Poking the Dragon
An open letter to my nephew Chad Gervasio
Why
an open letter? Well, it's difficult to talk to someone who has
blocked you at every turn and available way. But considering the amount
of anger I see festering and the probable outcomes... it's just that
time again.
You were such a great kid when you were
little. Affectionate, friendly, curious and cute as a bug. I have
often wondered what happened to bring you to the point you've arrived
at. More to the point, I wonder just what your mother did to you to
bring this about. I don't know the exacts, but I can pretty much tell
you when it began. When you were 4 years old, and ending a visit to
Grandma Rainy, you started to run to Jo and I both for hugs before your
family left to head home. Your mother stopped you in your tracks. She
told you that you were too old to give hugs and kisses anymore. You
were a big boy and big boys shake hands.
I remember the
hurt and confusion in your eyes at that moment. But you were obedient,
and you did as you were told. I hugged you anyway and hoped that you
would understand what I was trying to tell you.
Fast
Forward to your teen years. By then the distance was noticeable to all
of us at the Roosevelt house. That cute affectionate kid was gone, and
we could only wonder where he had gone to. And why.
The
family aged, we grew further apart with each passing year. By the time
you hit adulthood, I truly had no idea who you were anymore. The Family
Feuds got initiated, and a lot of people got hurt, and some got
disowned. You stayed out of it for the most part. Up until the
infamous message to me to keep my distance from Lucy. I pretty much
knew who was truly behind these feelings on your part. We both know it
was Judy. Money does horrible things to people, especially when
jealousy and envy are added to the mix. You had stayed out of the mess
with Dan & Nita. And that was for the best. And then you insisted
on showing up on my radar. That was foolish on your part.
Add
the whole 'Revenge' song to the debacle, and some pretty hard feelings
got set in stone all around. Making death threats on the Internet?
Doubly foolish. But I think you came to realize that and removed all
traces of the song from said Internet. Perhaps some common sense had
finally kicked in, or perhaps someone finally got through to you the
possible legal ramifications involved and just what you had handed to
me.
I heard about the recent interaction with Danny. I
can't say that I was surprised. 'You're Fat'. Seriously? I'm
beginning to think your emotional maturity was stunted at 13. It would
explain a lot.
Yes, Chad. My family is fat. This isn't
news. But y'know the one thing my kids aren't. They aren't bitter,
like you. And me.
You see, Chad. You're only 16 years
younger than me. That's not a very large gap. And trust me, living
life as a bitter old man is a pretty lousy way to end up. I can only
imagine what demons you're trying to put to rest, probably some of the
same ones I'm dealing with as well.
I don't have any easy
solutions for you. I'm not sure there are any. But opening the lines of
communication would be a good start.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Time Flies
Wow. Almost a year already since Mom passed last June. Time flies even if you're not having fun apparently. Approaching the anniversary of her death has been bringing a lot of the mental garbage back that I had to deal with in the months preceding her death and following up through her funeral. Most notably... my cousin Sue.
Susan Wilbur. Eldest of my aunt Olene's children. More like a daughter to my mom than a niece. Viewed by my brother and sister and I as another sibling, more so than a cousin. In our family, we often grew closer in relation to one another than our official status. For so long, Sue was greatly loved and adored by our family.
I think that's why her betrayal toward the end surprised and hurt so many of us so badly. To be fair, we had been warned for years about Sue by her own sisters. The stories often surprised us, because they just didn't seem to jive with the Sue that we knew for so long. Turns out we were always being shown the face that Sue wanted us to see. Not necessarily the one that lurked underneath.
At the time that Sue dropped her bombshell about putting both Mom and Jojo into a group home (without having ever discussed it with either one of them ahead of time) part of me was still thinking she might be operating with the best of intentions for them. I was pissed, however, that she thought she could pull something like that off, counting on my full cooperation. I got the feeling that she never gave me any credit for being able to stand up to her and prevent this from coming to fruition. Surprise.
So Sue ended up being added to the other members of the family who pretty much got disowned for one reason or another. Mom was spitting nails up to the day she died about Sue's attempts to hijack their lives like that. One of Mom's dearest friends told us several stories about how angry Mom was at the end, and the things she had to say about Sue. As it turns out, Sue never did see Mom again after her plan was foiled. And I suspect that's for the best.
On the other hand, when Sue's time comes, she's gonna have some 'splainin' to do. I suspect there will be a whole congregation wanting to know what the hell was going through her mind.
Susan Wilbur. Eldest of my aunt Olene's children. More like a daughter to my mom than a niece. Viewed by my brother and sister and I as another sibling, more so than a cousin. In our family, we often grew closer in relation to one another than our official status. For so long, Sue was greatly loved and adored by our family.
I think that's why her betrayal toward the end surprised and hurt so many of us so badly. To be fair, we had been warned for years about Sue by her own sisters. The stories often surprised us, because they just didn't seem to jive with the Sue that we knew for so long. Turns out we were always being shown the face that Sue wanted us to see. Not necessarily the one that lurked underneath.
At the time that Sue dropped her bombshell about putting both Mom and Jojo into a group home (without having ever discussed it with either one of them ahead of time) part of me was still thinking she might be operating with the best of intentions for them. I was pissed, however, that she thought she could pull something like that off, counting on my full cooperation. I got the feeling that she never gave me any credit for being able to stand up to her and prevent this from coming to fruition. Surprise.
So Sue ended up being added to the other members of the family who pretty much got disowned for one reason or another. Mom was spitting nails up to the day she died about Sue's attempts to hijack their lives like that. One of Mom's dearest friends told us several stories about how angry Mom was at the end, and the things she had to say about Sue. As it turns out, Sue never did see Mom again after her plan was foiled. And I suspect that's for the best.
On the other hand, when Sue's time comes, she's gonna have some 'splainin' to do. I suspect there will be a whole congregation wanting to know what the hell was going through her mind.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
It's Do-Able
"Oh Honey, She passed away"
Phone calls at Five O'clock in the AM are rarely if ever good news. Such was the case on the morning of June 11, 2011 when the call came in from Palm Garden group home, where Mom had been living for the few past months. A quick glance at the caller ID pretty much told me what was happening. Mom had passed in her sleep. Exactly what she had told me several times on my last visit to Arizona, that she was hoping for. Mom knew that she was never going to walk again, nor would she ever return to the home in Tempe that she loved so much. So she was ready to go. And a lady always knows when it is time to leave.
So I packed my bags and headed for Arizona, to settle the estate and deal with my extended family.
One last time.
Those of you who have been following the Uncanny Adventures of Dysfunctional Gervasio's, or as I refer to them, The Consortium, know what's coming. During my last visit, a new member was inducted into The Consortium. My cousin Sue, who after being thwarted in her attempt to institutionalize both my Mom and sister, decided to cop an attitude with me because I'm sneaky and lack the balls to confront her... Yeah, I know what you're probably thinking right now. That was pretty much my reaction too.
Sneaky is as sneaky does, and in the case of dealing with Sue, Sneaky got the job done. Trying to talk to Sue when you're saying something she doesn't want to hear is like yelling into a hurricane. The woman will talk over you and attempt to shout you down. 30 years of Customer Service taught me long ago to let them get it out of their system, and wait patiently for your moment. My moment came, and I took it. Too Bad, So Sad Sue. You got shut down.
So it should come as no surprise that the first thing I did when I arrived in Tempe, AZ was place a call to my cousin Sue. She is still the executor of Mom's will after all. I gave some thought to having her removed a few months ago after the Group Home fiasco blew up in her face, but decided that I rather liked having her in the position of executor where I would be watching like a hawk. One little mis-step was all I was hoping for... but alas, after the phone call was made, Sue opted to step down. I was a perfect gentleman on the phone with her (I have witnesses) Sue, on the other hand, launched immediately into 'snarky'. Fortunately, I'm fluent. After a few snide comments on her part as to why she didn't want to be executor, followed by a hasty hanging up on her part, I was confident that things would go well after all. Sue later sent me an email announcing that she would step down as executor and named me as her replacement. Huzzah.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Nita
So plans were made and the time came for the memorial. First a visitation for those who had not made the time to see Mom while she was alive. Not a huge affair, but one filled with a few surprises, both pleasant and amusing.
My brother's eldest son Dan and his wife Nita showed up at the viewing of the body. I was pleased that they were able to overcome their hatred of me to actually come see Mom one last time. I especially was concerned about Dan, as I had been told that he had been taking Mom's death particularly hard. Not a word was said, but a few glances exchanged between Dan and I. Nita averted her eyes at all times. Once they emerged from the chapel after seeing Mom, they stood like deers caught in the headlights in the hall. My wife greeted them. As she did, Nita moved directly behind Dan and started crouching down behind him, as if to stay hidden from view. Dan, immediately defensive in both demeanor and speech, kept his responses short and clipped. "yep" "nope". Several people would mention later that they were astonished at the level of disrespect and rudeness on display from the two of them. My wife and I just chalked it up to standard behavior from that particular branch of the family. There are many reasons that we disowned them, and Dan & Nita were kind enough to show once more in public why such is the case.
The pleasant surprise of the evening came in the form of two of their daughters, Danielle and Becky. Both were warm and personable with everyone in attendance. It was wonderful to see them like this again. I loved Danielle like one of my own at one time, and would have built that same feeling for Becky if circumstances had been different. For now, I'm hopeful to see that maybe Nita's influence on them won't be as strong as it is on their older sister.
I Remember Momma
The memorial the next morning went very well. Lots of friends and family showed up to remember Mom one last time. My wife gave the service and spoke of Mom, her love for life and spoke of her many adventures. Notably missing from the family that showed were Sue, probably still licking her wounds and refusing to be anywhere I was in attendance... and my brother's wife Judy. I assume they both boycotted the memorial for the same reasons. I also think it's a good thing to have some people afraid of you. Judy did send her son Chad. He caught my gaze as I entered the chapel. I smiled slightly and nodded my head, as did he. That was the totality of our interaction for the day. And again, that was fine with me. No problems, no drama, and The Consortium on their best behavior. The only wrinkle I really noticed were the crying and fussing from Danielle's kids during the service. Not that I really minded it, kids will be kids. And on a guilty pleasure note, I was getting a kick out of watching/listening to Danielle's husband Jimbo trying desperately to quiet them down. On a side note; I was also pleased to see Jimbo attend. He had previously told Danielle that he would refuse to go to Mom's service; another of the crew who refuse to be in the same area as I am. Good to see that he could be a supportive husband for a change and be there for his wife when she needed him.
Death in the Family 2.0
Now to throw something out of left field to the mix. My Uncle Bob passes away a week after Mom. This is Sue's step dad, and having to deal with all the family drama is probably about to push Sue to the breaking point. (The drama on that side of the family sometimes makes The Consortium look like a Walton Family Picnic...) If I hadn't lost all respect for Sue over the group home mess, I might even feel a modicum of sympathy for her. But I don't. Most of the upheaval is as a result of Sue's own Machiavellian ways. Karma's a Bitch, but she's MY bitch.
I'm pretty sure that both Sue and Judy have assumed I've headed back to Tulsa by the point the funeral for Bob rolled around. Especially judging by the expressions on their faces when I show up to attend with my cousin Bobbie and her family. There are few thing as priceless as that jaw hitting moment when it arrives, but it was truly another gem of a moment for me. And as soon as the services ended, Judy and Chad beat feet outta there like their tails were on fire. I really should find some way to bottle whatever it is I have that has such an effect on people...
And so a major chapter on the Tales of the Consortium came to a close. I wish I could say that this would be the final chapter, but I think we all know better than that, considering everyone involved. For now, I'm happy to be back in the land of OZ, watching from a distance. Always watching. ;)
Phone calls at Five O'clock in the AM are rarely if ever good news. Such was the case on the morning of June 11, 2011 when the call came in from Palm Garden group home, where Mom had been living for the few past months. A quick glance at the caller ID pretty much told me what was happening. Mom had passed in her sleep. Exactly what she had told me several times on my last visit to Arizona, that she was hoping for. Mom knew that she was never going to walk again, nor would she ever return to the home in Tempe that she loved so much. So she was ready to go. And a lady always knows when it is time to leave.
So I packed my bags and headed for Arizona, to settle the estate and deal with my extended family.
One last time.
Those of you who have been following the Uncanny Adventures of Dysfunctional Gervasio's, or as I refer to them, The Consortium, know what's coming. During my last visit, a new member was inducted into The Consortium. My cousin Sue, who after being thwarted in her attempt to institutionalize both my Mom and sister, decided to cop an attitude with me because I'm sneaky and lack the balls to confront her... Yeah, I know what you're probably thinking right now. That was pretty much my reaction too.
Sneaky is as sneaky does, and in the case of dealing with Sue, Sneaky got the job done. Trying to talk to Sue when you're saying something she doesn't want to hear is like yelling into a hurricane. The woman will talk over you and attempt to shout you down. 30 years of Customer Service taught me long ago to let them get it out of their system, and wait patiently for your moment. My moment came, and I took it. Too Bad, So Sad Sue. You got shut down.
So it should come as no surprise that the first thing I did when I arrived in Tempe, AZ was place a call to my cousin Sue. She is still the executor of Mom's will after all. I gave some thought to having her removed a few months ago after the Group Home fiasco blew up in her face, but decided that I rather liked having her in the position of executor where I would be watching like a hawk. One little mis-step was all I was hoping for... but alas, after the phone call was made, Sue opted to step down. I was a perfect gentleman on the phone with her (I have witnesses) Sue, on the other hand, launched immediately into 'snarky'. Fortunately, I'm fluent. After a few snide comments on her part as to why she didn't want to be executor, followed by a hasty hanging up on her part, I was confident that things would go well after all. Sue later sent me an email announcing that she would step down as executor and named me as her replacement. Huzzah.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Nita
So plans were made and the time came for the memorial. First a visitation for those who had not made the time to see Mom while she was alive. Not a huge affair, but one filled with a few surprises, both pleasant and amusing.
My brother's eldest son Dan and his wife Nita showed up at the viewing of the body. I was pleased that they were able to overcome their hatred of me to actually come see Mom one last time. I especially was concerned about Dan, as I had been told that he had been taking Mom's death particularly hard. Not a word was said, but a few glances exchanged between Dan and I. Nita averted her eyes at all times. Once they emerged from the chapel after seeing Mom, they stood like deers caught in the headlights in the hall. My wife greeted them. As she did, Nita moved directly behind Dan and started crouching down behind him, as if to stay hidden from view. Dan, immediately defensive in both demeanor and speech, kept his responses short and clipped. "yep" "nope". Several people would mention later that they were astonished at the level of disrespect and rudeness on display from the two of them. My wife and I just chalked it up to standard behavior from that particular branch of the family. There are many reasons that we disowned them, and Dan & Nita were kind enough to show once more in public why such is the case.
The pleasant surprise of the evening came in the form of two of their daughters, Danielle and Becky. Both were warm and personable with everyone in attendance. It was wonderful to see them like this again. I loved Danielle like one of my own at one time, and would have built that same feeling for Becky if circumstances had been different. For now, I'm hopeful to see that maybe Nita's influence on them won't be as strong as it is on their older sister.
I Remember Momma
The memorial the next morning went very well. Lots of friends and family showed up to remember Mom one last time. My wife gave the service and spoke of Mom, her love for life and spoke of her many adventures. Notably missing from the family that showed were Sue, probably still licking her wounds and refusing to be anywhere I was in attendance... and my brother's wife Judy. I assume they both boycotted the memorial for the same reasons. I also think it's a good thing to have some people afraid of you. Judy did send her son Chad. He caught my gaze as I entered the chapel. I smiled slightly and nodded my head, as did he. That was the totality of our interaction for the day. And again, that was fine with me. No problems, no drama, and The Consortium on their best behavior. The only wrinkle I really noticed were the crying and fussing from Danielle's kids during the service. Not that I really minded it, kids will be kids. And on a guilty pleasure note, I was getting a kick out of watching/listening to Danielle's husband Jimbo trying desperately to quiet them down. On a side note; I was also pleased to see Jimbo attend. He had previously told Danielle that he would refuse to go to Mom's service; another of the crew who refuse to be in the same area as I am. Good to see that he could be a supportive husband for a change and be there for his wife when she needed him.
Death in the Family 2.0
Now to throw something out of left field to the mix. My Uncle Bob passes away a week after Mom. This is Sue's step dad, and having to deal with all the family drama is probably about to push Sue to the breaking point. (The drama on that side of the family sometimes makes The Consortium look like a Walton Family Picnic...) If I hadn't lost all respect for Sue over the group home mess, I might even feel a modicum of sympathy for her. But I don't. Most of the upheaval is as a result of Sue's own Machiavellian ways. Karma's a Bitch, but she's MY bitch.
I'm pretty sure that both Sue and Judy have assumed I've headed back to Tulsa by the point the funeral for Bob rolled around. Especially judging by the expressions on their faces when I show up to attend with my cousin Bobbie and her family. There are few thing as priceless as that jaw hitting moment when it arrives, but it was truly another gem of a moment for me. And as soon as the services ended, Judy and Chad beat feet outta there like their tails were on fire. I really should find some way to bottle whatever it is I have that has such an effect on people...
And so a major chapter on the Tales of the Consortium came to a close. I wish I could say that this would be the final chapter, but I think we all know better than that, considering everyone involved. For now, I'm happy to be back in the land of OZ, watching from a distance. Always watching. ;)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Revenge is a Dish...
And now it can be told. The story of my nephew Chad and his death
threats to me and mine.
Some time ago, as a result of the many shenanigans surrounding my
brothers death, my nephew discovered my blog site. Whether he was
directed there by Nita or found them on his own has never been decided.
Point is, he was none to happy with my musings about his father and
the many crimes of Michael.
As a result, in his many attempts to deal with his many emotions
concerning the events of most of 2010, he decided to write a song,
inspired by me and my blogs to vent his frustration. Chad fancies
himself a rap artist. Why the world would want to listen to a thirty
something white ginger with mediocre talent attempt to Rap is beyond me,
but there you have it.
God forbid he contact me directly and talk about it. Seriously, am I
that scary? Snarky, certainly... but scary?
Now I'm all for freedom of the arts, free expression and all that, but
even I have to draw the line somewhere. And threatening to kill me, in
several different manners, with full disclosure divulging my name and
so forth. Well, that was the line. And you still can't yell 'FIRE' in
a theater without repercussions...
I was tempted to post the lyrics from the entire song here in this blog
for you, but frankly, unless you're intimately involved with all this
family nonsense, you'd find it pretty boring indeed. It tends to
ramble, and some of the rhyming is painful to read when stretched so
thin.
If you're really dying to read it, shoot me an email and I'll send it
to you.
So once Chad posted the song 'Revenge', discussion broke out amongst
what I like to playfully refer to as "The Consortium". This ragtag
group is pretty much dominated by Michael's son Dan and his wife Nita,
their children and some of Dan and Nita's siblings. There are
satellite members like Judy and Sue, but I digress.
Much glee and anticipation of my reaction was expressed. I think they
were all waiting for me to explode or take them all to task in written
form in my blogs. Well, I have to admit that I was sorely tempted, but
I hate to be predictable. There's no fun in that whatsoever.
So I kept silent. Must have driven them crazy.
Eventually, I knew I was going to have to approach Chad. This was a
serious situation after all. I'm sure some of the family just wrote
off what he did as emotions running high and his inability to deal with
his father's recent death. Bottom line was that he posted death
threats on the Internet. Don't think that's a serious situation?
Google it.
Check out how things turned out for people that did the same thing.
So I wrote to Chad and flat out asked him what was going through his
mind to pull a stunt like this. To my surprise, he answered promptly.
Basically he admitted that he 'probably' wasn't going to kill me since
this would cause unnecessary drama in the family that was sorely not
needed.
You think?
Chad talked a lot about his feelings of inadequacy, fear of falling
short of his father's expectations. Daddy issues. I could relate. The
guy really could do with a few session of grief counseling. Some anger
management wouldn't be a bad idea either.
And so talks with Chad were opened. I was optimistic, maybe I could actually get the guy to stop listening to those idiots in The Consortium and start thinking for himself again. Chad ever assured me that he would be glad to talk to me in messages, as long as Mommy Dearest never found out. Judy's mad on for me apparently verges on manic. Even Sue warned me that Judy is the kind of person that won't stop until she destroys you if you cross her. At least now I knew where Chad gets it from.
Ironically enough, Chad's 'Revenge' is quite the hit with most of his
friends and The Consortium. Not enough to sell tickets to headline a show, mind
you. But enough for the crew to snigger amongst themselves for a while.
Sometimes dealing with these people is like still being in high school.
Flash forward a few months, and Chad becomes increasingly
incommunicado. So much for his assurances that he would talk to me
anytime. His postings on facebook start to become increasingly
concerning to some of the family as well. We're talking cuckoo for
cocoa puffs concerning.
Now I'm a fan of conspiracy theories now and then. They can be a fun
diversion. But Chad is starting to drink some serious Kool-Aid. I call
this to his attention, which is not too well received. Nobody likes it
when someone points out that the sewer stinks.
So how and why did Chad take down the 'Revenge' song, complete with its
death threats? With a whimper, not with a roar.
As with most things with me, it started with a short email to him. I
ventured a question his direction, wondering what his employer would
think of him posting death threats on the Internet. Considering that
he works for a giant in the Internet industry, my best guess was Not
Very Well.
And so I sent an inquiry off the the HR department of his
employer. Imagine my surprise when I got a personal reply from the
President of the company, complete with phone numbers to contact him
back personally. Never underestimate the power of a well placed email.
In turn, I sent another message to Chad asking what he thought I should
do next. I let him know it was time to remove 'Revenge', post a
statement as to why it was posted in the first place and why it was
being taken down. And to state publicly that he would never harm myself
nor any member of my immediate family in the future.
Next thing I noticed, was that "Revenge" had indeed vanished from the
Internet, off his facebook and myspace and Reverbnation pages. No
trace of it to be found, other than the many downloaded versions
sitting in the phones and computers of The Consortium. And my own
downloaded copies for future use. Just in case.
Step one complete. And I let him know this. I waited for the rest of
the statements to appear, but I knew the little weasel wasn't going to
go that far in his public withdrawal. Not in his nature. And I already
knew from my contacts that certain members of The Consortium were all
het up over what I had done so far. Interesting the twists they were
putting on what actually happened. Nita is never happier than when she's
spitting nails over something I've done and embellished it.
And so that's where we're at now. Chad made the death threats. Chad
removed the death threats, once he realized he was about to lose his
job and everything that was important to him.
Tell me once again how "Words are words I wish not to speak for my
actions will repeat night when I creep. You think you're slick but you
failed to see my father's son is smarter than thee."
I warned you his lyrics were painful.
threats to me and mine.
Some time ago, as a result of the many shenanigans surrounding my
brothers death, my nephew discovered my blog site. Whether he was
directed there by Nita or found them on his own has never been decided.
Point is, he was none to happy with my musings about his father and
the many crimes of Michael.
As a result, in his many attempts to deal with his many emotions
concerning the events of most of 2010, he decided to write a song,
inspired by me and my blogs to vent his frustration. Chad fancies
himself a rap artist. Why the world would want to listen to a thirty
something white ginger with mediocre talent attempt to Rap is beyond me,
but there you have it.
God forbid he contact me directly and talk about it. Seriously, am I
that scary? Snarky, certainly... but scary?
Now I'm all for freedom of the arts, free expression and all that, but
even I have to draw the line somewhere. And threatening to kill me, in
several different manners, with full disclosure divulging my name and
so forth. Well, that was the line. And you still can't yell 'FIRE' in
a theater without repercussions...
I was tempted to post the lyrics from the entire song here in this blog
for you, but frankly, unless you're intimately involved with all this
family nonsense, you'd find it pretty boring indeed. It tends to
ramble, and some of the rhyming is painful to read when stretched so
thin.
If you're really dying to read it, shoot me an email and I'll send it
to you.
So once Chad posted the song 'Revenge', discussion broke out amongst
what I like to playfully refer to as "The Consortium". This ragtag
group is pretty much dominated by Michael's son Dan and his wife Nita,
their children and some of Dan and Nita's siblings. There are
satellite members like Judy and Sue, but I digress.
Much glee and anticipation of my reaction was expressed. I think they
were all waiting for me to explode or take them all to task in written
form in my blogs. Well, I have to admit that I was sorely tempted, but
I hate to be predictable. There's no fun in that whatsoever.
So I kept silent. Must have driven them crazy.
Eventually, I knew I was going to have to approach Chad. This was a
serious situation after all. I'm sure some of the family just wrote
off what he did as emotions running high and his inability to deal with
his father's recent death. Bottom line was that he posted death
threats on the Internet. Don't think that's a serious situation?
Google it.
Check out how things turned out for people that did the same thing.
So I wrote to Chad and flat out asked him what was going through his
mind to pull a stunt like this. To my surprise, he answered promptly.
Basically he admitted that he 'probably' wasn't going to kill me since
this would cause unnecessary drama in the family that was sorely not
needed.
You think?
Chad talked a lot about his feelings of inadequacy, fear of falling
short of his father's expectations. Daddy issues. I could relate. The
guy really could do with a few session of grief counseling. Some anger
management wouldn't be a bad idea either.
And so talks with Chad were opened. I was optimistic, maybe I could actually get the guy to stop listening to those idiots in The Consortium and start thinking for himself again. Chad ever assured me that he would be glad to talk to me in messages, as long as Mommy Dearest never found out. Judy's mad on for me apparently verges on manic. Even Sue warned me that Judy is the kind of person that won't stop until she destroys you if you cross her. At least now I knew where Chad gets it from.
Ironically enough, Chad's 'Revenge' is quite the hit with most of his
friends and The Consortium. Not enough to sell tickets to headline a show, mind
you. But enough for the crew to snigger amongst themselves for a while.
Sometimes dealing with these people is like still being in high school.
Flash forward a few months, and Chad becomes increasingly
incommunicado. So much for his assurances that he would talk to me
anytime. His postings on facebook start to become increasingly
concerning to some of the family as well. We're talking cuckoo for
cocoa puffs concerning.
Now I'm a fan of conspiracy theories now and then. They can be a fun
diversion. But Chad is starting to drink some serious Kool-Aid. I call
this to his attention, which is not too well received. Nobody likes it
when someone points out that the sewer stinks.
So how and why did Chad take down the 'Revenge' song, complete with its
death threats? With a whimper, not with a roar.
As with most things with me, it started with a short email to him. I
ventured a question his direction, wondering what his employer would
think of him posting death threats on the Internet. Considering that
he works for a giant in the Internet industry, my best guess was Not
Very Well.
And so I sent an inquiry off the the HR department of his
employer. Imagine my surprise when I got a personal reply from the
President of the company, complete with phone numbers to contact him
back personally. Never underestimate the power of a well placed email.
In turn, I sent another message to Chad asking what he thought I should
do next. I let him know it was time to remove 'Revenge', post a
statement as to why it was posted in the first place and why it was
being taken down. And to state publicly that he would never harm myself
nor any member of my immediate family in the future.
Next thing I noticed, was that "Revenge" had indeed vanished from the
Internet, off his facebook and myspace and Reverbnation pages. No
trace of it to be found, other than the many downloaded versions
sitting in the phones and computers of The Consortium. And my own
downloaded copies for future use. Just in case.
Step one complete. And I let him know this. I waited for the rest of
the statements to appear, but I knew the little weasel wasn't going to
go that far in his public withdrawal. Not in his nature. And I already
knew from my contacts that certain members of The Consortium were all
het up over what I had done so far. Interesting the twists they were
putting on what actually happened. Nita is never happier than when she's
spitting nails over something I've done and embellished it.
And so that's where we're at now. Chad made the death threats. Chad
removed the death threats, once he realized he was about to lose his
job and everything that was important to him.
Tell me once again how "Words are words I wish not to speak for my
actions will repeat night when I creep. You think you're slick but you
failed to see my father's son is smarter than thee."
I warned you his lyrics were painful.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Judy and Me
Notes and blogs rarely just spring into existence for me. I usually wait for a spark of inspiration. Sometimes it's an event or sometimes it's something simple like a phone call. This is one of those times.
My Mom is not in good health right now. Bouncing back and forth between hospitals and 'care facilities'. (call them what you want, they're Rest Homes to me...) On a recent visit, Mom's hospital room phone rang. I answered since Mom was not in a state of mind to talk on said phone. It was Judy on the other end of the line.
Judy is my sister-in-law, and for those that know anything about me or our family, our relationship is best described as 'strained'. It was a very nice, pleasant phone call. I think it surprised both of us. :)
Here's the focus of this particular note. Judy and her place in my life. I think it will surprise a few of you, including some of my trolls. (Hello ladies)
Judy is a formidable woman. I flipped over her when Michael brought her home and introduced her to the family. I often told him that if I ever met a woman like her, I'd marry her. And I did. (sidenote: this comments usually grates on my wife's nerves to no end, for she and Judy pretty much despise one another and see no resemblance to each other whatsoever...) I see that both women are people of passion, that they love completely and fiercely, that they are loyal to their loved ones to a fault, that they are highly intelligent and emotional women. Not to be trifled with unless you're willing to deal with the consequences. They're both redheads for a reason.
In my own way, I hold Judy in pretty high regard. She was Michael's soul mate and best companion. I often wished that he had met and married her first. He was never so happy as when he was married to Judy. And I will always be grateful to her for bringing so much happiness to his life. I wish they could have had more time together.
Judy is a formidable foe as well. Frankly, she's one of the handful of people on the planet that I would count worthy of being on opposing sides of an issue and capable of providing me a decent challenge. I respect that too.
That said, let's look at where Judy and I are today. Lots of things happened when Michael died. I won't rehash them here, it's well documented elsewhere. Judy and I find ourselves in the position of working together right now for Mom's sake. I suspect we have entered into Mom's end run. There are a lot of things that are about to happen to bring even bigger changes to the family structure. Mom's death won't be the last for a while... There will be a lot more emotional upheaval for all of us to deal with.
Judy and I have a common interest here. Mom's welfare in this difficult time. Judy and I will never be friends, and I think we both acknowledge this fact, but we can work together in Mom's best interests. And we can be nice and pleasant to each other on the occasions when we are thrown together. After Mom's passing, we can fully go our separate ways, and that's just fine.
I don't hate Judy. I never did. I felt for her loss when Michael died. I hope that she is coping with the major changes in her life since his passing. I hope that those who love her are paying attention and giving her the love and support she needs during this time in her life.
And I still think she's a formidable woman.
My Mom is not in good health right now. Bouncing back and forth between hospitals and 'care facilities'. (call them what you want, they're Rest Homes to me...) On a recent visit, Mom's hospital room phone rang. I answered since Mom was not in a state of mind to talk on said phone. It was Judy on the other end of the line.
Judy is my sister-in-law, and for those that know anything about me or our family, our relationship is best described as 'strained'. It was a very nice, pleasant phone call. I think it surprised both of us. :)
Here's the focus of this particular note. Judy and her place in my life. I think it will surprise a few of you, including some of my trolls. (Hello ladies)
Judy is a formidable woman. I flipped over her when Michael brought her home and introduced her to the family. I often told him that if I ever met a woman like her, I'd marry her. And I did. (sidenote: this comments usually grates on my wife's nerves to no end, for she and Judy pretty much despise one another and see no resemblance to each other whatsoever...) I see that both women are people of passion, that they love completely and fiercely, that they are loyal to their loved ones to a fault, that they are highly intelligent and emotional women. Not to be trifled with unless you're willing to deal with the consequences. They're both redheads for a reason.
In my own way, I hold Judy in pretty high regard. She was Michael's soul mate and best companion. I often wished that he had met and married her first. He was never so happy as when he was married to Judy. And I will always be grateful to her for bringing so much happiness to his life. I wish they could have had more time together.
Judy is a formidable foe as well. Frankly, she's one of the handful of people on the planet that I would count worthy of being on opposing sides of an issue and capable of providing me a decent challenge. I respect that too.
That said, let's look at where Judy and I are today. Lots of things happened when Michael died. I won't rehash them here, it's well documented elsewhere. Judy and I find ourselves in the position of working together right now for Mom's sake. I suspect we have entered into Mom's end run. There are a lot of things that are about to happen to bring even bigger changes to the family structure. Mom's death won't be the last for a while... There will be a lot more emotional upheaval for all of us to deal with.
Judy and I have a common interest here. Mom's welfare in this difficult time. Judy and I will never be friends, and I think we both acknowledge this fact, but we can work together in Mom's best interests. And we can be nice and pleasant to each other on the occasions when we are thrown together. After Mom's passing, we can fully go our separate ways, and that's just fine.
I don't hate Judy. I never did. I felt for her loss when Michael died. I hope that she is coping with the major changes in her life since his passing. I hope that those who love her are paying attention and giving her the love and support she needs during this time in her life.
And I still think she's a formidable woman.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Dante's Infernal
My iambic pentameter challenged nephew accuses me of several things in his song "Revenge'. So for today's topic I'll answer Why I Blog.
No, it's not that I'm somehow braver sitting here in Tulsa Oklahoma and most of the people I talk about are enscounced in Arizona. Most of them refuse to talk to me through most conventional means: phone calls, letters, emails, you name it. Even my sister in law has her messages on facebook disabled to avoid contact with me. Who knew I was so scary? Or as one of my nieces recently opined, 'full of RAGE'. Geez, sometimes I wonder if anyone in my family even knows me, outside of my wife and kids. Simply put, I blog to put my thoughts down, to process the details of my life and because it's fun.
So on to the other topic of today's blog.
The Nature of Friendship.
I've been thinking a lot about the nature of friendship lately. Being so active on facebook has brought back a large number of people back into my life. Old friendships; some I didn't even realize I had. On the other hand, it has helped to show me how weak some of my friendships are and always have been.
My eldest son has learned a few lessons about his friendships recently, through the ocean cruise that we took him and some of his friends on for the celebration of his 21st birthday. He invited a few 'friends' who he wanted to take part in his celebration.
You'd think that anyone would be thrilled to take part in such a nice invitation. Or at the very least, grateful to be included in a family function like this.
If I had invited someone over to my house for a birthday party, and they immediately ran off to one of the bedrooms in my house and holed themselves away for the duration of said party, I'd be a little miffed. Wouldn't you?
This is basically what happened to Danny. His 'friends' spent most of their time on the cruise ship, cloistered in thier cabin, keeping to themselves and treating Danny like a red headed step child.
Several thoughts spring to mind in this situation...
If you really don't care for Danny and find him irritating, why did you accept to go on the cruise in the first place? I think the answer is pretty obvious. They came along thinking that they weren't going to pay him back for the cruise tickets like they had agreed to conditionally in advance, so what the hell? Yes, I warned Danny not to pay for their tickets in advance, because I figured after meeting them the first time, that they would take advantage of his good nature. And they did.
If you travel the world, learn to be a little respectful for cultures not your own. It was painfully obvious that they were uncomfortable being off U.S. soil, but acting like 'spoiled Americans' was downright embarassing. You know the stereotype... they embodied it.
And Brian (Dante), Honey, there was only room for ONE Drama Queen on the cruise, and this bitch wears the high heels. :)
In some regards, I'm glad that these users showed their true colors to Danny. He is better off without 'friends' like these.
Doesn't make it hurt any less for him, and that makes me sad and angry at the same time. Danny is one of the sweetest most gentle giants on the planet. People that don't appreciate him don't deserve to be a part of his life. And people who mistreat him like this run the chance of ruining the man he is. I can't abide that.
As part of the fall out of my brother's death, I ended up losing someone that I considered a friend for many years myself. In the course of discussion between he and I during the destruction of our friendship, a few things came to light. In the past, some friends and I have had a difference of opinion as to the definition of friendship. One friend called it 'mutual exploitation'. I thought that was a bit harsh, but I understood what he was trying to say.
In the case of the recently lost friendship, he mentioned how much he always respected me. That surprised me, as I had felt many aspects of our friendship over the years, but respect was never one of them. We talked every now and then, we shared common interests, but there were several episodes over the years that showed me that although we were friends, there was no respect on his part present. Friendship for me means that I like your company. I enjoy being around you and we have a good time together. I enjoy sharing thoughts and ideas with you.
Respectful Friendship does not include insulting my manhood because my wife is having a little girl instead of a boy, or degrading my wife because she's active in little theater instead of being a 'real actor' like your mom. You get the idea...
It appears to me that I can do without certain friends in my life as well. And frankly, since he cut me out of his life, I haven't noticed much of a difference.
No, it's not that I'm somehow braver sitting here in Tulsa Oklahoma and most of the people I talk about are enscounced in Arizona. Most of them refuse to talk to me through most conventional means: phone calls, letters, emails, you name it. Even my sister in law has her messages on facebook disabled to avoid contact with me. Who knew I was so scary? Or as one of my nieces recently opined, 'full of RAGE'. Geez, sometimes I wonder if anyone in my family even knows me, outside of my wife and kids. Simply put, I blog to put my thoughts down, to process the details of my life and because it's fun.
So on to the other topic of today's blog.
The Nature of Friendship.
I've been thinking a lot about the nature of friendship lately. Being so active on facebook has brought back a large number of people back into my life. Old friendships; some I didn't even realize I had. On the other hand, it has helped to show me how weak some of my friendships are and always have been.
My eldest son has learned a few lessons about his friendships recently, through the ocean cruise that we took him and some of his friends on for the celebration of his 21st birthday. He invited a few 'friends' who he wanted to take part in his celebration.
You'd think that anyone would be thrilled to take part in such a nice invitation. Or at the very least, grateful to be included in a family function like this.
If I had invited someone over to my house for a birthday party, and they immediately ran off to one of the bedrooms in my house and holed themselves away for the duration of said party, I'd be a little miffed. Wouldn't you?
This is basically what happened to Danny. His 'friends' spent most of their time on the cruise ship, cloistered in thier cabin, keeping to themselves and treating Danny like a red headed step child.
Several thoughts spring to mind in this situation...
If you really don't care for Danny and find him irritating, why did you accept to go on the cruise in the first place? I think the answer is pretty obvious. They came along thinking that they weren't going to pay him back for the cruise tickets like they had agreed to conditionally in advance, so what the hell? Yes, I warned Danny not to pay for their tickets in advance, because I figured after meeting them the first time, that they would take advantage of his good nature. And they did.
If you travel the world, learn to be a little respectful for cultures not your own. It was painfully obvious that they were uncomfortable being off U.S. soil, but acting like 'spoiled Americans' was downright embarassing. You know the stereotype... they embodied it.
And Brian (Dante), Honey, there was only room for ONE Drama Queen on the cruise, and this bitch wears the high heels. :)
In some regards, I'm glad that these users showed their true colors to Danny. He is better off without 'friends' like these.
Doesn't make it hurt any less for him, and that makes me sad and angry at the same time. Danny is one of the sweetest most gentle giants on the planet. People that don't appreciate him don't deserve to be a part of his life. And people who mistreat him like this run the chance of ruining the man he is. I can't abide that.
As part of the fall out of my brother's death, I ended up losing someone that I considered a friend for many years myself. In the course of discussion between he and I during the destruction of our friendship, a few things came to light. In the past, some friends and I have had a difference of opinion as to the definition of friendship. One friend called it 'mutual exploitation'. I thought that was a bit harsh, but I understood what he was trying to say.
In the case of the recently lost friendship, he mentioned how much he always respected me. That surprised me, as I had felt many aspects of our friendship over the years, but respect was never one of them. We talked every now and then, we shared common interests, but there were several episodes over the years that showed me that although we were friends, there was no respect on his part present. Friendship for me means that I like your company. I enjoy being around you and we have a good time together. I enjoy sharing thoughts and ideas with you.
Respectful Friendship does not include insulting my manhood because my wife is having a little girl instead of a boy, or degrading my wife because she's active in little theater instead of being a 'real actor' like your mom. You get the idea...
It appears to me that I can do without certain friends in my life as well. And frankly, since he cut me out of his life, I haven't noticed much of a difference.
Friday, December 31, 2010
2010 Dead and Buried
A few observations about the passing of 2010:
Crusing on an Oceanliner for a week is still one of the coolest things on the planet to do.
Toy Trains sets for your birthday and Christmas never gets old.
Bacon crumbled and mixed into your chocolate chip cookie dough is not as strange as it sounds and is rather tasty.
A death in the family is the quickest way to figure out who your friends are and always were.
Amaretto can still cure all ills.
facebook is still a total waste of time, but keeps me amused and out of trouble (for the most part)
Being the inspiration for a rap song is sorta cool in a creepy way, even if it includes several death threats to your person and loved ones... and what the hey, I've still got seven years to press charges. :)
Crusing on an Oceanliner for a week is still one of the coolest things on the planet to do.
Toy Trains sets for your birthday and Christmas never gets old.
Bacon crumbled and mixed into your chocolate chip cookie dough is not as strange as it sounds and is rather tasty.
A death in the family is the quickest way to figure out who your friends are and always were.
Amaretto can still cure all ills.
facebook is still a total waste of time, but keeps me amused and out of trouble (for the most part)
Being the inspiration for a rap song is sorta cool in a creepy way, even if it includes several death threats to your person and loved ones... and what the hey, I've still got seven years to press charges. :)
Monday, December 27, 2010
Grudge
I'm pretty well known for holding a grudge. Ask anyone. But 2010 opened my eyes to a few things: it's been a rough year. Recently it was brought to my attention that a couple of family members are haboring some mighty strong grudges against me. That's really unfortunate. And the worst part is, they're only hurting themselves.
Holding on to my grudge against my brother cost me any chance at all of developing a friendship with him. And if I had been successful in bonding in some way with him, we might have been able to communicate. Found a solution that might have restored us as a family. Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda. I do that a lot.
So I will say it again. Talk to one another. Talk to me. I don't bite unless unnecessarily provoked.
And although I don't advise it, you can even lead off with an all out verbal assault. Get it out of your system. One of my nephews wrote a song about his feelings towards me. Probably the best I've heard him produce. It opened some doors between he and I, and most importantly, it opened some lines of communication. It's a start.
Holding on to my grudge against my brother cost me any chance at all of developing a friendship with him. And if I had been successful in bonding in some way with him, we might have been able to communicate. Found a solution that might have restored us as a family. Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda. I do that a lot.
So I will say it again. Talk to one another. Talk to me. I don't bite unless unnecessarily provoked.
And although I don't advise it, you can even lead off with an all out verbal assault. Get it out of your system. One of my nephews wrote a song about his feelings towards me. Probably the best I've heard him produce. It opened some doors between he and I, and most importantly, it opened some lines of communication. It's a start.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Good
My brother died the other day.
Good. That's the first word that popped into my mind when the call came. Good.
Good on many levels. Good that he was released from a very painful and lingering death. Good that the ones who still loved him can experience a sense of relief for him being out of the pain. And for some of us, Good that he is finally removed from this plane of existence.
I've talked about the many sins of Michael in the past, I won't go into it here again. You can preview past blogs about him if you want. I lost a brother, or at least the potential of a brother the other day. We have been estranged for quite some time now. Friends have been sending condolences, expressing words of comfort for my loss. Truthfully, I lost Michael a very long time ago. I don't mourn for the man who was never a brother to me, but for what might have been. I never had a really cool big brother, and he missed out on the most awesome little brother ever.
And so it goes... one of the days I knew was coming is finally here. I can't say I have mixed emotions about it, I pretty much knew how I would feel when the day came. I hurt for my mother's loss, as no parent should ever have to bury a child. I hurt for my sister on a lot of levels. Unfortunately, that's about it. Most of his kids killed my affection for them years ago. The two I do have feelings for, Nikki and Brian, are more like my own kids to me than his. Not surprising, as I sometimes feel like I helped finish raising them after he deserted them when they were very young.
We all deal with death in our own way. One of my friends went meltdown recently in regards to the aftermath of Michael's death and how some of the family is dealing with it. I suspect he is still dealing with the recent death of his own mother last year in addition to how his wife, one of Michael's daughters, is taking her father's death. My daughter mentioned raising a glass in toast to Michael's passing, she is glad he's gone. I'm right there with her. The friend got highly offended. Get over it. We all are entitled to our reactions to his passing. The man was a monster during part of his lifetime. You can't really be surprised. And I have no intention of rewriting history now that he is dead, and won't abide any of the rest of the family doing the same.
So here's to you, Michael. 66 years on this earth and now gone.
Good.
Good. That's the first word that popped into my mind when the call came. Good.
Good on many levels. Good that he was released from a very painful and lingering death. Good that the ones who still loved him can experience a sense of relief for him being out of the pain. And for some of us, Good that he is finally removed from this plane of existence.
I've talked about the many sins of Michael in the past, I won't go into it here again. You can preview past blogs about him if you want. I lost a brother, or at least the potential of a brother the other day. We have been estranged for quite some time now. Friends have been sending condolences, expressing words of comfort for my loss. Truthfully, I lost Michael a very long time ago. I don't mourn for the man who was never a brother to me, but for what might have been. I never had a really cool big brother, and he missed out on the most awesome little brother ever.
And so it goes... one of the days I knew was coming is finally here. I can't say I have mixed emotions about it, I pretty much knew how I would feel when the day came. I hurt for my mother's loss, as no parent should ever have to bury a child. I hurt for my sister on a lot of levels. Unfortunately, that's about it. Most of his kids killed my affection for them years ago. The two I do have feelings for, Nikki and Brian, are more like my own kids to me than his. Not surprising, as I sometimes feel like I helped finish raising them after he deserted them when they were very young.
We all deal with death in our own way. One of my friends went meltdown recently in regards to the aftermath of Michael's death and how some of the family is dealing with it. I suspect he is still dealing with the recent death of his own mother last year in addition to how his wife, one of Michael's daughters, is taking her father's death. My daughter mentioned raising a glass in toast to Michael's passing, she is glad he's gone. I'm right there with her. The friend got highly offended. Get over it. We all are entitled to our reactions to his passing. The man was a monster during part of his lifetime. You can't really be surprised. And I have no intention of rewriting history now that he is dead, and won't abide any of the rest of the family doing the same.
So here's to you, Michael. 66 years on this earth and now gone.
Good.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Lullaby
It's time to put something to bed. I've been talking about my brother and his misdeeds for quite some time. I've made my points, discussed the ins and outs of what happened. Tried in vain to convince him that he needed to clean up after himself. I've always known that he would refuse. He's a weak man in all the ways that are important, sadly. It will have an effect of him for the rest of his days. That said, I have come to the realization during my brief stay here in Arizona recently, that Michael may not have been the main problem all these years. I think the problem may come from his current wife, Judy. She's quite upset with me at the moment, following a letter that I sent to her, both at home and to her place of business. Beside a rather terse email sent to me, she sent a letter with a decidely different tone to my Mom. Unfortunately, she's operating on the assumption that Mom is unaware of Mike and Jo's history and what happened. She also, once again, underestimates me and how I operate.
Judy, if you're going to lie about something I've done... i.e. saying I did not put your name on the envelope that I mailed to your place of business, you might want to consider that I made a photocopy of said letter's front before I mailed it. Just in case.
Now mind you, I do appreciate when people hand me things on a silver platter; and Judy jumping in with both feet to prove to Mom that she will lie to her in an attempt to discredit me is beauty. I love when that happens. Makes my job soooooo much easier.
That said, I agree with several friends and family members that I've been talking to over the past week or so that it is time for this issue to be 'put to bed'. Michael will never say I'm sorry. Jojo is at peace with what he did and accepts that he will never take responsibility for himself. The extended family members that were at one time saying that Jo lied have recanted. In essence, my work here is done.
On to the next 'project'... and yes, Judy. You're in my thoughts. :)
Judy, if you're going to lie about something I've done... i.e. saying I did not put your name on the envelope that I mailed to your place of business, you might want to consider that I made a photocopy of said letter's front before I mailed it. Just in case.
Now mind you, I do appreciate when people hand me things on a silver platter; and Judy jumping in with both feet to prove to Mom that she will lie to her in an attempt to discredit me is beauty. I love when that happens. Makes my job soooooo much easier.
That said, I agree with several friends and family members that I've been talking to over the past week or so that it is time for this issue to be 'put to bed'. Michael will never say I'm sorry. Jojo is at peace with what he did and accepts that he will never take responsibility for himself. The extended family members that were at one time saying that Jo lied have recanted. In essence, my work here is done.
On to the next 'project'... and yes, Judy. You're in my thoughts. :)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Whoa Nellie!
Whoa Nellie!
Current mood: annoyed
Whoa, Nellie!
"And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids!"
An open letter to my brother Michael.
You almost did get away with it, Michael. Almost.
For years now, our family's dirtiest little secret stayed under wraps. Mostly through the efforts of our sister, JoJo. What she did out of love, out of fear and out of concern for your welfare was huge. Sadly, I don't think you ever truly understood why she did it, nor recognized the full scope of what she gave up for you. Her life would have been radically different if not for you. Simply put, Dad would have killed you for what you did to his only daughter. She might as well have saved herself the effort. You've been dead to me for 30 years now anyway.
There is no excuse for rape, Michael. And no mixing of phrases or excuses is going to change the fact that you sexually abused our sister numerous times over a span of several years. She was ten years old when it started…that made you 16 years old. There any number of words that come to mind that could come into play here…pedophile, monster and my personal favorite: Schmuck. As JoJo outlined in her first chapter of "My Story to Tell", you basically pimped her out to one of your friends. You sacrificed our sister's virginity to make a friend happy, instead of standing up for someone you should have been protecting from such an atrocity. Then you started "dipping into the well" shortly after that yourself. Was it convenience? Was it really just a way to strike back at our father in one of the few ways you knew it would hurt him most? Was it a suicide move? He would have ended your life, and that would have torn what remained of this family apart. Your excuse that "all brothers and sisters experiment with sex" is flawed. The percentage of children experimenting is still relatively small and there is usually an element of mutual consent with such experimentation. Do you think Chris and Jena will chalk up it up to youthful indiscretion when James starts bangin' Lorelei to get back at them? (Come to think of it, Jena just might, considering how staunchly she defends your sexual misconduct...)
There is a big difference in what you and your friend did to JoJo. There was no consent on her part. It wasn't sex, it was a powerplay. That's what made it rape. That doesn't justify it or make it right. The cycle of abuse continues in a fashion through your particular blood line. Dan & Nita's kids have abused one another horribly over the years under the pretense that it was always okay because they "love" one another. That crew has always had a fucked up idea of love and respect, but I digress...Although their mutual abuse was not necessarily of a sexual nature, emotional abuse is just as debilitating.
I know that you didn't have it easy with Dad. You pointed this out to me a number of times. Dad was stricter, Dad was unreasonable, and Dad was mean to you. I was the baby of the family, I was spoiled…yada, yada, yada…what Dad was with me was busy. He was always working at the Post Office. When he had down time, he bowled and played golf. He never saw a single performance during the years that I sang and was on stage. JoJo filled in for Dad & Mom when they couldn't/wouldn't be there for me. I understood that Dad needed his personal time because of the long hours that he worked. It still hurt me that my father would not sacrifice some of his own pleasure time to see me perform. I'll never know if Dad was proud of me. However, I knew that Dad loved me. You know as well as I that Dad didn't say it out loud. He was not demonstrative in that way. (And a good part of the reason that I tell my kids almost daily how proud of them I am and that I love them) I learned some important things to do with my family because of my experiences with Dad. All you seem to have learned was how to hurt the ones you love. And yes, I realize that charge can be leveled at me these days as well…the important phrase involved is "the ones you love". I have no love for the DaNita consortium anymore. None of them. What I have these days for them is indifference or perhaps morbid curiosity. That's about it.
This family is in shambles. I take a huge portion of the credit for that at this time because of my activities and commentary dealing with Nita and her girls. I'm at an age where I no longer feel the need to "play nice" in order to maintain some false sense of unity amongst family members. The resentment has been bubbling away for three decades now, and I saw the potential for another three decades of more of the same with your son Dan and his family. I will not allow it.
There was talk a few years ago as to who the Patriarch of the Gervasio Clan was. Several of your kids made the claim that you were, by virtue of your age and position as the eldest son. I challenged the notion, pointing out that Patriarch is much more than a title, and bears much responsibility to the family. Who gets the call when a problem arises? Who visits when it isn't a holiday or when presents are not in the offering? Who did Lucy look to? Who gets the job done? It was never you, Michael. You were always Prince Charles; but it's Prince William that will take the throne.
The solution to the current state of affairs in this family is really pretty simple, Michael.
Accept responsibility for your actions against JoJo. Pick up the phone and call her and tell her that you admit that what you did to her all those years ago was heinous. Admit that there are no excuses in the world which would justify what you allowed your friend to do to her and what you yourself did. Admit your role in devastating her life. You told Mom once that it wasn't your fault that she got fat.
Yes, Michael. It is your fault. And so much more…
Give the woman an apology. She's already forgiven you. And don't let the fact that she has already forgiven you get in the way of what you know you should have done all those years ago. I haven't forgiven you. I really don't care that it is not my place to grant forgiveness. It's high time you were held accountable for your actions. I was for mine. You will survive disclosure.
(Side note: The Supreme Court system is well aware of your activities in the past and then some…All kinds of questions get asked when you are in processing. They wanted to know why you were never charged. I told them what JoJo did to save the family. I told them Dad would have killed you. Thank your lucky stars that Arizona has a statute of limitations for what you did. Otherwise, JoJo could still press charges and I would have encouraged her to do so.)
Update 08/30/10...turns out that Arizona DOES NOT have a statute of limitations for sexual abuse and battery of a minor. Jo could indeed file charges against Michael for the rape and abuses. I don't think she will, however. Michael's health these days is precarious at best. As my daughter put it recently, he has the potential of attacking anyone as your standard potted plant. I thought that was pretty accurate. Still doesn't get him off the hook, however. He's still a child molester and rapist. And worst of all, he acknowledges what he did and refuses to atone or apologize. Some people...
Let's be honest about your health. You're living on borrowed time. That brain tumor should have taken you, but the fates decreed you stick around a bit longer. I personally think you have unfinished business. And I'm pretty sure that unfinished business is JoJo. She's at peace with what you did. I don't think you are. Not in your heart of hearts. I think you still have a conscience buried somewhere deep down. I think you need to make your own peace with JoJo.
Do I expect you to ever offer JoJo an admission of guilt and perhaps a sincere apology? Not bloody likely. Why should you experience such a drastic paradigm shift in regards to your history with JoJo after all these years? I imagine that has been one of the main reasons that you and the majority of your progeny have refused to acknowledge what you did...it was so long ago, why should it matter?
Because it matters to me. JoJo reconciled herself to the fact that you will never take responsibility for your actions. I'm not willing to let you off the hook quite that easily. What you did was wrong. Admit it to her, and then maybe you might be able to finally forgive yourself. I'm no saint, Michael. But one of the main things that separate us is that I did take responsibility for my actions. I will pay the price for the rest of my life for what I did. I can live with that.
I've always wondered...how do you live with what you did? How do you face yourself every day knowing that you destroyed the innocence of a child. That you let down someone who believed in you, that loved you, that trusted you. Ever think that's the secret to your longevity? That you won't be allowed to silently slip away until you clean up after yourself? One can only hope...
Current mood: annoyed
Whoa, Nellie!
"And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids!"
An open letter to my brother Michael.
You almost did get away with it, Michael. Almost.
For years now, our family's dirtiest little secret stayed under wraps. Mostly through the efforts of our sister, JoJo. What she did out of love, out of fear and out of concern for your welfare was huge. Sadly, I don't think you ever truly understood why she did it, nor recognized the full scope of what she gave up for you. Her life would have been radically different if not for you. Simply put, Dad would have killed you for what you did to his only daughter. She might as well have saved herself the effort. You've been dead to me for 30 years now anyway.
There is no excuse for rape, Michael. And no mixing of phrases or excuses is going to change the fact that you sexually abused our sister numerous times over a span of several years. She was ten years old when it started…that made you 16 years old. There any number of words that come to mind that could come into play here…pedophile, monster and my personal favorite: Schmuck. As JoJo outlined in her first chapter of "My Story to Tell", you basically pimped her out to one of your friends. You sacrificed our sister's virginity to make a friend happy, instead of standing up for someone you should have been protecting from such an atrocity. Then you started "dipping into the well" shortly after that yourself. Was it convenience? Was it really just a way to strike back at our father in one of the few ways you knew it would hurt him most? Was it a suicide move? He would have ended your life, and that would have torn what remained of this family apart. Your excuse that "all brothers and sisters experiment with sex" is flawed. The percentage of children experimenting is still relatively small and there is usually an element of mutual consent with such experimentation. Do you think Chris and Jena will chalk up it up to youthful indiscretion when James starts bangin' Lorelei to get back at them? (Come to think of it, Jena just might, considering how staunchly she defends your sexual misconduct...)
There is a big difference in what you and your friend did to JoJo. There was no consent on her part. It wasn't sex, it was a powerplay. That's what made it rape. That doesn't justify it or make it right. The cycle of abuse continues in a fashion through your particular blood line. Dan & Nita's kids have abused one another horribly over the years under the pretense that it was always okay because they "love" one another. That crew has always had a fucked up idea of love and respect, but I digress...Although their mutual abuse was not necessarily of a sexual nature, emotional abuse is just as debilitating.
I know that you didn't have it easy with Dad. You pointed this out to me a number of times. Dad was stricter, Dad was unreasonable, and Dad was mean to you. I was the baby of the family, I was spoiled…yada, yada, yada…what Dad was with me was busy. He was always working at the Post Office. When he had down time, he bowled and played golf. He never saw a single performance during the years that I sang and was on stage. JoJo filled in for Dad & Mom when they couldn't/wouldn't be there for me. I understood that Dad needed his personal time because of the long hours that he worked. It still hurt me that my father would not sacrifice some of his own pleasure time to see me perform. I'll never know if Dad was proud of me. However, I knew that Dad loved me. You know as well as I that Dad didn't say it out loud. He was not demonstrative in that way. (And a good part of the reason that I tell my kids almost daily how proud of them I am and that I love them) I learned some important things to do with my family because of my experiences with Dad. All you seem to have learned was how to hurt the ones you love. And yes, I realize that charge can be leveled at me these days as well…the important phrase involved is "the ones you love". I have no love for the DaNita consortium anymore. None of them. What I have these days for them is indifference or perhaps morbid curiosity. That's about it.
This family is in shambles. I take a huge portion of the credit for that at this time because of my activities and commentary dealing with Nita and her girls. I'm at an age where I no longer feel the need to "play nice" in order to maintain some false sense of unity amongst family members. The resentment has been bubbling away for three decades now, and I saw the potential for another three decades of more of the same with your son Dan and his family. I will not allow it.
There was talk a few years ago as to who the Patriarch of the Gervasio Clan was. Several of your kids made the claim that you were, by virtue of your age and position as the eldest son. I challenged the notion, pointing out that Patriarch is much more than a title, and bears much responsibility to the family. Who gets the call when a problem arises? Who visits when it isn't a holiday or when presents are not in the offering? Who did Lucy look to? Who gets the job done? It was never you, Michael. You were always Prince Charles; but it's Prince William that will take the throne.
The solution to the current state of affairs in this family is really pretty simple, Michael.
Accept responsibility for your actions against JoJo. Pick up the phone and call her and tell her that you admit that what you did to her all those years ago was heinous. Admit that there are no excuses in the world which would justify what you allowed your friend to do to her and what you yourself did. Admit your role in devastating her life. You told Mom once that it wasn't your fault that she got fat.
Yes, Michael. It is your fault. And so much more…
Give the woman an apology. She's already forgiven you. And don't let the fact that she has already forgiven you get in the way of what you know you should have done all those years ago. I haven't forgiven you. I really don't care that it is not my place to grant forgiveness. It's high time you were held accountable for your actions. I was for mine. You will survive disclosure.
(Side note: The Supreme Court system is well aware of your activities in the past and then some…All kinds of questions get asked when you are in processing. They wanted to know why you were never charged. I told them what JoJo did to save the family. I told them Dad would have killed you. Thank your lucky stars that Arizona has a statute of limitations for what you did. Otherwise, JoJo could still press charges and I would have encouraged her to do so.)
Update 08/30/10...turns out that Arizona DOES NOT have a statute of limitations for sexual abuse and battery of a minor. Jo could indeed file charges against Michael for the rape and abuses. I don't think she will, however. Michael's health these days is precarious at best. As my daughter put it recently, he has the potential of attacking anyone as your standard potted plant. I thought that was pretty accurate. Still doesn't get him off the hook, however. He's still a child molester and rapist. And worst of all, he acknowledges what he did and refuses to atone or apologize. Some people...
Let's be honest about your health. You're living on borrowed time. That brain tumor should have taken you, but the fates decreed you stick around a bit longer. I personally think you have unfinished business. And I'm pretty sure that unfinished business is JoJo. She's at peace with what you did. I don't think you are. Not in your heart of hearts. I think you still have a conscience buried somewhere deep down. I think you need to make your own peace with JoJo.
Do I expect you to ever offer JoJo an admission of guilt and perhaps a sincere apology? Not bloody likely. Why should you experience such a drastic paradigm shift in regards to your history with JoJo after all these years? I imagine that has been one of the main reasons that you and the majority of your progeny have refused to acknowledge what you did...it was so long ago, why should it matter?
Because it matters to me. JoJo reconciled herself to the fact that you will never take responsibility for your actions. I'm not willing to let you off the hook quite that easily. What you did was wrong. Admit it to her, and then maybe you might be able to finally forgive yourself. I'm no saint, Michael. But one of the main things that separate us is that I did take responsibility for my actions. I will pay the price for the rest of my life for what I did. I can live with that.
I've always wondered...how do you live with what you did? How do you face yourself every day knowing that you destroyed the innocence of a child. That you let down someone who believed in you, that loved you, that trusted you. Ever think that's the secret to your longevity? That you won't be allowed to silently slip away until you clean up after yourself? One can only hope...
GROW UP and be a really man.
Current mood: contemplative
Grow Up.
You'd be surprised how many times I have heard that phrase. Or maybe not, especially if you have spent any time around me at all in my 51 years. I'm not quite a candidate for the Peter Pan Club of little boys who refuse to "grow up". My wife likes to refer to me as "child-like" instead of "childish". I suspect the fact that I have collected comic books and toy trains since I was 4 years old has something to do with it. But mostly, these days, my behavior can be attributed to something else entirely.
I had a wonderful childhood. My parents were loving and caring. And although Dad was not one to say it out loud, it was always apparent that he loved me. My Big sister was also my bestest friend in the whole world. My brother...was absent most of the time. I grew up with him being a stranger for the most part. So my childhood came to a rather abrupt end when I turned 16 and I was told that my father was going to die of cancer. Hell of a birthday present. I did a lot of "growing up" in the next year as I watched my Dad deteriorate and die in the span of one year. Mom apologized to me shortly after Dad's death for losing the end of my childhood so soon and having to "grow up" so fast. Now granted, 17 isn't exactly a kid anymore, but I had figured that I would have all my teens and most of my twenties to be reckless and more concerned with having a good time than hunting down a job and becoming "responsible". Even though my brother was now part of the picture again, Dad's death kind of brought him back into the fold, I was told that I was now "the man of the family". It was cool. I loved my mom and sister and tried to rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure exactly what "the man of the family" was supposed to do, but I was willing to give it the old college try!
When I was 18 I lost my virginity. (yeah, I know, TMI...bear with me) Of course I ran to tell my favorite confidant at the time, my big sister. She was concerned or course. Insert all the lectures about unprotected sex and their consequences here... but she also seemed really down about something. During our conversations I asked when her first time was. I had no idea what was about to be said. Let's just say that I not only had to "grow up" a bit more that day, but I pretty much have not had much use for my big brother since.
When I was 19, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my lifetime. I joined the U S Postal Service instead of the Santa Fe Railroad. I had both jobs offered to me at the same time, and I zigged when I should have zagged. My upbringing suggested that the Post Office was a job for a lifetime, financially secure. One that I could eventually marry and support a family with. (I always knew that I wanted to be a Dad!) The railroad meant lots of travel away from home, even relocating away from my family. So I did the "grown-up" thing and worked for the Post Office. Goodbye dreams of being a railroad engineer, goodbye dreams of being a comicbook artist. In my mind, those were the wishes of a child and it was time to "grow up".
So the years passed. I married well. We had three terrific kids. We bought a house in a declining neighborhood. We became involved with some of the most dysfunctional families in Mesa AZ you can imagine. We went through two burglaries. Our house was burned down. (arson) My health started to decline. Things started to sour at the PO. And through it all, I was a "grown-up". I coped the best I could, I made a lot of lemonade. I reasoned and explained away a lot of stuff. And in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson.
Grown Ups get to grab their ankles and take it up the backside.
No one is there with a gold medal or a pat on the head to tell you what a good doobie you were. You have to hope those all those Sunday school promises of getting your reward in Heaven pan out. Frankly, I'm a skeptic.
So I did the "grow up" thing for a large part of my adulthood. I learned to become a "really man" as one my charming and slightly grammatically challenged nieces pointed out. When I hit 50 I fell back on one of my favorite sayings...
It's NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.
I always wanted to be one of those cranky, yet somehow charmingly eccentric old people when I become a senior. As my wife pointed out, I'm a cranky, somehow charmingly eccentric fifty-something now, so it shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. Point is people, I did the grown up thing. I know how to be a grown up. And I know when it is to your advantage to backslide and indulge yourself time and again. If it is ever within my power, I will never be taken advantage of or abused by family, friends, or neighbors ever again. Not without a reckoning. And I'm not talking revenge here...that would be rather petty...even for ME! Besides, living well is the best revenge. And bless their hearts, my wife and kids, in the face of all the adversity we have faced, have indeed, lived very well. We have each other. And we always will. That's the best of all worlds.
Current mood: contemplative
Grow Up.
You'd be surprised how many times I have heard that phrase. Or maybe not, especially if you have spent any time around me at all in my 51 years. I'm not quite a candidate for the Peter Pan Club of little boys who refuse to "grow up". My wife likes to refer to me as "child-like" instead of "childish". I suspect the fact that I have collected comic books and toy trains since I was 4 years old has something to do with it. But mostly, these days, my behavior can be attributed to something else entirely.
I had a wonderful childhood. My parents were loving and caring. And although Dad was not one to say it out loud, it was always apparent that he loved me. My Big sister was also my bestest friend in the whole world. My brother...was absent most of the time. I grew up with him being a stranger for the most part. So my childhood came to a rather abrupt end when I turned 16 and I was told that my father was going to die of cancer. Hell of a birthday present. I did a lot of "growing up" in the next year as I watched my Dad deteriorate and die in the span of one year. Mom apologized to me shortly after Dad's death for losing the end of my childhood so soon and having to "grow up" so fast. Now granted, 17 isn't exactly a kid anymore, but I had figured that I would have all my teens and most of my twenties to be reckless and more concerned with having a good time than hunting down a job and becoming "responsible". Even though my brother was now part of the picture again, Dad's death kind of brought him back into the fold, I was told that I was now "the man of the family". It was cool. I loved my mom and sister and tried to rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure exactly what "the man of the family" was supposed to do, but I was willing to give it the old college try!
When I was 18 I lost my virginity. (yeah, I know, TMI...bear with me) Of course I ran to tell my favorite confidant at the time, my big sister. She was concerned or course. Insert all the lectures about unprotected sex and their consequences here... but she also seemed really down about something. During our conversations I asked when her first time was. I had no idea what was about to be said. Let's just say that I not only had to "grow up" a bit more that day, but I pretty much have not had much use for my big brother since.
When I was 19, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my lifetime. I joined the U S Postal Service instead of the Santa Fe Railroad. I had both jobs offered to me at the same time, and I zigged when I should have zagged. My upbringing suggested that the Post Office was a job for a lifetime, financially secure. One that I could eventually marry and support a family with. (I always knew that I wanted to be a Dad!) The railroad meant lots of travel away from home, even relocating away from my family. So I did the "grown-up" thing and worked for the Post Office. Goodbye dreams of being a railroad engineer, goodbye dreams of being a comicbook artist. In my mind, those were the wishes of a child and it was time to "grow up".
So the years passed. I married well. We had three terrific kids. We bought a house in a declining neighborhood. We became involved with some of the most dysfunctional families in Mesa AZ you can imagine. We went through two burglaries. Our house was burned down. (arson) My health started to decline. Things started to sour at the PO. And through it all, I was a "grown-up". I coped the best I could, I made a lot of lemonade. I reasoned and explained away a lot of stuff. And in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson.
Grown Ups get to grab their ankles and take it up the backside.
No one is there with a gold medal or a pat on the head to tell you what a good doobie you were. You have to hope those all those Sunday school promises of getting your reward in Heaven pan out. Frankly, I'm a skeptic.
So I did the "grow up" thing for a large part of my adulthood. I learned to become a "really man" as one my charming and slightly grammatically challenged nieces pointed out. When I hit 50 I fell back on one of my favorite sayings...
It's NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.
I always wanted to be one of those cranky, yet somehow charmingly eccentric old people when I become a senior. As my wife pointed out, I'm a cranky, somehow charmingly eccentric fifty-something now, so it shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. Point is people, I did the grown up thing. I know how to be a grown up. And I know when it is to your advantage to backslide and indulge yourself time and again. If it is ever within my power, I will never be taken advantage of or abused by family, friends, or neighbors ever again. Not without a reckoning. And I'm not talking revenge here...that would be rather petty...even for ME! Besides, living well is the best revenge. And bless their hearts, my wife and kids, in the face of all the adversity we have faced, have indeed, lived very well. We have each other. And we always will. That's the best of all worlds.
I don't know Karate, but I do know Ca-razy, and I will use it.
Current mood: crazy
Psychotic. Crazy Ass. Fruit Loops. Fat Boy. One sandwich short a picnic. Not all of his dogs are barking. Fatso. Overly Obese. Chunko. Pick one.
I've been a fat kid most of my life. So being called names is nothing new to me. Over the years I have learned to embrace several of them. Self deprecating humor has always been in my arsenal. And as my sister opined in a correspondense long ago, I am gifted with an acid tongue. She warned that I am probably not one to get involved with in a war with words.
How true.
People that know me well are very well aware of this. Those of you who do not know me so well... let's just say you've been a great source of amusement to me. Yes, Virginia, I can be a "heartless bastard of a felon". I've rarely professed to be anything else where some people are concerned. On the other hand, I can be a real pussycat or teddybear. An old friend of mine during my post office days put it this way...
"Tony is the best friend you could ever have. But if you ever cross him, he will flay you alive."
In my youth, I was scarred by insensitive words and insults. I learned early on that you can do more lasting damage with a well turned phrase than a closed fist. Bruises heal. My kind of damage can go deep into someone's psyche. You might forgive some of the things I've said to you...but you'll never forget them. Even if you profess that I didn't scrape a nerve. We both know better.
And so I've been labeled as the Psychotic Father, the Malicious Crazy Uncle...He's fucking nuts! Y'know, I don't have a problem with that.
Life changes over the past 10 years have helped to forge me into the man that I am today. Literally forged in fire, you might say. (Another reference to life on Argon St...coming soon to a blog near you)
Here's the bottom line folks. I never was a fan of taking the high road. There are no rewards waiting for me in Heaven. And for all those years that I did take the high road, people were more than happy to take advantage.
Ca-razy? Crazy like a fox.
Current mood: crazy
Psychotic. Crazy Ass. Fruit Loops. Fat Boy. One sandwich short a picnic. Not all of his dogs are barking. Fatso. Overly Obese. Chunko. Pick one.
I've been a fat kid most of my life. So being called names is nothing new to me. Over the years I have learned to embrace several of them. Self deprecating humor has always been in my arsenal. And as my sister opined in a correspondense long ago, I am gifted with an acid tongue. She warned that I am probably not one to get involved with in a war with words.
How true.
People that know me well are very well aware of this. Those of you who do not know me so well... let's just say you've been a great source of amusement to me. Yes, Virginia, I can be a "heartless bastard of a felon". I've rarely professed to be anything else where some people are concerned. On the other hand, I can be a real pussycat or teddybear. An old friend of mine during my post office days put it this way...
"Tony is the best friend you could ever have. But if you ever cross him, he will flay you alive."
In my youth, I was scarred by insensitive words and insults. I learned early on that you can do more lasting damage with a well turned phrase than a closed fist. Bruises heal. My kind of damage can go deep into someone's psyche. You might forgive some of the things I've said to you...but you'll never forget them. Even if you profess that I didn't scrape a nerve. We both know better.
And so I've been labeled as the Psychotic Father, the Malicious Crazy Uncle...He's fucking nuts! Y'know, I don't have a problem with that.
Life changes over the past 10 years have helped to forge me into the man that I am today. Literally forged in fire, you might say. (Another reference to life on Argon St...coming soon to a blog near you)
Here's the bottom line folks. I never was a fan of taking the high road. There are no rewards waiting for me in Heaven. And for all those years that I did take the high road, people were more than happy to take advantage.
Ca-razy? Crazy like a fox.
Dirty Laundry
Current mood: amused
Some people have wondered why Lori puts everything going on in her life in her blogs.
The Artist creates. The writer writes. It is how a creative person deals with most if not all aspects of life. And when adversity hits, it helps to express those feelings in the written word. It tells you who your friends really are, and who you can count on.
Besides, No One in the Gervasio clan can stay silent for long. For the most part, we just don't know when to shut up! :)
Current mood: amused
Some people have wondered why Lori puts everything going on in her life in her blogs.
The Artist creates. The writer writes. It is how a creative person deals with most if not all aspects of life. And when adversity hits, it helps to express those feelings in the written word. It tells you who your friends really are, and who you can count on.
Besides, No One in the Gervasio clan can stay silent for long. For the most part, we just don't know when to shut up! :)
Are you Unhappy with your Life?
Are you Unhappy with your Life?
Current mood: contemplative
I keep getting reminded by individuals who used to be counted as family members that I am unhappy in my life. (personally I think it's just their way of processing things I've said that they can't unhear that strike too close to home, but I digress...) So I got to thinking about an old adage Grandpa Daniels used to say...
So in this little exercise in cathartic self therapy I'm going to explore whether or not I'm happy in my life or not.
It's been a real roller coaster of a ride for the past 10 years of my life. Exciting, challenging, a little bit scary and heart breaking all at once. I won't lie to you, there have been many times I would like to have been in someone else skin other than my own.
I got to play with Depression a lot. Have for the past decade. I've been on meds for it, and although they helped...there were days...
I stopped believing in a god, mostly because of the depth of depression I was reaching on a regular basis. I stopped praying, because I prayed for six months straight when I went to sleep every night, not to wake up. And every morning, I awoke.
They say that god never gives you more than you can handle. In my case, he severely miscalculated... If god was listening, he was saying 'no'.
Suicide has been considered on several occasions. I've done my research, I've found ways that are painless. ( I hate pain ) But the bottom line is that I cannot, will not leave my wife and kids in such a lurch. I lost my father when I was 17 years old. I had to grow up without a father's guidance. I won't do that to my kids. Suicide negates the insurance payoff. (or so I thought at the time... turns out this wasn't the case and my wife just kept the info from me to help keep me around longer) Besides, several family members would be livid with me. Several others would throw a party you wouldn't believe to celebrate that I was finally gone. ( I suggested "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" be played although I hear through the family grapevine that it's being reserved for Nita when she finally kicks the bucket.)
So am I unhappy with my life? I certainly could be, and probably should be.
But I have the love of a good woman, and three children that I am very proud of. The four of them make my world a terrific place to be. I have extended family that I adore: Jojo, Jim & Gerri, Nikki, Bobbie & Sam, Gary and Sue, Corky & Susan... the list goes on. And two basset hounds that think I walk on water. Although I suspect it's because I feed them. I once heard that "A dog's love in unconditional".
Yeah, as long as you keep putting the Alpo in their dog dish. :)
I blogged not too long ago about what "I wish". I covered a lot of regrets in my life, things I wish I had done differently. Things I wished I had not done at all. For those of you in the know... they had it coming.
I have also been told on many an occasion that I like to wallow. That I like to brood. Sounds so much classier than mope. While I do enjoy the occasional pity party, like the commercial says...depression hurts. Physically. And I do not like to hurt physically. So while it is true that I tend to fret too much for my own good, being enveloped into that black cloud is not fun. And it is very hard to "snap out of it". So while I appreciate comments to cheer up. It's easier said than done. That's why I finally sought medical help for the depression. It was stronger than I was, and I had to finally admit it.
So again, am I happy with my life?
I find that I still find joy in a summer thunderstorm. I look forward to new comicbooks every Wednesday. Every Christmas I get excited about setting up toy trains under the tree. I love scatching behind the ears of my basset hounds and hearing the contented sigh they make.
But am I happy with my life?
I wake up in the morning and look forward to getting out of bed and making my wife breakfast and packing her lunch for work. Knowing that she is heading off to a job that she adores, doing what she has wanted to do for over 30 years. Finally.
My daughter is grown and touring the USA with her boyfriend and his band. Traveling the country and seeing the sights. Living her dream instead of waiting for it to happen. Soon she will marry the man she loves, and she knows true passion in her life.
I look forward to another day with my boys, helping them with their schooling and making sure they get off to work in time. It's not the careers they are waiting for yet...it's customer service. But I know that they will achieve their dreams with a little help and support from their mother and me.
I awake knowing that I get to care for my family, and no longer have to drag myself to a job that I hate, working for a company that I do not respect and wasting 9 hours out of my day that I would rather spend at home with my kids.
And still I wonder if I am happy with my life.
Judging from the silly grin I usually have on my face, I would have to say that I am.
Hee Haw.
Current mood: contemplative
I keep getting reminded by individuals who used to be counted as family members that I am unhappy in my life. (personally I think it's just their way of processing things I've said that they can't unhear that strike too close to home, but I digress...) So I got to thinking about an old adage Grandpa Daniels used to say...
If one person says you're a jackass, that's simply their opinion.
If two people say you're a jackass, that's merely a coincidence.
If three people say you're a jackass, it's time to get yourself fitted for a saddle.
So in this little exercise in cathartic self therapy I'm going to explore whether or not I'm happy in my life or not.
It's been a real roller coaster of a ride for the past 10 years of my life. Exciting, challenging, a little bit scary and heart breaking all at once. I won't lie to you, there have been many times I would like to have been in someone else skin other than my own.
I got to play with Depression a lot. Have for the past decade. I've been on meds for it, and although they helped...there were days...
I stopped believing in a god, mostly because of the depth of depression I was reaching on a regular basis. I stopped praying, because I prayed for six months straight when I went to sleep every night, not to wake up. And every morning, I awoke.
They say that god never gives you more than you can handle. In my case, he severely miscalculated... If god was listening, he was saying 'no'.
Suicide has been considered on several occasions. I've done my research, I've found ways that are painless. ( I hate pain ) But the bottom line is that I cannot, will not leave my wife and kids in such a lurch. I lost my father when I was 17 years old. I had to grow up without a father's guidance. I won't do that to my kids. Suicide negates the insurance payoff. (or so I thought at the time... turns out this wasn't the case and my wife just kept the info from me to help keep me around longer) Besides, several family members would be livid with me. Several others would throw a party you wouldn't believe to celebrate that I was finally gone. ( I suggested "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" be played although I hear through the family grapevine that it's being reserved for Nita when she finally kicks the bucket.)
So am I unhappy with my life? I certainly could be, and probably should be.
But I have the love of a good woman, and three children that I am very proud of. The four of them make my world a terrific place to be. I have extended family that I adore: Jojo, Jim & Gerri, Nikki, Bobbie & Sam, Gary and Sue, Corky & Susan... the list goes on. And two basset hounds that think I walk on water. Although I suspect it's because I feed them. I once heard that "A dog's love in unconditional".
Yeah, as long as you keep putting the Alpo in their dog dish. :)
I blogged not too long ago about what "I wish". I covered a lot of regrets in my life, things I wish I had done differently. Things I wished I had not done at all. For those of you in the know... they had it coming.
I have also been told on many an occasion that I like to wallow. That I like to brood. Sounds so much classier than mope. While I do enjoy the occasional pity party, like the commercial says...depression hurts. Physically. And I do not like to hurt physically. So while it is true that I tend to fret too much for my own good, being enveloped into that black cloud is not fun. And it is very hard to "snap out of it". So while I appreciate comments to cheer up. It's easier said than done. That's why I finally sought medical help for the depression. It was stronger than I was, and I had to finally admit it.
So again, am I happy with my life?
I find that I still find joy in a summer thunderstorm. I look forward to new comicbooks every Wednesday. Every Christmas I get excited about setting up toy trains under the tree. I love scatching behind the ears of my basset hounds and hearing the contented sigh they make.
But am I happy with my life?
I wake up in the morning and look forward to getting out of bed and making my wife breakfast and packing her lunch for work. Knowing that she is heading off to a job that she adores, doing what she has wanted to do for over 30 years. Finally.
My daughter is grown and touring the USA with her boyfriend and his band. Traveling the country and seeing the sights. Living her dream instead of waiting for it to happen. Soon she will marry the man she loves, and she knows true passion in her life.
I look forward to another day with my boys, helping them with their schooling and making sure they get off to work in time. It's not the careers they are waiting for yet...it's customer service. But I know that they will achieve their dreams with a little help and support from their mother and me.
I awake knowing that I get to care for my family, and no longer have to drag myself to a job that I hate, working for a company that I do not respect and wasting 9 hours out of my day that I would rather spend at home with my kids.
And still I wonder if I am happy with my life.
Judging from the silly grin I usually have on my face, I would have to say that I am.
Hee Haw.
Dirty Little Secrets
Dirty Little Secrets
Current mood: contemplative
Catchy title got your attention, didn't it?
Ben Franklin once observed that "Three can keep a secret if two are dead". So true.
I worked for the government for almost 25 years. I know how to keep a secret...but on the other hand, my wife and I talk about EVERYTHING. So it seems that everyone has at least one confidant, someone that they feel they can entrust their most innermost thoughts on just about everything.
So the point of this missive? Possibly that the secrets that you guard so carefully, that you work so hard to keep hidden, just may not be as secure as you think.
I often marvel at the amount of information I know about people, things that they think I don't know about them, that were divulged "in secret". "You can't tell them that I told you this...you can't let them know that you know anything..." Honestly, I do not think any less of these people just because I know something I shouldn't. I love my family and friends because of who they are. I sometimes wonder why people feel the need to share secrets they have promised to keep to themselves. Perhaps they just like feeling a little bit naughty. Or maybe we never got past the silly school girl phase of our lives that would have been better left back in Middle School.
I once told a friend who claimed they never gossiped, that it's like picking your nose. Everyone does it, they just don't like to admit to it.
Our family has secrets. Lots of 'em. That doesn't set us apart from other families, however, as I firmly believe that all families hide information that they think will embarrass "The Good Family Name". The unplanned pregnancies, Illicet sexual activity, the abortions, the incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse, Emotional abuse, the drug abuse, the social indescretions and run-ins with the law, the misdemeanors and even the felonies.
The point again? Nobody is perfect, folks. We're all human, we just tend to forget that from time to time. Or at least we tend to forget that extend that courtesy to those around us. So maybe we need to quit beating each other up so much. And the dirty little secrets? They're just history, folks. You can deny them, admit to them, ignore them, take your pick. In the long run, IMHO, I don't think they really make all that much difference in our lives. They take on whatever importance we give them, whatever power over us that we allow. We can choose what hurts us, or not.
Current mood: contemplative
Catchy title got your attention, didn't it?
Ben Franklin once observed that "Three can keep a secret if two are dead". So true.
I worked for the government for almost 25 years. I know how to keep a secret...but on the other hand, my wife and I talk about EVERYTHING. So it seems that everyone has at least one confidant, someone that they feel they can entrust their most innermost thoughts on just about everything.
So the point of this missive? Possibly that the secrets that you guard so carefully, that you work so hard to keep hidden, just may not be as secure as you think.
I often marvel at the amount of information I know about people, things that they think I don't know about them, that were divulged "in secret". "You can't tell them that I told you this...you can't let them know that you know anything..." Honestly, I do not think any less of these people just because I know something I shouldn't. I love my family and friends because of who they are. I sometimes wonder why people feel the need to share secrets they have promised to keep to themselves. Perhaps they just like feeling a little bit naughty. Or maybe we never got past the silly school girl phase of our lives that would have been better left back in Middle School.
I once told a friend who claimed they never gossiped, that it's like picking your nose. Everyone does it, they just don't like to admit to it.
Our family has secrets. Lots of 'em. That doesn't set us apart from other families, however, as I firmly believe that all families hide information that they think will embarrass "The Good Family Name". The unplanned pregnancies, Illicet sexual activity, the abortions, the incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse, Emotional abuse, the drug abuse, the social indescretions and run-ins with the law, the misdemeanors and even the felonies.
The point again? Nobody is perfect, folks. We're all human, we just tend to forget that from time to time. Or at least we tend to forget that extend that courtesy to those around us. So maybe we need to quit beating each other up so much. And the dirty little secrets? They're just history, folks. You can deny them, admit to them, ignore them, take your pick. In the long run, IMHO, I don't think they really make all that much difference in our lives. They take on whatever importance we give them, whatever power over us that we allow. We can choose what hurts us, or not.
It's All Relative!
It's All Relative!
Current mood: chipper
Relatives.
Love 'em or Leave 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't find enough bottomless wells to drop the remains...
Our delightful niece Nita posted in her blog a while ago, wondering out loud why family isn't always as supportive as one's friends usually are. It's a good question, and one well worth exploring.
Family. Those people that you often have thrust upon you, whether you like them or not. People who often do not pass what I like to call "The Backyard BBQ test". In other words, would I invite these people over for dinner if I wasn't related to them? Fortunately, most pass my test. I enjoy the majority of my relatives, as we are a diverse and opinionated bunch. We are very rarely boring. We are mostly creative and talented, writers, artists and musicians, comedians and sages. Psychics. And we're a bunch of "kooks" as was pointed out recently by some outsiders. Can't argue with the assessment...it's true!
The Gervasio clan in particular are a rather close knit bunch. There is darn little that we wouldn't do for one another. (or in some cases...TO one another...) And we can be very protective of our own as well. You pick on one, you risk raising the ire of the rest. We fight amongst ourselves at times. Sometimes with the greatest of gusto. We're Italian after all...it goes with the territory. So it comes as no surprise that immediate families within the Gervasio clan pull together to support one another. That is as it should be. Husbands and wives defend their spouses, Parents defend their children, Children defend their parents. Doesn't mean that all parties are in the right, just that right or wrong, they tend to support their own. It's all a matter of perspective.
"Perception is Reality"
Good buddy of mine used to say that all the time at the Post Office. I think it applies to everyone. Everybody likes to think they are in the right, their cause is just, God is on their side. (that last one always makes me giggle...) Like going to church every Sunday automatically makes God approve of what you're doing and saying to your "loved ones". Emotional abuse is a no-no, plain and simple. You know who you are.
So why do family members feel free to hurt one another with an almost wild abandon? Does familiarity breed contempt? I think it does. Family members tend to take one another for granted. Forgiveness will be offered because, well,....we're family. Probably one of the biggest misconceptions alive out there. We may be related through blood or marriage, but eventually everyone reaches a breaking point. The kids grow old enough so the relations stop putting up with their psycho mother, buried family histories and secrets re-emerge and make their existance known, the lies we tell each other come to bite us on our respective backsides...take your pick. The simple truth is this. We do not have to put up with the relative pains in the asses in our lives simply because they are relatives. It is quite alright to decide that we can live our lives just fine without their annoying input. We can disown a family member if their behavior is totally out of control and over the top. And in some cases, if they refuse to accept responsibility for their past actions. Sometimes, just because you just plain don't like them. Life is too short to put up with some people. Their nonsense is not to be tolerated because someone made a bad choice in who they married. (or knocked up...I swear, in this day and age of umpteen numbers of birth control available....) on a related topic....Honey, I don't care how many times he begs you, because "it feels so much better"... make him wear the damn condom...remind him that 18 years of child support payments isn't worth the 20 or so seconds of "it feels so much better". Again, you know who you are. Aloha.
Friends.
Those people we choose to hang around with because we enjoy their company. And they in turn enjoy ours. They stay because they choose to. They support because they believe in you. And when you disappoint them, they will withdraw. If only 'family' had such freedom.
We love our friends and family. Where would we be without them?
Probably a whole lot saner.
Current mood: chipper
Relatives.
Love 'em or Leave 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't find enough bottomless wells to drop the remains...
Our delightful niece Nita posted in her blog a while ago, wondering out loud why family isn't always as supportive as one's friends usually are. It's a good question, and one well worth exploring.
Family. Those people that you often have thrust upon you, whether you like them or not. People who often do not pass what I like to call "The Backyard BBQ test". In other words, would I invite these people over for dinner if I wasn't related to them? Fortunately, most pass my test. I enjoy the majority of my relatives, as we are a diverse and opinionated bunch. We are very rarely boring. We are mostly creative and talented, writers, artists and musicians, comedians and sages. Psychics. And we're a bunch of "kooks" as was pointed out recently by some outsiders. Can't argue with the assessment...it's true!
The Gervasio clan in particular are a rather close knit bunch. There is darn little that we wouldn't do for one another. (or in some cases...TO one another...) And we can be very protective of our own as well. You pick on one, you risk raising the ire of the rest. We fight amongst ourselves at times. Sometimes with the greatest of gusto. We're Italian after all...it goes with the territory. So it comes as no surprise that immediate families within the Gervasio clan pull together to support one another. That is as it should be. Husbands and wives defend their spouses, Parents defend their children, Children defend their parents. Doesn't mean that all parties are in the right, just that right or wrong, they tend to support their own. It's all a matter of perspective.
"Perception is Reality"
Good buddy of mine used to say that all the time at the Post Office. I think it applies to everyone. Everybody likes to think they are in the right, their cause is just, God is on their side. (that last one always makes me giggle...) Like going to church every Sunday automatically makes God approve of what you're doing and saying to your "loved ones". Emotional abuse is a no-no, plain and simple. You know who you are.
So why do family members feel free to hurt one another with an almost wild abandon? Does familiarity breed contempt? I think it does. Family members tend to take one another for granted. Forgiveness will be offered because, well,....we're family. Probably one of the biggest misconceptions alive out there. We may be related through blood or marriage, but eventually everyone reaches a breaking point. The kids grow old enough so the relations stop putting up with their psycho mother, buried family histories and secrets re-emerge and make their existance known, the lies we tell each other come to bite us on our respective backsides...take your pick. The simple truth is this. We do not have to put up with the relative pains in the asses in our lives simply because they are relatives. It is quite alright to decide that we can live our lives just fine without their annoying input. We can disown a family member if their behavior is totally out of control and over the top. And in some cases, if they refuse to accept responsibility for their past actions. Sometimes, just because you just plain don't like them. Life is too short to put up with some people. Their nonsense is not to be tolerated because someone made a bad choice in who they married. (or knocked up...I swear, in this day and age of umpteen numbers of birth control available....) on a related topic....Honey, I don't care how many times he begs you, because "it feels so much better"... make him wear the damn condom...remind him that 18 years of child support payments isn't worth the 20 or so seconds of "it feels so much better". Again, you know who you are. Aloha.
Friends.
Those people we choose to hang around with because we enjoy their company. And they in turn enjoy ours. They stay because they choose to. They support because they believe in you. And when you disappoint them, they will withdraw. If only 'family' had such freedom.
We love our friends and family. Where would we be without them?
Probably a whole lot saner.
Star light, star bright...
Current mood: melancholy
I Wish...
...That freight trains still had a caboose at the end. It's like apple pie without the ice cream!
...That I had followed my heart instead of my head when I was 19 years old.
...That I had gone to work for the Santa Fe Railroad instead of the Post Office when I had to choose one over the other.
...That sugar free chocolate tasted as good as a Hershey Kiss!
...That I had been a better father to my children and appreciated them more when they were so young.
...That I had listened to my inner voice and sold and moved our family from the Argon St address after the burglaries and before the house fire.
...That my genes didn't make life such a genetic challenge for my kids.
...That I had been stubborn enough to keep trying to break into comics and/or animation instead of falling back on what I thought was financially secure.
...That I had been a better friend to my buddy Mr. Mike. Maybe then he wouldn't have turned out to be such a schmuck later on in life.
...That I had taken a leap of faith and transferred to Tulsa OK with the post office when I had the chance in 2001.
...That the Hokey Pokey WAS what it's all about!
Current mood: melancholy
I Wish...
...That freight trains still had a caboose at the end. It's like apple pie without the ice cream!
...That I had followed my heart instead of my head when I was 19 years old.
...That I had gone to work for the Santa Fe Railroad instead of the Post Office when I had to choose one over the other.
...That sugar free chocolate tasted as good as a Hershey Kiss!
...That I had been a better father to my children and appreciated them more when they were so young.
...That I had listened to my inner voice and sold and moved our family from the Argon St address after the burglaries and before the house fire.
...That my genes didn't make life such a genetic challenge for my kids.
...That I had been stubborn enough to keep trying to break into comics and/or animation instead of falling back on what I thought was financially secure.
...That I had been a better friend to my buddy Mr. Mike. Maybe then he wouldn't have turned out to be such a schmuck later on in life.
...That I had taken a leap of faith and transferred to Tulsa OK with the post office when I had the chance in 2001.
...That the Hokey Pokey WAS what it's all about!
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