad that we get along as well as we do. Also I think they hate us for the same reason I hated walking with my friend, Dave Morrell in the mall.
Bear with me here.
Dave had just come back from basic training. He was in good shape ,had a sharp looking buzz cut, and was wearing a new long coat. When we went to the mall I noticed that every girl I was looking at, was looking at Dave. It started to drive me nuts. I was thinking ,"Hey I'm good looking. Why don't they look at me?" I became very jealous of all the attention. By the end of the evening I didn't even want to talk to Dave. Dave of course was unaware of my feelings of inadequacies.
So you see Dave is like America, and I am like the Islamic extremists . The main difference is I've never wanted to fly a fully fueled 767 into Dave.
Also I'd have no use what so ever for the 80 virgins the hijackers thought they were getting in heaven. Good God why would anyone want to go though eternity with 80 women that have severe sexual issues? These guys must be nuts.
The Islamic extremists have to accept themselves for what they are. They'll never be Dave , but they can be happy with who they are. I found happiness being who I am, and I'm sure that the extremist can do the same. Until of course America finds them and blows them off the face of the planet . Thereby sending them to their 80 women with major sexual hang-ups.
And you see that's why I'm better then the extremists. I learned that just because everyone was staring at Dave, it didn't mean I wasn't handsome in my own humble way.
I look forward to a bright future. A future where Islamic extremists can walk in the mall next to Dave and not care that their 80 virgins are all looking at him. A future where the Islamic extremists can say to themselves ,"I'm handsome in my own special way!" A future where the Islamic extremist can look at Dave and realize, "Hey maybe it's not Dave? Maybe they are staring because he's wearing a God awful pimp coat , that looks like something Huggy Bear would have wore on Starsky and Hutch?" Then maybe the extremists can be happy with themselves.
And once they are happy, they can come out of their caves and smile under the bright blue sky.
And then of course we can find them and kill them.