My personal Episode as a Criminal at the Zoo.

You have to understand, I love my father and the things that he has done has just made him more comical, I had thought it best to include one of my own plotted out moments of revenge. I was like very few kids a very bad one when it came to five finger discounts. I admit I was then when the security tabs were first placed in to and on Cd’s. I was about when door scanners were not even installed in most places and a young teen we all had to start our bad habits somewhere. Before I was born as a Mall-rat I was a normal kid who paid for everything, with security guards who practically raised me.

Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don’t hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent – I don’t care which one – but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.

I was a saint, I never wanted to steal or hurt anyone ever. But then one afternoon I had gone to the Zoo, and it changed my life forever. I had a brother who I admit was connected with on a higher level of conscious, to many times had we communicated on the same fears and aspirations each of us seemed to have.  I could explain a story to someone about my brother and my brother would bring up the same story when they met that person.

He was amazing, the single best thing that I have ever known in existence. I thank the universe every day for the love we shared which was more then true unconditional but on a soul bounded kinship that words will never be able to do it justice… .

Anyway.. My saint brother had been saving up for this Safari hat, it was all he wanted when dad was going to take me and my cousin to the Zoo. It was a trip I was really excited about, but in the end it came to be something I would bring hell fire down on. I was a bit more then over protective when it came to my brother. I had no issues knocking the hell out of a lesser grader if they picked on him. Most of the time they had not but every once in a while they had, we can push it to the extent I would very much like to see you suffer over a lava pit or being given a sponge bath with sheets of broken glass.  There was an -Instant Hate- literally it was like a switch it was either on or off, and trust me you never wanted it off. I can hold a grudge like a 2 year old with a cookie.

Same way with grudges.

Anyway my brother goes to the zoo maybe twice ever 4 – 5 years so it was a big thing for him. Plus he got to go with Chris who he seriously loved and he was able to go with Dad as well. We got in to one of the stores and they Didn’t have the safari hats that he wanted but they had some white ones made out of cloth. We brought him in and there he was paying for something with his own money. We were all so happy, he put the hat on his head and with his heart full of light he rolled out the door.

Slightly outside this shop of hell there was a puddle and it was filled with perhaps some of the grossest things there. You have to understand we just arrived we had this idea of playing safari adventure and travel the out back and hidden jungles.  We brought binoculars and were ready to document any existing creatures and study the ones we had never seen. We were set, but it was then he hit a pothole, a speed bump and off flew the hat. right directly in to the mud, granted we had purchased it just a moment before. I rushed in immediately to talk with the sales associate or the manager and they both stood there like Gandalf the White.

No, was in all the answer I remember saying.. “Its your pothole. You are really going to do that to him? ” The light switch was ON. My next comment was “I am 12 but I know you have a policy for damaged goods that you received. ” I was trying to reason with a mountain and I was failing no matter how the wind may howl the mountain will not bow. This only poured gasoline on my existing flame, the problem was I wasn’t a flame I was the Hiroshima.

I was in all moments… Katie… Kaboom.

I had decided right then and there not to give a shit, I had made one of the most adult decisions ever. Which was, what was the worst they could do? They couldn’t send me to Jail, the worst would be Juvie but I would have to steal like 500 dollars worth of items just for Juvie. I would also have to get caught. My obsession with puppetry and magic tricks to good use. I walked out at first with the a few things to see if anything had worked if an alarm would get set off and one was in plain sight, next thing i knew it was on. There wasn’t an alarm and what ever genes were on went crazy, my brother had an electric wheel chair and i am certain I ended up shoving about 300 to 500 dollars worth of items in to that chair,  and my pockets when we got out it was only then anyone had seen what I had done.. My dads mouth was open, my cousin as well, same with my brother. I should of been more impressed with the fact the both of them were walking next to me the whole time. Or the fact that I was shoving things in Irl’s chair, still none were the wiser. Not a clue of them knew the kind of Cat Burglar I could of been.

I’m not just pussyfooting around this time, Batman!

A normal dad would of been Shocked. Mine was… A normal father would of scolded me.. Mine started to… it was then he looked to me as I pulled out the New and totally awesome 75 dollar safari hat that  I handed it to my brother and my brother smiled. He had been depressed that whole day, he came back with more Zoo merchandise then he could ever imagine. I had at least five hand fulls of Zoo pens, I had rolled up t-shirt, animal tracks music CD, movies documentaries posters toys beanie babies that were way over priced. I had astronaut candy and various of their types of candy, I had small games and if you think I couldn’t find room I did. My dad was in horrible Awe when he saw it and more and more my brothers face was lighting up.. I felt like Robin Hood, but with an awesome cape. We paid 30 dollars for a cloth hat that was really about 4 dollars.

My brother had been crying before, down right upset at the oil and everything that was soaked in to the hat. But when he had seen my one and only Robin hood moment he gave loose a big precious moments smile. Those giant green and large pupil eyes stared deeper in to me. I could see him looking at me while I posed like Peter Pan, a common criminal. Here I am standing with my gift to you. Joy. I would honestly go a little over board when my brother cried.

It's hard to say no, even to the statue.

It’s hard to say no, even to the statue.

I watched him light up like it was Christmas, he was the only one who said anything.. “You shouldn’t of done that… But thank you… ” My dad was like… “See this.. if they treat you like shit… Fuck ’em..” We all laughed.  But me I look back on it, and out of all things the one piece that survived the years of being a kid was none of it. Except the memory, that in itself is worth it.

 

TO comment: Since then any time I have gone to the Zoo I have donated money, I have paid it in full but I still donate. A stain on my soul I guess. I suppose its me trying to pay them back. But in other words, its an amazing place and I was just a kid.

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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…

“HOMO SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNN!”
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.

 roosterzombie

 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.

Swords and She-Ra

Hindsight

My Childhood and Teenage Years Growing Up With an

OCD Manic Depressive Bipolar Schizophrenic Father.

Image

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.

Image

SHE-RA!

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.

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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.

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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.