daughters – Page 2 – They call me Betty

The Face of Leukemia- Just look at me, really its ok.

December 27, 2013December 27, 2013 theycallmebetty6 Comments

Bald is beautiful

We’re all born bald, baby. – Telly Savalas

I collect hats. It’s what you do when you’re bald– James Taylor

It’s a great event to get outside and enjoy nature. I find it very exciting no matter how many times I see bald eagles –Karen Armstrong

What’s so brave about being bald? I’ve not fought for my country or found the cure for cancer I’ve just gone out without my hat on! -Gail Porter

You know it is interesting to me this stereotype associated with being bald. If you’re a man, it’s obviously genetic. Poor you, trudging through life with the same cranial cul-de-sac formed upon you as your father and his father before him. Unless of course you are a skinny, emaciated man then you must obviously be dying from some rare form of cancer. Or you just happen to be Billy Corgan jr. or Michael Stipe then ROCK ON DUDE!!! BALD ROCKS YEAH!

But what if you are a woman? Sinead O’Connors’ shiny domeness was by choice, a political statement against a traditional view of women. (well-played I might add) But what if you don’t have her “balls”, what if you are brought screaming and kicking into baldness? Seriously think about this, in our society a woman unfortunately is judged the moment she walks into a room. Not for her sunny personality or Mensa card-carrying IQ. Nope, she is judged for her looks. Make-up, clothing, body weight, eyes, breasts and of course her hair. That is right, men will either ogle a woman within the first 30 seconds, ponder ogling her over the next 30 minutes or write her off. In the mean time women within the room will smile to your face and talk shit the rest of the evening. Sorry ladies its true, I have witnessed more than my fair share of character assassinations based on any one of the above criteria not being met to perfection on more than one occasion.

People get real comfortable with their features. Nobody gets comfortable with their hair. Hair trauma. It’s the universal thing-Jamie lee Curtis

So imagine, carrying this social pressure your entire life only to wake up one day without one of these aforementioned 6 major sight line musts for survival. What would you do? How would you behave? Would you curl up into a ball and cry or say fuck it and march boldly into the world claiming my hair will not define me!

Jacy lost all her hair on or around the first week of December. It has gone from sadness to a fun playful experience then one of empowerment! She has come to terms with this loss, worn a few wigs to help with a social awkwardness associated with a woman not having hair, and in the end decided that 9 times out of 10 bald is beautiful.

Now while none of us can say with certainty what we would or would not do as it has not happened to us personally, I am proud of my wife for taking this strong-willed, brave stance. She does indeed have a perfectly shaped head and I think she is hot, hOT, HOT bald! Really, like she could never have hair on her head again and it would be ok with me! The woman is drop dead gorgeous! Throw in her stunning smile, caring heart and amazing personality, well ladies and gentlemen we have the trifecta of baldness!

But let me say this before I drone on too much about the woman I love and her shiny new dome. When we are out in public.

I see you.

I see when you stare at her as though it is wrong for her to be bald.

I see you when you look behind her and sigh as though you just cant relate. It’s ok, we understand if you cannot, but please don’t be fake.

While eating in a restaurant I see you staring, with your smart ass smirks, elbows flying into each others ribs while walking by outside. Moron it’s a window, if you can see us I can see you!

My ears may be 47 years old but your mumbles are not quiet enough. She hasn’t lost her breasts and even if she had you shouldnt be staring trying to figure it out so don’t look, she isn’t skin and bones so quit guessing her weight, and yes she lost ALL her hair, so stop wondering about places you cannot see and how much wax is being saved.

If you are going to stare don’t look ashamed when I make eye contact with you, walk up and ask questions, we are always open to discuss Leukemia and its effects upon our lives.

When you do have something to say, dont automatically behave as thought this is her last day on earth. The news media has ruined the public in regards to behavior when confronted with a bald woman. Smile say hello and ask away with glee! We are happy to be here and so you should be as well. Who knows the bald woman you talk with may have alopecia, thusly not really needing you to pray for them, unless you feel that will raise hair follicles from the dead?

If you have had a couple of drinks, your inhibition is lowered and you feel as though it is the perfect time to act like an ass with rude or inappropriate comments about this beautiful human being or any like her that may be in my presence, understand this, I WILL make it the very worst night of your life. I promise..

When my wife takes her wig off in the middle of a store and it shocks you, just chuckle. It is funny, we laugh about it all the time and will laugh with you I promise! But if you can’t chuckle politely than at least close your mouth, that looks funnier than her bald head and we would hate for you to feel bad about yourself.

Remember, people going through chemotherapy are no different from you and me. Most of them have an incredible sense of humor, some have survived the very worst of treatment, others are still dealing with an inner loss while a few are looking at just making it a few extra days. These people, these priceless examples of survival and strength, still need to laugh, love, talk, and feel. They still need to be accepted as the very same human beings they were before cancer. They know they are not the same inside and nothing will ever change that, but what they don’t need is to be reminded through ignorance, insensitivity and callousness.

Look into the face of cancer, tell me what you see.

I see LOVE…

The Face of Leukemia (December 18, 2013)

December 19, 2013 theycallmebetty4 Comments

SSSHHHHHHHH

Do you hear that? It’s the sound of silence. Normally right now I’d be cozied up in my captain’s chair, shorts on, comfy t-shirt, freshly showered with a hot cup of tea off to my right. Then carefully place my iPhone ear buds into place and with the stroke of a finger, “classical to study by” gently lulling my senses, firing a few neurons, stimulating a thought process into action.

But not tonight.

Tonight there is not a sound echoing through the corridors of our home. Four children off to sleep, two dogs snuggled up to a few human blankets while one stands guard at the front door and the other ones at my feet. I’m still in my shorts, we are out of tea and the silence is just to grand to ruin with any music of any kind. Yep pretty nice..

All Neurons firing properly.

A moment of pure heaven like this seems the perfect time for a bit of reflection covering the last 29 days.

Iran agreed to limit their nuclear development program
Chinese Spacecraft Change 3 safely landed on the moon
Paul Walker, Ray Price, Peter O’Toole, Eleanor Parker and Jim Hall all passed away.
Nelson Mandela as well walked towards the light.
Hanukkah has begun and Winter solstice is upon us.
School shooting in Colorado
Hospital shooting in Nevada
Oh yeah and that whole my wife was diagnosed with Leukemia starting a scary fight for her life.

Oh hey that last thing! Yeah funny thing about that last one there, because of that little bullet point I knew none of those things above it happened. Can you believe that? It appears as though my full focus was on one thing and one thing only. Apparently there was neither time nor wanten for me to flip on a television and search out these wonderous revelations. Seems as though reading, learning and living a life of leukemia can really skew a fellas sense of priority.

Case in point; just prior to cuing up the old blogger keyboard this evening my finger (on its own of course as I would never) clicked upon the Yahoo banner and up popped all these top headlines Yahoo believes I should know about. Amazingly enough not one of them held an accurate title as most were standard stretched truth “catchlines” instead. It also seems as though most stories revolve around “celebrities” as if our lives would wilt into the unknown without our latest gossip over Kim K or what the Jackson’s are suing over in regards to their dead iconic son. What wonderful philanthropy has lofted Brad Pitt to sainthood and why the hell is Angelina Jolie 98 pounds? So it seems as if by worrying about the effects of Leukemia upon my wife and our family, worrying about the hundreds of thousand United States citizens suffering from Leukemia and other forms of cancer every second of every minute of every day. My thought process is severely flawed. According to polls and data it appears the American people don’t care, but what they do care about is the Real Housewives of some dumbass city? Or perhaps how millionaires actually need assistance finding a date! Really? You are worth millions and you need to waste your money using Ms. Smartypants to find someone for you? COME ON! Not buying it! Then of course there is Kanye laying it all on the line, like a police officer or soldier, risking his very life to entertain us poor lowly citizens. Yep over the last 29 days I got it wrong…

I always knew being so wrong would feel so right!

So here I sit very content with these current choices as my wife sleeps soundly. Gone are the night sweats for now. No more needing to have me fetch a pain reliever at all hours of the night. Gone is that horrible aching pain associated with a feeling of her bones exploding while creating new life within her blood stream. Gone is the never ending headache. Gone is also her hair, all of it, everywhere, seriously, ok except her eyebrows which so far is pretty cool. But man can you imagine waking up one day to find all your hair is just gone? Can you? But anyways you know what isn’t gone? Her beautiful smile.

Jacy’s smile as I have written in the past is one in a million. Leukemia has not taken her smile from her face. She wears it proudly each and everyday. Leukemia is keeping some of her energy, which is to be expected, but even that is a battle she is slowly starting to win!

We met with Dr. Truong today and we still have a long road to go with 3 more consolidation therapies planned. (One week a month, for three months in the hospital for chemotherapy) We are also being referred to Stanford for a possible bone marrow transplant. Once at Stanford more data will be in and all our options will be revealed. But in the end, we are way ahead of schedule, her white cell counts are through the roof and the last marrow draw showed no immediate signs of Leukemia! We are beating this monster handily! Wait for it, wait for it, YES everyone that means we ARE Kicking Cancers Ass One Cell At A Time! Ok not really we but she…

So in the end I think I will keep the television off. In the end it appears that maybe just maybe whats going on around me, in my personal life might be a bit more important than whether or not Mylie Cyrus’s life IS a wrecking ball.

And at the end of the day, I think I’ll just sit here, relaxed, enjoying these tiny moments knowing the woman I love is sleeping peacefully and because of her will and tenacity I get to enjoy her for yet another day..

Listen up pumpkin!

November 20, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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 and 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.

You 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 before 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 all 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 its 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 room! 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 DAD

Brain Freeze

November 17, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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

November 6, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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

October 18, 2013October 18, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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

October 8, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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!

September 23, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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.

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 smart 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.

You 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.”

Im BAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!

September 8, 2013September 8, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

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!

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 grinder 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!

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!
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! You 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.
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 a 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!
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!

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!