Does Not Work And Play Well With Others

I'm a very smart person.
I have friends who know more on individual subjects then I do. For example Mark knows far more on Computers and Pornography then I do. (Once before he was married I spent the night at his house. I opened a door to find a room full of porn magazines. All I can tell you is it reminded very much of the room where they hid the Lost Ark in at the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark.) All my friends have far more intensive singular or plural subjects that they excel in.
I pride myself that I know a lot about most everything save modern culture (I know nothing of sports save all of Boxing and the 1985 Bears. I'm worse with Music. My Music knowledge ends with the Beatles and the Beach Boys.) My reading collection is varied. On my nightstand is a book about ancient Troy, another about Jack The Ripper, and one about Astronomy. I am well versed in other subjects ranging from Dinosaurs (I still have the How and Why Wonder Book about Dinosaurs from 1st grade.) to the Civil War. I know why the Croissant is shaped like a crescent. I knew the Titanic had broken in two, years before the wreck was ever found. (Until then it was thought it had sunk in one piece. Some people actual thought it was low enough on the ocean floor where it was perfectly preserved and could one day be brought up.) Everytime I look up into the night sky it is with a sense of awe and wonder. I know I am seeing things thousands to millions of years old. I know I'm looking into the past.
My knowledge is vast.
And useless.
The only real benefit from what I know is that when I find myself in a bad situation, I can dift away and imagine I'm somewhere else. For example one time when my sadistic Eye Doctor was sticking a 39 inch needle in my eye(Was it smaller? Didn't seem smaller as it came close to my eyeball), I was able to imagine I was walking the streets of Pompeii moments before Vesuvius blew it's top. When my father would yell at me as a young man I would imagine what it was like the day the asteroid wiped out the dinosaurs. (The rumble of his voice provided some very good sound effects.) When my ear acts up and I spend the next week or so flat on my back with vertigo I use this same technique.
But yesterday standing in line at Wal-Mart, no amount of drifting away could hide the fact that I was in the speedy checkout lane behind a woman with a cart full of groceries. To be fair I should have noticed her in front of me. But her enormous size prevented me from seeing what was in her cart. Also this was a woman of unsurpassed ugliness. So to avoid harming my eyes any further I spent my time in line reading TV Guide. The line was moving fairly fast and I thought if I paid her no attention she'd go away.
Finally when I was next in line she started putting her many items on the checkout counter. This was the less then 20 items lane. My first clue that I was in trouble was when she had put so many things on the counter some began falling off. I looked away from my TV Guide to her bending over to pick up whatever it was she had dropped. All I could see was her butt coming out of stretch pants that long ago exceeded their recommended level of stretching. Not since the Titanic had encountered the Ice Berg as man seen such a wall of white.
I wanted to back up but there were at least 7 people behind me. I glanced over and saw there were only 3 other lanes open and all were completely full. I put my TV Guide down and saw finally the horror awaiting me. There could have been a 60 item or less lane and this behemoth still would have been 40 items over. I took a deep breath and tried to drift away to somewhere more pleasant.
Unfortunately like a Rhino sensing her prey she heard me breathe and craned her great head in my direction. "You have a problem?", she huffed.
Most people would have said nothing. Most people would have just understood they were going to be there for a long while. Most people would try to be polite. Not me.
"Yes", I said evenly.
Her small little black eyes stared at me waiting for an answer. Finally she asked, "What's your problem?"
"My problem is with the fact you are talking to me instead of continuing to put what looks like one days worth of food for you on the checkout counter." I smiled. "I also have a problem with your reading skills." I pointed at the "Less Then 20 Items", sign.
"I can go anywhere I want", she said.
"I highly doubt that. Now can you please keep taking your stuff out of your cart so we can all leave." I heard mummers of argreement behind me. At this point I thought she was just using me as in excuse to rest her truly mammoth arms. She at last turned away from and reached a beefy hand into the cart. She pulled out some Hamburger all priced half off.
"Is this safe?"
The checkout girl responded. "I'm sure it is."
"Could you check." She seemed to be having a great difficulty breathing. I was afraid she'd have a heart attack and delay me going home even further.
The checkout girl picked up the phone next to her and called a manager over. While they waited the fat lady and the checkout girl began chatting.
"Oh Good God', I said pretty loudly.
"I don't want to catch mad cow disease."
"If anyone could I'm sure you would. But I'm also fairly sure that Wal-Mart isn't going to be putting out bad meat." (I wasn't sure in fact, but there was no way I was telling this beast that.) I was losing my good mood. "While we wait could we keep taking things out of the damn cart? If you need help I'll lend a hand."
The manager came over and confirmed for everyone to know that yes Wal-Mart was not knowingly selling mad cow beef.
Finally the blob shaped woman in front of me started taking items out of her cart again. Close to the end she asked what the price was on a bag of sugar. The checkout girl rang it up and said something like," $1.75".
"I thought it was $1.45?"
In my mind I tried desperately to find some happy place to go. The San Francisco earthquake of 1908? No go. Pearl Harbor ? Nope couldn't go there either. The Hindenburg? Couldn't go there. It seemed I was stuck with this bovine in front of me.
It seemed my discomfort was showing. "I'm going as fast as I can", said the checkout girl.
"I highly doubt that."
At last the call came back. It was $1.75. The great white whale in front of me protested. "I was sure it was $1.45."
"Good GOD LADY! I'll pay you 30 cents to just forget it!" I tossed two quarters on the counter. "Keep the change."
Finally it was over. I glanced at the clock on the wall. 15 minutes had passed since she got to the counter.
I put my 3 items on the counter. Another checkout girl came up and told the girl, "It's your lunch break."
So I had to wait another 2 minutes while the one girl took her drawer of money out and the other girl signed herself in.
As I walked out to my truck later the Hippo sized lady was still throwing her groceries into her van. As I was getting into the truck she called over to me, "I Hope you get Mad Cow and die!"
"No Offense Lady, but it would be more pleasant than standing behind you again."
With that I got into my truck and drove away.
My wife tells me I'm too judgemental at times.

I'm Probably Going To Hell

A few final words about my fire.
My sister was jealous my home burned up. It started with the donations. Like I said earlier my parents basement was full of the donations thoughtful people from Illinois and Iowa had given us. One man even constructed a wooden house for my youngest son to play on. It's so well built I have no doubt his grandchildren will be playing on it.
On a few occasions I caught Rose going though newer donations to see if there was anything she wanted.
"What are you doing?" I knew the answer but asked anyway.
"You can't use all this. I want to see if there's anything I want", was her reply. I have no doubt she made off with quite a bit of things. (More then one friend of mine suggested I shoot her and tell police she was a looter.)
One of the hardest things I had to do after the fire was to walk though the rubble of my house and catalog everything I owned, and to give it a replacement value. (Remember boys and girls get replacement cost on your homeowners Insurance. It's a beautiful thing.) For a week and a half I walked though my house (Avoiding holes) and made my list of what was lost. ( It's amazing that you can't tell one burned piece of electronics from another. "Sure that was an X-Box.") Once I was done I sent the list to my Insurance agent.
Two days later I had a check in my hand for more then I care to say.
(Oh before I go let me give you another bit of advice about house fires. The Insurance agent afterwards will offer to send in a company to "clean " what clothes and items they can. Say no. What they do is charge you for every piece they try to clean.
Lets say you have a badly smoke damaged shirt. The cleaners the Insurance company sends you to, charges you 10 dollars to clean that shirt. If they don't get it clean they may try to clean it again 3 or 4 times. All that money is taken from your check. One person I knew was charged 30 thousand dollars. All they got back was a bag full of clothes. So instead of having a nice 60 thousand dollar check to replace their items they got a check for half that. When my Insurance agent suggested that to me I told him no.
Actually I believe I said hell no.)
Back to Rose and Jealousy.
After going though what we went though it was a nice change for Angie and I to go shopping for new things. Mostly it was window shopping at first. Angie and I did not want to buy too many things and just have to move them later. I would stop by and show my Mom things we were going to buy. Rose of course if she was there would throw a fit. At one point she actually said, "I wish I had a fire and could get all new things."
Let me write that again. "I wish I had a fire and could get all new things."
It's just as bitchy the second time.
When Angie and I took a chunk of our replacement money and paid the house off she flew off the handle completely.
"Why do all the nice things happen to people like you?"
I looked at Rose, blinked a couple times and said with all sincerity, "Rose I hope one day you are blessed as I am."
When we moved back in to our home after it was repaired, we invited family and friends over to show them what it looked like. Our house was now far better then before the fire. Rose didn't come until late and stayed in the kitchen glaring the entire time. She refused to even look at my television. (Widescreen. HDTV.)
I must say that I'm surprised that a blaze didn't break out in her home that night.
She was jealous I had a fire. I still can't get over that.
One other thing before I go. As nice as everything was when we moved back in, I was still very much ill at ease. For a long time, well into that summer I had the feeling that someone was going to come and take it all away. Finally I began to rest a little easier, and realized my new home wasn't going anywhere.

Words from my past.

During the time Rose was making her comments about how lucky I was I felt anything but lucky. In point of fact I was very upset. Twice in less then 10 years I've lost everything to fires. I began to feel very angry with God. I wrote Mark two letters that showed a bit of my anger. One of them was a story of me bumping into God at a bar after burning my house down. Under his barstool was a empty gas can. God and I got into a loud verbal agrument in my letter.
Sadly that letter seems to have lost for you to enjoy. The second letter however has survived. Mark has retrieved it and emailed it back to me. Now before you read it, I must warn you that if you are very religious and faithful, you might find this....Upsetting. Please keep in mind what I had just gone though.


God’s Bad Aim



Earlier today, I was sitting in my house, when suddenly there was a huge noise outside. I ran outside and saw the house next to me had collapsed. The owner of the house crawled out of the wreckage finding that only he among his family had survived. While he sat crying among the ruins a car pulled up and some guy got out (also crying) and said “Oh man, I hate to tell you this but your factor just exploded and only I survived.” My next door neighbor comforted his worker and said “That’s Ok, at least I have the meat packing plant.” Soon afterwards another car pulled up. A fellow of Hispanic origin stepped out (also crying) and began to speak to my unfortunate neighbor. I couldn’t understand what he said, but Angie translated roughly that the INS showed up and deported everyone, and only he got away to tell the tale. My neighbor cried a bit more but said “At least I have decent insurance.” His cell phone rang almost as soon as he said that. (Did I mention that he was still sitting among the ruins of his house, and that by this point I was sitting in a lawn chair eating popcorn?) He answered, and it was his insurance agent. It was here that my most unfortunate neighbor found out that his insurance company was a subsidiary of Enron.
It was at this point he finally lost it. He was put in a straight-jacket and sent to the looney bin. He kept saying over and over again (crying all the time) “It’ll be Ok. It’ll be Ok.” As the ambulance took him away I noticed God and Satan leaning against a car. God looked at Satan and said, “See he didn’t curse me once.” Satan replied, “Man from what you told me he would have folded right away. Oh well. You win.” He reached into hi pocket and gave God a dollar. God held it up to the sky and looked closely at it. “It’s real!” Satan said.
“Just checking. You know I thought Hernandez would have folded right away too and cursed me. Oh well, that’ll teach him.”
It was at this point I threw my bag of popcorn at God’s head. (Couldn’t miss. HUGE target). I shouted, “Hey dippy, you got the wrong house!” I must say God looked very surprised. And Angry.
“All right let’s see how long it takes for you to curse me!” He began to gesture.
“Go to Hell,” I said before he could finish.
The devil laughed. “Ha! I win!”
“No wait, I get to vex him!” God looked very disappointed, “but very well.” God reached into his robes and pulled out a dollar. “Here you go.” Satan took the dollar with a smug look. They began to walk off, with God glaring at me.
“Should we fix what we did to his neighbor?” Satan asked.
“Screw him,” God replied. "I'm late for lunch with the Pope."
"Yeah ", said the Devil. "I have a lunch with Hernandez's sister. You know she scares me?"
God wasn't listening. He clearly wasn’t in a good mood. I decided to ruin it a bit more.
“Hey, Dark One,” I shouted, “God’s trying to rip you off. All he did was give you the dollar you gave him. He still owes you his dollar!”
God held up his hands, “No, buddy, you got it wrong. It was an honest mistake. Here, I’ll give it to you.” God began to reach into his robes when he got a surprised look in his face. “LOOK!” He pointed behind Satan, “It’s the rapture!”
The devil turned around, his eyes wide. God took off running down the street. Satan looked down at the ground and said to me in a low voice, “He took off, didn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“What a jerk. I’m out of here.” And with that he was gone.
Sigh.
That was my day. Anything up with you?
Tom

I know this is the sort of thing I'm going to be asked about if I even get close to the Pearly Gates.

My Heart Warming Christmas Story. Part Three
OR How I Learned The True Meaning Of Christmas
When I was sitting alone in that sun room it was in all probability no later than 3.30 in the afternoon. Yet that day seemed to drag on. I remember thinking, "Was it only a few hours ago I awoke in my bed?" A bed that was covered in ash and soot and more then a little ice by now." I wanted nothing more then to lay on my couch and fall asleep.
But unfortunately my couch was now a charred wreck hanging over a hole to my basement.
It was about this time that things began to turn in my favor.
Rose came upstairs and told me that I had a phone call from some lady from Red Cross. Angie had just left with my brother John and his daughter Joy to go back to the house. They were going to see if there was anything else they could get out before it was too dark. I picked up the phone and talked the woman from Red Cross. She was coming in from out of town and wanted to meet me somewhere. I agreed to meet her at McDonald's since she didn't know her way around Kewanee that well.
A few minutes later I was sitting in McDonald's getting the first good news of the day. Red cross was offering to pay for a motel for 4 days, and also was giving me a voucher for Wal-Mart so I could buy some basic supplies for my family such as a change of clothes and some toiletries. It wasn't much but knowing that I had a place to stay for at least 4 days made me feel better.
When I walked into my parents house I saw a large pile of toys sitting on her kitchen table. I asked where they had come from and was told a police officer and his wife had went out and bought them for my children. I was very taken aback. I barely knew the man. I thought it was a very kind gesture. I placed a call to my Insurance agent who told me because of the holidays that there wouldn't be anyone to help me until the 26th. Which seemed an eternity away.
Later after Angie and I had gotten a motel room one of the fire men called. He belonged to an organization that helped families get back on their feet after fires. Since Christmas was coming up he wanted to make sure the kids had toys. He asked if we could meet him at Wal-Mart early the next day.(Christmas Eve. Just the day you want to go and shop at Wal-Mart.)
When Angie and I showed up at Wal-Mart the next morning with our kids we were greeted by not just the one group, but by the Marines who also wanted to buy my kids gifts for Christmas. They had thoughtfully brought with them news crews from two of the local television stations.
Normally a shopping spree paid for by someone else is just the thing to lift my spirits. But having just lost everything I possessed was taking some of the joy out of it. Also there nothing more disconcerting then having two television cameras stuck in your face when you're looking at underwear. My oldest son Ethan also found this to be upsetting. Everytime he reached for a new toy the cameramen would lean over and zoom in on him. After a little while Ethan was becoming openly hostile to the reporters.
While we were there people that I knew from working at Wal-mart were coming up and giving me their best wishes. They were also giving me cards with money or gift certificates in them. I was becoming very overwhelmed by everyone's kindness. One lady alone gave me a gift certificate to Wal-mart worth $300.
At noon one of the television stations aired fotage of us shopping at Wal-mart. By 5 that afternoon people were dropping gifts and clothes and money off at my parents house, or the fire department. By the next day my mothers basement was half full of all the donations people were leaving us.
Now to be honest this took me completetly by surprise. When we had our first fire (You'll never know how it makes me feel when I hve to use terms like "First Fire" and "Second Fire".) we got nothing. Not one donation.
Now we were getting so much we couldn't handle it all. The Fire Department had so much dropped off at their station they had to bring it over in two pick up trucks. People who had not spoke to me in years sent me checks.
Every year we have Christmas at my sisters house. That year was no exception. However I have no memory of it. I was still in shock from the fire. I also have no clear memory of Christmas day. I do remember sitting in my motel room watching a local channel show Real Estate listings. I kept wondering if I was looking at our new home there somewhere.
Sometime in that time frame I went over to the house to see what I could salvage if anything. To my great surprise I found that a great majority of our photographs had surived. It was all more surprising because they were in our living room. They were more or less protected by being in a heavy end table stuck tightly inbetween two heavy sofa's. Also most of our family video tapes had survived because Ethan had taken them up to his room to watch them.
The day after Christmas the donations kept pouring in. I literally couldn't believe it. Some of them were coming from as far as 100 miles away.
The fact that I've always had a fairly low opinion of my fellow man may have had something to do with it.
That afternoon I finaly meet with my Insurance Adjuster. I wasn't sure what to expect. Our first fire we never had any Insurance. (Let this be a lesson to you!) So when I met the man at my house I was sure I was about to get screwed over.
After we walked though the wreckage of my home he turned to me and said,"I think we can save it."
I was stunned. "You did see the little hole in the living room?"
He explained to me that my Insurance paid more to repair my house then it did to replace my house. A lot more.
It boiled down to this. My Insurance would figure out what the fair market value of my house would be before the fire, add maybe 15 % to it and tell me to buy a new house. Sadly this meant I would only be getting a check for around 50 some thousand .
Or they could spend up to $120,000 to repair it. The next day Angie and I met with the contractor the Insurance Adjuster recommended. He told us that basicly he was going to rip everything out of my house and leave the shell. I would end up with a new house inside. Also he could move things around and make other improvements we wanted. It didn't take long for me and Angie to agree.
Our Insurance even paid for us to stay at another house while ours was being repaired. 5 months later we moved into our "new" home. With our replacement money I even had enough to buy myself a lovely 48 inch widescreen television,(HDTV ready) and a tivo for Mark. I even bought the exact same couch, chair, and love seat I had before.
I'll never forget the kindness that complete strangers showed us. With the Insurance we would have made it though, but because of the gifts and donations I've begun to question my opinion of my fellow man.
We lost many things that can never be replaced, but in the end we were very lucky. With some of our replacement money we paid off the house and still had enough to replace everything we had except two piano's. They had been given to us for free, but when we looked up the cost of replacing them thought that the money would be more wisely spent paying off the house.
So sitting here two years later it's hard to believe what we went though. I'll never forget the lesson I learned from my second fire.
If you have to have a fire, have it two days before Christmas.

Sorry.
Very Sick. Will Post Later Tonight Or Early Tomorrow. Go Enjoy Christmas And The Holiday's With Your Families.
Tom

My Heart Warming Christmas Story. Part Two
or God Really Really Hates Me

On December 23rd 2001 God burned my house down. From what I would later learn somewhere in a crawl space under my living room, he caused a old piece of electrical wiring to short out where it was connected with the new wiring at a junction box. He probably caused this to happen even before we left. The fire was a long smoldering one. It took it's time to gather strength.
From what the firemen and other experts would later tell me a slow building fire is by far the worst type of fire you can have. It's far hotter then any flash fire.
I knew none of this when Angie's brother told me that my house was in flames. I hung up from him and ran outside to the front porch to call my parents. Every time I dialed the number it was busy. After the sixth time dialing it, I realized that I was actually dialing my own phone number. "That's not good", I thought.
Meanwhile inside the house Angie was trying to figure out what was going on. Her uncle knew but couldn't find the words to tell her. She knew something was wrong by everyone's looks, and was getting frustrated no one would tell her.
Finally I got hold of my parents house. A woman who worked for my parents answered the phone and told me that my family was over at my house and from what she knew it didn't look good. I told her to let everyone know I we were ok , and on our way home. I ran into the house and told Angie what little I knew. Within just a few minutes we were in the truck and racing back to Kewanee. We took Isaac with us, but in my most shameful moment during the whole event, we left Ethan behind without telling him anything.
The trip home was probably the longest ride of our life. The entire way home we kept saying things like,"Maybe it's not that bad". Or, "We only live 3 blocks from the fire station. How bad could it be?" We kept trying to make the other feel better, but it wasn't doing any good. I was driving at well over 75 miles a hour, but it seemed like I was just crawling along.
Angie told me she thought it was the furnace. She said it had been giving her problems all week.
When we entered the outskirts of Kewanee, I rolled the window down. At that point we were a couple miles from our house but we were downwind. I thought if the fire was bad I would smell something. I took a deep breath though my nose.
I smelled smoke. A particular smoke that only came from house fires.
"Damn it", I cursed under my breath.
A few blocks from my house I could the lights of fire trucks and police cars blocking my street off. My heart sank. From the sound Angie made, hers had just done the same. Ignoring the squad car blocking the street off, we pulled right in front of our house. Smoke was still drifting out of every window. Which wasn't hard. Every window was broken out in my house.
But the outside looked fine. A small hope surged in me. "Maybe it's just smoke damage?" I said it to Angie but it was to comfort me. I got out of the truck. Angie holding Isaac was close behind me. I ran up to the house towards the first fireman I could see.
"What happened?", I asked.
"We're not sure. It started in your basement is all we know for sure.", the man replied.
I ran into the house. Ash was on everything. The first thing I clearly remember seeing was our two Christmas trees. One was my Grandmothers, the other was Angie's Grandmothers. Each was singed and melted. I ran over to the book case and grabbed a card that Steve had given me months before he passed away. Knowing it was ok made me feel a little better. The entire time the Fire Chief was talking to me, but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. A very cold wind was blowing though my house. Insanely it seemed much colder in the house then it did outside.
From where I was standing by the bookcase I could see into my living room. A huge portion of my living room floor was gone. In it's place was a gaping hole that led to my basement. A quick glance around told me that almost my entire first floor was a total lose. A policeman that I knew told me that I had some family members there earlier but they had left a little while ago. I was to call them as soon as I could.
I looked at my melted phone and thought, "It's going to be awhile."
At around this time Angie's Dad showed up. He stayed in his car for the most part, but thankfully watched Isaac, so we didn't have to bring him into the house. For once Isaac was remarkably well behaved.
One of the firemen took Angie to the basement. She was sure it was the furnace that had started the fire. But once down there it was clear that it started in a crawlspace under the living room. The basement was completely flooded, with water dripping from the ceiling. From where Angie was standing she could see the huge center beam that ran though the center of the house. The beam was at least 18 inches wide and a foot thick. Half of it was gone, burned completely away.
Upstairs I made some comment to the Fire Chief, about if they could brace the large hole and make sure it wouldn't collapse any further. The Fire Chief put his arm around my shoulder and took me outside. There he told me as gently as he could, "Son your house is a total lose. No one will ever live in it again."
My mind was reeling. Things get hazy at this point. I remember at one point crying on the front steps. Everything I had was gone. I didn't even know where I was going to be sleeping that night. Angie was walking though the parts of the house the firemen were letting her go, picking up what odds and ends she could save.
At one point the Fire Marshal pulled up in front of the house. Angie went out to talk to him. While she was there a little old later drove by slowly. She stopped and asked Angie if the people that lived there were around. Angie told her she lived there.
The little old lady pulled out some money and gave it to Angie. Angie still in shock herself said thank you. The little old lady slowly drove away. When the Fire Marshal was done asking Angie questions she came back the remains of the house and told me about the little old lady.
"Wow", I said. "That was nice of her. We're probably need it."
Realizing that there was nothing more we could do at the remains of our house, we decided to head over to my parents. Rose and John were waiting for us over there. They were both very concerned for us. (Which in and of itself was just unsettling) Rose even offered to let us stay at her house for as long as we needed. I asked where Mom and Dad were. No one seemed to know.
Telling everyone I needed to make a few phone calls I walked upstairs to Mom's sun room. I sat down behind her desk and started to shake. I knew I was just moments from losing it completely. I sat there and tried to hold myself together.
"It can't get any worse", I said to myself.

Tomorrow the heart warming Conclusion.

My Heart Warming Christmas Story. Part One

Two years ago times were tough for my family. I was on more medication then I care to remember for the various aliments that seem to grow every time I went to the doctor. The only good news on the health front was that my sadistic eye doctor had not poked me in the eye with a needle in quite some time. I had gained some weight already in my life, but the massive doses of Prednisone (a truly vile drug) had caused me to gain so much weight I didn't even want to go outside to get the mail or take out the trash.
My wife was working at the time as an independent contractor. She would travel as far as the east coast to put decals on truck and cars. Sometimes she would be gone as long as two or three weeks. It was rough having her gone, but the money was too good. Especially with me not working. Plus Angie really enjoyed what she did, if not the long hours on the road.
However 9-11 ended all that. Like someone had thrown a switch work dried up almost immediately after the attacks. No one it seemed wanted to spend any money until they knew what was going on. By October things were getting rough for us. She did one last job for the company that would call her up in late October, but after that Angie got a job she hated in order to get money coming in.
With the money from the new job, (did I mention how much Angie hated it?) we started to pay our current bills but were behind on many others. She still had the one last check coming in from her last job , but it seemed to be taking forever for it to get here.
November stretched into December and the check still hadn't come. The check we were waiting for was going to pay some back bills and help us get back on our feet. But most importantly it was going to be our Christmas money. As more days dragged by and no check came the tension rose. We both were on edge. (Plus it didn't help that Angie was working a job she loathed.)
I would have gone to Mom and Dad to ask help for Christmas gifts, but Mom and Dad's business was going though a equally hard time as we were. In desperation I even went to my old job to ask for my job back. I did my best to convince my old boss that I was feeling fine now.
He didn't buy my act.
Finally on December 20th with days to spare, Angie's last check came in. $2,450 some odd dollars. Christmas was saved. Relieve washed over us. That night Ethan and I went to see The Fellowship Of The Ring. It was the first time I was able to relax in weeks. The next night I went to the Quad Cities and bought Angie and Mine's gift to ourselves . A TiVo that was on sale at Best Buy.
(TiVo for those of you still living in the dark ages is the single most greatest invention since the television. I could write about my love for TiVo all night. I could write love sonnets about TiVo if I had the ability. If you don't have a TiVo I suggest,....No I urge you to buy one. You won't regret it.)
The next night I bought the children's Christmas gifts. I was so happy. I probably spent more then I should, but I couldn't help it. While they were sleeping I snuck the gifts into the basement. When I came upstairs I watched Angie play the game Everquest for a little bit (dreadfully addictive game. I suggest you avoid it.) then went upstairs to go to bed.
I slept late the next day. When I woke up on Sunday December 23rd 2001, Angie was gone, dropping Ethan off at her mothers. We had a Christmas dinner at her Uncle's house that day and Ethan was going to ride over there in Angie's mother's car. I rolled out of bed feeling surprisingly good. My only concern was that the Bears were playing and I wanted to watch to see if they were going to make the playoffs that year. Angie's Uncle Gary had some wierd thing about not watching television.
Angie came back and I got ready to go. It was chilly that day, but otherwise it was beautifull out. I was going to dress warm but didn't when I thought I wouldn't be spending that much time outdoors. I left my heavier winter coat behind.
Around 11 in the morning we pulled out of the driveway and headed to her Uncle's house. During the 50 minute ride to her Uncle Gary's we had a nice time. We both felt a lot better since the check came. It wasn't going to be easy but we thought the worst was now behind us. In fact the biggest thing on our mind was that Angie had an Aunt there that hated the Simpsons, and video games. So of course we had Ethan take his Game Boy and the Simpsons game that went with it. We talked a little about Angie finding a different job after Christmas if her contracting job didn't pick up. ( Did I mention she was working a job she hated to support her lazy oaf of a husband?)
Once there I would slip out to my truck occasionally to listen to the Bears game. But for the most part I stayed in the living room watching Angie's Aunt scowl at Ethan as he "corrupted" her kids with that evil video game. Now that the worst was behind us I could do the things I enjoyed the most, being cruel to people that annoy me.
We had been there about an hour or so when the phone rang. Angie's Uncle Gary came into the living room with the cordless phone.
"It's for you." Gary looked a little nervous.
For me? Who the hell knew I was even at Gary's house? I took the phone from Gary.
"Hello?"
Angie's brothers voice came over the phone. He had stayed home because he was ill. His voice was fuzzy and hard to understand.
"Tom? Your house is in frame", I thought I heard him him say.
"Frame ? What the heck are you talking about?"
"Flame!", came his voice much clearer now.
"Your house is on fire!"
My next blog; THE WORST WASN'T OVER

Patches
When my Dad was in Rehab during the fall of 1974 you may recall me telling you about a dog that we had "found' and kept for about a week. When it's owners finally claimed him we found out the cute medium sized black and white dog was named Patches and lived across the street from my school.
Everyday after school I would stop by Patches yard and play with him for around 15 minutes or so. Patches knew that when the last bell rang I would be along shortly. His owners knew that I stopped by and didn't mind. They appreciated greatly the nice care I gave the dog when it was lost.
One day in the late winter of 1975, just as I had gotten to Patches yard after school I saw my friend George running up the sidewalk towards me closely followed by a gang of kids. As he passed me he yelled,"Run!" George bolted past me and ran across Main Street without even bothering to look for oncoming traffic.
Main Street was by far the busiest street in town. The rules were simple. If you didn't live past it you couldn't cross it.
Apparently the gang chasing George didn't live past it. The stood on the corner of the street watching their prey get away from them. Slowly they turned their gaze from George towards me. I was still standing where George had passed me.
I knew some of these boys. Some like Brian and Troy played with me during lunch recess. But when they looked at me they all had the same look that Geno and John gave me right before they jabbed me with something sharp. No one in my family survived long without picking up on subtle little clues like that so I ran away as fast as I could.
I could tell from the sounds behind me that the boys were hot on my heels. Never the fastest runner on my best day I ran straight for the hopeful protection of my meek friend Patches. Within a few seconds I was standing next to Patches dog house, trying to catch my breath. I looked down at the dog house and saw Patches peek his head out looking around. Looking up I saw that the gang of kids were standing about 15 feet away from me. They looked unsure about weather to follow me. A couple of them cast a wary eye on Patches. (Who I may add was doing absolutely nothing to instill fear in anyone's heart.)
Glancing again down at the frightened dog cowing in his dog house I whispered,"You know my dog Duke would be eating one of these kids right now." Patches retreated a little further into his dog house. Wishing I could follow him I looked around for something to arm myself with. Other then his dog food bowl the only item in reach was a little plastic fake newspaper that said,"Man Bites Dog".
"Well that's not going to do me a lot of good", I thought to myself.
"Come on! That dog's not going to protect him", Brian said trying to get someone to go in and grab me.
"I'm not messing with a dog", Troy said. "Why don't you go in there and get him?"
A couple of the other kids started agreeing with Troy and soon Brian was finding his own courage tested. He stared a Patches for a long minute then finally said, " Ok. That dog's not going to do anything." At this point all I could see of Patches was his little black nose sticking out from the dog house.
Brian walked slowly towards me, the other boys cheering him on. When he was about 10 feet away I heard a low growl coming from the dog house. Brian apparently heard it as well because he stopped dead in his tracks. In a flash Patches was out of his dog house charging at Brian. Screaming Brian turned around to run. Before he could get away from Patches reach, the little black and white dog jumped up and tore a piece of Brian's shirt away from him. Brian tore out of the yard screaming. I could hear him screaming all the way down the block.
Smiling now I said to the other boys, 'You've got until the count of 5 and I'm letting him go!" The other boys wasted no time in following Brian down the street.
Alone now with Patches I hugged him saying, "Who a good dog? Who's a good dog?"
For some reason the gang of kids now wanted to beat me up after school. This was quite shocking to me. I had always looked at school as a place to go to get away from harm. Now it seemed I was in danger of being beaten up on my way home to be beat up by my older brothers. Knowing I had a little refuge not 250 from school I managed to make it there everyday. This upset the boys chasing me to great end.
"Come out and fight fair", they would yell.
"Nope", I would reply.
One day during recess we could all see the moving van at Patches house. Brian came up to me. "You're not going to have anywhere to run are you?"
My heart sank. Not only was I going to lose my safe harbor, but I really liked Patches as well. My heart rose however when I saw the moving van pull out of Patches house, drive 225 feet closer to school and unload their furniture at the house there. Patches was now only 25 feet away from the school. I smiled from ear to ear.
After that they gave up completely. I was never chased home by the pack of boys who seemed so nice during school hours, but seemed to want nothing more then to beat up some poor kid after school.
So it was just a few weeks later as I walked out of school I saw a few of them, including Brian, had caught George before he could quite get off of school property. They had George on the ground and were getting ready to beat him up when I walked by. I stopped and looked down at them.
"Hey you know what we should do? We should throw him in Patches yard? Let Patches take a bite out of him!"
Brian and the other boys thought this a splendid idea. They picked up George and dragged him down the hill towards Patches house. With a heave they threw him into the yard.
Patches came out and playfully licked George in the face.
"Why isn't he being bit?" Brian sounded very disappointed. Apparently Brian had not noticed George, Mark, and I playing with Patches before.
"Patches only bites people who poop their pants", I said matter of factly.
"I don't poop my pants!" Now Brian sounded very angry.
"Don't tell me, tell the dog.'
Brian was so angry he made the mistake of walking towards me and once again into Patches reach. Once again Patches grabbed a piece of Brian's shirt in his mouth. Once again Brian ran all the way down the street screaming like a Frenchmen running away from a German.
Rain or snow it didn't matter to me. A day never went by during school that I didn't stop by Patches house to play with that little dog. Even during the summer I would walk down to his house on my way to the swimming pool or a movie to see him.
Because of him I never did have to worry about being beaten up on my home anymore.

Review
Wow. I've finally been reviewed by the Weblog Review. I was hoping that they'd read My Drivel a little further and notice why the Teddy Bear is at the top of the page. Still they gave me a decent review. Check it out and if you want give me another review by scrolling to the bottom of the page and giving me anywhere between a 0 though 5 vote. I need all the help I can get since I accidentally hit the 0 button when I voted.
heh.
Anyway CLICK HERE to go to the WEBLOG REVIEW
If you are a first time reader here may I suggest going to the June 17 2003 Post and work your way up a couple of entries. The stories will make a little better sense that way.
And yes Mark they loved the About Me page that you made about me.

My Dad becomes "The Man"
After Christmas in 1974 , Dad began looking for another job with new resolve. His last job as an exterminator ended the first week of January of 1975. Money started to become very tight. But Mom was a genius at convincing us that Tuna casserole and Pot Pies were treats to be appreciated.
When Dad made his change from drunk to sober guy I took it in stride. Maybe it was because I was just 10 and accepted things more easily then my brothers and sister, but I had no trouble with it at all.
The same could not be said of the others.
When Dad was drinking he really didn't mind if Geno and Steve were having one or two drinks of their own. If Geno came home a little drunk every now and then that was ok. Boys will be boys , my Dad thought. Besides Dad always said he never trusted anyone who didn't drink. He felt they were trying to hide something.
But once he stopped drinking and started attending A.A. meetings twice a week, things changed. Beer was now outlawed in our home. Dad expected everyone to follow his example.
Geno took it the hardest. He liked drinking. He also liked to do other things. Things that made his eyes red and also made him laugh all the time. Dad said that once he stopped drinking all that other "shit" had to stop as well.
No one really expected Geno to listen.
In early February Dad got a new job. He showed up at the house in a Police uniform. This was to say the least shocking. Dad told us he was really only park police. He would work second shift and drive a patrol car around the parks at night to make sure nothing was going on once they closed. As a bonus we got to go swimming during the summer for free.
The first night Dad showed up in his uniform he called a family meeting. During the meeting Dad told us that in order for him to change our life we were going to have to help. He wanted all of us to be on our best behavior. He told us he didn't want anything screwing up this job. The entire time we had this meeting his eyes never left Geno.
Time passed and Dad settled into his job. One of my little thrills was riding around with Dad on some nights and pretending I was a cop.
One night a month or two after Dad got his job I was alone in the house with Mom. Geno and John were off to see a movie, Dad was at work, and only the devil knows where Rose was. I was playing quietly in Geno and John's room.
While in there I noticed that John had bought a model of the Enterprise. At first I tried to ignore it. But the more I looked at it the more I had a urge to turn it into the more battle damaged Constellation.



I knew that John would be mad. But finally I couldn't resist anymore. I went over to the closet and started to look for the wood burning set we had. At the very top of the closet I found something else that I hadn't played with in a long time. It was a candle making kit. It had been about two years since I had used it.
I opened it up and looked at it. There were around 8 molds inside. Among them were a Owl, A Frog, A Turtle, and A Mushroom. There was a little heating tray with tin cup to melt the wax in. We still had plenty of wax of all colors left. Forgetting the Enterprise for the moment I decided to make a candle or two.
I took the tray out and found a little plastic bag under the heater. Inside it was a green leafy substance that looked a little bit like oregano. I opened it up and smelled.
It didn't smell like oregano.
Not sure exactly what it was for, I plugged in the heating tray and put some red wax in it. As it melted I threw some of the green leafy substance in it. I figured it was something to mix with the wax. When it was completely melted I snapped together the Mushroom mold and poured the wax in. When it had cooled down (it only takes a few minutes) I lit the wick and let it burn. It didn't smell quite right.
Not sure if I was doing it right I grabbed some green wax and poured in even more of the green leafy substance. Soon I had new Turtle and Frog candles.
I was in the middle of mixing it with some brown wax to make an Owl candle when Dad came home for supper. Mom called me downstairs to eat and say hello to Dad. I turned off the tray and still holding the bag in my hands I bounced down the stairs. I gave Dad a hug. Dad asked me what I was doing and I told him I was making some candles. I sat at the table and put the bag next to my plate.
I was about halfway though my supper when Dad asked me in a strange voice what was in the bag. I told him it was in the candle making kit. I handed him the bag and he smelled it. I told him I had already made 3 candles with it. In that same strange voice he asked me to go get those candles. As I was going up the stairs I heard him ask Mom, "Where exactly are the other boys?"
After I gave Dad the other candles he left. He drove to the movie theater and literally pulled Geno out of his seat. 5 minutes later he was back home yelling at Geno. He wanted to know where Geno had got the bag.
"Didn't it come with the candle making kit?", I asked Mom.
"No dear."
Geno had grown up much since he was a little boy. It took him 20 minutes to rat out the people he got the "Green leafy Substance" from. Once Dad got the information he needed he left. He did not seem to be in a good mood.
He was however in a vastly better mood then Geno. He stormed up the stairs yelling at me the entire way up.
"Why's he mad at me?", I asked Mom.
"You found his pot." Mom looked very sad.
"What's Pot?"
So it was at 10 years of age I got my first drugs are bad speech. I was a little shocked. Why would they be putting drugs in candle making kits?
Dad wasted no time. He gave his information to the "real " police and later that night they made a big drug bust. It was big news in our area for a while. Dad even had his picture in the newspaper. Geno was a laughing stock in school.
Two nights after the big raid Dad got a death threat while he was at work. He called and told us to stay away from the windows.
The rest of the night while we ducked around the windows Geno kept yelling at me that this was all my fault. At one point he even hit me in the arm.
I was so mad at Geno that when Dad came home late that night I told him that I thought the brown Owl candle next to the burned up model of the Enterprise had some more drugs in it.

I'm so proud. I've now been translated into two different languages. I wonder how I read in another language? If you want to see it Click Here

Sorry haven't post in a few days. Been getting ready for Christmas and other things. Tonight is Ethan's Christmas program. Also my brother John's wife and two small daughters are up visiting. John is in Iraq. Part of his company (The 4th ID out of Colorado ) were the guys who got Saddam. I'm sure John wasn't there that day.

Don't worry I have a few more funny blogs coming up. I'll write about my second fire , then I'll go back to 1975 and write about my one and only trip to summer camp. After that there's nothing funny left in my life.
Other then Mark.

Race Mixing
But since I have a few more moments to write may I say something about how vile I've always thought U.S. Sen. Strom Thurmond to be. He spent years fighting against "Race mixing". Turns out in his younger days (1925 to be roughly right) he did a bit of mixing of his own.
Then he spent a good deal of the next 40 years making sure his daughter didn't have the same rights as he. He did everything in his power to make sure that black people were second class citizens. At the same time he kept telling her what a great daughter she was.
But here's what makes him a truly vile person. He didn't say those things because he believed it. He said and did the things he did in order to stay in power, first as a Governor then as a US Senator. When he saw the winds of civil rights he changed his tune again. Again only to stay in power.
I can't think of a nice thing to think about the old coot.
Wait I know one nice thing.
He's dead.


My wife tells me I'm too judgemental at times.

SAD

THIS LINK is one of the saddest things you'll read . If you have kids and can get the Flu Shot please do so. My heart breaks for any family that loses a child but this is almost too much.
On a lighter note I'm going Christmas shopping today so I'm not sure if I'll post before Monday. I'll give it a try.

PRIDE

Sometimes you get news that you just want to shout out for the world to hear. Something good and nice . A pleasant change from ,"Hey my house burned down for the second time", or "I just met the Playmate of the Year, and not realizing it was her insulted her over her looks", or "The worst part about getting a needle in your eye is you can't look away."
In the fair town of Kewanee where I've settled down after moving more then 30 times in my life(honestly) , they have just consolidated all the grades into one school. What I mean by that is that All the kindergarden kids go to one school, all the 1st and 2nd grade kids go to another, all the 3rd grades go to yet another and 4th grade though 8th is in one school. This is a change from before when we had 5 different K-8th grade schools in this town.
Anyway my son Ethan is in 5th grade. A month or so ago they tested all the 5th graders reading levels. Yesterday they got the results. Out of every 5th grade student in the Kewanee school system (And remember some of these kids are on their third try at 5th grade!) Ethan scored the highest in his reading. My son reads at a high school level!
I am more proud then words can tell.
Now if only I could get him to listen at a high school level.

Yet another reason for me to stop stealing these from Ejanerds blog. So far I've been tested as a 30%, percent geek 84% evil, and now this. If this keeps up I'm going to blow up the moon and show you all!
sigh




Are You Insane?
brought to you by Quizilla

I don't have a lot of time today. So My post today will just be a quick glimpse into how my mind worked at 10 years of age.


Did You Ever Wonder Why Did Vader Become Evil?
Sometimes I had to much time to think about things as a child.
As a boy of 10 I loved the Saturday morning cartoon show Underdog. I couldn't wait to watch it every weekend. Sometimes I would tie a blue blanket on my dog Duke so he could pretend to be Underdog and watch the show with me. Duke of course always had to make it hard for me, but I usually got the blanket tied on him by the end. Mom would come in and want to know why I had a blanket tied to the dog and I would try to explain that it was his cape.
"Don't let your Dad see that", she'd say clearly not understanding how a 10 year mind thinks.
Duke and I would usually get in trouble as we would play rough pretending to be Underdog and his arch enemy Simon Bar Sinister. (In all honesty I was the only one really pretending. Duke was trying to get out of my way as I jumped on him from the couch.)




Simon was a evil genius who seemed to have a unnatural hatred for dogs in general and Underdog in particular.
Now a ten year old has plenty of time to think and imagine. Soon I was thinking about why would Simon Bar Sinister hate Underdog so much. What could have turned him into such a evil little man. One day I asked Dad.
Dad just stared at me like I was on drugs. Finally when he realized I wasn't going to go until he answered he thought of something.
"Well I suppose," He said slowly, "Maybe he had a dog bite him or do something to him when he was younger."
That made sense. In Simon's childhood there was obviously some horrible traumatic incident with a dog.
Then right before Christmas I had my answer.
It wasn't just any dog. It had to be a very cool dog. The coolest dog.
As I was watching A Charlie Brown Christmas I saw (To my mind anyway) the boy who would grow up to become Simon Bar Sinister.
Linus.


They even have the same hairline. And they both have the same dent in the middle of their heads. (Perhaps this was the cause of the insanity that plagued Linus later in life?)
Obviously sometime later in their lives Snoopy did something. Something so horrible that it set Linus off. Something so bad it turned him to a life of evil. After that watching any Charlie Brown special there was always a little sadness in my heart, knowing that Linus was destined for a life of evil.
I would wonder what did it? What was it that finally made Linus snap. I figured it must have had something to do with Linus's blanket. They never did air the "Linus snaps" episode of Charlie Brown so I never did have all my answers.
Which is good. There are some things kids aren't meant to know.
Like I said ,I had to much time to think.

We Go To The Store.

My three older brother all had different approaches when it came to their cars.
Steve would take a car on it's last legs and spend all his time fixing it up so he could get it to run. He loved nothing more then to work on cars. Sometimes I would stop by and hear him swearing out in the garage at his new project. He acted mad but you could tell he was really having fun. Nothing pleased him more then taking some old rust bucket and turning it into a speed machine.
Geno treated cars like people treated disposable contact lenses. He'd buy the cheapest piece of junk and drive it till it fell apart. Then he'd leave it were it broke down and go off and find a new one.
John on the other hand would buy speed machines and turn them into rust buckets. John's first car (in 1976. Late 1976) was a 1969 brown Plymouth Road Runner. Within a short amount of time he had reduced it to junk. When Dad sold him his Mustang after some evil youth had put a rock though it's top John took no time at all in turning into a undrivable car. John treated cars like an abusive husband treated his wife.
Dad just wanted a nice car to drive back and forth to work. In January of 1978 when we lived in the small town of Atkinson, some of Dad's contacts at the local county sheriffs office let Dad know they were selling some of their squad cars. They were 1974 LTD's with nice big police engines. One was brown and the other was green. Dad went to the station to check them out and really liked them. The local sheriff was willing to sell them to Dad really cheap for all the help Dad had been in the last few years. Dad hadn't owned a car this new in many years. He had spent many years pouring his money away in booze.
When Dad came home that evening it was in his new brown car. The cop engine meant nothing to him. He just liked the way it looked. I hadn't seen him that proud in years. That evening he took Mom, Rose, and I for a ride. He drove everybody's house that we knew so they could see him in his new car. As we were driving on the highway Mom pointed out to Dad he was doing close to 80 miles an hour.
"Wow I didn't even notice. I'm going to have to watch that. The pedal is really sensitive."
Geno and John were drooling over that car. Each wanted to take it out for a spin before the other.
A week and a half after Dad bought the car Mom wanted to go into Kewanee for some grocery shopping. Dad was tired from a long day at the office and decided to let John drive Mom into town. John was so happy he was almost doing the Snoopy dance. I asked Mom if I could go so I could get some candy. Mom thinking it would be nice for Dad to have some time alone said ok. (I think Rose was on one of her "I'm running away from home" moods again)
Just as we were walking though the snow to get into the car Geno came home from work. He was glaring at John as John pulled out of the driveway in Dad's new car. Right before we left John rolled down the window and said to Geno, "I wish I had a picture of you so I could remember the look on your face."
It wasn't a nice look.
There was two ways we could have taken to Kewanee that each would have kept us on a highway. John decided to take the backroads. He told Mom it was a shortcut. Even though we were doing well over 80 on the way there it seemed to take longer to get to Kewanee then normal. There were many hills on these backroads. I swear to God it felt like we left the ground at times when we got to the top of those hills.
Mom finally yelled at John and made him drive more slowly. Once in Kewanee Mom and I went in the store to shop while John "drove around the block". When we walked out we had to wait just a few moments for John to pull up and help us load the groceries into the back seat. Mom had bought so much there was barely any room for me back there.
On the way home John took the same back roads. This time he kept close to the actual speed limit. For most of the ride home the only interesting thing was trying to find which bag held the candy.
As we were going up one hill we saw the headlight of another car coming up the other side of the hill. John actually slowed down a bit more and moved more to his side of the road.
He should have just kept moving.
Apparently John wasn't the only kid hill hopping that night. Some other local boy with the last name of Sims was out driving his Daddy's new car as well. This kid was in the middle of the road when he came over the hill. I don't remember much about the actual impact, but I do remember Mom screaming.
My next clear memory was of laying in the backseat covered in ice cream. At least one can of Pepsi had burst and was spraying the inside of the car with soda. When I sat up I could see the other car actually sitting on top of our hood. I stumbled out of the back of the car. John helped Mom out and looked at the wreck in disbelieve. When the Sims boy crawled out of his car all he could do was look at both cars and say with a smile, "Wow!"
John went nuts. He grabbed the other kid by his neck and threw him against his car. John started screaming, "Why? WHY? He'll kill me. Dad will kill me! What have you done to me?!" Tears were pouring down his face.
Luckily for us (And the Sims boy John was choking.) a local farmer saw the wreck and called the police. He ran over to us before the police showed up and help Mom separate my brother from the other kid. Every now and then John would rush the other boy again only to drug back by the farmer and Mom.
The entire front of Dad car was smashed. Both front tires were flat and the windshield was cracked. The frame was bent enough that Mom's door would not open. John was right. Dad was going to kill him. While we waited for the police, I crawled back into the car and found my candy and a can of Pepsi.
The police and the ambulance soon arrived. Mom was treated for a cut above her left eye. John had a sore arm. I was giving a large towel or blanket to wipe off the ice cream. The police arrested the other kid for drunk driving. The cops were laughing as they put the kid in the back of a car.
"You know the class you have to take to get your license back after a D.U.I. ? You just wrecked the guys car who teaches you that class." (Sadly Mr. Sims was unable to pass the class for another 18 months) Another squad car pulled up to take us home. Just as we left we saw the tow truck pulling Dad's pride and joy away. The officer told us that someone had already called to tell Dad about the accident. John looked more and more sick the closer we got to home.
As pulled up in front of the house Dad was standing out on the front porch in the cool air waiting for us.
He did not look happy.
The police officer talked to Dad for a little bit letting him know it wasn't John's fault. When he left Dad came back into the house. He looked at Mom and asked, "You ok?" Mom nodded.
"I'm ok!", I shouted out. Dad looked at me and just rolled his eyes.
He looked at John for a long moment. "You're very lucky", he finally said. John turned and walked up the stairs. He went into his bedroom and turned off all the lights.
Geno looked up at him. "He's going to pout up there all night isn't he?" I swear there was a slight smile on Geno's face.
Later while John was sitting in his dark room, (Which by the way was also Geno and mine's dark room) Geno went in and turned on the lights.
"Leave me alone!", John shouted.
Geno looked at him for a moment and said, "I wish I had a picture of you so I could remember the look on your face."
Then he pulled a camera out from behind his back and snapped off a shot of John.



Geno raced out of the room and downstairs before John could do anything. Since it was a Friday night Geno and I stayed downstairs watching TV and laughing at John all night. The next morning he was still sulking in his room.
The insurance came though very quickly for Dad. By the next week he bought the Green LTD the police were selling.
He never ever let anyone drive that car.

Tuesdays Question
What's the worst wreck you've ever been in? And was it your fault?

John Takes A Test


On December 2 1974, John turned 16. He couldn't have been more happy. This meant he could go out and get his drivers license. John had his learners permit which meant he could drive with an adult supervising him. Dad had so far not elected to take him out driving. When John would ask Dad why not, Dad's reply was, "I'm not drinking anymore. I'd need to be drunk to let you drive."
Dad was speaking from experience. When he took Steve driving when Steve turned 16 Steve drove like a demon from hell was chasing him. Dad was so shook up he didn't let Steve drive with him again in the car for years. A couple of years later when Geno asked Dad to let him drive, Geno showed Dad the terrors of passing a car on the right side of the road. Remarkably this is something that Geno still does to this day.
Both times when Dad came back from his driving lessons he drunk himself into a stupor. He'd tell Mom that they must of gotten their driving skills from her side of the family. (Actually, sadly, both Steve and Geno were far better drivers then the majority of Mom's brothers.)
By the time John had turned 16 both he and Geno and turned into two very different people. Geno was a rash impulsive young man who strutted more then walked. He had taken to wearing his hair so one eye was constantly hidden behind his black hair. John was a more logical (At least in his mind) and thoughtful in his approach to life.
Their different takes on life could be seen in the way they played chess with each other. John would ponder each move before moving his piece. Geno moved with sudden fury sometimes surprising himself as well as John by his choices. What's funny is Geno would win about half the time. If John would win Geno would want to play another game. If Geno would win John would storm off and pout.
Another difference is the way they dealt with things not going their way. Sometimes Geno would ask a girl and out she'd say no. He ask another one out until he got one who said ok. To him it was no big deal. If John would ask a girl out he'd sit and brood in his room about why he was turned down. John was fun to be around when things were going his way, Geno was fun to be around when things were crashing all around him.
So when John turned 16 he was determined to get his drivers license the first try out. Something Geno didn't do. (Apparently he passed on the right hand side of the road then as well.) So for weeks before his birthday he kept bugging everyone to let him drive. When Dad came back from rehab he was conflicted. One of the things that he was told was to put more faith in people. So when it came to John wanting to drive Dad wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his common sense kept getting in the way.
John had a reason for wanting his license. He had some money saved up from his part time job at Super X. When he walked back and forth to work he saw a older car for sale. He wanted to get his license and have Dad help him buy the car for a birthday/Christmas present. John kept telling Dad all the benefits ("I'll drive Mom to the store for the groceries.")and what a great driver he was.
Finally on the night of my birthday party, Dad told John he'd take him out for his drivers license test the next day for his birthday. After that they'd talk about the car that John wanted. John was absolutely thrilled.
The next day all though school all I could think about was coming home to play with my new G.I. Joe. (With Kung Fu Grip!) All John could think of was getting his license. The day couldn't end soon enough for both of us.
When the last bell rang I ran home though the snow as fast as I could. John got home the same time I did , running in the house and wanting to know where Dad was. Mom said he'd be back in a moment. Soon I was outside playing with my new toy, while John paced in side waiting for Dad.
When Dad came home a few moments later John wanted to leave that moment. Dad told him to wait he wanted to get a bite to eat. While I was outside playing in the backyard I saw Geno over by the dog house. He was messing around with the chain that Duke was normally tied to. Duke was in the basement today because the Laskys were now afraid of him.
A little later Dad and John walked outside so John could get his license. John got into the drivers side of the car which was parked outside the garage. Dad got into the passenger side. John started the car up and backed it down the driveway into the alleyway.
The dog house followed. Though the fence. Apparently the dog chain had in some mysterious way become attached to the back of Dad's car.
Dad and John got out. There was much yelling. Geno came out of the house. There was more yelling. Dad made Geno drag the dog house back and told him to fix the fence before they got back. John was furious. 5 minutes later Dad and John were gone.
I went in the house for a little but was soon back outside playing in the snow with my G.I. Joe. About half an hour later while I was outside I saw Dad's car turn back in the alleyway. At ten miles an hour it drove towards our garage. At ten miles an hour it drove up on our driveway. At ten miles an hour it drove into our garage.
At ten miles an hour it hit the back of our garage with a loud thump. The garage shook.
Dad's voice yelling long curse words at John soon began to float out of the garage. I slowly peaked in the garage. The only noticeable damage to the car was one of Dad's headlights was busted out. While I was looking John stormed by with Dad close behind yelling at him.
It turned out that John did not get his license that day. He later blamed it on Geno for making him so nervous. (Dad said it was more John's incompetence than anything else.)
When he flunked his test Dad let him drive home so he could have more practice. Big mistake. John sat up in his room pouting. I asked Mom if he didn't come down could we still have his cake? Dad finally forced him down so we could sing Happy Birthday and eat the cake. The entire time John looked like he was going to cry.
The next day Geno and John were late for school because they were fighting all the way there.
When Dad came home the next day from work, he brought John his late birthday gift, a 10 speed bike. Dad told John to "get used to it." If possible John looked even less happy then he did a moment before. Dad also charged John for the cost of the broken headlight.

I told you this story so I could tell you tomorrow's story.

Normally I don't post many links. But this is some of the scariest shit I've ever seen. It's a collection of bad plastic surgeries on celebrities.
CLICK HERE
Be warned it's not for the faint of heart. What the hell were these people thinking?


Speaking of scary I've now posted many more photo's next to some of the older blogs.

Happiness is a Stuffed Animal

Wow. Talk about Great Gifts.
I've mentioned we have had two fires since my wife and I were married. The last one was by far the worst. We lost at least 90% of all our belongings. I'll write about it the closer we get to Christmas as for some reason it makes a nice holiday story.
Anyway after the fire one of the surprising things was most of our photo's survived. Some did not but most did.
Sadly I thought for the last two years that one photo in particular did not survive.
I wrote in my Oct 1st 2003 post that everytime Steve's girlfriend (and future wife) came over I would dress up nice in a suit jacket , hat and (clip on ) tie. One day Dad took my picture while I was dressed up waiting for Kathy . I'm holding my favorite stuffed animal Tony. Tony saw me though some of my saddest days while I was in the hospital after Steve shot me.
This picture was and always has been by far my favorite ever taken of me. I have an incredible sentimental attachment to it. After our second fire I thought it was lost.
But just a short while ago while looking for some more photo's to post I found it. A little worse for the wear but intact. Words can not describe how happy I am to see it. Losing it was on of the reasons I wanted to write stuff down for my kids. So that no more of their history would be lost.
Anyway here it is. To you it's just some photo of a kid looking like a dork. To me it's every happy memory of my childhood rolled into one. When one day comes and I edit this all together as a book for my kids this will be on the cover.

I HAVE PICTURES!

Hey I lied about finishing the Greatest Gift story! I'll get around to the rest of the story later. But I just got my scanner fixed so I can now post photo's. I'm having a lot of fun with these. I've scattered a few in past blogs.( Don't worry long time readers I'll give you links so you don't have to hunt them down.) Hopefully you'll get a better feel for what I'm talking about now.
Anyway here's 3 photo's to share with you of the people I love most.
My Wife ANGIE



My oldest son Ethan



My Youngest son Isaac


Don't worry there's a few pictures of me now scattered thoughout this blog. I just didn't want to put an ugly photo of me next to my wife and 2 good looking kids.

There will be many more pictures to come. Enjoy.

PROLOG TO MY GREATEST GIFT


In order to write about my Greatest Gift ever I need to go over some background material first. Some of this you might already know some you might not. So please bear with me.

When my Mom married my Dad the first thing Dad's Mom told Mom was not to have anymore children. "He's not meant to be a father," she said. "Or a husband."
Mom ignored Grandma Aggie's advice and over the next 8 years had 4 more kids.
Grandma it turned out was right. In the early days of Mom and Dad's marriage he really had no idea how to act as a husband or father. When things turned bad for Dad he began to drink more and more.
Dad had never been a light drinker. His first experience was with some moonshine at the age of 15. By the age of 25 he had a reputation as a man not to mess with when drunk. (Honestly you wouldn't want to mess with him sober either.)
Dad began to go from job to job. He was never fired. He would quit first in order to avoid it. But soon Mom and Dad were struggling for money. At one point they declared bankruptcy. At about the same time Mom and Dad packed up in the middle of the night and moved from the Kansas area to Iowa, near the Illinois border. They left almost everything they owned behind them.
This probably had something to do with an incident that happened when I was very young. I wrote about it once earlier in my blog but deleted it because I felt I didn't have the skill to write it. I was going to leave it out because I thought this was something that no one needs to remember. I've reconsidered because the story of my Dad loses something without it.
Dad had become a very abusive drunk. One night he was beating my Mom over something that no one remembers now. He beat her so bad that some of her blood was on the white kitchen cabinets. Mom grabbed a gun that Dad kept in the house and shot Dad in the left shoulder.
I call this my first memory but honestly I don't know anymore if I actually remember it or if it's a memory of a memory. When Dad sobered up he promised to never drink again, and told he was sorry for hitting her.
Dad tried to stop drinking. He even went into rehab. It didn't work out for him and soon he was drinking again. Soon he was getting mean again.
In 1973 when Mom was pregnant he still drank. He never touched her but sometimes he would get into loud arguments. I remember one such night sitting in my cold room with John. John thought perhaps if he ran away into the corn field maybe they would stop screaming and look for him.
As anyone who's read this knows Mom lost the baby and we soon moved again.
Dad and I had something in common during 1974. We both blamed ourselves for Mom losing the baby. I gave my Mom a glass of bad water. I thought (I was only 9 remember) that was why the baby died.
Dad blamed himself because of his drinking. His self hatred grew. Soon he was drinking far more then ever before. Dad was getting in more and more trouble at work. They even sent him to another rehab place to sober up.
Dad was really trying at this point, but he was still failing.
Sometime in later 1974 my brother Steve and his wife Kathy lost their first baby. She's buried near Penny. Dad reacted horribly. Soon he was drinking far more then ever. I never went to the funeral.
For both Dad and myself other then grieving for another lost child, it also brought up sad memories not even a year old. I began to think more and more of that glass of water I gave Mom. Dad was drowning his sorrows in more and more glasses of beer.
Mom and him began to argue again.
One day in late fall I was hiding in the garage. (I have no idea why but I'm sure it had something to do with Geno and John) I was up in the rafters so no one would see me. Dad came in and got into his car. Dad sat in the car for a long while. At first I couldn't tell what he was doing. Then I saw he was crying.
This stunned me. Even at Penny's funeral he never really broke down. Now here he was crying like a baby. It was one of the few times I saw him as a human being. I stayed hidden until well after he had left.
Dad felt like a failure. He had failed as a husband and a father. He knew he needed to change. He knew that if he didn't he'd lose his family and eventually his life.
Dad met a man named Jim soon after. Jim was the first alcohol and drug counselor in the area. In 1974 people didn't think they needed things like that. Dad was now 40. He had been drinking hard for 25 years. For the first time in all that time he now asked for help and meant it.
Jim knew Dad's history and knew that the odds for him weren't good. But Jim said he'd never give up as long as Dad wouldn't give up.
So in early October 1974 for one last time Dad went off to rehab. Mom and Dad both lied to us and said he was going off to some school to be a better exterminator, but we all knew what was happening. I was worried that Dad wouldn't be out in time for my birthday. My Mom assured me that he'd be out before Halloween. Over a month before my birthday.
"Good", I said.
I told my Mom that last year had been the worst birthday of my life and this year I deserved a happy one.
I was such a jerk for ever saying that to her. But like most 10 year olds all I could think of was myself.
But Mom and I were both right. Dad would be out in plenty of time for my birthday. And this year it would be a happy one.

This is all of us right after Dad got out of rehab. Geno is sitting next to Dad. I'm holding the pumpkin. John is the one with curly hair. Mom is behind Geno. The dark haired girl eminating evil is Rose.

Sometimes I wonder about me.....................

Check out the new About Me page that Mark helped create. Not sure if it's what an About Me page should be, but I've never done one before. Besides the whole point of this blog is one huge About Me page when you think about it. Hope you find it as funny as I did.
Anyway I was up till 6 in the morning with Isaac so I'm going to rest. I'll post something else later.
Oh Yeah......
I forgot the Tuesday question (I'm getting old here. Give me a break.) So here it is.
What's the best gift you ever got? What's the best gift you ever gave or at the least the funniest gift you ever gave someone?

Great Gifts


Man this has been a long weekend.
I've been wanting to post photo's for a while but I've had problems with my computer that wouldn't let me do that. Over the weekend we reformatted it so look for some pictures to start appearing fairly soon.
My lovely wife Angie got me a digital camera for my birthday so I can start making new pictures to share with you as soon as figure out how it works. (I've been assured that despite my fears it will not steal my soul) My son Ethan also got me a video game for the computer called The Elder Scrolls III MORROWIND. Game of the year edition. I look forward to playing it. My Mom got me cash along with a nice birthday card. The thing I look forward to every year the most is my Mom drawing a little smiley face on the envelope of my card.
My nephew Kris has not gotten me a gift yet but I'm sure he'll be trying to recycle his "greatest gift of all" line again.
I'm still playing with my new toys and plus need to write an "ABOUT ME" thing to attach to my blog. So I'll just post a quick one here today so Em can have her fix. I don't have time to write about my greatest gift ever so I'll write about the best gift I ever gave someone.
On July 2 1979, my sister Rose turned 18. My father dotted on her even though by that time she was a walking festering pile of evil. (She had not yet become a demon from the 6th ring of hell yet. She still had some more acts to commit to reach that level) Even though she had run away from home on the average of twice a month since she had turned 15 Dad still thought she was his greatest child.
This annoyed me to no end. It seemed no matter what I did Dad still didn't understand that Rose was....well evil. When I graduated from 8th grade earlier that year Dad got me a card. No gift . No party. No cake.
He didn't even come to the ceremony. We had just moved to the park that year so I quickly forgot the snub with all the pleasures living there afforded me. A weird thing happened to me out there. Before we moved to the park I loved to go fishing. My first thought when told I would have a lake in my backyard was that I would spend all my hours fishing. Yet it didn't happen. I tried to get into fishing more but it seemed somehow less special. On the late morning of Rose's 18th birthday I was sitting on one of the boat docks trying to convince myself that I was having more fun then I felt I was having. It was no use. I soon grew bored with fishing and instead was watching the great many frogs by the shore of the lake. I was getting ready to see if I could catch a frog with my fishing pole when I heard Dad call me. I reeled the pole in and ran towards the house. I left the pole sitting on the boat dock.
Rose was gone that day. Dad had her doing errands in town to keep her busy so she wouldn't see her present from him. It seemed he had went out and bought Rose her own Stereo system for her birthday. Dad proudly showed it to me. He had sat it up in the Living room for everyone to see.
It had everything. A record player, a radio, a cassette recorder, and a freaking 8 track. A 8 Track! What did Rose do to deserve an 8 track! She drops out of high school and gets a stereo system and I do well in school and get jack shit.
The final straw was when Dad asked me what I was going to get her.
"What", I asked clearly not hearing him right.
"What are you getting Rose for her birthday? "
He seemed to be speaking English but clearly wasn't making any sense. Why in heavens name would I want to get Rose a gift? Knowing Dad I knew I had to ask this in a way not to piss him off.
"No Offense Dad but have you gone completely mad? Why would I want to buy that witch a gift? Besides I don't have any money?"
Even though I said no offense Dad ignored me and took offense anyway. "You'll get her a gift! I don't care how I don't care where! Just get her a nice gift!"
Very upset I went back to get my fishing pole. I sat down next to the pole and thought about what I should get Rose. I remembered the birthday cake she made me that sent me to the emergency room. She clearly deserved something special.
It was there sitting on the boat dock that I saw what I was going to give her.
Later that evening when Rose came back Dad made her stay outside until the party for her began. If possible my other brothers looked less thrilled then I did. Dad had Rose go into the house with her eyes closed. He guided her towards the living room and had her open her eyes. Rose screamed in pure joy.
John gave Rose a pair of headphones to wear. I was grateful for that gift. It meant I would have to listen to the horrible music she listened to.
Dad motioned to me and had me give Rose my gift. I had wrapped it up in left over gift wrapping paper in our basement. It was a mix of Christmas and birthday wrapping. Rose looked at it trying to figure out what it was.
"Don't shake it", I said. "It's breakable."
Rose opened the gift took one look inside and screamed. She dropped it to the ground.
I have to give the frog inside the box some credit. He didn't just leap out immediately. He sat in his box until Dad was looking right in it.
"You don't like him? I named him Buster.", I said innocently.
It's disgusting!" Rose it seemed did not appreciate my gift. Dad made me gather up Buster and take him back to the lake. Geno and John were doing their best not to laugh at Rose as I headed out the door. I took Buster back to where I found him and let him go. It was while I was outside in the fading sunlight of the day that I heard more screaming from inside the house. It was Rose.
I smiled to myself. I then heard Mom start to scream. Then a moment later Dad was screaming my name. I turned around and walked happily towards the house. Almost skipping my way there.
Rose had found Buster's 20 or so friends that I had left in her bedroom.
Dad never again asked me to get Rose anything.
And I never have.

It Seems Like Only Yesterday I Was Young

16 minutes ago I turned 39.
.......................................................sigh..............................
I'm too young to be 39.
39 years ago today there was a snowstorm in Iowa where I was born.(Probably natures way of reacting to me) Dad was drunk and forgot what my name was supposed to be. My brother John was upset I was born on December 1st. His birthday is December 2nd. He told me that I thereafter ruined every birthday. (Good)
The night I was born was the first time Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer was ever shown on television.
Other birthday moments to remember;
Rose baked me a cake for my 12th birthday that sent me to the hospital with food poisoning later that night.
I asked Angie to marry me when she took me out to celebrate my 28th birthday.
I threw my own surprise party for my 23rd birthday.
I spent my 19th birthday alone because I was snowed in at the park we lived at.
For my 16th birthday my nephew Kris gave me what he said was the "greatest gift of all. LOVE." He has attemped to give me this gift each year after.
For my 25th birthday my brother John wanted to show me what being a man was all about and took me to a strip joint. I introduced him to my girlfriend who was dancing at said bar and all her friends who worked there. John did not speak to me for over a year.
For my 15th birthday Dad took everyone out to Pizza Hut to celebrate my birthday. He didn't realize untill after they had all got there that he had left me back home.
On my 29th birthday I was laid off.
On my 22nd birthday a girl I was engaged to broke up with me. ("Happy freaking birthday honey")
On my 6th birthday my Mom took me to the local kids show "Captain Ernie's Steamboat" When Ernie invited me in front of the camera for a "birthday wish" segment I screamed until I was pulled off the stage.
I've gotten many gifts in my life. Some good, some bad (I'm looking in your direction Mark). But my greatest gift was on my 10th birthday. (However Angie Starving herself for a month to get me a christmas gift is a pretty damn close second)
Anyway I'm going to try and celebrate today that I'm one year closer to my ever impending DEATH so I'll blog about that tomorrow.