Category: Lifestyles

The Face of Leukemia cont….

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(Sorry everyone I am a little exhausted today and my writing shows)

The next day brought a tsunami of nurses and doctors. They filled into Jacy’s room, each with a different explanation, each with an intended purpose, each wanting to ensure we knew what was happening and why. They were fast, they were thorough, they came and went just as quickly. They were also some of the nicest people I have ever met.  I mean seriously generous, kind-hearted, nice people.

You know what I am talking about, the kind of people you see in a small town where everyone knows everyone and when someone is down they all rally behind that person with empathy, generosity and love.  Wait that sounds familiar? Nawww that doesn’t happen anymore these days. (sarcasm)

Anyways the first nurses we became acquainted with were JoAnne and Wayne.  Wayne is a 40 year veteran in the nursing profession and it shows right away. His knowledge and approach with patients is mesmerizing.  This man could teach a very successful class on customer service.  JoAnn is hilarious and does her absolute best to keep us in good spirits from the moment she strolls through the door.  She is absolutely adorable, her and Jacy hit it off right away, a new friendship is born.

The morning is filled with more needle pokes, more blood drawn, and an echocardiogram of Jacy’s heart. This was needed to ensure her heart was healthy enough for the Chemo meds as they are extremely toxic to heart muscle. So a baseline for cardiac output is measured, tolerances devised and the green light given for treatment.

Dr. Truong comes in to discuss possibilities and probabilities in regards to Jacy’s treatment of chemotherapy.  We sit together in awe as numbers, types, statistics, age, medicines and death are all thoroughly covered.  In the end Dr. Truong tells us it doesn’t matter what current statistics are, what matters is you the individual.  You, your brain and your body will determine the outcome of this procedure. She emphasizes a positive attitude will get Jacy along way during treatment.  She looks up to see Jacy smiling her patented big radiant smile and instantly knows attitude isn’t going to be a problem.

Within minutes the I.V. stand becomes loaded with several cocktail mixtures for inter venous consumption.  Lines go in, Jacy lays back and before long my lovely wife, who three days ago thought all was right with world is now a Cancer patient in treatment with chemotherapy.

We spent the better part of the afternoon talking about the last ten years together, where we came from and where we hoped to be when we retired.  Promises made to slow life down when we walk out of this hospital, but I know deep inside that isn’t going to happen. It takes a lot to hold down two jobs, run a ranch and save little puppies from death (Coopers Good Dog Rescue) then raise four children while participating in kids sports, 4-H, FFA, high school rodeo and well good old life in general. Truth be told it has created memories we will cherish together always. We talked about everything under the sun but do you know what we didn’t talk about? Letting cancer win! Thats right, positive attitude all the way! Every one of our conversations about the future had the two of us in it, no death, no separation, only triumph and togetherness. Our conversation started winding down, we made fun of cancer a few more times, even held each other and cried one or two more times.  Then we sat back and began to wait. For what I did not know, but we waited…

While all this was happening,  behind the scenes at home an army was taking shape.  A collage of human spirit weaving its way slowly together getting stronger and stronger by the minute. It was amazing, I had received a few phone calls from loved ones and very close friends within minutes of Jacy announcing her condition of Facebook.  But those few phone calls started a ball rolling that like a snowball tossed gently down a fresh snow covered hill, grew larger while gathering size and speed until it would become an avalanche of love and support so great that people wanted to be consumed by its force and power. Humbling to the say the least.

 

Night rolled into day and I awoke, rolling off  the couch from hell to watch the nurses change out a fluid bag on my wife’s I.V. stand.  She awoke feeling fine, just a little tired and still ready to kick cancers ass!

By 11 the Dr. Truong had re-emerged bringing her infectious smile to our room.  We had a very nice conversation where she explained the importance of a spinal tap on Jacy to retrieve spinal fluid. The Spinal fluid would be tested to ensure no cancer had spread to jacy’s brain (this of course would be devastating) or was trapped within the spinal column. If so this would lead to a chemo treatment directly into the spinal column itself.  No one wanted that…

Jacy is still bouncing off the walls with positive attitude and posting pics of herself on Facebook.  This is good for her, as the higher her spirits for a longer period of time the better mental state she will be in when the chemotherapy really does make her sick. I sit patiently by her side, knowing that moment of nausea will come soon.  She has three “pushes” of high does chemo drugs to go through and the first is tonight.

At 5 pm the nurses assemble for the first “push”, they are covered in gowns and face masks, it looks as though this process should be a scary thing not a positive one. It lasts for 30 minutes, is monitored by nurses for any abnormalities within jacy’s vital signs and the nurses kick me out of the room when it happens.

Walking the halls I am sick to my stomach! I still can’t believe this happening to us! But I promised to be positive, so here goes. I am positive we are going to beat this! I am positive my wife is going to be fine. I am positive I will love this woman to the very end! I am positive I can handle all of this for myself, my wife, my family, and my friends.  I am positive we are going to kick cancers ass…

And it all starts right now!

 

 

 

Listen up pumpkin!

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My dearest daughter:

You are well spoken, smart and can talk the ear off a deaf priest. You are slowly entering the pre-teen years and this of course means my shot-gun is polished, oiled and ready for action! It also means boys, mean girls, real friends, fake friends and of course more boys! As your father (and a member of the opposite sex who was also young at one time) I am struggling to find helpful advice, nuggets of wisdom to answer the many questions about life as an adult bringing you forward into this world of contradictions safely.  Wisdom that will mold you, shape you, ultimately defining who you become as a woman.  One would think by using my personal experiences you might glean valuable information into the future but our world has changed drastically and yet oddly enough in some respects remains painfully the same.

Hypocrisy

In the world of today you my daughter will be expected to stand strong, ooze intelligence images-18and roar loudly until  heard! Of course this is only after a man has spoken because you are after all a woman with a small brain, with a brain a third the size of us men, its science. (sarcasm)

You will be expected to work twice as hard, put in long hours and strive to be the very best at what you do. Then watch as male counterparts do half the work with a quarter of the effort while enjoying the same benefits associated with higher pay and owning a penis.

images-21 images-19You must learn to dress appropriately for a job. Unfortunately in our world that means treading a fine line between appearing as a stiff uptight bitch or an easy boob busting slut. It doesn’t matter what you choose someone will find you to be one or the other and depending on your choice of careers that could be advantageous, purely disastrous or end with your own reality television show. Fingers crossed for that last one!!

Understand my daughter that sexual harassment training has been developed for your protection. Thousands of hours (and lawsuits) have helped define the workplace for the modern woman! Yes thats right men did that through idiotic blunder and sexual abuse! You are welcome! Now you must sit through countless hours of training, helping you to understand the protection afforded you from yourself, from others, from a boss,  a secretary, heck in some states even your dog.  You will have the security of knowing sexual harassment does not go both ways, even though the two-way street of male harassment by a female co-worker is discussed during class. You have nothing to worry about because no self-respecting man will ever stand up and say he was sexually harassed by another woman. In the mans world that’s known as moving up the ladder.

In this modern liberated society, where are all human beings are supposed be on equal plains, you must remember your place my dear! It doesn’t matter that you hold a full-time job, or are a CEO, my daughter when you get home after a long day you must ensure household bathrooms are scrubbed, dishes done, laundry finished and dinner placed on the table by the time your “man” gets home.  Why? Because that’s what society has learned from every advertising agency across this country. Every television sitcom since beerbefore Leave it Beaver!  Just turn on the TV and notice who the advertising is geared towards.  Hint: It isn’t men, domestic partners, children oh no! It’s all geared towards women still running the household and slaving over every aspect of their families life! But of course its easy to see why, because while watching these advertisements women are either married to the stupidest man in the world, are struggling single mothers or are surrounded by little genius children who dare not lift a finger out of fear Harvard will call cancelling their tuition. Wait no that is real life, so forget that, you are screwed.

Your love life can no longer revolve around finding a partner, falling in love and living happily ever after! Todays woman should date as many men as they want, date them all at the same time (they do on the bachelorette) play mind games with them as though you are on survivor then cast them aside for fun! Hell it’s what men have done for years so good for you! Marriage is an oxymoron anyways! But be prepared, as with your male counterparts you will be labeled a variety of names and most of them posted to your Facebook page, or at least linked to it! No longer just fodder for someone’s amusement inside your inner circle, by the water cooler at the office or gossip within the grocery store or PTA meeting. Now there is a Facebook page dedicated to your demise. Don’t worry only 500 likes so far. If you are lucky it will hit a thousand before the day is out moving you up in social status! Good job Snooky!!!

Eat to stay healthy, or skinny, or skinny and healthy! You know what I mean, our society has plenty of chocolate covered everything to help you keep that unwanted weight off while pandering to your obvious weakness as a woman for sweets! So plunge into those chocolate fiber bars or 0 calorie yogurt cups that help with digestion.  Hey they are allimages-22 there to ensure you become much skinnier then you really need too, helping you fit into that size 0 dress. You know why? Society says so fat ass.  The modern-day, Abercrombie and Fitch social scale of lard goes something like this; Size 4 you are a pig! Size 5-blimp! Size 10-rehab for food addiction.  HEELLLLOOOOOO!!!! Size 0,1,2 or 3 and well its obvious you aren’t eating enough and in need of serious help you crazy bulimic! But shit its ok because you look FABULOUS!!!!! Remember Binge and Purge!!

AAhhhhh my little strudel, don’t get discouraged at least your man can eat what he wants when he wants and that should satisfy you emotionally.  Remember if a man looks a little overweight he is considered “slightly out of shape”.  If a man has a belly of any proportion images-23its obvious he is spoken for and well taken care of by some generously loving woman. If a man is sculpted with chiseled abs its quite obvious he is either gay,  bi-sexual or a slutty player in which case you should have no contact with this handsome prick what so ever. (Just ask your father)

Drink beer and belch with the boys, you will be forever known as a rude, classless hick. (Tomboy)  Drink wine and hang with the girls you are of taste and elegance ( Snobby Bitch). Drink hard liquor at the bar and you are a “Ball buster”! (Dyke) Don’t drink at all? (Square) In which case you might as well spray yourself with man repellant, cause you soda water sipper are probably a granny panty virgin. (not that there is anything wrong with that)

Speaking of underwear. Thongs are the greatest underwear ever invented! Just ask any guy they will tell you! What they wont say to your face is once a thong is spotted you are labeled, easy, a tramp and everyman is looking for that little Y at the top of you dress line or peeking out from the edge of your “skinny” jeans the moment you walk in the room and bend over.  Like a heard of wolves searching for a wounded rabbit your scent tracked and observed from the quiet corners, crowded tables and single seats lining a images-24room! In the mans world it is a rite of passing to be the first reporting a thong sighting! Yet hhmmm, you never seem to catch a woman drooling, slinking around behind men looking to see if they catch a glimpse of those Hanes briefs or boxers? That’s right the thought of a vagina cradled just so, far outweighs a mans premonition in regards to the banana hammock as Gods gift for all women to behold.   But don’t worry sexual harassment be damned at some point the truth about you both will come out! Can you say office Christmas party or coffee corner drivel?

Drive a Subaru, Miata or 4×4 truck and you are self-righteous, country hick or gay. Drive a mini van and you are a soccer mom, drive a high dollar foreign car and you are a mafia wife (well taken care of).  A man can drive what he wants (except the Subaru) and he is either thrifty, fun-loving, intelligent or a hunter. Sucks huh?

When you do decide to become a mom life gets better in the social world of today. The mini van is a must or else you wont fit in with the cool moms. (competitions to see who can haul the most kids to meets, games etc..)  If you and your husband work and raise kids your husband is a selfish bastard and you will always be seen as frustrated and incapable of handling all the challenges associated with basically being a married single mom.  If you put the children in day care you are heartless, uncaring and shouldn’t have brought children into this cold, hard world. But don’t worry, because your full-time working husband is still selfish and insensitive in regards to your emotional suffering.  If your husband stays home to raise the children and you return to a full-time position, well then society thinks your husband is a complete failure and shame on you for forcing him to stay home and take care of your kids! That’s right my dear it’s a lose, lose for everyone, especially the children.

I could go on an on but this is just a small sarcastic glimpse at what awaits you as an adult woman in today’s world.  So my advice to you is this.  Remember your dad is always here for you and will support you anyway I can, then tell the world to kiss your ass and do what you want to do! Live life the way you want to live it, heck that’s what I did and so far its working out just fine….

Seriously though stay away from the chiseled abs guy, he is only into himself and he is nothing but trouble plus I am not ready to turn a nickel in a state facility for hurting him badly.

Love,

Your DADUnknown-14

Brain Freeze

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Well my darlings let me take a moment to apologize for my current lack of substance! You see there seems to be a wee bit of a problem with my writing style lately.  There is none! No style, no words, no wisdom, no funny stories, no nothing! Just me, sitting behind my desk, staring into my computer screen wondering, hoping, praying that something, anything will end up written on this blank page before me. This usually ends up with me daydreaming about chocolate instead.

It actually isn’t even centered around what I may or may not have to say. There are tons of ideas swirling around in my head like fresh spun cotton candy! My problem stems from being able to capture these little gems as they whiz by from one side of my brain to the other.  Just when I think I have one of those squirrely little buggers captured for exploitation, my brain just FREEZES! That’s right all active brain matter freezes leaving me with the look of a pale-faced fresh corpse at the county morgue.

It also appears that my ability to type has lost its “mojo”! For some reason I went from a self-taught keyboard wizard to johnny hunt and peck! My thumb is whacking the space bar at random and my left hand seems to be encroaching upon the right hands territory without permission! There is a full-scale war going on between the two of them within the boundaries of 78 little tiles of statehood.  The flashing position line on my screen has advanced and retreated more times than I care to count! And for whattosugrste thatg theredsi nope   hope form e anyymogre? SEE WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH!

I can’t tell whether Alzheimer’s is taking hold or I am just losing it mentally from stress? What was I rambling about again? Oh yes, Jello in the cafeteria is really quite good if you get it just after it comes out of the cooler.

Dogs and cats will never get along, women will always wonder why men feel the need to fix everything and children no matter how hard we try can and will never allow you to get out of the house on time.  Wait… sorry, sorry, my bad, wrong storyline.

So as I was saying, my brain is fried, my ability to cope shattered and I promise, any day now between a cup of coffee and a fifth of whiskey more stories about life, love and the pursuit of happiness, I mean children will be forth coming.

Heavy sigh…

Betty….

Reflection

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Your eyes squeezed tight, small arms wrapped around my neck with the grip of a sailor, a body so small and warm, full of love, wonder and amazement.  I can do no wrong, say what I please and its funny. You love me.

A lizard in a hand, dirt under your nails; you ask questions about anything and everything.  Why is the sky blue dad, why are the stars bright dad, why do cats hate water dad, when is mommy coming home dad, why do you burp when you drink soda dad? They never stop these questions.  Secretly, even though I sigh the heavy sigh while moving in and around the house with you in tow, I like these questions.  You son are developing a sense of inquisitiveness that is inspirational. I answer each one the very best I can and the look on your face after each answer is priceless.  You love me.

Crying, screaming, it can’t be done dad! There is no possible way! Horrible shrieks of nonsensical gibberish spew forth from your mouth as time after time I push, you fall.  Peddle I scream, leave me alone you bellow in return, NO I retort; now point it straight and peddle the darn bike! Gritted teeth, glare of a thousand deaths and finally you are riding your bike! No more falling down, no more drama or tears, no more hearing “I can’t” leaking from your lips! You ride by me, big gaping smile, laughing, giggling, and then laughing some more. I have set you free, you love me…

Getting up to one knee, tears streaming down your face, I walk towards you fighting every urge to run. As a young person striving to become every bit the man you envision nothing would destroy your self-proclaimed reputation more than your father running towards you after you have fallen down. For the tears are not for any pain you may feel, a scrape, broken bone, or sprain. No the tears come from the second of fear you felt as this 1000 pound animal got the best of you, the tears also hold a smidge of anger.  Anger within yourself as you didn’t sit that ride; you knew better than to give to this studs unyielding ways but as he charged and bucked at another horse you looked where you shouldn’t have looked, pulled when you shouldn’t have pulled squeezed when you shouldn’t have squeezed and he got the best of you.  Oh don’t get me wrong, you rode him long and far (for that I am beaming with pride) but in the end the horse won out and that tear of embarrassment stings the most.  So up you stand dusting yourself off, clearing your spurs, wiping the dirt from your face.  Walking across the arena you gather him back up as he stands patiently waiting for you, wondering himself what just happened.  You have forgiven him because it’s in your nature, but he will not get the best of you again.  You ride by me; smile a dirt covered smile and then slide slowly back into the herd.  You love me…

Got one! A message relayed time and again from both sides of the boat as fish after glorious fish are reeled in, then landed.  My daughter on one side, my youngest son on the other with my oldest and middle son working the lines helping me keep tangles from happening and hooks filled with bait.  Somewhere in the middle of our journey I gave up fishing for myself.  The two older boys seeing their dad tire from keeping lines jump in to help take the pressure off.  We all laugh as the middle son talks my daughter into kissing the fish! But kiss the fish she does and then tosses back into his face! We laugh and laugh some more as stripers are caught and tossed back into the water. One child hooks a flounder and another lands the largest crawfish I have ever laid eyes upon! As the sun slips out of sight our old blue boat slowly putts its way back to the dock. Not a noise can be heard as they all stare off into the distance, tired, well fed and filled with family.  They love me..

You left in a hurry, a trip of great importance, wishing I hugged you one more time, I am left here wondering how things are going, what is happening, who you are meeting, if it’s all you dreamed it would be! Time ticks away and I act like it’s no big deal but inside my stomach is turning in knots! You have spent your entire life trying your best and with small adjustments here and there you always have succeeded.  I know this is what you want, I know it means a new start and I must let you go, but my heart aches at the prospect.  So I wait..  12 hours, 14 hours, like a faithful hound dog, I wait and wonder..  You send me a picture of you and your childhood friend, smiling from ear to ear holding acceptance certificates! You have succeeded like I always knew you would, my eyes are filled with tears, my throat is tight and dry, and soon you will be leaving us. It hurts but feels so good at the same time.  The first on my side of the family to get into a four-year college, your mother and I are beside ourselves!  Pride, joy, and excitement fill my senses as we look forward to all that awaits you.  As your father, you became everything I dreamed you would be and the world is just waiting for you to take it and do with it what you want.  I love you…

I am a lucky man to have four children to love; they have filled my life with emotions I never dreamed possible.  Each one of those paragraphs describes a moment spent individually with a child, starting then ending with my oldest.   These are moments that will forever resonate inside me for one reason or another; a look, a smile, a tear, some pain; They are all important and weave the fabric that is our family.

I am lucky to be so loved…..

 

 

 

Destiny

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Staring across the counter I see a boy dazed and confused, sweat beads upon his upper lip, lost in a barrage of questions that he cannot bring himself to answer.  His schoolwork and grades are slipping, he does not know why. Time spent in a classroom he cannot answer to what; a combination of blame and distrust hovers thick and dark like smoke in the air. Homwwork or none, tests taken or not, assignments finished or lost, a blackhole appears to have swallowed his brain.

Wondering why he behaves in such a way, acting out with such fervor, withdrawing into a shell behind an impenertrable fortress of emotion. I realize he sees me, not for who I am or the counteless things I have sacrificed for him, but as I saw my father. Have I forgotten what it is like to be a child?

No answer will be good enough, the feeling of stupidity overwhelming, daunting, immoblizing all but the pounding beat of a heart. Knees shaking, rage seething, teeth grinding.  Taught to speak your mind yet not in the presence of an adult during certain times that is at best confusing, because children are to be seen and not heard.  Not a word seems to pass through that porthole known as a mouth without an excuse vilifying the moment. But why?

Does the hypocrisy of parenthood travel from father to father? Can I not grow as a man, become a father who stands upon my own two feet without repeating generations of mistakes? Am I destined to become something I chose not too simply because cause and effect have burrowed into my pshyche, leaving me with unwilling lessons learned then placed ever so carefully into a tool box deep inside my brain to draw from when needed.

He moves like I move, laughs as I laugh, is impulsive, irresponsible, idiotic at times.  Disrespectful on occasion with authority yet kind, caring and generous to those he cares deeply about. He strives to be the center of attention and will do anything for a laugh. But is this all a genetic flaw or is he gleaning all this behavior from watching me? Soaking in my every movement like a dry sponge looking for damp releif.

Not willing to concede this truth of generational discourse before I can snap back into reality it is to late. My voice has raised, growling like a starving half rabid junk yard dog the pale look of disbelief tells me more than a Stienberg novel ever could.

Have I set these wheels in motion? Will he truly become just like me? Has years of self made promises to become better than the parent before me flown out the door like yesterdays trash?

A shoulder slump, a tear rolls gently over a rounded cheek as recognition of self made failure comes to fruition in his mind.

I cannot berate his behavoir towards his siblings or others as he reacts with the same exasperation that draws his eyes from within my shadow. An ear that listens quietly as tiraids rule upon a celluar network as if the conversation was considered private inside the confines of a truck.  Mimicking, learning, digesting any and all mannerisms that may help him in the future.  Me not seeing the ugly circle that may emerge from my lack of filter.

Staring across the counter he stares back as a young me and I stare back at him as my father, and there it is the circle is complete.

Destiny.

A letter to my High School Senior

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A letter to my son the high school senior

As your father, I have spent an innumerable amount of time thinking about the inevitability of you becoming a high school graduate this year, heading off to college along with you walking out the door into the world as a man.  There for I feel as though it is time to “check in” with regards to the realities of life surrounding you these days.

Where are you mentally?

Do you feel as though your mother and I have prepared you for a life away from your family?

Have I presented a good image of not only a male figure, but a man for you to reflect upon and draw strength from when emotionally or physically drained?

Do you have an inkling of strife, injustice, immorality, ethical shortcomings, death, financial ruin, and some of the day to day struggle this world will lay upon you?

Can you keep an open mind and remember that everyone in this world deserves to be treated as a human being? No more, no less than you would treat yourself?

Have we taken the time to enforce a belief system which lets you see people for who they really are? Not the facade they may hide behind or trappings they live within, but who or what lies beneath? Separating the good from the bad, the kind hearted from the evil spirited? Can you spot an intelligent, well rounded person from a poop spreader at a hundred yards?

Here are a few things I think you should know.

This country is yours for the taking, by that I mean whatever suits you be it play, work or just day to day life, do it with fervor, passion, love and intensity as God has given you one life, no more, no less and we never know when our number is up. So do what you can for not only yourself but those who surround you and those who need your help.

When was the last time I reminded you it is better to give than receive? Not gifts of tangible make up, gifts of hard work, sharing, compassion and the best gift of all, love.

Remember that “love” is not just a word to be tossed into the wind like withered leaves of fall.  Today people use this word as a bargaining chip, it is held hostage for emotion, traded like commodities to be sold to the highest bidder. There is no way you can honestly love another unless you can love yourself. Like who you are, be proud of the things you enjoy and participate in with pride and never let someone else change that about you because then you are just living for that person and soon you will cease to become yourself. That is not love, I don’t know what to call it but love it is not, for love is a two way street where you are appreciated and enjoyed for who and what you are and that feeling is mutual. Love cannot be forced, sometimes love just isn’t there and that is ok.

Love is a feeling so strong it grips your chest, tears your heart, makes you cry at the thought of losing its powerful hold.  Love is a lump in your throat, sweat upon your brow, a smile behind your face, a caress that lasts forever yet only a second passes. Love will make you dance though you don’t know a step, giggle when all alone, long to be in the presence of that you love the moment you have left love behind.

Notice son, not one statement I have made compares love to sex, for sex is an act, you don’t need love for sex; you only need an urge and a willing partner. Oh many will try their best to persuade you that love and sex is in fact the same beast, but lo they are not, they are as separate as water and oil. Only the weak of mind combine the two, strongly claiming the one (sex) to be nothing more than love itself.  But love, true love will leave you weak at a touch, warm in the cold, happy even during the hardest of times. Love true love is what you have left when time grows short and the light grows dim, when you can hold someone’s hand asking for nothing more than that moment in time, love will guide your way.  You will learn all these emotions and figure out how to use and learn from them and one day, long after I am gone I hope you will smile at the love I have shown you.

Relationships are like walking a tight rope; sometimes the rope is large and easy. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt there will be no trouble and that rope holds strong and true safely carrying you across the pitfalls of any relationship. Other times that tight rope is small and shaky; your fears continue to evolve, leaving you wondering if you should continue risking it all, possibly even plummeting to your emotional death or do you turn around to find another rope more to your liking.  You will walk them both and all I can say is learn from each journey, so when the right tight rope comes to cross you step out with confidence that it will hold, leading safely across the relationship crevasse towards joy and happiness.

This country was built on a political belief system.  Do not under any circumstance let your friends decide what that belief may be.  There are many parties to choose from and you need to look deep inside yourself and determine which one best suits you.  I am fairly sure you know your father is conservative, but that does not nor ever will mean you should be.  As your father I welcome any choice you make and look forward to the intelligent conversations we will have over such a selection.  Truth be told, I call myself a Demublican.  Both Republican and Democrat as there are many wonderful ideas and strategies surrounding both parties.  Whatever you choose do not hide in the shadows, this country says you have a voice so use it while you can.

Stay healthy.  You will go through a phase in your young adult life where you will abuse your body by staying up to late, eating horrible food (delicious mind you but not healthy eating) and drinking way too much.  It happens to us all and the only thing I can say is never forget about staying fit, eating right, not indulging too much. Moderation is and always will be the key to social survival.

You will be tempted to do stupid things all in the name of fun and humor. Some you will get away with creating memories that last a lifetime, but remember before choosing to risk it all, ask yourself; is the juice worth the squeeze?

Always be a leader not a follower, stand up for what is right and admonish those in the wrong.

In conclusion

Remember your roots and those who helped you throughout this crazy journey called life and no matter where you are or what you are doing, I promise your mother and I are thinking of you as we will always be your parents.  You have been a joy to raise son, I can’t believe you are almost a grown man, the time has flown. I miss the little boy waiting for me to return to the fire house with a teddy bear in his hand.  I have enjoyed watching you succeed at dang near everything you have tried. You continue to leave your mother and I spellbound at the ease with which you make life appear.  We are incredibly proud of you and know beyond a shadow of a doubt what a fine adult you will become.  The door is always open; this will always be your home and remember our love for you is eternal.

I am and always will be proud to call you my son.

Dad.

I have finally discovered it’s a lie!

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It’s a lie, it’s all been one great big fat lie! I don’t know what to believe anymore! My inner self-worth has been annihilated, any resemblance of an ego obliterated and then there is the whole trust issue! Yeah that’s right I said it, T R U S T….. How on earth am I to trust anymore? Huh? Huh? What? Yeah I know, its like impossible now!

Maybe I better go back to the beginning.

(flashback mode) diddledoooo, diddleeeedooo, diddleeeedoooooo

Fourth grade and Mrs Schultz asks: Betty what do you want to be when you grow up? Now first of all its a really nice Norman Rockwell image but COME ON!!! What kid in fourth grade truly knows what they want to be when they grow up!

I throw out the only answer that comes to mind. Now before I tell you let me just preface by saying these where the days of TV shows like B.J. and the bear, White line fever and of course my personal favorite Smokey and the Bandit! “10-4 good buddy, come on back you got the Schoolboy 9 on this end!”

So if you havent guessed it, my choice of all the wonderful far-fetched career paths to be pie eyed and moon struck over was that of the truck driver! 18 wheels, coast to coast, my adventures would be never-ending.  Hauling materials to those in need and maybe even solving crime along the way.  My truck was going to be a cab over Kenworth (red) with more chrome than a 57 Chevy! Yep I had it all figured out.

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Unfortunately Mrs Schultz didn’t see it that way. For as soon as I spun my web of fantasy over the 18 wheeler I then heard from her terse red lips the common denominator that would haunt me for the rest of my educational experience. A truck driver? Are you kidding me? Son this is America, where you can be what ever you wish to become.  A images-18smart kid like you could be a doctor, or scientist, a policeman, fireman or heck if you work hard enough at it one day maybe even the President of the United States! Apparently according to everyone elses standards becoming a truck driver did not fall into the parameters of becoming what ever you want in America!

So whats a lad to do? I did what any other young man in my position would do, I tried to become everything but a truck driver. Farm hand, dishwasher, construction worker, salesman, cowman, delivery driver, dairyman and so on. You know what? I hadn’t become educated at all.  I struggled all through school, I was never tested to see if I had a learning disability or if the courses were above my comprehension level.  Always scolded for poor grades and reminded by my parents alongside administrators that with a little more effort maybe I would amount to something. Reminded constantly that in America you can be what ever you wish, as long as it isn’t a dishwasher or farm hand, construction worker, salesman, cowman, dairyman etc…. All the things I actually enjoyed doing.

When high school was over it felt as though a giant burden had been lifted from my soul. No more daily disappointment, no more struggling through classes, trying as hard as I could only to receive a C or D grade. I didn’t graduate with my class, I finished at a community college over the summer, testing and passing my GED with outstanding scores in every subject! Confusing huh? Either way I had that paper in hand, and it was time for me to enter the world, where I worked as a construction worker, dairyman, car salesman, cowman and overall farm hand.  I was happy. It suited me, I didn’t make any money but I also didn’t care.  My family was confused with my choices, these jobs to them had no future, no means of long-term sustenance.  It wasnt what parents wanted for their children in America! Nope, here in the states anyone can be anything and do what ever they choose.  Want to be a doctor? Just find the funding, go to school and whala! You are a doctor, revered by all who see you and the talk of every mothers book club! She must be so proud! He works on a dairy? Oh honey I am so sorry he let you all down. (must be a sign of poor parenting)

I finally got the nerve one day to ask my boss if I could drive his 10 wheel tank truck. He said yes and after two years of hard work, long hours and very few days off I earned the opportunity (key word being “opportunity”)to get behind the wheel of his 18 wheel hay truck. A few more long days of practicing backing it up, moving it around the dairy both loaded and unloaded and before long-wait for it-wait for it- have you guessed yet? THATS RIGHT MRS. SCHULTZ I WAS DRIVING A SEMI-TRUCK ALL OVER NORTHERN CALIFORNIA!!!! WHOOP WHOOP! She was blue and chrome and covered in shiny aluminum and she was all mine!!!

I spent ten years driving hay trucks, logging over a million miles. When I decided the dream wasnt all it had been cracked up to be (no crime fighting you know) I went back to school and after 5 years of working 90 hour work weeks, volunteering at one fire department while working part-time on Sundays (the only day off I had) I landed a full-time gig as a firefighter for the department I continue to work for to this day 18 years later.

So I am sure you are scratching your head wondering where the lie is? Betty acquired a respectable job after all? What the heck?

Today I am surrounded by children of all ages. Helping at schools, my wife being a teacher, having taught High School Fire Science for 5 years, 4-H, FFA etc… And what I see scares me. Scares me to the very core of my being, and because of this lie perpetrated upon myself and generations of children it is only going to get worse.  I see children walking around with their heads full of shit! I see a school system developed to check the boxes, not explore the possibilities, I see bright inquisitive minds  molded, compressed, held back, all to meet a systems ideal of how children should be taught.  As if all minds worked exactly the same, all brains absorbed information at the same rate, all eyes see exactly the same information you the teacher have so carefully placed upon the school board.

When I look into a classroom or gaze upon a group at practice it’s so obvious there little gears are all turning at different levels.  Ask them to perform, if you are truly paying attention then you will see one maybe two get it the first time, three-nine get it the second time and 3-5 are still processing with one or two so utterly lost they use humor or anger to hide their mistrust of the educational system, coaching and the adults who have lied to them all along.

Why are we as a society standing by, allowing this to happen? We preach children are our future then walk away, dropping the most precious soul we have at the school door hoping a state-run system will prepare them for the world! The United States ranks 17 in the world for education. That is 17th out of 40 countries, I am sorry not everyone gets a trophy on this one people! Wake up! Our children are learning how to check the boxes, they no longer have the ability to think for themselves, they need multiple choice answers to make an attempt at anything and I am sorry if this pisses anyone off but why aren’t we testing them early to determine what they ARE good at instead of filling their heads with shit! Lying to them constantly by telling them its ok, you can be what ever you want to be! Just try harder next time! No matter how hard you try or don’t try, everyone will get a trophy, everyone will get our prescribed education, everyone needs to understand you can have what ever you want or need because you are an educated American which leaves you automatically entitled to it all!

Liars!

How much better would our society be if all children were tested, thusly developing a plan to educate them accordingly. Children from 1-12 grade would develop a stronger sense of pride through accomplished work.  Work that not only do they have the ability to understand but actually excel at! WOW what a concept! Educators knowing who has the mental acuity to thrive in college bringing our countries A game to the highest level.  Educators also knowing who will thrive in trade schools and wow what a difference they will make with workers proud of their jobs, bringing careers to the highest of levels because they have found success through hard work and understanding of the processes associated with these career choices.

Listen I know it’s not that simple, but I also know whats happening now is not working. It didn’t work when I was a child and it surely isn’t working with 30 years of revisions. I spent the better part of my childhood ashamed that I was stupid, terrified of tests (something I still struggle with as an adult) and mentally not prepared for the world by my parents or my teachers. To this day I feel lost when I can’t figure something out, ashamed to ask for help, in fear of being reminded of just how dumb I really am. Why? Because that’s the education system I was raised in, told to sink or swim, toe the line or be towed, then patted on the head and reminded I can be what ever I want to be! It was all a lie.

images-16You cannot be anything you wish to be, and a society that frowns upon those who wish to become part of the blue-collar group is a society destined for failure through the creation of uninspired and lazy human beings. Chastising them will only push them away from what they love, not teaching them the basics of blue-collar work and cheering their successes will only develop more animosity and hatred towards society.  At some point a person tires of hearing how their choices are a failure and they just quit. It’s an ugly circle and you can see its effects daily in the news.

On the flip side how many children who are naturally quiet, reserved and fearful of the monster that is our 40 child classroom one way of learning educational system are freaking geniuses? How many undiscovered talents quietly sulk in the rear of classrooms across this country because fear keeps them from learning? Future Mensa card holders never to discovered due to a system that would never find them.

Lets stop the lie. Lets go back to fostering young minds, drawing out creativity, celebrating the individual, and developing unashamed, caring human beings filled with knowledge, empathy and love.

So yes today I finally figured out it was all a lie and no matter how hard I try I am not going to become the President of the United States, but if we could just become fifth in the world of education, then maybe everyone can have a trophy….

“A young head filled with shit, will eventually become an older self entitled shit which in turn will blossom into an adult piece of shit! Useless to themselves and society as a whole because they just dont give a shit.”

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A cry for help…….

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A few years ago a promise was made.

I Betty, promised without outside influence or undue strain to lose weight, become healthier both physically and mentally. I Betty promised to change my eating habits, giving up three square meals a day (ok my meals were really more like a long rectangle) of grease, fat and yummy goodness, for the more reserved, deliberate, granola eating, salad munching variety. I also promised to cut down on my love for fine beers! Dark beers, light beers, heavy beers, bitter beers, and smooth beers, if it gave head in a glass I was in! (Read into that what you will, I aint your mom)

Why? Why did I change my ways? Give up the good life? Stop adhering to my strong belief that if God hadn’t intended me to enjoy these devilish treats then he wouldn’t have created someone to create them for me! Why? Why you ask?

Because my son told me he didn’t want me to die!

Kind of grabs ya by the old ticker don’t it? Imagine these pie shaped eyes looking up at you as he asks; Daddy doesn’t being overweight kill people? Daddy my teacher says alcohol is bad for you and that some people even die from drinking it. Daddy why do you smoke cigars? Aren’t they made of tobacco? Tobacco kills people doesn’t it? I have seen the commercials dad, the ones with the smoke that looks like a skull creeping in and killing a baby, dad I seen it!!!

Yeah it’s like that. What do you say to that? How do you approach it? An honest child’s question deserves respect! It cannot be cast aside and made fun of jovially as you talk up a good game with your buddies! No! You have to actually listen and either come up with one hell of a great lie to justify your obvious ignorance as far as the child is concerned or actually get down on one knee and apologize to the kid as though you were in freaking confession and praying for a reduced sentence on the hail Mary front! Now those questions were really me paraphrasing a conversation held between myself and two of my boys at different stages in their lives. The elder won out with tobacco and the junior won out with health and wellness.

Now two almost three full years after the latter round of questioning involving eating and weight loss or gain as it were for myself and I have lost almost 25 pounds! I am in absolutely the very best shape of my life! I have run in a few 5K’s, practiced with my eldest’s cross country team, run the “Tough Mudder” and completed it in a respectable time with my wife and a few close friends! I currently am lifting weights and riding my bike ten miles to work! It is fantastic the way I feel! Now don’t think for a moment I am bragging. Oh no my children, I am merely setting the stage, drawing you a picture for what I am going to say next because I am at a quandary, a roadblock, a wall of great proportions in my narrow view of life and it just wouldn’t make sense without having given an accurate description of events.

So with that statement along with what appears to me as being a fair picture drawn here it is…..

I LOVE CHOCOLATE!chocolate

There, I said it! I love freaking chocolate! I see it in everything, cake, ice cream, candy bars, bacon (yeah I said bacon so what) smores, little truffles, m&m’s, cookies, hell they have even jammed chocolate in granola bars, puffed it into cereals, wrapped it around drinking straws, created a martini based on chocolate! Its splashed over nuts, caramel, fruit, peanut butter, wafers, bugs (yep even insects get the chocolate treatment) and they have even made chocolate flavored medicine!

It’s everywhere! It makes me sweat when I see it! I tremble and my knees weaken! But that and that alone is not the worst of my confession, oh no!

Because….

Because you know what goes great with a gorging of chocolate, regardless of its source? What really brings the chocolate lover in you out of the closet? BEER!!!!! It helps wash down the guilt all that chocolate leaves adhered to your soul! Then you know what happens after you have a few too many beers washing down all that chocolate? YOU EAT MORE CHOCOLATE!!!! Before you know it your mouth is all dry and sticky from devouring the previous chocolate morsels so you better open up a few more beers, because gosh darn it you can’t wash down all that chocolate with 12 ounces, nope chocolate is a 16-24 ounce minimum!

Then it depends on what kind of chocolate you are eating! Cheap milk chocolate you say! No problem any domestic light beer works great! Snooty dark chocolate, that takes a micro brew and heaven forbid you’re eating the sweet sinuous, melt in your mouth English chocolate, because then, all bets are off! It goes with everything!!!! YAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!

beerNext thing you know I am a bloated toad lying on the couch trying to hide my stomach distension from the family while tossing beer bottles under the couch and shoving candy wrappers in the cushions! Feeling much like a super model with the need to “purge” I am constantly looking for an out, trying to detract from my obvious discomfort and keeping all little ones at bay as one fly by would lead to the courts discovery of beer vapors emanating around the lip/mouth area!

Much like a fat man wedged deep inside a Duncan doughnuts delivery truck, it is not a pretty sight! I am known far and wide for my chocolate locating ability and like the fabled ant eater has a nose for ants I can smell chocolate before it hits the parking lot! I will sit straight up in my chair, nose twitching as the wife asks; what is it boy, what do you smell huh? What do you smell boy? She pats my head as slowly I start panting and before long with the stature of a bird dog on the hook I freeze and point. Chocolate found, chocolate soon to be destroyed!

So you see my dilemma? I am weakening, my resolve is expiring, the goodness I have done for my body is one thing, but the fat kid inside me is winning the fight! I work where food is always present, I am surrounded by friends and family who enjoy a good beer or two and lately stress has ruled my life forcing my inner demons to emerge! I am going down people, I am going down hard! Hands are shaking, knees clacking, nose twitching, and my beer hand is strengthening its grip! I am going down, yes I am going all the way down like a sinking ship on the open sea!

If you see me on the street you’ll know, wedged in a bakery window slathered in chocolate cream, lying on the sidewalk outside a 7-11 covered in M&M’s with Coors light littering the sidewalk, face first in some chocolate cake with butter cream frosting outside a restaurant or passed out in the local Big Spoon with fro-yo down the front of my shirt and every chocolate topping they offer scattered around my $45.00 yogurt. No longer a hero to my children….11950-550x-franceso-de-molfetta-new-idols-front

So don’t laugh, don’t take pity on me, I did my best, held on as long as I could. Please just walk on by and remember how strong I used to be if even for a little while. Then tell my kids I loved them.

Sigh…………

*This is not a true cry for help but self-deprecating humor of my love for beer and chocolate. No chocolate or beer was used in excess or harmed while writing this piece.

Im BAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!

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im back

Hello dearies’ Betty is back.

So lately I’ve really been having a hard time coming up with anything to write about. My life has held quite a few ups and downs and along with the occasional 5pm nip’ to sooth the soul, well let’s just say Betty is plum tuckered out!

But not to fret! Today while working around the station I made a promise to myself that tonight would be the night, and if it meant writing about the very first thing popping into my shriveling brain (age you know) then darn it so be it!

Tantalizing huh?

Anyways I am seated at the computer and well, ok, uh, here goes, we are writing about the very first thing that POPS into my brain. Hmmm-maybe after I adjust the seat a little…. There we go, now how about a sip of lemonade? Yes, yes I feel something profound coming on….. Turn off the phone, maybe a little music to stimulate the senses, that may work don’t you think? Ahhh wait a minute I think I may have something, Yeeees, yeeeeeees, YES!

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches!peanut butter

Now everyone who’s enjoyed old Betty’s company knows that alongside the world-famous hot dog there is nothing I like better than a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich! The thought of one right now leaves my taste buds drowning like the bottom of Niagara falls! Beloved by children around the world this little piece of culinary mastery has been the staple of lunches for generations! Bringing smiles of pleasure while ingesting with a crisp cold glass of milk and a Oreo cookie! (We will cover Oreo’s at another juncture)

MMMMMMMMM-M! Yep, filling, satisfying, tasty and good for you too! (Don’t give stats on nutrition I don’t care as far as I’m concerned it’s next to perfect) But where the real secret in the Peanut Butter and Jelly (PB&J) sandwich lies is in how it’s made or “crafted”! I know freaking crazy huh? All this time you were just slapping those two ingredients together and BAM! You thought you were in the clear! Sheer perfection done! But no my children, sadly it’s not that simple. The preparation, the dynamic, the love placed into every one of theses sandwiches is legendary and with its tradition must be honored or held with the highest regards! But before I get into the specifics let’s take a stroll down memory lane to understand the origin of the PB&J.

History

In the early 1900s, peanut butter was considered a delicacy that was only served in New York City‘s finest tearooms. The product was first paired with a diverse set of foods such as pimento, nasturtium, cheese, celery, watercress, and on toasted crackers. In a Good Housekeeping article published in May 1896, a recipe “urged homemakers to use a meat julia davis chandlergrinder to make peanut butter and spread the result on bread.” In June of that same year, the culinary magazine Table Talk published a “peanut butter sandwich recipe.” The first reference of peanut butter paired with jelly on bread to be published in the United States was by Julia Davis Chandler in 1901 in the Boston Cooking-School Magazine of Culinary Science and Domestic Economics. By the late 1920s, this sandwich eventually moved down the class structure as the price of peanut butter dropped. It became popular with children. During World War II, it is said that both peanut butter and jelly were found on U.S. soldiers’ military ration list, as claimed by the Peanut Board. –Wikipedia

Good enough for a soldier than damn sure lip smacking good enough for my little heathens I say! Julia Davis Chandler I love you for thinking outside the box, throwing caution into the wind and not allowing Boston’s elite to scoff at the idea of pairing the ever so coveted peanut butter with a poor man’s ration of smooshed up fruit! Humph!

Hey that reminds me; you got your chocolate on my peanut butter! No you got your peanut butter on my chocolate! Hee hee, a topic of peanut/chocolate/ desert delight best held for another time.

Now I am not sure sweet caring Julia knew at the time, but to build a perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich one must choose the proper ingredients, hand-pick the perfect bread and place them all together in sequence or you just end up with a soggy poo sandwich!

  1. The bread must be white! Not that marketing ploy I am healthy for you fake wheat/white bread they are selling oh no! Smooshy, white, bleached white, squishy, soft, smells straight from the oven white bread! Now for a more sophisticated connoisseur, gathering a few slices of sourdough in place of white and serving the sandwich as such will wring the hundred-dollar bill from any man, but for the heart and soul of this sandwich nothing less than real white bread will do!
  2. Jelly is a sticky subject (all pun intended). There are spreads, jellies, jams, preserves and whatever that stuff is that comes in the white wrapped generic bottles from the bottom shelf of every grocery store in America! In my humble, little ole opinion, jams and preserves are the only way to go! If you are taking the time to enjoy the fruits Mother Nature has provided on a sandwich paired with the butter of a peanut then for the love of god it had better EXPLODE with fruity flavor! Now there are multiple choices when it comes to the jam/jelly arena of battle! But for my taste buds only Strawberry or Blackberry will do. You can use what you want, but please remember this; marmalade is not a jelly, I don’t care what anyone tells you! Oh it looks like jelly, its labeled jelly and its makes a good attempt at tasting like jelly! But jelly lives on the wrong side of the tracks people! Over yonder where the rich kids dare not go! So never and I mean ever pair that homemade blue-collar, loving life jelly with a marmalade! baconYou are just asking for trouble and the next thing you know kids in the town are going to want to dance! And hold a school dance on the outskirts of town in an old grain mill… Sorry got stuck in the 80’s for a minute. But even so, It just aint right.
  3. Peanut Butter comes under many guises. We have creamy peanut butter-smooth and soft like a fat baby’s underbelly! Heavenly taken from straight out of the center of a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup! Crunchy peanut butter-rough, gritty, nutty it shouts I am alumberjack lumberjack, or Sasquatch lives here! This crude creation melded so slightly with white collars soft frailty overloading your senses with a feeling of all natural while sliding into something from Ralph Lauren. And of course last but least there is Natural Peanut Butter all oily and un-mixed, kept in a fridge for fear it will actually age and turn more disgusting. Yah that’s all I got on natural peanut butter. I see that jar come from the fridge and I instantly roll up a newspaper and smack that person on the nose screaming; NO! NO! YOU PUT THAT BACK! NO! BAD PERSON, BAD PERSON!
  4. Last but not least. Place an equal amount of peanut butter on one slice of bread as you would jelly/jam on the other side of bread. Too much peanut butter and the sandwich sticks to the roof of your mouth which can be like asking your tongue to wrestle stretch Armstrong. Too much jelly and a diabetic coma is in your future complete with desert like thirst and the need to lick some coffee grounds to even out the sweetness. Place both halves together gently, careful not to squish as squashing creates oozy, seeping jelly bread and enjoy!

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So there you have it, the first thing that came to my mind encompassing the four major components of the Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich.

Hope you all are glad I am back! Hee hee hee!

pb&j

What’s new

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Hello everyone! Just a note to let you all know Betty is still alive and kicking. Since returning home from Haiti I’ve had a hard time writing. Oh many stories have been crafted but placing that final polish has been a challenge.

Polishing those stories has also been further hampered by the fact my truck was broken into and my laptop was stolen with every original story ever written by yours truly. During my haste to perfect my knowledge of the new laptop I failed to back anything up so there you have it! A writer without a pen or muse.

What’s new?

I am currently assigned to the Rim fire in Yosemite valley thusly my time continues to be limited, but I promise more to come in the next few days as I try my best to write from my phone!

Happy days ahead

Betty…..