They told me to write a book…..so I did.
Watersheds
Dwight was born on July 1, 1990 in Harvey, Illinois. Adolescence and being a free spirit with a lot of irresponsible behavior gets reevaluated when one realizes they are a Dad.
Having a son is an awesome thing. At least I wanted him to be everything that I wasn’t.
Now, before I go much further, yes I am going to discuss the elephant in the room. That being stated, rambling is my forte’. It gives the “professionals” a chance to get a deeper look at what makes this author tick. For better or worse.
I don’t open up to people, I don’t trust people, for the most part, I don’t like most people. There may be three people that I have ever fully laid it out there, no one any of us knows. That includes a spouse.
Side thought – quit scratching stuff out on paper, you can always edit when you type.
Now – back to Watersheds
The moment you realize you can’t do it alone, no matter how strong you think you may be. You certainly can’t drink your way out of it. That moment when you make a choice, die or fix it. Now the years of repairing the physical, emotional, mental, relationship damage. Many people know, few people admit the course of self-destruction that consumes every aspect of life. Since I was 20, my self destruction has been poor diet, lack of exercise, physically just saying “I don’t care anymore.” Why should I, no one else does.
Apologies to Ol Red in Shawshank, get busy living or get busy dying. Truly those are the only choices.
Therapy works, at least for me. Three years of figuring out me, very little talk of what happened with Dwight. Who hurt me so deeply that I loathe myself.
That moment when you finally say – I can make something good out of this situation. You finally say enough is enough and take a stand, without wavering. Hold that thought for a moment as I also write you fight the battles that need to be fought. Pick and choose, decide, is this really worth my energy. Life is chess not checkers.
What do I recall from childhood? We certainly weren’t poverty stricken but we were poor. 7 kids on a military salary doesn’t go far. Lot’s of whole milk cut with powder, government bricks of cheese. Meals that would last a week. A burger wrapped in paper a couple of times a year was a feast.
I was born in Alaska, can’t say I remember any of it. Maybe bits and pieces of moving from there to Texas, probably wrong memories of the Great Alaskan Earthquake. Good Friday, 1964, I would have been 2 years old at that time. 5:36 pm, so it was probably dinner time, 9.2 and lasted five minutes they say.
Being a military family, it was not unusual for my father to get stationed at different bases. From Elmendorf AFB in Anchorage – semi humorous story or maybe the lack of education. I registered to vote once in Illinois, the person doing my voter’s registration wasn’t going to allow me because I was NOT a citizen of the US. Well, Alaska gained statehood somewhere around 1959, I was born in 1962. Either way, Alaska has been a US territory since, oh, maybe 1860’s – wasn’t it once called Sewards Folly?
Well, from Elmendorf AFB, he was stationed at Perrin AFB near Sherman, Texas. So howdy y’all, that is where the Texas claim originates.
I do come by a southern heritage fairly honestly. Father’s side of the family is Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas – Mother’s side is Ohio, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Missouri. I do tell that I ate a heapin pile of beans and cornbread in my lifetime. Never could acquire the hankering for milk and cornbread, I reckon that’s okay.
One of the things I always tried to do with the children (Dwight and Nicole) was travel. Even if it was just a quick road trip to Wisconsin or a little further one to Colorado. I wanted them to see this country, as much as possible.
Dwight loved music, he was talented – I know there is some bias there – he taught himself how to play many instruments. His love was Electronic Music, it’s a lot more work than people think, don’t criticize them until you actually try to put a mix together.
Being born in 1990, he was exposed to a variety of music. The “old man” listens to just about everything, one minute I would have Pearl Jam 10 (by far one of the best albums ever made, after Yield, you can have them), the next La Boheme (it’s an opera – look up that veiled movie reference).
I like to think that influenced him but who knows, I know there was always music, and books, not a lot of television but Nickelodeon was a little revolutionary at that time (meaning, stuff that was much better than Elmo). Most of his toys were either learning based, creative, or sports related.
Back to Sherman, TX. Don’t remember much of our first journey in the town. Only two things, at that time in Texas – steers and the Dallas Cowboys. Oh there may have been some football rivalry down in Austin between the Horns and Sooners – that was pretty much it. I don’t even remember if I went to kindergarten there not sure.
I do remember that either in 1967 or 1968 we moved from Sherman to the metropolis called Jefferson, OK. My father was deployed to Vietnam for one year and the family moved to Oklahoma. So, yeah, I remember watching whatever nightly news was on, not understanding the ticker running across the bottom of the screen. Hoping that maybe we would see him when they did a live feed from Da Nang.
He never really talked much about ‘Nam, not until his last few years. He knew I had a deep interest in the Vietnam War so he bought me books or we would watch documentaries of it. While I know he was on an AFB there, I also know that it was Da Nang. I figure I could research more but that is not on this radar right now.
Redneck, Dirt Poor, Barefoot and Backward
We lived in the church parsonage next to the First Methodist Church of Jefferson. I’m guessing it was because my Grandfather was a Methodist minister, probably because he knew it required little or no work and he could mooch off of people. To say it was a farming community is an understatement, I would use other words but my younger brother and I are the only ones who know how that we were one wheel from trailer trash.
Jefferson had a total population of 120, our family of 7 represented a sizable amount. It’s a farming and ranching community. Once part of the Cherokee Nation it became a key part of the Chisholm Trail. (Come-a ti yi yippie yippie ay).
Grain elevator, railroad, dirt roads, that’s about it. Behind our house was a pit or drain hole, never knew what it was for until the day we jumped into it and realized it was where water drained from the house. So, yeah, I swam in poop. Being a kid who really didn’t care or know better, climbed out and went back to playing.
I don’t have many memories of Jefferson. My bus driver was a farmer named Mr. Scott, he took me a few times out on his farm during harvest, I got to ride in the combine. I do recall learning how to kill chickens, won’t go there, a little graphic.
Also learned other important skills, snapping beans, shelling peas, shucking corn, shoveling pig shit, riding cows, picking okra, all the good stuff.
We would travel over to where my grandparents lived. Like I said, he was a lazy assed – SOB. Don’t remember if it was Freedom, OK, Nardin, OK or whatever other jerk-town they lived.
Post Vietnam, The Republic of…….
After my dad returned from Vietnam, we moved back to Sherman. When they announced they were going to close the base he talked about retirement. I remember talking about moving to another town near Sherman, he took a transfer to Colorado Springs.
Sherman, we had a decent house if memory serves. Right down the street from a park and ballfields. The good ol days – ride bikes all day, run to 7-11 and buy smokes for the mother, get a bottle of coke, in glass, candy bar, baseball cards. I remember we had the neighborhood perv who loved to hang his junk out in front of people.
Also learned the joys of chiggers – ain’t lived til you had a flaming case of those critters.
I do recall having my first kiss (don’t remember who, yes it was female), smoked the one and only cigarette I have had in my life.
Again, football was king, it was ‘Horns (hook-em) and Cowboys. Part of promotion for the Longhorns was being affiliated with a bread company that made, I’m sure Texas Toast. Thrill of a lifetime when you are a kid is to meet Bevo and get a loaf of bread.
Well, the other thrill was going to the Sher-Den Mall (long gone since around 2000) to see real live players from the Dallas Cowboys. Wish I still had those autographed pictures, I know there was a Chuck Howley in there somewhere, maybe a Walt Garrison. Gotta remember, it was the early 70s, entertainment was where you could find it. Truly was a world where, unless you got “grounded,” you woke up, ate some corn flakes or carnation instant breakfast mixed with half real milk and half powdered, went outside, maybe came back in around lunch time for a bologna sandwich on white bread, then went right back out until it was time for dinner.
Colorful Colorado
Colorado Springs was a new adventure. Actually we lived in Widefield, just outside the Springs. Back then lots of open land. There were actually three separate cities, Pueblo, Colorado Springs, Denver – now it is just one big sprawling mess.
Rednecks vs Hillbillies
Been told that both can be derogatory terms expressing the ignorance and poverty of the folks in parts of the South, Ozarks, Appalachia.
I look at it this way – Dolly Parton, Jed Clampett, Ricky Skaggs – pure hillbilly. Rednecks – Kid Rock – neither from the south or knows anything other than bad beer, music, would have a mullet if he had hair.
poolebarry 
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