My apology to the Graduated Classes of 1998, 1999 and 2000

I am a horrible human being.

Knowing what I am about to confess is something that will haunt many in the mind and possibly in the heart as well. What I am about to confess is something much worse than I have imagined it should be. Now that I think back on my obsessions with joining the FBI and being a profiler on serial killers and kidnappers, it was all I wanted to be. I see this as an obsession. I know my weird actions in the days of old had lead me astray but I want you to know. It was me. I am sure I was spotted I am sure something was said or maybe something wasn’t said, you can reflect and yell at your classmates for what had been seen and not reported. Perhaps though.. I am that good. I could have been my own.

A long stem rose to greet Albert Fish.

I secretly waited for the near end of first semester to end. I knew my targets; I watched what went on during freshmen year. With that it leads me to one tradition. I would out do them all. As a teen I had the five finger discount down to an art. But that road leads me to this. I was the prime person for the job and what was worse, was I knew it was coming. The grin could barely escape me and I was smiling. I apologize for all of you who failed Child Development. When your egg or Flour baby went missing… That is right… It was me.
I was the one writing threats and making ransom notes on your children you never took care to. You want to know why you are so paranoid about your children missing today. You are right it was me. You took the time to make a little bed for that precious egg. You took the time to make a bed for it a home for it to be sure it would not get cracked or broken. You decorated it with the best little fuzz and happy smiling little face that you could possibly make. This was your pride and joy to you. This was your Egg Baby.

Your lovely baby egg… sitting there… all alone.

Though, when I looked at it I didn’t see a baby, I saw an omelet. I could see that cracked thing with broken shell and the yolk slipping in to the pan. I can’t help but curl a grin. I grew up on the Incredible Edible egg commercials and overall it is one of my favorite foods so versatile and used in nearly everything. My mouth watered, I was nice… if you really worked hard on your basket it was left, with an equally small ransom note. I was taking an Egg every few days. I should of sought out counseling but when I had it only fed my ambition.

Out of the frying pan and in to the fire.

You would talk a little too long to the crush you so badly wanted to get with while leaving your child 3 inches from you at your desk. One single bathroom break and the flour baby was gone. I watched your face in shock, and how you asked. No one would answer, no one would say what was to happen.

Your baby was taken to a closed dark locker where it sat with the other imaginary children I had been stealing. Don’t worry, yours was not the only one. There was plenty in that dark school locker where I had tons of VHS stacked up next to it. I would demand something horrible, something that might shock you. Cookies and candy bars were a normal ransom, but if the ransom was not paid…

Their tears taste delicious.

I baked your flour baby the next day. That right, the abundance of chocolate chip cookies that I would bring in. Amazing banana cake, I would cook you your own flour baby…. and let you eat it the next day. The sweet offering like some twisted mishap, you never knew it was coming like this. the smile when you were given the rest of the platter. Knowing your baby and some others babies were mixed together.Baked to golden perfection and served to you and your friends.
Why you say?

You still wake up sometimes, don’t you? You wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs.

Because Hannibal Lecter is my Idol, and I am really good at baking.


My Daughter Lazera

More me then I could ever be.

I have had the privilege of raising my daughter Lazera, she is a handful, she likes to do what you tell her not to and she is four so she is a monkey that knows no bounds. I owe a lot of grey strands to her and her sister Alex. But for now this one is just on my daughter Laz.

This is my Rifle this is my Gun!

This is my Rifle this is my Gun!

Lazera is an interesting child, but to view her from the outside I must look like a horrible parent. My daughter loves new words and tries her best to use new words constantly. So when I explained to her the different between the dogs and people we brought in to a species discussion about humans and canines. I wonder at times what the neighbors are thinking and I cannot help but laugh.

Like most young children Lazera has her imaginary friend. From years of Girl scouts and activities with little ones imaginary friends comes in all kinds of shapes ans sizes. Lazera however has, Sam Riccardo. Sam Riccardo is not your normal grade Imaginary friend, I noticed most imaginary friends were usually ambitions to get something you wanted without actually asking, or to place the blame on someone who was never there.

Sam Riccardo, would never do a thing like that, instead he was high-caliber Imaginary Friend. He was a secret agent, a spy if you will who was out on missions across the world. Doing what? Killing the bad-guys. Can you fathom what this means in any matter? My daughter picks a guy a bad guy that is some where in the world. Sam Riccardo goes and leaves on business and doesn’t return for months. But when he does, she gets told of the bad-guys end.

Secret Agent – Sam Riccardo – Bad Guy Hunter

She also has a habit of leading the children around her, and my 11 year-old cannot stand up to her even when she is twice her size and three times her mass. There is something sinister about my four-year old certain things are beyond her comprehension but she gathered quickly. For instance, she once came in asking what a tampon was. I told her during a little while of the week women have some abdominal pains which can lead to stress and short-tempered actions. It is best to take care of the problem with these and bananas. She asked me if they helped and I said yes, yes they do.

A month or two later I am having a very heated discussion on what it takes to sweep the floor and the result of a fully swept floor with my 11 year old. It was the 34,602nd time that I needed to explain the fundamentals of sweeping. I think Lazera caught on to how upset I was. With that she understood the problems it may had been, she returned a moment later with a sealed tampon in hand. “Here you are mommy you need one of these so you Must be on your period. ”

Yes…yes you are.

I should have died laughing but I could not get the bottom of my jaw off the floor.

One of the things I like to do as a parent is teach my kids words that they are not used to. Longer scientific words, Homo sapien sapien. Which there is still debate in the house whether or not that term is correct. But this tale embarks on a very vivid child with dimples and curls in the seat of her shopping cart as she held on with both hands.
“Mommy what is that?” She said as she was eyeing the odd-looking squash.
“That is an Acorn Squash.”
“Oh alright then and what are you?”
As if I was going to answer another form of squash I looked to her and said. “I am a human being, we are considered to be Homo Sapien Sapien.”
She looked to me and said the words several times differently. “You are a human, I’m a human… ” Later on it would occur to me just how much we sounded like Aliens from another planet to people on the street. My daughter would gracefully stand at the fence just as happy as she could be and speak to the people walking by.
“Hello Human! Are you enjoying Earth, I love Earth my favorite planet.”
I could just stand there and laugh to my self some times at the cuteness but then she gets this odd look when I ask her what she is doing. She turns her head side ways and scrunches up her hands as if she has some muscular compulsive action to curl her body.

I was talking to the humans.

I was talking to the humans.

So after this course of action I decided in the grocery store it was time to teach her the next word that would ruin me in public. Homo Sapien Sapien. This was my worst mistake ever. She was going through the store being super cute and I was being ultra proud. There was nothing holding her back from being happy. We get in to the line with a large cart full of groceries.
And then it began, the stars suddenly aligned and the signs of the Omen were upon me. Lazera was bouncing in her seat, and the beautiful words her mother had taught her spewed from her lip in a ray and ocean of racism.
“Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo !”

Parenting Nightmare! 101

There was no way I could escape the stares, with luck I began tossing what I could of the groceries on to the conveyor belt. It was not like she was being silent, oh no, this wasn’t in talking tone either she was practically singing this as aloud and strong as she could without screaming it. Her voice echoed and here I am poking my finger… “shhh stop that it’s not nice, shhhh don’t say that.. ”
My daughter the proud. To proud to hide that brand new word of hers. To proud to let the shh of her mother stop her from showing the world the new word she was taught. ” Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo Homo !”
The woman in the line was now staring, so much that one customer had left and the manager came over to bag the bags. The looks were horrid and I begin trying to bribe. “Shh if your be quiet mommy will give you candy.”
Muwahahahah sit vile woman! you taught this child these words and now you must suffer the wrath of everyone around you.
At this point, I was wishing that I had only tried purchasing two items. But no, I am an Extreme Coupon-er want-a-be. We are in this line for the long haul, the embarrassing long haul.
In all my wisdom I can feel myself getting possessed by Captain Picard. Shut Up Wesley was rolling in my mind while I can completely envision his epic face palming picture. My belief in the education in this one were failing.
“You’re a homo I’m a homo we are all a homo!”
My daughter sang about homo’s till the point I was about to cry and very much more red than the tomatoes that I was purchasing. I was at a loss. There was no hope for me. I was going to be forever banned as a LTBG Hater who was teaching her children the same. This was my devastation. Then suddenly in the symphony of song she ended her tune…

I breathed out and some people calmed another few laughed. I was relieved. She moved in the seat grinning.
“Did you like my song momma?”
Red faced I looked at her and pushed the candy bar in her mouth.  My Little Laz.

She talks to Jesus because no one could understand her.

She talks to Jesus because no one could understand her.

Lazera has this way of making things funny without meaning to but her comedic timing has had me dying enough times they should have had some tombstones made for me by now. On this past New Years Day Lazera came in to the living room where Travis and I were passed out.  When we woke she wanted something answered.
“Mother did you an Daddy stay up all night.”
To which the response was.
“Yes yes we did.”
Lazera looked over the both of us and rolled her eyes with a sigh as she crossed her arms.
“(Sigh) Waste of humans… ”

I will free you from your chains Sam Riccardo is on his way.

I will free you from your chains Sam Riccardo is on his way.

Revenge of the Rooster


It is bad enough that there are some issue with me and poultry, on the lower scale it has been one of my main sources of meat throughout my whole life. I have been a huge fan of the cooked winged species; it’s something deep inside me, a dark corner of my existence that revels in the pleasure of watching my fallen enemy battered in his young and then lowered down in to a large vat of oil and fried to my delight. For a moment , I feel like a supreme villain, finally getting my revenge on Bond.

bondAnd now suffer through my monologues!

It is my understanding that there was nothing more pleasing then the demise of all of Tyson’s army. I can pick up a fried chicken between my fingers and mentally tell it to run. When I am at Six Flags there is nothing that curls my lips more to smile then the smoked turkey legs. Part of me will always smile when it comes to the destruction of the fowl.

joker 2This Town Needs An Enema!

Little did I know, the Zombie Rooster was going to take care of us once more. It’s plan was so cunning that even his adventure of destruction in my childhood could not be compared to this one single moment. Ulysses S. Grant, you would have been proud of this Roosters tactics, straight out explicit chemical warfare. Though this does not take place until years later.

My father and the rest of us were unsuspecting of this plot against us. It was a war that could of gone off at any one of us, given any free amount of time. But the time bomb was set, and my father was the unsuspecting victim.  The rest of us were forced to follow and witness this in a horror that would forever make us hate certain items sold. There is no doubt in my heart that the rooster was responsible for this perfection set up. I am sure if I looked up the exact date and time this would have been close to the anniversary of its death.


 My revenge… oh the carnage.

It may have been a coincidence, it may have been just a special moment but there was a something strange about that evening.  The omnibus glow about the moon should have been a key sign. The rolling of the single plastic bag in the parking lot like a tumbleweed could have given us a fair warning that a show down was about to begin. It all began when my father had come to pick us up in the 1957 Chevy that had been spray painted with a very dull cheap spray paint so it looked like the car was running on ice cream. The car looked fake, as if someone had made it from cotton white; there was no sheen to it what so ever. The car had two seat belts but was a box of strong steel anything that touched it was going to crush against the good old American Muscle; the ‘57 could be used as missile if someone really wanted to. That someone was not my father, he drives like me five miles below the speed limit. Good driving citizens we have no reason to want to be pulled over ever.

We were to head to his house; normally we have this tradition we drive in to Sullivan and we hit Flying Jays, this is a key clue to knowing if dad was paid by the people who hire him for taxidermy.  This was one of the moments he was not paid that much and work was slow. Wal-Mart HO! Super Center awaits us, upon the back of battle Chevy we drive the long distance and get in to the parking lot, my brother and I immediately know it’s another weekend of dad singing behind a deer head and me and him on a couch with the filled cabinets of VHS movies and head cleaner mileage.

This was the weekend...Joy

This was the weekend…Joy

This time however there was something dark, and mysterious there were crows out and I’m sure pigeons too were gathering about murder Tyson. The rumor was spread among the rest of the fowl nation and they had come to a decision.  It seemed there was more than normal, or maybe it is just my imagination but they were gathering like the weird beginning of a Hitchcock Film.

Mitch Brenner: You're just a poor, innocent victim of circumstances, huh?

Mitch Brenner: You’re just a poor, innocent victim of circumstances, huh?

Brian, a pen pal and long distant friend had a radar when I was in town, but actually he was probably my longest known friend that I spent the least amount of time with. I saw him for maybe 30 seconds before my father would weird out about whatever offspring’s he could picture us having, he was a nice guy who went at his own pace and he was always sweet, the part that worried my father was the massive amounts of hair on his arms and legs. To me it was normal and thankfully for hair you could treat that, but this was beyond the comprehension of my father. Dad was mean… very mean to Brian.

 You are still my friend Brian and I am sorry…

 So if you can ignore the odd insane way my dad was about Brian we can get along with the story. We traveled to the back left of the super Wal-Mart where all your dreams of ICEE, hot dogs and Rotisserie Chicken was located. We went through getting the thing we traditionally bought:  two chickens, some chips, two ICEEs along with one Pepsi. We sat and began the family feast of and discussed what we had done since the last time we were here. Dad went to eating his chicken and this is where things went dark. It’s odd but I don’t remember anything being said, the graphics and mental play back was nothing in comparison to what was going on. By the time we had all finished little did we know there was a battle waging war in the stomach of my father. Where I love my peppers, black pepper, green, jalapeno, white pepper, wasabe and so on, my was the opposite. I am not sure what it was within him, whether it was an allergy, or perhaps it was an ulcer but the man could not handle pepper, even to the lowest of grades of simple black pepper. He was from a world of Lawry’s Garlic Salt with Parsley which is still today the world’s best Garlic Salt. (Trust me it is amazing.)

This must have been compared to the Battle of the Roses, where every time you turned around there was another over throw of a monarch and it goes on and on.

We had just gone down one of the isle, looking over the movies that we needed to buy. The last of the VHS that were still in the large tubs that you might want to swim through if you had the intangibility of Scrooge McDuck.There was plenty of labels to go through, names that Wal*Mart had to offer. And much like the DVD bins they have today it was about twelve movies just dozens of copies of them scattered in the bowl. Even though you can clearly see them displayed about the outside you have this Idea that something amazing might be down in there.

Admit it, as a kid, this was the most awesome skill ever.

My brother and I picked up VHS’s and held them up to each other debating what one we were about to watch. It was close, like death had breathed against the back of our necks, at that point we had turned to see our father looking much like the Walking Dead, his face had gone pale and it began to produce oils that I seriously did not think he was capable of producing.His body twitched as it hung over and the life was being sapped from him. It was strange watching this being in my fathers flesh, he moved in a staggering way, his limbs hung down like sacks of tubed bologna and he still had no clue what to do with them. Those eyes were soulless, rolling in the back of his head, one could only imagine the sheer pain he must of been going through.

Dad, I think you look a little... Dead.

Dad, I think you look a little… Dead.

He took off like a blaze to the medical isle and we rushed behind him following. Irl was pushed in his wheel chair just about as fast as life would take him. There was the screech of the winds around us and as we turned the corner Dad had opened the bottle of Pepto-Bismol and began to drink the whole thing…chug… after disgusting chug. It was not just one bottle.. Oh no, that would be too easy, but this was two.

The most disgusting thing on the planet.

The most disgusting thing on the planet.

Before we get in to this, you might want to walk away from this story, I will let you know I am a person who hates pink. No it wasn’t because I was a Tomboy, or because I preferred solid colors to pastels, it was because of the next horrific moments of this tale. We had thought my father was doing better, in fact we had gathered one more bottle sealed just in case that there would be something to help him with the burn he was experiencing. What would it to have been like in the war going on in his stomach. There was parts of fowl that were commanding their ships of pepper through the canals of acid and Pepto, stirring and swaying enough to give his liver a harsh case of sea sickness.

It’s like my dad threw up an old lady and dog.

There was light in this tunnel for a moment we managed to make it to the cereal aisle where my brother had taken his hand towards the box of Lucky Charms. My dad had reached his hand up and all I could think of was the expression on his face. I didn’t know if he was about to bust out in a Micheal Jackson solo or if he thought he was Kirby and about to suck in the entire shelf.

Oddest Comparison Yet

Oddest Comparison Yet

Both options were wrong though, he instead would turn his mouth up ward and the sea of Pepto was released. Lucky charms boxes and the isle of the cereal were getting sprayed by the most amount of liquid I have ever seen shoot out of someone. It was like he was drinking from the fire hose. This had to be the worst case I had ever seen. I am still scared to this day, the smell of Pepto-Bismol makes me nauseated. The idea of taking it immediately makes me want to vomit and this is with all knowing making my stomach do Yippy the dog back flips as I write this.  This was hell, its a hell known by the staff of any hospital, its the horror known by the janitors of any school. The pink vomit, this is not something that is easy to clean up. Remember, this vile drink is suppose to coat your stomach, no matter how hard you try you will be swashing it about the floor for hours. Everything it touches needs to be placed in Hazardous Wastes. There was only one kind of horror for what was done. There is only one scene ever made in history that could compare his actions to it, Stand By Me and the Lard-Ass Scene.

It was there that chunks of undigested chicken and chips began to fly out with seas of pink and brown oil. The amount of product that was damaged was just too much to claim. He didn’t stand in one spot to have this Vomit-tron fest to continue, no instead he moved running down the aisle as the ground and merchandise were getting sprayed.Too much yet? Yeah I am not even half way done.

charmsThey are disgusting not nutritious!

My brother and I stood there with our mouths hanging inches over the sea of disgust, we turned and looked to the Box of cereal we were about to get. The happy leprechaun looked like something out of a TromaVille movie, its face was distorted as bits and chunks began to fall  down the front of it and drizzle down the sides. We could of gone to the next isle backed out the way we came and followed through but no we were 12 and 10, we rushed after him, my brother and I slid through the hallway only in comparison to Micheal J. Fox and his one walking through in Teen Wolf. sliding hallMost graceful slide ever.

We rushed down the hall where he had not choice but to follow the pink trail of pink fluffy unicorn bits. Dad had taken off and despite our sliding efforts he had ran so far ahead of us we were lost. We had nothing to go by but the staggering feet prints through out the pink ooze. Isle of food and clothing had been sprayed it was something out of a true Wax-museum horror. My brother and I stood dumbfounded wondering why in the world did we not get sick, why it was just dad? I opened the cart of things we had bought and looked to check the receipt.. LP. Lemon Pepper.

There was a look to the other people of Wal*Mart part of me now wondered if they gave 95 percent off on Partially vomited Items, or was this just a loss for the whole store. That was the moment when the loving kind heated staff and over the counter Pharmacists came to meet my dad in the bathroom. I turned my head my heart was beating so fast a woman came up to the side wiping the vomit off my coat and helping with the wheels of my brothers chair. I looked at the face of Brian… in his hand was a mop and bucket. I say this again. I am so… sorry Brian.

My dad turned out to be fine, he was sick though his wolf shirt was stained pink and was tossed out. I was completely disgusted and asked dad if we could never go there to eat again. He solemnly agreed. That weekend dad wasn’t behind the deer. He was in bed and we watched the main bits of merchandise that was vomit free was playing in the VHS.

I declare you the victor Rooster. Least of that battle.

Fish Hooks and Family

As requested by my second mom, was to make the fish hook story. I was not there for everything that had went on, but in the Ditch family nothing is under done. Everything went off in a big affect. It was often a toss up between my Aunt Sharron’s home and my Aunt Melinda’s I have always loved my Aunt Sharron’s house it was like a race track. There was this ring and as kids we would run around it make laps like NASCAR fans. Anytime we came to visit some how there was a chase about her house. And it was always in one direction. The speed we would gather as little kids.

MjAxMi0wMTk2OTljM2UzNDg4YWRhI wonder what’s gonna happen?

This time we were at My Aunt Melinda’s, don’t get me wrong my family is very tightly wound together, unless you are me. I stopped going to church shortly after my mother and father were separated. I stopped believing in Christianity shortly after my Aunt -Nameless- had moved in with me, and I stopped wanting to be around people who would bring up the bad memories and ask the wrong things. So I left a lot of conversations both physically and mentally.

So when it came to true family I tried not to speak of the bad as much as possible. I found a slightly peaceful and almost romantic religion. Reading the main basics of their teachings I have moved on to being a Buddhist, this happened around the time when I was 20, one of the few decisions I got to actually make in my life. It’s awkward to be cause I have this odd attraction to the eastern cultures of the orient. I have a friend who I constantly joke with about having yellow fever. Bruce Lee had paved the path and everyone else seemed to follow through. Then you add the spiritualist of the Tibetan Monks, you might as well just let me sit and be a vegetable in awe. I was not until I moved to Texas for a few months and got to witness them first hand. We lived right across the temple and we had little to do, but the few times we walked by they happened to be the most kind and gentle creatures who walked the planet. So to top it off chalk up obsessed with guys in the orange robes. Changing religions  seemed to be one of those decisions that were never regretted.


If you have ever heard me fan-girling I am right now.

Side tracking. Our family is kind of large I have dozens of cousins just one one side, and easy few dozens on another side. I have so many Aunts I do not think I ever actually sat down and counted them all. Its odd because a lot of my cousins and I are related to more then once. Take my cousin Jess, myself and our brothers are related in a few ways but there is no incest or anything like that its just the odd way that it seemed to happen. Even though time and time again it seemed to be something distinctly evil the way the others put it.. “your family tree doesn’t fork.” No ours just does like a figure eight some where in it.

crazy-road-sign1Parts of my family tree, or a traffic sign you decide.

Her grandmother and my grandmother are sisters (and oddly enough they are both on our Mother’s side.) Leading to our mothers being first cousins, so that automatically makes us second cousins. Right after that my dad, and her father are brothers. So we are first Cousins by our dads Second Cousins by our mothers. When it comes to our dads, think of long hair in the 70’s one with a fashion sense only the rich British could envy and the other a backwoods man spurred on hunting and Elvis. Take a wild guess which one was my father, you only get one try. So these suave brothers come across this pair of cousins and then starts the relationships. Leading to marriage, one having their hair all nice and neat and straight looking dignified, and than the other looking like they stuck their fingers in to an electric socket then twisted their hair in tight curls. This is the second time you get to guess, again you only get one guess, so which one was my parents wedding?

CookieYup, you guessed it, here is your cookie.

So our very large family  is having either a Thanksgiving or Christmas, I am not sure exactly which one it was, but the whole family was there. The table was set up in beautifully, family was catching up and Aunt Melinda was a buzz with her amazing heart and good nature spirit perhaps the best god mother a person could hope for. It was a card Christmas people would laugh and hug each others talk about the good things in life. Hallmark should pay us for some of our family photos. Completely different then my other side of the family, that is a story for another time. So the fires warm there is music playing the 3rd generations of cousins are all trying to figure out who to play with. And my dad shows up, his beautiful wife Sara and there were two things that were off about him. The first thing I noticed was he was sprouting hair from the bottom of his knees and it touched the ground.

il_430xN.85609612Some where there is a Wookie walking about on peg legs.

Honestly I was staring at his feet for way to long there were certain things that once you get them in my head I begin to question all reality. I am a fan of Bigfoot, and odd legends of the unknown but I am not out there demanding that I have seen them, there might of been a strange slow in the evolutionary chain for some beings, or there might have been a few college boys strutting across Washington. Either way seeing him stand there I felt sorry. My father being the taxidermist that he is, I had to sit back and wonder what animal got butchered for this horrible fashion decision? I under stand that when you kill an animal you use everything but this poor creatures life was being put to shame by having feet shoved in to his carcass and paraded about like Go Go dancers last wish.

Those shoes were some how attached to jeans that went on to my dad, on up to his wolf pattern shirt his Texas Bola tie and Bear Claw necklace that hung about his neck on up to his nose. There there was a piece of metal that only a true fisherman would be ashamed to see happen and only a punk rocker could envy.


Oi! I should of thought of that!

My father had a 3 pronged barbed fish hook in his nose and not a small one either this was at least 2 inches long. “Sarah really hooked me this time.” My poor step mom was so embarrassed as he placed the blame on her. You can hear her in the back room. “I told him to take it out before he got here. But he wanted to keep it in. ” My dad finds things that are oddly humorous.  Come on the man makes own faces out of a deers rear end how can he not be? He went about the table striking up conversations I wish I had a camera to just capture everyone’s face that was made. Some where bizarre others were worried but the majority of the faces were wondering what he was going to do next.

Sakuma535But it’s so cool everyone will be wearing one!

My dad knew I was in to tattoos and piercings and wanted to get it UN-pierced at a shop. I could actually see him walk in to one of the shops wanting to get unperceived and then wanting to get a refund for a piercing they never gave. So every person has to see it. It was side show Bob. The Main attraction of the night was the hook in his story. Do you know how big the family is, so when a cousin comes over, doesn’t matter what time they see me the conversation always starts off with.. “Did you see your Dad?” That pretty much sums up the beginning of every conversation in my life with my family. Its an epic face planting moment where every time I can fell my spiritual hand slipping over my flesh and trying to peel it off. His sisters and brothers were telling him he needed to figure out what he was going to do about it. Dad was set one getting this out by means of no less then a band of British punks who carried spiked hair, Mohawks, piercings and flame throwers. That was the way he wanted it out and that was the way it was going to happen. It was talked about and looked at a few times he was told to go to the hospital and get help.

hook-in-noseIt’s only a flesh wound.

My family sat down to eat, the breathtaking table of this beautiful meal that my aunt had worked so hard at preparing.  Another almost Hallmark moment if you could just pan over the metal art attached to my dad’s face. It was hard to pray, I don’t think a single one of us prayed for ourselves. I am sure I am not the only one who cracked an eye at that piece he had in his face. It was metal, perhaps magnetized or it was directly in the center of his face it was hard to talk to him and not Captain Hook who was resting peacefully in a nostril. There was this moment in silence when they all prayed. None of asked for something for ourselves, I am more then certain every single one of them was praying the same thing..

tumblr_lqt6clfW3z1qzzsd3o1_400Oh Lord bless this, thy hand grenade.

“Dear lord, please get that hook out of his nose… ” then the head whisper. “No one can eat staring at thing.” So he wiggles his nose like he is some kind of a rabbit, the barbed metal becomes an icon like Punxsutawney Phill, the hook was deciding if it was going to leave his nose and start an early sanity, or see its shadow and stay hooked and allow 6 more weeks of face palming. I am not sure how it Houdini-ed it’s way out of his nose but some how this barbed hook slid out with not so much of a drop blood on the banquette meal that was made. On sneeze after prayer and it was shot out on to his plate. There was a moment of complete relief where Sarah and I realized there is a higher power watching over us. There is someone listening to the random wishes of the mortal realms not sure who it is but I thank you all! Dinner was saved!

b christThank you Jesus!

My Great Grandmother and Her Unwanted Zoo.

I have a wonderful great grandmother who I saw every single day when I was living next to her, I visited her before and after school, if she needed work I was there. I was absolutely adored by her stories. Her house and mine were back to back I climbed over one fence to get to my great grandmothers house. I absolutely miss this part of my life, because of how dear she was to me. Every time I saw her she was always trying to give me jewelry cause we wore the same ring sizes and often I would refuse.  She had made quilts, and it was so sad, you know if she was asking for spinach that some one had passed on. I remember when she had lost three friends in the same year and she was so upset about the spinach. Spinach casserole is what she made for the church after parties.


The Spinach Casserole – Church sign of Someone just Died.

Since my mothers death I have never been a person for church after parties. In fact, if I can avoid the whole funeral I will. It’s easier for me. But my great grandmother was made on tradition. She was an amazing woman. But she was in the later years in life, she would still get out every once in a while and garden with me. It did not happen as often as I liked it and she only came out for a moment but we took care of her home really well. Problems with the steps were often fixed by me at least temporary. The woman had so many stories that I will share with you in something more dedicated to her.

However if you can picture the great grandmother with her wrinkles and her smile behind large glasses, busty and a bad back to go with it, that was her, kind and sweet as pie. My dad was getting closer and closer to one of his break downs. I think I was about 14 years old when this happen so I’m not exactly sure on the date. But he had a studio he worked for years called Back To Nature – Taxidermy studio (Yeah did not mention he was a hunter and a taxidermist yet.) He came to visit us on Halloween season and it was the day after that I got a call from my Great Grandmother, and she demanded I come over right away.


He did what?! Don’t worry G’G’ I ‘m on my way!

I am not sure what went on in the mind of my dad at this point in time, she woke up from her nap and her house had been turned in to a zoo. My Great Grandmother I have only seen upset twice, in her whole life and this was one of the time. There was a certain distinction in her voice when she got upset, it was like the world had paused as the wrinkles became a bit more defined and her eyes would widen behind the magnifying glasses. She had a shaking in her voice that one could only sustain. There is a stillness in every move she made as if  she was marble. This woman was holding back all her anger. I knew if at that moment my dad were to get in to her house, there was a chance grandma would be as little Christian as possible.


The Christian F-U.

This is the moment where you stand back and look at my father and think to yourself ” What in the world are you doing?”  I arrive there and it was like a the Noah’s Ark of Missouri had crapped in her house. There was squirrels in her kitchen, about 3 of them, there was pigeons… in her home, she had an extra stray cat that was trying to claw the couch, there was pine cones from her cuckoo clock replaced with real ones so it threw the pendulums off.  So, I get in there and there is this cat up in the corner and its just hissing back at me. Apparently my dad went out and lured animals into her home, he could of been offering them drugs cause they were all insane. Instead one of the squirrels rushed off with this insane chatter, I had to chase out from under three beds, I finally caught him on the curtain which I had to pull down. Which I can understand why he was so pissed, he was probably relaxing in his little squirrel nest before crazy man in the fu manchu mustache squirrel-naps him to an old house of doilies and figurines.

I had him wrapped up in a blanket that I had to take outside. Even when I did the little fur ball was clenching on to the blanket for dear life. “No I don’t want to leave, that is the best place…. EVER… it smells like cookies…I promise not to eat the furniture!” It was one of the most difficult things to do you would think being higher up on the food change would make things better. But not this tiny terror, caught in the blanket, it shook like it was captured by the mental institution. It was throwing a fit and the only thing that I can compare it too is the actions that were done in The Great Out Doors. A family freaking out on an adventure while the great John Candy tries to direct on how things should go. It was an epic journey of failure. I rushed the beast with in the sheets out the door with the happiness that I thought it was over. Granted this last bit of the experience probably only lasted about thirty seconds but I am sure it felt more like 5 hours. I opened the blanket and began to shake it off but it rushed with a vengeance trying to climb back up the blanket to me.

An all out fight was waged as I shook the blanket with two hands trying to get rid of this thing. The squirrel jerked further and further down the blanket to the end and something in my mind had told me this was a bad idea I should stop … now. But the yelling of my great grandmother at the other animals in the house made me continue the  jerking of the blanket. The poor squirrel it held on with one paw, and then the other paw before it was launched in to the air. I saw the thing gain about twenty feet in the air as it shot in to the sky and then would start its descent in to the tree. It landed there of the branch and it STILL did not run. It stayed there on the tree staring and chattering away like a pissed off Speedy Gonzales.  I was expecting it to turn in to Taz from Looney Toons and just wreck the house after that.

Throw me in the air, I’ll be back after dark!

My grandmother gave another yell and we opened the doors for the flood gates of animals to come pouring out. Her birds in her cages were squeaking and cawing at every move we made. “No these are our company! what Do you think you are doing! You better put down my Niece RIGHT NOW!” It was total and utter chaos. My great grandmother had a cat pillow and there was the ragged feline on the couch who was perhaps the easiest of them all. My hand went back and I took off my shoe, with a near expert throw, mind you I spent most of my child hood out throwing the men in Saint Ann and Saint John during town fairs, the shoe went at the cat flying like a baseball and hit right next to the rear end.


Get out of here! She be Crazy!

The cat took out the door which calmed most of her pet’s down. Grandma was yelling about something else, and it was the one thing I could not stand, an opossum. I hate them, almost as much as I hate roosters the bad part is was the damn thing was backed in to a corner and normally they want to play dead and not move. This time this one was on the same crack as the others. It turned and hissed at me and immediately called me out. The Opossum had claimed my grandfathers room as his own and was going to take it too his last breath. I was stuck with grandmothers arsenal.


So they asked me what I was afraid of, and I said “Not a Damn Thing.”

Which would of been so cool if she had one, instead I was armed with metal dustpans, brooms and mops at the ready, I could of gone further and added bucket on my head and an apron covering my chest for this battle. I had laid under his hospital bed while I played a bad game of shuffle board and literally had to sweep-scoot- this thing to the street corner. It was a continual game of yelling and hissing back and forth between me and this oversize mutant rat.  It would turn back at me and make faces that just drew my own personal hatred of this animal even further. It was not JUST getting the animals out of the house, I had to get them off the property, my grandmother had tons of old vines and giant sweat peas that would of taken over her house if not cared for. There was tons of places for them to stay and hide. So you could see me running down banging the dustpan and the broom as I rushed to defend my grandmothers house till my last breath!


My houssssssssssssssse!

I’m not sure what is it about me and birds but we never seem to get along, I have an issue, it might date back to the parrot that often stopped my heart and damn near made me piss myself any time I was at my Uncles Davids. (Who just happens to be one of the most talented men I have ever had the privilege of knowing.) I swear the thing would just stay there and I would walk around the corner and it would make this screech that would scare the hell out of me. Between that and roosters you would think I would be okay with some kind of bird at some point. So just from the fear factor of parrots I had to deal with another scare factor.


What you got a problem with me?

If you want to picture me jumping and waving a shirt at this bird you can but it went in a little deeper then just that. The bird flew us from room to room.  I just had to deal with this same situation when my daughters had let in a bird by their window and it was stuck in the house for about an hour or two of trying to get it to understand the windows are not door. This adventure was coming to a close for me and my grandmother. We had successfully cleared out the house, grandmother I went to wash the blankets and re-hang the curtains and re-arrange all the furniture, we ended up finding a frog in the bath tub so that was easily let outside and was a bit easier to lure. I knew the expression my grandmother was going to make I was starting to apologize for my dad but she was the one who taught me not to. I had always wanted to be there to see this discussion take place between my dad and my great grandmother. But I think it was one of those things that was just left. However when ever I came to visit she would bring up the stories to my kids, and normally she said it with a smile but every once in a while you could see that look in here eyes.

ImageShhh! I’m not done complaining yet, you just hold on a moment.

Death of a Rooster

There are interesting ways the farm teaches you about death before any other area. You have that creature you love to feed and months later its laid out on the family table, stuffed and filled with vegetables that it use to run in. It is interesting when you think of the first death you have to experience. Not like a person, those are often more traumatic, often… Remember the words right here, often. The first death I ever physically witnessed was done by my father, out of all things it was a rooster, not just any ordinary rooster, and evil one.


Scariest thing on the Planet.

I was under the impression for my birthday I could have my party the way I wanted to, this was acceptable, and I was in love with Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. He was the most splendid boy to ever not touch the world. I remember countless nights leaving my window open and was waiting for him to take me away. Peter Pan was very intelligent, he must have been a doctor in a previous life, he knew I was getting sick and needed my mother. So, he left me there to get pampered the next day.  When I was turning five I had decided we were going to have a party with a Tinkerbell and Pirate theme. Everyone from church and the community down the road was invited.

peterThey say you never get over your first love.

To prepare for this event there were things that were needed, Jason who lived down the road was lucky enough to be on a fruit and vegetable farm. This was the breaking in to my addiction. A horrible addiction one that only myself and Scooby Doo truly understand. There is something sinister about Velma, and the other members of Mystery Incorporated. I always tend to look at Scooby-Doo like a victim of circumstance. Scooby just wants to sit back and chill with his snacks in the Mystery Machine. While the others take his addiction and give him a type of pressure that only one with an addiction can suffer from.


When offered he is normally accepting but there are times his will power gets up so high he mutters the sound “Ruh-uh.” And this is his version of no, its normally followed by the shaking of his head. So his peers once more place an offer, this time knowing he will want more they up the anti. Scooby… I understand your pain. My addiction was strawberries, is strawberries. The neighbors farm had an entire acre that was given to just strawberries.

double-strawberryLet me just wipe that drool off the screen.

So my mother could get me to do about any task she wanted if she had a serious stash of strawberries. However, they were only a stash till I found them, then it was on, there was a discovery waiting to happen and it was my want in life to have an OD experience from strawberries. More often then not, I had devoured them all til I felt sick, sickly sick, the only kind cartoons feel where their face changes to the green color and their skin begins to lose it’s elasticity and droop off your face. Yes that kind of sick, shortly after I would pass out wake up refreshed and ready to try my hand at finding the other strawberries the next morning. No, there was no lesson learned there, to this day I am still defying the amount of strawberry consumption each chance I get.

sticker,375x360We had to gather an assortment of fruits for this party, so we had fruits of all kind even those I did not like or want to touch the fruit I loved dearly, in fear that the flavor of one would some how infect the flavor of another.  Mother had decided to make the game of Hide and Treat. It was like Easter there was piles of fruit in various spots through out the property and you had a basket that you had to fill. At the party we had just started this game. The eight of us rushed off in different directions and tried out best to find what fruits we could. This was an easy task and should have been a simple game but little did I know, I was going to be a victim of a most brutal assault.

Earlier that day the chickens were to be fed. The rooster, however normally ran about the farm doing what ever rooster things he wished. He must of been away when the corn bits were tossed in the golden glints on to the ground, or to be jumped upon by the chickens close by. This rooster must have skipped out on it. When he came around the corner, he was strutting. He must have been plotting what was going to happen. Walk up, check out the fruit, scare child, collect fruit and complete farm domination.  When the rooster had decided my pile was his, he displayed so by looking at me and cocking his head to the side.

roscocOh no girl, those ain’t yours uhhh uh.

It was questioning me on every move I made, every bond I break, every breath I take! It was worse then the Sting Stalker Singles that they use to sell! I had nothing more to do but decide to take my basket and try to shoo the rooster away. In my mind I had this planned out, one fail swing and down goes Tyson. But this was not the case. Tyson had other plans. I swung and Tyson moved in for the kill.

It was a run by wing buffing, left shots and right shots and no one could even see it coming, Tyson was a destroyer of dreams he was a goblin of desires and much like the Goblin King, he told me to turn back with his demonic bawk bawk. I was scared so I fled back to the table to get some reinforcements, I could of grabbed another pile of fruit and went on but this.. no, no this was needed. There was a lot going on in my mind. Did that rooster just challenge me? The most awesome Tiger Lilly to ever run with Peter Pan! No this was not happening! I refused to accept this I could feel it in every bone of my body, If I had known what chicken was made in to I would of been running for with full Braveheart Charge!

BraveheartThey might take our lives but they can  never take our strawberries!

It was at the moment of the yell, I felt like Leonidus, for my roar was strong and long. I am sure it echoed and reached every inch of the property. Still that rooster was not going to budge, I charged at it and it drew back and carried a weapon I had never known to exist. Its beak! I was unprepared I admit it, I waged war thinking I could over throw this, I was a fool, I was underestimating Tyson… At this very moment. I was General Custer.

Custer_Portrait_RestoredWhere’d all these Indians come from?

It was then that I knew this was bad. I was being pecked to death, the bird had become a massive beast set upon ripping the strawberries apart like well starved raptor. I knew that I was going to perish Tyson was not going to let me survive this, and much like the now chosen name of this rooster I remember many various bites to the ears. I had fallen down, victim to the insane skill the rooster was displaying it jumped on my back pushing talons on my shoulders and started to scratch, it came down with its beak, pecking at my neck. My father came in like Superman, but he looked more like Patrick Swayze.

superswayze He came in like a 49er, kicked the rooster like a field goal, it was mom and dad who leaned up my scratches and made sure I was all right. My dad had a big determination that evening, he took me out in to the chickens and he went with me and pulled out the rooster who had attacked me and was my victor in combat. I was a  very angered child, not even a single strawberry. When my father asked me if that was the chicken that had scratched me, I felt like Emperor Nero.


Thumbs… Down.

My father wanted me to see this and to understand I suppose of what was going to happen, he pulled out one of the largest knives we had for the cutting meat and he drug me out to wards the chopping post. The next few parts will get a little graphic living on the farm there is always some animal violence. So, sorry PETA. When we got out there mom had tied the rooster to the post.  I had no clue of the outcome of when a rooster or chicken dies, I had thought they fall lifeless to the ground and soon become the instrument of awesome in a WhizBang! However there was this stare that the Rooster gave me that I will never forget.

meanrosBawk Bawk….

The rooster expression was cold and calculated. Little did I know he was summoning the seed of Satan. I did not know there was things like Zombies. But that rooster was a zombie. Normally the chicken was tied both at the head and the legs to the post to make things quick and simple. However it was just a tie about the head, this must have been the roosters last request. My father moved to swing at the rooster, and plop came off the head dangling from a single string. The next pieces have haunted me for ever.


Its head hung there off the rope the same stare and evil look in its eyes as it watched me. Suddenly, the body began to move running after me and catching up. It was the Walking Dead the Poultry Edition. The bird was moving at speeds I didn’t think possible every time I turned around it was there with No-head, leaning and following me. It was like Mike the chicken with out a head but its evil possessed brother. I ran away from the area and it was still on my heels the every presence of this spawn of Satan was following me. I remember thinking “I will never eat chicken again or eggs or anything that has feathers. ” I was praying some how this bird was going to get me again. My screams were surrounded and as I ran I heard a sound behind me it was like the wind; it was something like a tomahawk. The sudden impact turned my attention back. I stood there my heart was racing as I stared to the size of the machete that was stuck in to the bird and in the tree.

I stood there in awe, in relief, as a saved by the man my father and his beastly arm that slaughtered off the demonic rooster. My father had turned to me and in that moment of his awestruck epicness. He leaned down to me and said at that moment.

“He’s not going to hurt you again now is he?”

No dad, he won’t. I stood there watching the corpse till the last bit of life twitched from his form. I stared knowing I was saved. There was something in me that understood what was coming next for me in life..

Fried chicken.

Swords and She-Ra


My Childhood and Teenage Years Growing Up With an

OCD Manic Depressive Bipolar Schizophrenic Father.


There is a small problem with growing up with Robin Williams as an Idol, he is paid to be crazy and spontaneous and absolutely hilarious; legally insane as he put it. So, with young idolizing I had done, I had thought my father was perhaps one of the most normal beings ever. He was funny to me and made me laugh tremendously at times. Other times this was not so much, I would stand back in constant shock about what he was doing and for the life of me could not fathom how these things connected to him.  But everything did, I grew up as the girl who would say… “Well that’s… my dad.” It wasn’t with pride though, least not most of the time; it was more often if not a way of not saying sorry but sympathizing with someone close by.  Someone sharing the same look of I cannot believe what this person is doing. Yeah, sometimes, you just want to tell them to go away.

barbradyBut still they stare and ask what is he doing? Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you just want to say “I have no idea.. we should really just walk away.” Leave him to his episode and then just let the world go in to chaos behind you back and you will know you are getting that call at 2 in the afternoon from a family member going to inform you on all the things your parent has done.

ImageRobin Williams you could of adopted me!

This is not a book about how horrible of a father I had that is not completely true. This book is called Hindsight for a reason. Years later, I look back and laugh at the situations that happen the off the wall actions and reactions that were done and it is more or less hilarious. At the time it was frightening, scary, embarrassing and just plain weird who knew.  This book is a list of my memories of situations that happened. I would love to crack open my father’s mind and let you in it for a look-see but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Anyway I hope this helps those of you who have a parent who is this way. Perhaps you can sit back and smile to the odd ball things your own family members have done in the past and bury whatever hatchets one may need to bury. After all, everything is better with Hindsight.



As a young girl I was in love with the He-Man and She-Ra cartoons the names were simple for a child to grasp, this was the core heart of my existence. I grew up on three acres of nothing but a small pond. There were three trees set out in the front yard, a cherry, a plum, and a crab apple.  There was a long rock road that was twisty that made it up to the house. In the front the large trucks with big signs that were orange, had the words displayed YELLOW on the front would pass by nearly every day in convoys over the hills area of Missouri. Our nearest neighbor was a few miles away. Civilization was about 35 minutes away.

ImageYeah, this is not yellow, and these trucks I wish I could of sued for mental issues on how many pets of mine they slaughtered. This and flat pet bodies on the asphalt : early childhood.

Isolated from the rest of the world, I believed everything was the way it should happen. We had a lot of animals from rabbits to giant geese; large turkeys and chickens, a giant snapping turtle, goats, roosters, arctic foxes and wolves. I had a zoo practically that was mine to play with whenever I wanted, I am pretty sure there was a donkey or something as well but who knew.  I had a full safari of animals that if I wanted could be released from their shackles and allowed to roam free. Insert an evil laugh! For the most part, I loved my life in Pea Ridge, there was no one to tell me or look at my father oddly there were no faces wondering why this insane being was let out. No comments on how normal people do not act this way. It was just… free.

The youngest incident I can remember was I was finished with my Peter Pan obsession. I had watched the movies so many times it was known word for word in my 4 year old mind. I had a head dress made from turkey feathers from Jake, the turkey, who was last thanksgivings dinner. The shows were changing on the television it was no longer the age of repeating stories and Captain Kangaroo. It was a new age a changing age.. It was the Age of HE-MAN. But honestly, what father wants their daughter drooling over barbarians with swords as they go to make bad guys flee the scene! It might be why so many of us who grew up in this area would love to scream out obscenities about a Castle Grayskull and smite our obstacles, it would make life at work interesting. Corny jokes paved the way for brain cell destruction. You laughed cause Chisel Jaw was throwing his head back and laughing. She-Ra was made for girls, they had to separate the television show cause it was absolutely foolish to focus the shows for both girls and boys.  The girls came out in easy to remember names and brightly colored outfits.

ImageStripperella? Missing She Ra Extra?

I had it in my mind I could be She-Ra, no this was a fact. I imitated her moves followed her every course of action.  Catch Phrases were great, “For the Honor of Grayskull!”  I said them after everyone drilling them in to my parents brain like some odd form of guerrilla warfare.

“Cynthia, you need to go and clean your room”

“What foooooooooooooooooooor mom….”

“For the………… Honor ……of………… Grayskull……”

You could hear her slowly losing all will to speak.

“For the Honor of Grayskull!”

— And some where in there I’m certain my closet was destroyed shortly afterwards.

So I finally decided. I had learned they ways, I fought the enemies with honor in my heart. Though they could not stand a chance, I was more like… Glorian, from JourneyQuest in every single aspect.


Pretty much.

After defeating the live stock and any stray creatures through out the yard with sticks I was certain I had leveled up, and it was time for some better weaponry. I had devised a plan, my parents had said I could be anything I wanted to be, anything at all. All I had to do would be to try at it. So I took that plan and in my just turned five year old mind I believed it was time to ask the ultimate question.

“Dad… I want to be She Ra..”

“But you don’t have a sword.”

“I could if you made me one.”

“I am not going to make you a sword.”

I figured if I found a good reason why I needed a sword I might be able to get one. So I devised a plan. Swords were needed for things of defending the house. So if there was a reason that the house was in danger I might be able to get a sword. I was delighted at the thought and quickly began to plot against them. In our home you could not leave food in any room but the kitchen. So opening the doors and sprinkling bread crumbs is a serious no no. I am the parents nightmare.

ImageOh yeah, worst nightmare.

I took animals in, I fought them off in the living room with a broom and chased them through out the house defending on the family homestead. For honor.. no not for honor there was a blade I needed. My cousins had heard of the fact that my sword had still not been made. That I was not She Ra, and this would never do. Instead of playing He-Man and She-Ra we were reduced to playing Ghost Busters. Which would of been awesome, but there were no female ghost busters, my lack of male genitalia was again ruining my want to play with cousins. (Yes the worst sentence in here.)  It was after this one incident that I refused to do anything else but play She-Ra and He-Man the next time they came over.

So, my cousins had come to play, my aunt had come over to bring her 2 sons and sit and talk religion.  I refused to play, I refused to leave my room. The day went on and I was not going to play. I had no intention of saying “hi” to anyone. Hours went by and several times they had come to check on me. Soon it was bed time, and my mother was worried so when she was asking me what I needed to feel better, I told her. “A sword.” It was then she had a discussion with my father about making me the sword. In the morning I woke up to my father hammering away at his make shift forge. Days went by, and more and more coal was needed so we had to gather more sticks and trees and logs.

My dad had said he wanted to make me a fantastic sword, one that only She-Ra could wield. So scrap metal after scrap metal, was welded on to this sword till it was 6 feet long the edges were rounded. There was a smile that no one could take off my lips. I ran for it, I went for it and dispute my efforts… I could not lift the sword. 2 days of trying but like all good stories. On the third day. I became She-Ra. I had made a rope and went out with my sword attached to it and hung it over my shoulder and dragged my sword across the yard.  There was nothing else with in me but the urge to fight my enemies.

ImageSquash them…. squash them all.

About a mile away lived my friend Jason and his father and they were taking their Sunday walk from church. in the yard they see this child tied to like a long pipe and running circles in the yard. Any Family Services worker would of came up and took me away. The rope had slipped so many times it fell off and was moved and I looked like I was a caned victim. Our neighbors came out in to the yard, and called my parents out. I am not sure what the conversation was. I am sure it had to do with me and the self inflicting marks I was making cause I was bound and determined to be able to carry that sword.

In the end mother had told me the rest of the story. I remember getting drug off shortly after my father began to rip his shirt off and screaming about being He-Man. There was a lot of confrontation and mother had stated several time that this was going a bit out of hand. In the end it was the image of my father running down the road stripped down to his underwear doing a Tarzan chant about the Power of Grayskull, the neighbors were steadily increasing their speed in front of him till they got off the property. To this day, I am not sure how my dad had decided he was going to be He-Man or how he talked the neighbors in to letting him chase them. I would like to think the world was like that, my father in his fruit of the looms running down the road with a six foot sword in hand protecting us from a neighbor who was worried over my own safety.

At the time yes, I was the bad little kid that desperately wanted to teach herself a lesson. I was the child that would not take no for an answer. The neighbors were not upset at my dad, They were dear friends on till our departure of that wonderful home. But the lesson that I really learned that day, is parents have ways to make you regret asking for a gift they did not want you to have.


You’ll shoot your eye out kid.

It was not till I was 17 that I asked for another sword. Once more my father had found I had another obsession. Adrian Paul, and the Highlander. I showed him a picture of a fan blade that cost almost 200 dollars, and my dad returned me with a welded sheet metal sword, with a highlander bumper sticker on it, roughly about 7 feet long, lesson has been learned and relearned.