This Is A Time Of Need

Well I just wanted to let people who read this know that I will be away for a couple of weeks because of projects and getting ready to move. I have to do other things. See you on Sept 6!!!

Don't Throw Me Over

I stood at the top of a waterfall. I looked down. I could see rocks and below. I did not want to fall. If I did, I was pretty sure it would hurt. I was pretty sure I would die. The waterfall was at least 50 feet high. I was a little scared.

Here begins a tale of when I was 14. A part of my family decided a trip to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula was a great idea. My mother and I went with her boyfriend at the time, she had quite a few boyfriends at the time, and his niece. Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, or UP, is a pretty rugged area. It’s surprisingly unpopulated and is surprisingly beautiful, especially in the fall when all the trees change colors. People say how great New England is in the fall and I think it’s only because they haven’t been to the UP.

Anyway, my mom’s boyfriend, John the dumbass, knew the area up there pretty well. He grew up in the UP. It showed, honestly. He was… well… a dumbass. I didn’t raise the guy, but I met the people who did and they were… well… dumbasses too. His old man was the kind of militant fuck who terrorized his children with grandiose threats he was more than happy to carry out. I remember stories from John the dumbass about getting a fork in the arm if he didn’t wipe his face or if he accidentally put his elbows on the dinner table. I often listened to tales of public ridicule poor John the dumbass suffered when his father was in a foul mood. John the dumbass’s mother however was a peach. She was one of those peaches you pick up and find it maggot infested and smelling of putrescence, but with an attitude of superior peach arrogance like it’s the best fruit on the planet. She was a bitch of the worst and most manipulative kind. My mother, who was constantly up for an award for the person with the lowest self esteem in Grand Traverse County, was deeply distraught one day when the peach-bitch told her she didn’t like her. My mom spent the next week trying to figure out how to patch things up and the peach-bitch just smirked those maggot teeth while John the dumbass tried to console my low self esteem mother to no avail.

Now you’ve got a pretty good idea of life with John the dumbass. Actually you’ve got a pretty good idea of what all my mom’s boyfriends were like but that’s not the point of this particular column. But trust me I will get to that one day indeed and when I start making money off this sucker I’ll cut my mom in on some cash for giving me such a storied past to write about.

Well like I said there I was standing at the top of that waterfall but I neglected to mention that the dumbass’s niece, Tori, was standing there with me. Now Tori was a dipshit. I say this because she just didn’t do things that were all that well thought out, and she did them a lot. It was painful and hilarious to be around her at the same time. She was nice enough and meant well. Plus she was academically smart, so that helped. However, on top of a 50 foot waterfall with deadly rocks staring up from below is not your favorite place when the person next to you lacks essential logical abilities. The absent abilities I refer are these; a rushing current on the precipice of a cliff is not a good place to stand. Also the rocks can get slippery, another detail left unconsidered by our female heroine. Lastly, it was a little windy that day. Wind, coupled with rushing current and slippery rocks pretty much sucks on top of a waterfall. You may find yourself suddenly in a precarious position.
Guess where Tori was. Yep. She walked right out into the river to get a better look over, yes I said over, the waterfall. I stood next to her on a little patch of dry land with a waist high weed as my only friend. Dipshit took her time galavanting around in the stream when a gust of wind came along and knocked her off balance and she slipped on a rock. Guess what dipshit did next. She grabbed me and pushed me forward to counterbalance her. I was just as close to the edge as she was but I wasn’t stupid enough to stand in the water. I did what any self respecting person would do. I grabbed my friend the weed. I grabbed it with both hands. I grabbed it so hard and pulled that I yanked it from its perch, but it was enough to stabilize me, which in turn stabilized Tori. I gave Tori a scathing look and she had the audacity to ask me what was wrong. I spat at my feet and laid my friend the weed gently down on the ground next to the river.

All ended well that day as I’m sure you can see. I am here to tell this tale. I only saw Tori one more time in my life and John the dumbass is, thankfully, a distant memory, but that moment atop the waterfall remains vivid in my mind.

As always thanks for reading to the end. Until next time have a great week!

The Coffee Shop Sparks a Revelation

Today I sat in a coffee shop. My wife and daughter were there. We sat on top of a couple of big cushy chairs when my daughter asked if the man next to her was a guy.

The reason she did this was because, of course, he had long hair. I was embarrassed and upset. I told her that indeed he was and she proceeded to ask why he had long hair. I told her for the same reason I had long hair about 15 years ago, because I liked it. That seemed to sate her well enough and she started to play a roaring game of “I Spy” with her mother. I sat there and hoped the man with the incriminating hair would not look at me.

I couldn’t tell if he did or not but the man sitting next to me was an older fella with a pony tail. He had dyed it brown to stave off the nasty impedance of gray that people over 20 start to freak out about when they notice it on their heads. This guy was well beyond 20. I would imagine in his 60s and he turned to me and asked how old my daughter was.

“Three,” I said.

“Isn’t she kind of big for that age,” he said, “especially for a girl?” I told him that indeed she was tall for her age and that she recently played with a five year old who was only about 3 inches taller than my daughter. The man nodded a knowing nod. You know, one of those nods that confide wisdom and a life spent in observance of the world around. I was glad for that nod. It meant we were on the same page.

“They grow up fast at that age,” he said. I said, “yeah.”

“They learn everything too,” he said. I said, “yeah everything.” And by everything I was talking about a life where my daughter will end up blitzed by sex, drugs, and billboards telling her how she will look and of course those little caddy bitches that run around in groups she will call friends. Instantly my future flashed and my ideals were challenged.

“There isn’t a whole lot you can do either,” he said. I thought about this and agreed. This time I nodded at him. Only I didn’t nod one of those wise nods. I nodded one of those, “holy fucking shit nods.” I felt the helplessness a father feels when he realizes that his child will indeed grow up and will get to face all the badness out there.

I’m sorry. I’m not exactly an optimist. This doesn’t mean that I’m incapable of happiness. It simply means that I tend to look at what’s wrong with the situation more than what’s good. My wife calls this complaining. I tend to agree with her.

I digress.

The man and I continued to talk for a bit and the conversation turned toward divorce and how destructive the whole process can be, especially if there are children involved. He told me about a man that worked for him who was involved with a woman who just left him. The man then went to see the woman and found another man coming out of her new place and well we just left it at that. This couple had a child and we agreed it was sad. It was sad that the child will now grow up in a broken family. No matter what happens and how cool a step parent the child may end up with, that child will always know that something is inherently wrong with the picture.

“How many friends do you know are divorced,” he asked. I replied, “I’m one of them.” I got another nod. This time he pursed his lip and furrowed his brow in thought. It was still a wise look.

This got me thinking about the situation we live in. It’s a place where people don’t take themselves seriously and when they do they focus on bizarre stuff to make themselves different. I’m working through this as a write so bear with me. It would be easy to get lofty here and talk about what a shitty place the world is but I don’t really believe that. I mean there is a lot wrong, and I mean a lot. Many great things exist too. Ultimately I started to consider people and how they approach their relationships.

What I came to was this: simply people just don’t take their relationships seriously enough. I know people who got married with the caveat in mind that if things don’t work out they can always get a divorce. I know because I’m one of them. Thankfully things are different now for me and I’m confident I can work through anything with my partner, but I don’t think most people take this perspective. It’s the real feeling that when you are down, shit on and feeling bad that someone will be there. They may not be too happy about being there but they are there all the same and they help you up. As they help you up they learn about themselves as well. It’s this cyclical process that relationships that work go through periodically and make relationships that are a sham fall apart.

This process I call building. It’s like a house. You start with a foundation and if you want it to last you make sure it’s strong. Then you ad whatever you ad until the entire house is complete. Obviously I’m not a carpenter. The point is that you have to build a house and you get out of the house what you put into it. If you put shit into it, well your life in your house basically sucks. If you put your love, care, attention to detail, compassion and trust into it and use only quality material and builders, then you end up with something great. This great thing still needs maintenance to stay great. It still needs work to help it along and it will fall apart if you don’t do the right things with it and it will suffer if you put shitty material into it later on. This mirrors relationships perfectly.

That’s when I got it. I knew my daughter will grow up and become her own woman. She will face life with her own eyes. The good thing is that I’ll be there with her mom to help build that foundation. I’ll work to help her through stuff when she’s having a rough time. I’ll pick her up. I’ll always have a shoulder and I’ll always love her. This made me feel pretty good. Suddenly I, the pessimist, looked through the optimist’s eyes. At least I have nothing to complain about.

As always, thanks for reading to the end. Have a great week.