More mass shootings…. Sigh… Second Amendment or much tighter controls? Can we have both?
It’s written that most every person has stolen something in their lives. It can be as simple as a box of paper clips or ink pens from work, but technically it’s still theft if it’s for personal use. Last week I wrote about my wife’s tendency to steal small furry rodents and I’ve stolen more than just a dime, (as I wrote about in this story), but this story is about stealing from me. I’ve had things stolen from me as a kid. On every occasion, every single time it happened, it ended up being someone I knew and trusted (at the time). I have a few of these short stories to share and am writing each one as they occurred in my childhood. In case you’re new to the site, my first exposure of a friend stealing from me was an attempted theft of a couple of coins way back when I was only 5 or 6 years old. Here’s the link
There might have been other times, but the next one I remember happened in 8th grade at school; WJHS, Wilson Junior High School. I’ve written a few stories mentioning junior high and overall, I’d have to say that they were my most fun years at school, (except maybe for sixth grade). Continue reading
As I wrote about in (this story) we boys need to pay attention and learn when and when not to fight. It’s one of our more important lessons to learn. There are times when it becomes very important to stand your ground. By that, I don’t mean that you should go looking for fights or even that arguments should result in battles. Those of you who’ve hung in there with me for many stories know that I’m not a fighter. If I have to fight, I have to feel threatened or perhaps someone I care about is being threatened. And if I do fight, look out because I will not fight fair. Continue reading
Being the new kid in school is no fun. Oh I’m sure that maybe if you’re the new hot chick, maybe then it’s not a bad experience, but when my parents moved out of the Fillmore Elementary school district and into the Lincoln District in Hamilton, Ohio, the years of growing up on Prytania were about to begin.
I left Fillmore feeling popular and loved. I was the kid who got hit by a school bus and lived to tell about it (link), I had lots of friends, got great grades and teachers liked me well enough to let me clown around every now and again. Fifth grade at Lincoln, now that was a different story. Even today, I can only remember less than a handful of the names of the kids in my fifth grade class. I can’t recall the teacher’s name either. She was young and pretty and the only teacher whose name I cannot recall. I have no memories from my 5th grade class either; it’s almost a complete blur. Given all the stories I’ve recounted so far here, this may be hard to believe, but it’s true. I spent that year trying to adjust, trying to blend in and trying to figure out the new rules. Continue reading
My brother Mike, the youngest boy in the Wyatt part of our diversified clan, died recently. Tall like my Grandad, he stood about 6’4 or 5″ and weighed over 400 pounds at the end. He is the first to pass amongst me and my siblings. When you’re young or even old and healthy, dying seems improbable, something that happens to other people, not you. But eventually death grabs each of us by the throat and chokes the life out of us. When it chokes someone you grew up with or perhaps someone you love, it punches you in the stomach, wakes you up, makes you realize that your time is coming. It’s right around the corner.
This story is nothing close to a compendium of Mike’s life story. I am not qualified to write that. I was really not that close to Mike. Some of the memories I plan to write about include Mike, but will appear separately. Perspectives are our truths and this story is my perspective; my truth about what I recall about my baby brother Mike. Continue reading
To quote “Sir”
“Marriage is no way of life for the weak, the selfish, or the insecure.”
Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl who loved each other very much. After several years of dating, they were married. Over time, as will happen with married people, they grew much closer to one another. Now, growing close is a good thing. When done right it can even approach a feeling of sanctity; all is right with the world. On the flip side, growing closer to one another exposes weak spots, the fontanelles of the heart. Continue reading
No one knows your weaknesses, your strengths, your vulnerabilities like your spouse does. With that said, anyone who’s been married for a number of years knows then what a fair fight and an unfair fight is. An unfair fight is one of harsh words, words that cut beneath the skin. Words are more harmful than a smack in the face. A smack leaves a mark but it always goes away within a few days. Harmful words pierce the heart – they can take years to heal, if ever. Continue reading
In Bucking the Pecking Order (read me) I wrote about how there existed a natural kid pecking order in ‘The Alley’ – dictated by grade level or age. It was one of the great natural existing rules created by Alley Ancestors; a rule which aided the survival of the entire Alley Tribe because it eliminated internal Alley Prison Riots and ensured our numbers remained large and strong. Within the families though was a different story. Normally age level dictated a natural pecking order, but occasionally one larger, younger sibling challenged the ranks. I saw this happen amongst almost all of our families in The Alley – usually it was the larger families where tensions ran high due to our being imprisoned together in cramped quarters. Today, there are laws against such cruelty against children.
This week’s “Remember the Time” writing theme is about rivalries – a time when I was involved in a sibling or some other type of rivalries. So I got to thinking about this topic and decided that for the most part, girls have rivalries and boys take more assertive action. We like order and we like knowing what our place is in the pecking order (read me). Whether it be a display of superiority on the basketball court or football field or in war, we seem to have a natural tendency towards “settling the matter”. I’m not saying it’s the best policy – in fact the world would be a much safer place if we all just learned to be a little more introspective like my buddy Emily (read her) or more ‘live and let live’ like my buddy Kelly, (read her) but we boys are just wired differently than girls. In the following story I attempt to share a slice of my own experiences with rivalries and fighting while growing up. Continue reading