Posts Tagged ‘life’

Did you have bad parents? If so maybe you’ll enjoy this piece I wrote about the 10 things parents do to ruin their kids’ lives.

10 Things Parents do to Ruin Their Children’s Lives

Whenever someone wins an award they normally thank God, their parents, and Harvey Weinstein. I’m going to skip over the first and last because I am no expert on either of those guys. Let’s instead focus on parents, more specifically how they can ruin their children’s lives. By the time a person becomes an adult they usually have an opinion on their parents, whether or not mommy and/or daddy ruined their chances at happiness. There are many ways parents can ruin their children’s lives. Here are ten of them.

1) Divorce:

My parents are divorced. I wouldn’t say it ruined my life, but it surely never helped me sleep at night. The saddest fact about it was that their divorce took seven years to complete. For two fatalistic people, they sure did plan to die before finishing the paperwork. The lengthy divorce was more a matter of procrastination than dividing up assets, which may delay the divorce process in wealthier families. For some kids though, divorce can destroy them. They will feel unloved by one or both parents and some may even think it was partly their fault. I was one of the lucky few kids who always knew my parents loved me, even if their divorce proved to me that love is painful.

2) Selling the family house:

When you buy a house and have kids it’s an obligation to keep that house forever. You should die in that house, or at least in the driveway or after falling from the roof into the neighbor’s yard. Not having a home to retreat back to whenever things go wrong in life is an unsettling feeling for me. I like to go with the Metallica attitude of “where I lay my head is home” to ease my fears. Times are tough so I understand why some parents, mine included, will sell a house. Understanding why someone does something still doesn’t mean it isn’t ruining someone’s life. Where am I supposed to keep the things I no longer want, but am too sentimental to throw in the trash.

3) Missing important life events:

A good parent to me is someone who does whatever they can to not disappoint their child, within reason of course. My older sister will still bring up the fact that when she was younger our parents missed seeing her in a baton twirling competition or whatever you call their “games.” My sister gave up her dream of turning into a professional baton twirler because of this. I was not alive yet, but if I had to guess my parents most likely had a scheduling conflict between the competition and a nearby bar’s happy hour.

4) Abuse:

Child abuse is never a good thing to do. That may seem like a “needless to say” statement, but unfortunately it’s not. I know mentioning child abuse completely ruined any fun you had reading this. I still felt I couldn’t ignore it completely. Then again, not attending your daughter’s baton twirling competition is pretty abusive so call this redundancy to the previous item on my list.

5) Giving life to the kid:

Nobody asks to be born. For some kids the worst thing you can do to ruin their lives is to give them the life. Whatever plain we exist on before we enter this world is probably a lot more peaceful. So I guess the lesson to be learned with this one is to not even have kids. Sorry for ruining your time-killing plans for the next power outage.

6) Having more kids:

Children can be incredibly jealous creatures. That’s actually not fair. All people can be incredibly jealous creatures. Introducing a new child into the picture can create dire consequences. I’m no expert when it comes to being a parent. I have had every virtual pet I have ever owned die on me. For further information on how having more kids can ruin your kid’s life, please see the first Rugrats movie. Those kids almost get eaten by wolves because the parents decided to have another kid.

7) Behaving childish:

I have often wondered at what age or life event most or all of a person’s childish behavior should be placed behind them. I still have no answer. The only reasonable moment I can think of is when you become a parent. After you are a mother or father it’s time to accept responsibility for your mistakes more than ever before. Behaving like a child sets a bad example for your kids and it will create a cycle of idiots in your bloodline. There are enough of those already.

8) Providing poor guidance:

Schools may have guidance counselors, but it’s really the parent’s job to guide kids through life. The best advice I ever received from a guidance counselor was to start seeing a therapist. Thanks passing the buck lady. Parents need to make an effort to provide their children with a healthy and happy lifestyle. Letting your kid balloon up in weight is terrible, something that specifically happened to me. What my parents could have done differently was not reward me with food. A good report card meant a trip to Dairy Queen. I was a really smart kid too, one who always got good grades because I loved my ice cream. Where did it get me? By the time I was in high school I was overweight, depressed, and a B student. I would have been better off forced into a daily exercise program, which would then lead to receiving a college scholarship.

9) Not being supportive:

The absolute best thing anyone can do for another human being is to support them. Where do you think calling a male friend “bra” comes from? It’s from the support they give each other. Especially at a young age, you should let your kids know they can do anything. Society will beat them down enough over time where they will think more realistically the older they get and realize that Weekend Shift Manager isn’t as heartbreaking of a career choice as a few other things.

10) Forcing anything into their lives:

New beaus following a divorce, activities they don’t want to participate in, a religion they do not believe, or anything else within reason should not be forced onto anyone. Of course at a certain age your child may develop a fetish where being forced to do things they “dislike” is something they pay cash to a strange lady on the street for, but that’s unrelated to this and completely goes in another direction. Kids are smarter than we give them credit for. Encourage them to do something rather than nothing, just never force them into a situation where they are uncomfortable every moment of an extracurricular activity. My entire life is an uncomfortable moment. There will be plenty for your kids throughout their lives, don’t go adding to it.

School is back in session and I thought this would be a decent time to re-post something I wrote for Yahoo about my favorite teacher of all-time and how she completely destroyed my hope of ever having a positive adult female influence in my life.

I only had a small handful of teachers who had a positive impact on me. In elementary school, there was my kindergarten teacher Mrs. Trani, a woman who always praised me and how well-behaved I was. Mrs. Trani insisted there was something special about me. In fourth grade there was Mrs. Hartbauer, a woman who was similar to Mrs. Trani and actually took an active interest in my life. Mrs. Hartbauer also insisted that there was something special about me. It was not until high school when I would have another teacher attempt to make a positive difference in my life. This woman was my 10th-grade English teacher, Mrs. Hill.

Tenth grade was the pinnacle of awkwardness for me and I think that was why Mrs. Hill tried to help me so much. My quiet demeanor and obvious social flaws made me an easy target to get walked over by other students. Mrs. Hill wanted to do whatever she could to limit the torment from life I would inevitably receive.

The English class I took with Mrs. Hill started off normal. It may have been after a field trip where she noticed I was sitting by myself that Mrs. Hill began paying closer attention to everything I did.

The first assignment Mrs. Hill took special interest in me was a brief one about what we wanted to do when we grew up. I forget specifically what I said, but it was something about comedic writing. Mrs. Hill stopped me on my way out of class and asked if I had heard of a local comedy club. I told her I had never heard of it and figured she was nothing more than a senile old woman asking strange questions. Mrs. Hill was in her mid-50s so it wasn’t such a preposterous proposition for me to believe. The next day, Mrs. Hill came in with a phone number for me to contact the comedy club about getting on stage. At the time I had no interest in ever doing stand-up comedy, so when she asked if I called, I told her the phone rang and nobody ever picked up. Two years later I actually did do stand-up comedy for the first time, possibly subconsciously thanks to Mrs. Hill.

For the rest of the year Mrs. Hill and I continued to have a very strange relationship, not one that ends with her in an orange jumpsuit. We bonded over the fact that I lied to her about having been to Buffalo. I owned a Buffalo Bills t-shirt for some reason and since Mrs. Hill was born in Buffalo, we became friends who would talk about different places in Buffalo, none of which I had ever heard of.

One of the final assignments we had that year was an oral report. The goal of the report was to teach our classmates how to do something. Lacking self-esteem in my bloodstream, I had no clue what I could have taught my classmates. The most beautiful girl in school sat two seats behind me. What did I know that she didn’t?

Mrs. Hill asked me what I would be doing my report on. I told her I had no idea and she suggested I do one of the examples, how to make a BLT sandwich. As a fat kid I took offense to this. I didn’t tell her I was offended though. Instead I said it would be tough to get the materials needed. My parents had separated a year earlier and even though my dad was around a lot less, I could have easily asked him to get me the ingredients for a BLT sandwich.

Of course as our relationship was, I lied to Mrs. Hill. I told her that my parents would not buy those foods for me. I think at that time Mrs. Hill believed I came from an abusive home where I was given a box of crackers to eat each day to survive on. Mrs. Hill was kind enough to offer to actually buy me the ingredients I needed. I told her not to because I have always been someone not to ask for favors. If Mrs. Hill had gotten me the necessary foods I might owe her something. I would be expected to help her move a dead body somewhere down the line.

I ended up doing my report on how to get rid of a stuffy nose. It was actually pretty good and a lot different from the others. Mrs. Hill had a big smile on her face during my report. Even better, the prettiest girl in school was leaning forward against her desk, unable to take her eyes off me throughout. She was amazed that sniffing salt water could clear out your nasal passages. For a few minutes, I had earned her attention.

My favorite thing about Mrs. Hill was how much she encouraged me to continue with my writing. My ninth grade English teacher Mr. Kane told me I was good, but Mrs. Hill practically begged me to join the school newspaper. I had no interest writing stories praising the corrupt high school government or doing coverage on how the cafeteria tater tots were no longer poisonous. Her encouragement of me meant a lot and I was lucky to have her as a teacher.

Unfortunately the story doesn’t stop there. The next time I would interact with Mrs. Hill would be two years later in twelfth grade. My English teacher that year was out sick so they had Mrs. Hill come in and babysit us for forty minutes. I had not seen her in quite some time and I knew she would be a little curious how my life had been going. I looked drastically different by then, having dropped a ton of weight, but I was still clearly me. Mrs. Hill would have so many positive things to say to me. She would have herself to partly thank.

An assignment was given to us and since it was late in the year and most of the class had committed to going to the local community college, we had little reason to care about our GPAs. Instead of doing our work for the day we goofed off. Mrs. Hill thought she would authoritatively walk around the room in hopes it would get us to do our work.

I was seated in the second seat closest to the door. Only a girl with the last name Adams came before my name, Tim Boyle, alphabetically. Mrs. Hill made her way across the classroom and over to me with her familiar friendly smile. We made eye contact and her smile grew even larger.

“Are you finished with your work, John?”

There was no mistaking it. She was looking directly at me. My favorite teacher had just called me the wrong name.

My eyes puffed out. My bottom lip dropped. For a few seconds my heart stopped beating then spun around in a circle. My name wasn’t John. In fact, it never has been. I have always been a Tim, Timothy, or Timmy; among other more insensitive nicknames.

“My name’s not John,” I said a little disappointed.

Mrs. Hill’s mind crossed over itself. Then she remembered who I was, “Matthew?” she questioned.

I shook my head. This guessing game would have gone on forever. Mrs. Hill, the one teacher in high school who made a positive difference in my life, forgot who I was even after two guesses. She walked away to the next aisle, never to interact with me ever again.

Out of all the things Mrs. Hill taught me, the most important was that nobody cares about us as much as we may think they do. Thanks for the terrible revelation.

peggy hill

I’m still in my 20s. It feels like I’ve been in this decade of life forever. I barely remember 19 and 30 still feels real far away. I suppose your 20s are supposed to be the best, right? You’re at your physical peak and you have quite a bit of disposal income because odds are someone hasn’t/you haven’t sat on your/someone’s semen and gotten pregnant.

After living enough of my 20s, I have come up with a list of the worst moments from this decade of pestilence excellence.

The Worst Moments From Your 20s

Whatever you decide to do with your life or force your kids to do with theirs, just make sure you never lie to those who choose differently; unless you want to. What do I care?

When I was a teenager everyone kept telling me things would get better once I hit my 20s. They lied. From 20-29 there are enough horrible moments to make me wish I was back to being a pimply-faced teenager with no direction in life. That was not a good time and to say I would sometimes rather be back there than where I am today says a lot about how hard “the greatest decade of our lives” can be.

1) When An Ex Gets Married:

Some of us wish our exes well. Others wish our exes would go to hell. It doesn’t matter what your relationship with your ex is after separating, seeing an ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend get married to someone else can really sting. The best way to get through this is to remember that marriage is a bond that is very expensive to break. Your ex is either going to be stuck with the same person for the rest of their life or have to get a second job to pay to end it. Loneliness never seemed so perfect.

2) When A Secret Crush Gets Married:

This is even worse than when an ex gets married. At least with the ex you had the chance to experience what life with them is like. When a secret crush you were stuck in the friend zone with for years finally seals the deal and removes their chastity belt for someone else you will literally feel your soul fly out through your mouth. You will have so many horrible thoughts racing through your mind. The only positive is that you will find the opening wedding massacre scenes to the Kill Bill movies really hilarious.

3) When College Ends:

In theory, college is supposed to prepare us for the real world. No. College delays progression into the real world. When you are in college everything seems so bright and hopeful for the future. When it comes to an end you hear Axl Rose’s voice in your head screaming “Where do we go now?” College’s finale opens up a lot of opportunities. Most of those opportunities involve job rejection, increased responsibilities, and bill paying. Suddenly, the Van Wilder movie makes a lot more sense to you.

4) When A Parent Dies:

When you are in your 20s your parents will on average be in their 50s or 60s. This is the age when parents begin to die. My mom died when I was 23. Blink-182 was kind enough to inform me nobody would like me at that age, but they skipped out on letting me know how much it sucks when a parent passes away. Perhaps worse than your own parent leaving this world, is when it happens to a friend. You have to look up the definition of empathy then learn how to show it. Remember, you’re in your 20s. Empathy and compassion are not your strong points.

5) When Friends Ditch You:

At some point in your 20s a good friend is going to cease contact with you. Heck, several will. You may even feel the need to do it to some of them. In your 20s you finally begin discovering who you are. Your first ten years you don’t care who you are. The teenage years are spent confused and alone. By the time you’re in your 20s you have a good grasp on things, or so you believe because you read some sociology book. There is nothing wrong with having new friends and moving on when the old ones run out of interesting things to say.

6) When You Reconnect With Old Friends:

One of the most overrated moments in life is the reunion. Your late 20s is your high school reunion, something I suggest avoiding. I am already plotting on how my high school reunion will be filled with stories about how I went crazy and live in the mountains now. I may have to hire a guy for that to spread the rumors. Reconnected with old buddies is fun until you see how old they got. Chances are, you got old too. If you ever see me together with old friends, watch your step. The floor is covered with broken dreams.

7) When You Find Out How Old Celebrities Are:

Nothing and I mean nothing can break a person’s spirit more than looking up the age of a celebrity, athlete, or musician they are a fan of then realizing the celebrity is younger. I feel as if I have to quit being a hockey fan because most of the superstars would have been freshmen when I was a senior in high school. The most constant celebrity I think my generation looks to is Kurt Cobain. It’s hard to accept that I am older than Cobain was when the Nevermind album came out. By no means am I an old person, but I feel as if my time at ever becoming a rockstar has already passed. I probably should have learned how to play the guitar if I wanted it that bad.

8) When Your Friends Have Kids:

Lucky for me none of my friends have had kids yet. My friends have enough trouble getting a reply on OKCupid let alone having another person interesting in starting a family with them. When people have kids, especially younger ones, they change. Their life becomes all about protecting those runny nosed mini-clones. Granted, I think your life should be about that when you become a parent. It is one of the greatest undertakings anyone can make. The bad comes in when you are the outside observer. Everything comes back to the children. You are forced to look at hours of photographs of the baby doing the same thing, practically nothing. For the sake of making everybody’s 20s a little bit better, I plan to wait until at least 30 to have children. There’s no way I plan to have a child until I at least stop behaving like one.

9) When You Look In A Mirror:

Recently I was browsing Facebook and saw the page belonging to someone who used to make fun of me for being fat. He was shirtless in a picture and he was fatter than I am now. This is something that happens to a lot of people as they age, they put on weight. In your 20s you don’t have to worry about much else other than the weight gain and slight balding. I am one of the lucky few who look a lot better now than I did a few years ago. To be fair I had nowhere to go but up. Mirrors are still my enemy. They are a blunt friend who never cares about your feelings. They are the first girl I ever dated.

10) When You Look At Your Bank Account:

Nothing is more important than money. I don’t say this in an “I’m all about the money” way. I really would rather never have to deal with money. Unfortunately I do not live in a country where body hair works as currency. The problem with money and being in your 20s is you finally have some and for the most part have no clue how to spend it the right way. Few people in their 20s have their careers set, especially in the first half. Many bank accounts belonging to people in their 20s have a number lower than their weight, which is already at an all-time low for some because food isn’t cheap. Keep in mind, each time you check your bank account the odds of them making an error and putting a million dollars in there increases drastically, so check it often. I’m being sarcastic. You have to wait until you’re in your 30s for them to ever make that mistake.

freddie-prinze-sm

(“This makes no sense to me. I shot myself in the face when I was 22.” – Freddie Prinze)

It has been a full month since I last blogged here. A lot has changed in that time. I’ve become a Born-Again Christian, sinned on my first day so I gave up and went back to a life of wickedness, ate some food (to survive), bought a new pair of shoes, ate some food (for pleasure), and slept once.

I could go into more serious detail on what I have been up to although my interests lie elsewhere at the moment. Instead I’m going to slowly and painfully re-post old articles I wrote for Yahoo Voices over the last year. This first one is about ten things I wish I had done in high school.

Ten Things I Wish I Did in High School

Life is full of regrets. One period of my life I regret a lot are the four years I spent in high school. There were so many things I wish I had done and never did. Here are 10 of them.

1) Throw a Big Party: It is the dream of every high school kid to be popular and well-liked. I consider being popular and well-liked two different things because they are. My parents never let us have friends over due to the fact we lived in a very messy house. I should have taken advantage of having a messy house. When my parents were away, my mother in the hospital for depression and my father away doing things I am afraid to realistically confront without a therapist nearby, I could have had the entire school over and not had to worry about cleaning up the mess. I am a terrible person for not realizing this until now.

2) Ask a Popular Girl on a Date: There were more dates in my date and raisin oatmeal I had for breakfast this morning than ones I went on in high school. At the time I always thought the girls were cruel. Now I know the girls were probably too intimidated by my awkward silence and excessive weight. My facial eczema made them think I was already taken. I probably could have gotten a pity date at one point if I bothered to try. I was a really nice kid and they all knew I would have done their homework for a year if they went to the movies with me once.

3) Join a Sport Squadron: In middle school intramurals I was a beast when it came to flag football. In high school they stopped using flags and instead started using steroid filled shoulders to stop a running back. I was on the high school football team for approximately two practices before I realized I was going to die of an asthma attack before the homecoming game. The cruel part of high school sports is not everybody can make every team. For sure I could have been decent at football and the wrestling team was always looking for fat kids to fight fat kids from other schools. Who knows how much different my life could have been if I had a suffered a spinal cord injury during my teenage years? I might have more character.

4) Start a Food Fight: I may respect food too much to ever throw any at another person. I try not to waste food. When a waitress at a restaurant brings bread over, I make sure I eat every piece. A school food fight though could have been epic. To shout those famous words “Food Fight!” then be the first one to fire off a cardboard pizza at a classmate would have made my every tear I have shed in my life worth it.

5) Beat Up a Bully: I stood up to enough bullies and threatened one, but I never gave one a good pounding. There were few fights in my high school career between anyone at all. I think by that point kids settled their differences by saying insulting things on MySpace instead of with their fists. What happened to us?

6) Flirt With a Teacher: There are always films or moments on television shows where a cute new teacher shows up and romance becomes a possibility. I’m not saying all of my female teachers were extras on The Walking Dead. All I am saying is that none were worthy of a plot point where she has to eventually sit me down and tell me that our age difference is too much and she would lose her job. Why can’t life be more like television? I want a sexy chemistry teacher to ask me to stay after class to help balance equations.

7) Get Carried on People’s Shoulders: Whether it comes after winning the big game or because my performance in the Battle of the Bands was so tremendous that people wanted me on top of them, getting carried on people’s shoulders is something I really missed out on. In fact, I don’t remember seeing any kid in my school ever get rewarded with this. The administration frowned upon any form of public affection. Their plan worked out and now everyone I went to school with is a cold human being, fearful of being touched by others.

8) Discover Something Unique About Myself: The only thing unique I discovered about myself was that I could eat pizza for breakfast every day for a year and not put on weight. I would have rather discovered that I was Superman or could stop time. Most of my high school lessons involved making me more pessimistic. All of the studying, hours of doing homework, and working hard on essays only got me into a community college. Go figure. Money means everything.

9) Have a Fun Nickname: I had plenty of nicknames in high school. None of them would be appropriate to repeat in front of a vulgar sailor because they were so mean. Let’s move on before I start crying.

10) Win: It doesn’t matter what it is. High school for me was spent losing a lot. I was basically the school’s 1962 New York Mets. So much of high school is about winning, and I just didn’t do it. I never won the girl. I never won in sports. I never won when my final average was a 79 percent where the teacher should have totally rounded up and given me the B, but he didn’t because he was a spiteful man with a lazy eye. When high school finally ended for me, it was like a dying light bulb. There was a flicker then it was over. There was no walking off into the sunset knowing I had been accepted into my dream school or anything triumphant like that. High school ended and with it went my chances at being a high school legend. Well, I guess I did win. I got out.

fancy

(I also regret not going to this high school where random fat black guys can sit next to the popular girls while drinking their orange sodas and not be asked to move)

“Excuse me. I’m trying to get a cup of coffee. Could you spare 25 cents?”

Those words exact words were said to me twice by the same person in the span of a month. It’s an old guy I frequently pass on my way to work. In list form, let me tell you what’s wrong with what he is saying:

1) He did not fart – “Excuse me” should be reserved for farting or being in someone’s way. He was no in my way either. In fact, he was creepily leering out from the doorway of his home which I believe is a halfway house.

2) He was not trying to get a cup of coffee. If he was in front of Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks, then he’d be trying. Like I said, he’s leering like Jack the Ripper from around a corner. The effort he is giving is so minimal I couldn’t help but lie to him on both occasions and let him know I did not have any money on me.

3) Why does an old person need coffee? The last thing an old person should want to do is be wide awake.

4) 25 cents is such a specific amount. Tax included, most coffee is probably like $1.23 or something like that. I’m not sure. Whenever I need a morning rush I race a stranger’s car or flick a booger at a police officer after posing as a tourist looking for directions. Both get the heart pumping, something this guy does not need.

Now I am always having to avoid eye contact with this old man whenever I pass by him. I often pretend to send text messages to my friends, which if he knew me would know that was a complete lie as I have none.

So before you go asking for money from people, get to know them first. He could have at least pretended to be homeless or have a gun.

dracula-1931-peeking-around-corner(“I’m trying to get a coffee…”

Almost as useless to modern society as a sacrifice to a sun, the crossing guard still leaves its mark on society. Each day as I walk to work I run into these elite members of society. They may not be the most talented among us nor are they needed what with the “left, right, left” theory. My bias opinion of crossing guards begins with the fact my grandpa cheated on his wife with one, setting forth motion of continuous failed marriages in my bloodline. Know that we have established full disclosure as to why I may not have a high opinion of crossing guards, let me introduce you to the ones I see every morning.

Stubby

Stubby is an older woman shaped like a tree trunk. She is round, close to the ground, and probably has squirrels defecate on her. I have never called her Stubby at any time other than this because she is pretty much irrelevant and hard to insult since she actually does her job somewhat well. I also see her smoking a lot while she helps children cross the street which feels wrong.

Tree_stump1_30u06

The Hot Grandmother

I am not saying this woman actually is a grandmother. She may not even be a mother. I never have been close enough to her to even tell anything about her as she has marked her territory across the street from my walking route. She looks to be a bit older and in decent enough shape. My theory is that she got pregnant when she was very young and her daughter did the same thing which is why this woman has to work a shit job after retirement. I think I just like her because she has a ponytail coming out from her hat. Hats are very necessary for crossing guards, just so you know. If they ever do get hit by a car and are completely annihilated the family will have something to bury, the hat.

The Cranky Old Guy

My favorite crossing guard is probably the cranky old guy. Sometimes he yells at people for jaywalking and other times he encourages it. He’s hard to read. Maybe he yells because he cares and maybe he encourages it hoping that someone might get hit. Imagine being a crossing guard and never seeing someone get hit by a bus. That’s like a cop never getting to fire his gun. The cranky old guy also has a cranky old guy voice. He says “Come on!” like he has somewhere to be other than headed toward the grave. Since I actually wrote this a few months ago I have developed a good standing with him where we see “Morning” to each other.

statler

“Go Ahead”

The laziest crossing guard of all is the guy who I have never seen step into the street with his stop sign to actually do his job. Instead he kind of waves his stop sign and says “Go ahead” to us pedestrians. I’m not sure why he thinks this is in his job description. All he has to do is step out into the road. Does he not want the powertrip that gives you, to stop traffic dead in its tracks? He’s probably a nice guy and all, but I would at least like to see my tax dollars that I do not pay go to more use.

The Singing Black Guy

There’s a black guy near the school every morning who seems to sing slave songs. I know he has a lot of resentment toward me as my ancestors’ only struggle in history was not having enough potatoes. Don’t get me wrong, a potato famine sound terrible. What did the Irish eat with their hamburgers back then if there were no chips or fries? What did they do with all of that extra butter? The singing black guy is indeed nice and I am now “boss” to him. Maybe he is actually just trying out for a musical version of The Green Mile. He has yet to ask me to take his hand though.

michaelclarkeduncan

You’re On Your Own Woman

The final crossing guard I see is at the busiest intersection of all. This lady will help pedestrians cross when the walk sign first changes then stop for the rest of the time, when cars are actually more likely to speed through. She basically is letting us mobile-impaired folks know that we are on our own when it comes to getting to our destination without getting Marcellus Wallace’ed. She behaves like I’m some kind of homeless man and she’s me, paying no attention to my existence. Do your job woman. You get to hold an octagonal sign. You’ve won life’s scratch-off lottery.

My earliest memory is me standing in my crib hearing the television from the other room. The weird thing about this memory is I see it from someone else’s perspective which leads me to believe this never happened. I have a lot of early memories like this. I remember the time I broke my leg when I was 2 or 3-years-old. I broke my leg after jumping off the stairs trying to fly like Peter Pan. I think this happened to a lot of kids except with Superman. I always liked Batman more so I would imitate him by saying both of my parents were dead.

The way I remember breaking my leg, I fell down the stairs in a very Homer Simpson-like way bouncing off of every stair I hit making humorous noises each time. When I reached the bottom I did a flip and then two people were sitting in the room playing checkers and one turned to the other and said “King me!” This couldn’t possibly have happened either because my memory is from the house I grew up in and I broke it in another house I don’t remember at all.

Some of my first memories though are true. I remember the first time going to a friend’s house and him excusing himself to use the bathroom. Ten minutes later I heard him yell, “Mom! I’m done. Come wipe my butt!”

The first day I rode the school bus the driver pulled over and told us a short story. He said that the year before there was some kid who would always bring his pail to school. This is a pail like you would bring to the beach to fill up with sand then throw into someone’s eyes. His sob story ended with him saying he wanted to pass the pail to someone else. The way he told the story was so marvelous. He asked if anyone wanted the pail and of course everyone did because he made it seem so beautiful. He selected the closest kid to him, a kid named Bobby that always ate cupcakes.

shovel and pail(The shovel and pail falls somewhere between the kite and wooden horse on fun)

 

I experienced losing for the first time in my life. About three years later that same bus driver punched a high school student who gave him sass and his name being Lester made him Lester the Molester which if you think about it is very unfair. He punched her in the face. He should be Lester the Arrester or Lester the Nester as in he nests  his fist into the jaws of young girls in the mid-90s.

I also remember seeing a few movies in the theaters. When I saw Aladdin so many more people came into the theater later that they restarted the movie. There would be a riot if they did that today. So I had to watch that terrifying scene with the lion face in the sand eat the fat guy twice.

aladdin cave of wonders(Back when Disney was focused mostly on scaring kids to death)

What I’m trying to say here is it doesn’t matter what you do to your kid before a certain age. Lock them in a closet or buy them expensive cakes. They’re not going to remember much.