Who Am I??

Who am I?

Several times in my life I have pondered this very question.  Now of course I know my name, where I live, who my parents are and where I came from not only geographically but through genealogy as well.  But really, who am I? One would believe the answer to be forthright, rapid in response, easy to answer, yet it never has been in my experience.

Who am I?

Father                                  

Husband

Friend

Firefighter

Cowboy

Biker

Athlete

Writer

Fisherman

Oh sure they all sound great! Are these labels I have placed upon myself the answer to who I am or are they the answer to what am I? After all I am a father of four who is married, leaving me the husband to one awesome woman. I try my very best to be a good friend to those who have decided to keep me in their “circle of trust”.  Firefighter is my day job; it has definite highs in conjunction with incredibly heavy lows which leave enormous scars upon my soul. I live the life of a modern day cowboy, riding horses and working cows a couple of times a week with other cowboy friends.  Cleaning stalls, fixing fence and building barns are all part of my daily routine. I used to be a solid steadfast biker (motorcycles), anything with two wheels was my motto, but that was before children. Occasionally I am blessed with the ability to ride a friend’s bike and I look forward to the day when I am back on two wheels of my own.  In my youth I was an average athlete and as of late I have reconnected with my athletic, competitive side.  A writer only in effort as nothing I have written has ever been published.  The majority of my writings are nothing more than the rambling drivel of a father looking to express his feelings laden with humor and sarcasm.  I am always hoping to connect with other parents so we may all laugh at not only our own shortcomings, but the trials and tribulations of raising our two legged little spawn to adulthood. And as for being a fisherman, well I love to fish, enough said.

These all describe through title various aspects of my being, but like I stated earlier; are they who I am? Or are they nothing more than the byproduct of my existence?

Who am I?

Every time I ask this question of myself the answer seems to drift farther away.

Who am I? Then, when trapped and stunted by my own inability to answer this question to satisfaction, my brain decides to throw a curve ball by asking; can I become more and will that sustain me?

As a father I stare into my children’s eyes and pray someday they will be able to answer this very same question; a question which has haunted me my entire life!  A moment in time when they will no longer go through life feeling as though a piece is missing or there is an unanswered question that looms on the horizon as is with myself.  But a solid foundation of fact that leaves them proud of who they are and what they have become. Able to stand up and answer the question; who am I, with conviction and pride!

Sadly I cannot.  I can spout reflections on journeys past; live through the titles that bear my name, yet for some strange reason I cannot tell you who I am.  Maybe it’s a philosophical question that can never be answered?  Maybe my expectations are set so high that I may never achieve true knowledge in this regard, maybe I have A.D.D. which leaves my wheels spinning and my brain chasing butterflies.

Maybe I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam? 

But I wonder,

Can you answer the question; who am I?

My Words of Wisdom for the Day

Those who walk through life with blinders on shouldn’t act surprised when blindsided. Just saying..
Carry on that is all….

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My Words of Wisdom for the Day

Before Microsoft and the I-anything allowed us to disappear from reality at the touch of a finger, there was this amazing super computer.  Small and compact this computer was not much bigger than your fist. It’s lightning fast and able to figure out complex problems through verbal commands.  Sometimes it wouldn’t give you the answers right away, you might have needed to work for them a little.  But with time and effort the reward was yours in the end.  Much like the computers of today, it can’t physically take you anyhere, but it will transport you wherever you choose to go.

This wonderful supercomputer is called your brain! Turn off one device and turn your brain back on, you might be surprised by what you learn.

Carry on that is all…

My Words of Wisdom for the Day

If all is not as it seems, could it seem like I was in Vegas instead? Just wondering. Carry on that is all..

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My Words of Wisdom for the Day.

When opening ones mouth to insert ones foot. Shoe size in no way changes the outcome, or the taste. Just saying..
Carry on that is all…

My Words of Wisdom for the Day

 

I have only one true ambition in life and that is to become a better human being today than I was yesterday.  Just saying..

Carry on that is all…..

Chocolate

CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE 

Hello everyone: My name is Betty and I am a choco-holic!

Everyone: HELLO BETTY

Betty: Its been six long days since I have partaken in the sinful, uninhibited, mind altering ecstasy that is chocolate!

Everyone: (round of applause) good for you Betty, good for you!!!

Betty: as much as I enjoy and long for your love and admiration, I have failed you all…

Everyone: heavy sigh with muttered speech around the circle

Betty: (Shoulders slumped)

I awoke this morning from a restless night of tossing and turning, cold sweats ravaging my system.  I tried contacting my sponsor but she was unavailable( ok she was asleep right next to me)!  It was terrible, TERRIBLE I TELL YOU!!!! I can hear it (chocolate) calling my name in the middle of the night! The house is quiet, and yet there it is, taunting me, calling my name! BETTTYY, BEETTYYYY, COME EAT ME!  

The chocolate rustling from within a satchel, squirming, rubbing together so the cellophane makes a very distinct sound.  MMMMMM Chocolate! I just can’t stand it! I CANT STAND FREAKING STAND IT!!!!!

This is the way I picture a support group devoted to the insane addiction that is chocolate. Together as one we discuss the evil side effects associated with loving chocolate just a little too much!  guidance and help provided to get you through a day without finding yourself holed up in a downstairs closet, gorging on a fist full of dark, creamy sin, hoping no one from your family finds you in this degrading example of uncontrollable excess!

It’s truly a struggle for us chocoholics! Its our drug of choice! Having a bad day? Nothing a Dove bar can’t fix! Gotten in an argument with your significant other? Well that Reese’s peanut butter cup is just the ticket! Kids giving you a migraine? Stand back Mounds bar you are all mine and if you don’t like it, I’ll eat your little buddy Almond joy too!  It’s that simple! One lick, one sniff, just a little taste, you’re hooked and there is no coming back!!!!!

Making matters worse our society has screwed chocoholics to the wall by enveloping certain holidays with candy! Any holiday where candy is present is a holiday where chocolate rules the day!  So when Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and the ever so dreaded EASTER come around we sit, salivating at the mere prospect of having one day, just one where we can stuff our faces in public without scrutiny from the fitness police!

Hell at Christmas time what is the gift of choice for most business partners, acquaintances, distant family members and friends?  SEE’S CANDIES!!!! Yep that’s right they opened a store dedicated to nothing but CHOCOLATE!!! Its like finally getting my medical marijuana card then being told I can only shop for product once a year. One month and one month only the dispensary opens up allowing me to fulfil all mymarijuana needs!

So whats a guy like me to do? A man who can smell chocolate pulling into a parking lot at 300 feet! A man who over the last 2 years has lost close to 40 pounds by fighting, working out and struggling to eat healthy! A man who on Halloween night watched his children divvying up their candy treasure like a hawk eyes its future dinner from above, waiting for the right moment to strike! As the kids placed their treasure back into Halloween sacks for safe keeping, my mouth salivating at the thought of locating these sacks then prying them from there secure spots for future pillaging.  I know its wrong. I really do!!

Yet I can hear the chocolate calling, like a zombie only living off the urge to bite, I follow my snapping jaw towards fresh meat, it’s there and chomping into it will bring a frenzied relief to my suffering.  I struggle with this feeling on a daily basis.

A valiant effort was put forth last night, but before long as with all addicts I succumbed to the urge, finally giving in to my inner demons around midnight! Looking back on it now, it was sad really; There I sat on the floor in the kitchen, bags in hand sobbing uncontrollably as piece after piece made its way down my gullet.  Melted chocolate on my lips, chin and hands. I cried out of disgust for the 3200 calories I had just ingested, I cried for letting myself down, I cried for the hypocrisy of teaching my children not to steal from each other and yet here I sat red-handed (or chocolate-brown handed as it were) stealing piece after piece from someones secret stash!  Oh yes a pathetic shell of a man covered in milky way, caramel, peanut butter and dark chocolate.  But what made it the biggest failure of all?

It felt good! Sugar, chocolate, sweetness coursing through my veins, bringing relief to the cold sweaty pains of laying in bed knowing it was downstairs!

I was found in the morning surrounded by candy wrappers, in the same location on the kitchen floor.  I awoke from my chocolate coma, disoriented, blurry eyed surrounded by little people staring down at the lump of a father who laid before them.  I could have asked for forgiveness but they have heard it all before.  No tears, no anger, no hurtful words were spoken.  Just the woeful tired look glaring back from eyes of disappointment.   I sat up and tried to speak, but three heads looked to the ground as the oldest pointed upstairs, suggesting that I leave.

As I headed upstairs, feeling as low as a snakes belly I heard the littlest one mumble to my oldest; I found him first and kissed him to wake him up. He was sweaty and it tasted like a milky way.  That is weird right?  The oldest quietly answered back it was weird and together they decided it was time to hide what remained so I may never ever find it..

As I turned the corner at the top of the landing, my daughter was overheard mumbling; maybe we should just give the chocolate away so we never end up like dad..  They all agreed.  See maybe I am teaching them something after all…..

My name is Betty and I am a chocoholic…..

A fathers pledge….

 

To my daughter,

I pledge as your father too;

Always do my very best at protecting your young eyes and impressionable mind from the cruelties this world has to offer you.

Prepare you for life as an adult by allowing you to fail with gentle guidance towards success.

Tell you no and mean it.

Dance with you for no reason at all..

Allow you to be a princess when you feel like it, while celebrating the moments your tomboy rules the roost.

Understand that crying isn’t just for girls but big dumb old dads as well.

Not punch the first boy who dumps you and makes you cry. Unless you want me too?

Take you fishing without your brothers.

Teach you to hunt.

Brag about you not only when you are not around but when you think I can’t see you.

Have tea with you, even if that includes your horse and the two goats.

Hold your hand.

Take you on ice cream dates once a month.

Embarrass you in public. It’s just good clean fun and lends you to developing an awesome sense of humor.

Teach you all the devilish, sneaky and sometimes cruel ways of the adolescent boy.

Teach you all the even harsher ways of the mind bending adolescent girl.

Remind you on a regular basis that before someone else can love you, you need to love you.

Remind you that I love you.

Always answer the phone when you call no matter what time it is.

Pick you and your friends up anytime day or night if you have partied a little to hard.

Always call you “my little girl”

Walk you down the aisle on your wedding day without crying in front of your future husband.

Support what ever career choice you make, it’s not for me to like or dislike your choices, only to gently give you my opinion as an elder man with many experiences under his belt.

Teach you no matter what some friend, boyfriend, or stranger may try to convince you, your father will always listen to what you have to say. I may not always have the answer but I will do my best to find one.

Let you see me fail.

Always tell you the truth.

Remind you there are evil men in this world, but none as ruthless as your father when it comes to someone threatening, hurting, or stealing his daughters innocence, self-worth or life. I will find them and I will make them pay.

Try my very hardest at being a good dad, I will let you down on occasion as you will I. We are human therefor mistakes will be made, but as long as you know in your heart I will always love you there is nothing we cannot conquer together.

Love dad….

 

 

A hunting we will go…..

 

SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH! Be very, very quiet……. I’m hunting (you fill in the animal here)!

Pull up your boot straps, put on your best camouflage, sight in your rifle and fill up your camel back! We are going hunting boys! That’s right 2 days two nights of hiking, scouting, hiking, climbing, hiking, crawling through the brush quietly, hiking, doing a lot of praying, and last but not least did I mention all the hiking!

Its deer season and my son wants’ nothing more than to bag one of California’s finest mule deer! He’s read the reports, checked on the weather and sighted in his rifle.  He has painstakingly watched every episode of any and all deer hunting associated shows on television and believes he’s ready for a serious case of “buck fever”!

“Buck Fever” noun

Nervous excitement felt by a novice hunter at the sight of game.

Yep he wants to feel buck fever bad and as his father I can’t help but sit back and reflect upon my childhood.  All the wonderful memories flooding back like it was yesterday! Seeing the want to fulfill another step towards manhood in a Neanderthal, me man, I provide sort of way is so emotionally moving.  Holding a rifle, staring down the sight tube at your intended victim, knowing there will be food on the table tonight! You need to be man enough, steady enough, and calm enough to lay down that one shot, the only shot you’ll get before that buck runs for the hills!  Ah the pressure, the excitement, the anticipation!

One problem…

I have never hunted deer.  I have hunted pigs; I have spent more than my fair amount of time and a considerable amount of money fishing.  But my youth retains no memories of ever going out into the woods to hunt deer.  The memories I hold revolve around horses, sheep, 4-H and working on our ranch! I have never felt the longing for hiking endless hours in the woods hoping to find one deer, all alone just waiting for me to kill it!  In fact every time I think of hunting deer, it’s not the prospect of delicious venison that awaits me, or the thought of a giant rack hanging on my wall as some form of testosterone filled pride for all to see.  Quite the contrary! I go to a much darker place when thinking about hunting deer.  A place so dark and foreboding that even the strongest willed man would not survive there without shedding a tear or feeling his soul shake to the very core!

For you see when it comes to hunting deer the message is crystal clear and has been for every man, woman and child since; August 13, 1942!

DON’T GO INTO THE MEADOW!!!!

The movie Bambi has held a polarizing grip upon all of our heart strings for 70 freaking years! If you think for one second you can sit there professing how you didn’t cry when Bambi’s mom died at the hands of the hunter! Then I can sit here and call you a fat faced liar!!! Every person I know cried like a baby when Bambi’s mom was shot! The sound of a rifle firing, any rifle firing flashes me back to that very moment when it was assumed she had been killed.  Like a bad case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder the images are all too real! As full grown adults our stomachs get tied up in knots while watching Bambi with our children for the first time because we know! We know she is gonna die and we know that a very detailed explanation of life and death are going to proceed after the hysteria and Kleenex party is over! But what message did Bambi send us self centered human beings? What has Bambi’s legacy taught us all?

Bambi taught us all about respecting nature! Bambi also taught us that animals like humans have families who depend upon them for love and guidance.  Bambi allowed us all to glimpse into the life of a fledgling young buck.  From the joys of birth with birds singing all around to the struggles of a young lad making friends in a new somewhat rough neighborhood! Bambi taught us that it doesn’t matter what kind of animal you are, we can all be friends! It also taught us about the emotional toll taken on a young boy who has just lost his mom! But best of all (this one was a real shocker for yours truly) did you know all animals can speak English? It’s true! Oh they hide behind their wiggling noses, and teeth grinding grass burning jaws, but don’t let that blank stare fool you! They can communicate and will not hesitate to do so the minute your back is turned!  But even with all these revelations about the animal community, one thing remains true! Bambi gave us the lesson of a lifetime! You see; by going into the meadow you will die! Simple as that! Step one foot into the meadow, any meadow and meet your fate at the hands of a plaid wearing, gun toting fool who will kill anything on site!  Lesson well learned Mr. Disney, lesson well learned!

As humans we are supposed to love all creatures big and small no matter how tasty they may be smothered in mushrooms, onions-garlic and barbecue sauce!  No sir, we must all wake up, putting away our blood lust, welcoming all forms of vegetation for nourishment like the great Brontosaurus or Giraffe!  For you see a plant doesn’t hurt, a plant doesn’t feel, if you cut the plant does it cry? If you shoot the tree does it bleed? Plants don’t have families curled up sleeping with them out in the open or like the rabbit live in a fully furnished five bedroom hole in the ground complete with kitchen and dining room table! The message is clear, share the earth with all things great and small but don’t eat them.

So by following Disney’s obvious wisdom and not wanting to offend the spirit of the late great Walt Disney himself, how then do I support my son and his venture with a clear conscience? How do I let my son walk into the wild, hide in some trees, then kill some poor Buck, some deer’s husband, some little deer’s father who happened to wander out into the meadow? How? How I ask you?

I know, I’ll pretend we are a family of T-Rex’s. Problem solved! Even Walt Disney can’t look down from heaven and fault us for that!

 

P.S. No vegetarians were harmed in the writing of this post.  Being a vegetarian is a choice and as with all choices made in life to be respected.  Eggplant for everyone!!!!

Singing in the rain…

 

0230 hours

Sleeping lightly wondering why I can’t trail off into a good old-fashioned deep sleep.  Tossing turning, hearing every creak, rattle, and moan from within our old farm-house.  Frustration setting in…

0245

The sound of Parker (our littlest one) stirring about has my radar on high alert. I wait, anticipate the inevitable, but there is nothing. So I attempt drifting off to sleep again…

0305

Dad? Dad? DAAAAAAAAAD!!!!! Huh what? Crap I finally fell asleep! Its Parker, he is holding his blankie while quietly mumbling into my ear. I wet the bed dad.  (heavy sigh here). Ok buddy; I tell him. Go get into the shower and please be quiet, others are still sleeping.  Parker looks straight into my eyes (acknowledgment) and whispers; ok.

Begrudgingly I start stripping the young lads bed. Thank heavens we still wrap his mattress in a plastic cover for just such an occasion.  A little Lysol disinfectant, some fresh sheets and this little sprinkler will be back into slumber land in no time. I can’t say the same for me as I know this will be the straw that broke slumbers back.

Moving with the gate of a zombie, my room service maid duties begin to flow when suddenly I notice a noise coming from the bathroom. Ok maybe a “noise” is being polite. Its more like an out of tune wail? Or maybe a cat has slipped into the shower? Either way its loud, and is certain to wake up one or more of the slumbering beauties residing under this roof! Blundering towards the bathroom, swinging open the door, young Parker crooning away some unknown collaboration as if he was Frank Sinatra pulling a little wind down after a successful night at the Sands! In my loudest whisper I remind him to please be quiet, for others are sleeping! He pulls the curtain aside and screams WHAT, I CANT HEAR YOU DAD!

Are you kidding me! Quiet down son others are sleeping! He says sorry, closes the curtain and resumes showering.  Before I can clear the hallway into his bedroom to resume my duties as head maid, he breaks into a full mantra of songs.  All original renditions mind you! But a mini concert none the less has unfolded within the confines of our upstairs bathroom.

I turn on my heels as if preparing for inspection from R. Lee Ermy himself! Fists clenched I start back down the hall with a snappy military gate! Little bodies begin rustling from the noise which only increases my blood pressure and helps grind my teeth tighter. Grabbing the door handle yet again I have full intentions of squelching someones musical creativity with the ferocity of a grumpy elderly next door neighbor banging on the door yelling  “keep it down or I’ll call the police”!

Now in Parkers defense, I am sure he believes his version of Ave Maria is concert worthy to the point Luciano Pavarotti would shower him in rose pedals and praise. But at three in the morning after being told to please keep it quiet, the critics are miffed and the local daily revue will not have nice things to print about his performance!

Opening the door I realize all noise has stopped, along with the shower.  I am greeted with a very hearty “good morning dad”! As a little giant marches past wrapped in his best robe, smile on his face its obvious the only thing he hears is the roar of his adoring fans! Following him down the hall into his room the prima donna promptly throws half his clothing from the dresser to the floor in an attempt to find the perfect outfit! A star of the bathroom opera must, after all look their best after a performance! Settling on a dapper pair of shorts and night-shirt he gazes my direction as if to say; you may go now and with the flick of a wrist flops into a freshly wrapped bed!  Head hitting the pillow the lad is asleep before I can clear the threshold.

0430

Still awake, can’t sleep, wondering whose child he really is and strangely wishing for another performance from the bathroom opera! Oh well maybe I’ll read a little bedtime story….