I’ve had nothing but killer sinus pain coupled with post nasal drip.
So while I’ve been surrounded by children who have done nothing but drive me crazy, I feel like crap on top of it.
I did get some really good presents however. I got a clip that attaches to my handgun that lets you carry without a holster, and a Wyze Cam Pan. I’ve found recently that I need to keep a better eye on my home when I’m not around. I also got some much appreciated things to help me with the Camaro.
So, where ever you are, no matter what holiday you participate in – I hope you got to spend time with your loved ones. Appreciate the time you have with them, because tomorrow is never guaranteed.
For some reason, I’m feeling all nostalgic today. Reading a post on reddit reminded me of the second car I totaled. Today I will write about my first. You never forget your first.
I have to setup the scene of how we ended up with my first car however, as that is a story in itself.
It’s summer 1995. We (my mother, stepfather and I) had just moved to Main Street in Ellettsville, IN from our home on the south side of Bloomington. Rent was $150 less a month there, the area had less questionable activities happening around us. My stepfather wanted to take a vacation to the Smoky Mountains, so we did. It was a good vacation. It was the only “family” vacation I really remember.
My mom and I.My now ex-stepfather and I. I’ve only randomly ran into him twice since he split with my mom.Me on my new bike at our campsite. I still have that bike, and it’s still in like new shape.
It was a good vacation, and we all had a good time. There are memories from that trip that I’ll hold with me the rest of my life. What happened when we arrived home however, was frightening but gave me another memory. One that I’m writing about right now.
Where we had moved to was right behind Jack’s Defeat Creek, a defining feature of the town. While we were gone there was a massive storm. The creek swelled to levels I didn’t see until I was in my mid 20’s. We lived in a duplex, our neighbors car had been flooded to the roof line. The water didn’t recede for 2 days. He had changed the fluids and done what he could to dry it out, but the insurance company totaled it out. He offered it to us, since I was getting close to the age to legally drive. The price? $383. My stepfather bought it without hesitation.
The car was to serve as a backup vehicle for him and my mother until I got my drivers license, then it would be my car. But I had to work for that car, it wasn’t handed to me. It was my job to turn this flooded out car into a running, fully operational vehicle that anyone would be proud of, and I was totally up to the task. So I got to work.
The electronics were ruined in it due to the water. All of the interior soft components were also water logged. The first step was to remove the entire interior. On good days, I would take all of the items outside to bake in the sun. This car had an electronic dash, something many newer vehicles have but at the time this car was built it was fancy and special. I was able to get it dried out and work again, but the radio was a goner. This radio was interesting however. Due to the design of the dash, it was in two pieces. There was a control section and a tuner section. After scouring the local junkyards, I was able to find one and it worked!
Next up was the mechanical. The 2.5L “Iron Duke” engine in it was very sloppy. There was oil and coolant leaks all over. Once I got those under control, I replaced almost every electronic component under the hood. I then changed the brakes, wheel bearings and shocks.
By this time, all of the soft interior components in the car had dried out. I cleaned them profusely and reinstalled them. The car was for all purposes, done. I still didn’t have a license however, bummer.
Summer turned into fall, and fall turned into winter, then winter turned into spring. My home life had changed significantly. The parents of the household were having arguments and serious conversations revolving me and my father. My stepfather at one point said “Maybe we should stop letting Lee see his dad.” That was all I needed to hear. I thought for the first time in my life, my mother had built something not based on alcohol and drugs but on a family. I was only living with my mother because my stepmother “said I couldn’t live there anymore” according to my father.
I would be leaving, the only question was how, when and where. By this time I spent a lot of time on the internet. I spoke to a lot of people, primarily in the Oklahoma City, OK area. I had been talking to a couple of girls around my age that lived in Valparaiso, IN and Round Rock, TX however.
I eventually made a plan. I was to go see and possibly live with this girl in Round Rock, TX. I had never even been to Texas before. Bye bye Indiana, you’ve left me nothing but trauma and abuse. One night, I packed a large duffel bag with clothes and things I would need. I waited until 4 or 5 in the morning, and army crawled into my mom & stepfathers bedroom and took all of her money and the keys to the car. She had just gotten paid, so it was around $400. I pushed the car out of the driveway (it’s a small car) and down the street a ways before I started it. And I was gone.
My first stop was at the Pilot truck stop in Terre Haute, IN. It was my “last chance Texaco” opportunity to turn around and be able to make it seem like nothing happened. I filled up the gas tank, and headed down I-70.
I’ve traveled to Oklahoma since I was a baby. I know the route to many places by heart. GPS wasn’t available to citizens yet, but I did have a map in the car. Due to the lack of sleep, and adrenaline pumping through my veins, memories of much of the trip were not saved in the hard drive in my head. Not until I made it to Topeka, KS. I had made a mistake, that I do remember, and I decided to just keep going.
By this time, I had been driving for a long time and needed a break, some rest. I had talked with someone in Topeka over the internet, and she gave me her number. I stopped at a mall and called her, she gave me her address and I was on my way. I was a teenager at the time, so nefarious things were obviously on my mind – but what I really needed was rest. I arrived, and didn’t know how to act or react. Their home was filled with clutter and trash, literally. There were trash bags everywhere! I gave an excuse that I had to put some transmission fluid in my car and that I’d be back, never to return.
That’s when I got my map out, and I started looking. I want to go somewhere to rest. I can’t rent a hotel room, and I can’t get comfortable enough in the car really. What do I do? Maybe I can drive to my aunt Beth’s house? She my youngest aunt, and has always been a little on the wild side. Maybe she’ll give me a place to stay for the night while I’m on my way? So I found US 75. Wow, pure heaven that road is. I need to take it again sometime. It’s like route 66. It lead me to Tulsa, which led me to my aunts apartment, in the tiny town of Westville, OK.
When I got to Westville, I stopped at a gas station and paged my best friend, with the phone number to the pay phone I was at. He never called back, so I proceeded to my aunts place.
I got there, but she wasn’t home. I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t really know where my other two aunts lived at the time. My grandfather was in the area, but I didn’t know where he lived either. So I left a note on her door and sat in the parking lot, resting. After a while, she got home. I watched her read the note I left and go inside.
After a few minutes, I decided to knock on the door. Why was I so nervous? This is my aunt, a person who loves me. But I was rattled to my core. Did I make a wrong decision? She was on the phone with my dad. Gah, she ratted me out! My plan is ruined. He wanted to get me on a Greyhound and get me back to Indiana, and worry about the car later.
So she, I and her infant son Alex spent the evening catching up and I finally got some rest that I needed so badly. That was until the police department came knocking at her door in the middle of the night. She answered the door, and they asked for me. She woke me and I went to the door. In my mind, I figured the jig was up. They were going to arrest me. What they did still makes me wonder. They just asked for the keys and left when I gave them to them. It was years later when I found out what happened afterwards.
The rest of my time in Oklahoma during that occasion is something I would do again in a heartbeat however. I won’t go into detail about it in this post though.
My mom and stepfather apparently drove out and got the car while I was there, and left me. My mom then drove out again and got me. How she knew where my grandfather was living surprised me however. This was the straw that broke the camels back with the marriage of my mom and second stepfather. Shortly after my return, he moved out.
I finally get my drivers license, and I’m finally able to legally drive! Yes, we still have this car I stole and drove cross country without a license – and it’s MINE. I’m so excited.
Three days after receiving my drivers license. My best good friend Craig and I decide to go fishing at what’s called the Snake Pit, it’s the day after Thanksgiving. Being freshly licensed teenage males, we are driving aggressively and generally doing things we shouldn’t. That’s when I made a mistake, one I’ll never forget.
The road to the Snake Pit is gravel. It leads to a cove of the largest lake in Indiana, Lake Monroe. The road forks in one spot, with the left fork going in an upward direction. The right fork goes downwards towards the lake. Memories become hazy, but I swear the throttle became stuck. I was losing control and was panicking. I did my best to steer towards the left fork in the road, but the car went in the middle and flipped. In an unlikely turn of events I was actually wearing my seat belt that day, something I didn’t do back then.
I was hanging inside the car. My seat belt wouldn’t unbuckle. I had to get my pocket knife out and cut the seat belt to get out. It broke while doing so, swinging around and cutting my hand. I still carry a pocketknife to this day, just in case something like this happens again.
If you notice, I haven’t said much to describe the car up until now. This car was and is still a very rare car. Not an expensive or exotic one, just rare. It was the cousin of the Pontiac Grand Am. A 1987 Buick Somerset GS, Grey with a Grey vinyl top. Here are the only images I have of it. Taken from the lot it was towed to.
The shadow is highly representative of how my soul felt at the time.
Not all memories fade. Price does not equate happiness. The smallest things can fill the largest part of your heart. My aunts and I still joke about this, and they know I’ll forever trust them with my heart.
I’ve went all Ebeneezer Scrooge this year for some reason. I don’t know why, and I definitely do not like or enjoy it.
I’ve had a lot of things dumped on me at the last minute at work, with a demanded completion date of by the end of the year.
My girlfriend, and her children picked up some sort of sickness. So I did what I do in these situations, stay away. I’ve been at home, by myself all week.
I have a ton of things to do here, but no will to do them. I need to wrap Christmas presents, disassemble that darned TV antenna to return to Amazon, and work on the Camaro.
I’m stressed, the clock is ticking on Christmas, and I seem to be getting more depressed by the day.
I thought this was supposed to be “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” For me, it has been the darkest time of the year for 5 years solid now.
Before posting this, I decided to do something. Just writing this motivated me. So I attempted to install the new speakers in the Camaro. The drivers side went well. Then I attempted to install the passengers side. Everything went well until I tried to test them, they didn’t work. While trying to diagnose the issue, the speaker fell apart. Sigh. I’m going to bed, maybe I can forget this day.
That’s how long my father has been deceased. I seem to relive that morning mentally and emotionally, every year. I had just started my first full time position in almost a decade and was in training when I got the series of calls.
My dad was my hero and champion in life. Not a hero as in “I wanted to be like him” but my hero in that he stood for the same things I stood for, and as an adult, he could do them! When I was with him, I knew anything was possible.
Now I’m the adult, but nothing feels possible anymore.
It’s been four years since my father passed into the afterlife. It’s almost hard to believe when I think about it. Time stood still for me for quite some time after that tragic event in my life story. He was the man I admired, he was the man who conquered all. Most importantly, he was the man I wanted to be when I grew up. With him gone, I didn’t have that example to turn to. I didn’t have that voice telling me to “quit getting the cart before the horse, son.” It rattled me to my core.
I had to start over in life, figuratively speaking. Financially and career wise my life is in the best place it has ever been. But emotionally? It’s a tough tale. That’s where I’m still picking up the pieces.
I try to look at when my grandfather passed, and how my father coped as a guidebook. My dad, did everything he could – including trying to get a 21 gun salute for him. Emotionally, that’s where my dad seemed to be a black hole however. He wasn’t very talkative about how he felt about the situation surrounding my grandfathers death. I know he wasn’t happy with the “family” decisions that basically led to his untimely passing, but that was all I got out of him. When it came time to write dad’s obituary, guess what I copied? My grandfathers. Dad had written it.
His urge to make the trip to Oklahoma lessened after that. He became more about life here, his granddaughters and his First Baptist family. He became the de facto caretaker of his mother, my grandma. His love for me? It never faltered. It never failed. It only blossomed over the years.
So why do I feel stuck in an emotional labyrinth? Why?
Each and every day I feel tormented. Not by the loss of patriarch of my family, but by the feelings of helplessness with my daughters. I don’t feel like I give them enough of me, enough time to enjoy things with their dad, or enough adventures with the man they look up to.
Each and every day I fight it. I try to do something, reach out. SOMETHING. But it never feeds the torment, it only seems to expand it.
I have been embraced by a wonderful, yet crazy family. One that sees me for who I am, and doesn’t give me too hard of a time about it. It helps, but only takes me so far. My experience with the “blended family” situation has not been the most idealistic. I hear this is a common situation. I often feel much more at ease when I am solitary. I think I pushed the healing of my losses, and still need that time.
In the end, I have a roughly set plan for how I want my life to be from here on out. The loss of my marriage and the loss of my father taught me this. If it isn’t going how I want it, I will make it that way, no matter what the costs or consequences are. The torch has been passed, not in a way I wanted it to. It is now up to me on how to handle and direct this sect of the family to proceed. I just have to pull myself up by my boot straps and take care of what needs done.
That is what I’m having trouble with. I’ve never been one to proclaim what I want, or expect anything. It’s part of that humble nature.
Many don’t understand my taste in music, and never will. I’m fine with that.
Friday night, Lyndsey and I saw the Smashing Pumpkins. A group that gained notoriety in my pre-teen days. It wasn’t until my later teens that I became curious, and later, enthralled. Primarily due to a couple of girls I had an interest in singing the lyrics while on the bus to high school.
With songs ranging from “Today” that is sweet sounding and generally a happy tune, to “Bullet with Butterfly Wings” which explains the human rat race in a post apocalyptic world, their lyrics run the spectrum. Their gritty guitars and electro synth stylings are quite literally music to my ears.
I was nervous about this concert, as Lyndsey has some serious mobility issues. Our seats were right off the floor – but I knew she would have to do a tremendous amount of walking. It wasn’t too bad on her, she was a trooper. Due to her issues, the ushers advised us to take a different exit. Instead of going out where everyone else does. We got a little bit of a backstage tour. One that was closely guarded so we had no opportunity or way to go venturing.
I was disappointed that the group isn’t whole, as they have continued without their original bassist, but sometimes that’s the way life goes. Billy Corgan has received a lot of flak over his political views, which I honestly do not care about. He was a professional and didn’t use his band to continue those views while on stage.
It was an enjoyable evening on this year, the year of concerts for me. So far there have been three. One of which, the Foo Fighters, I was unable to attend. I have one more left. Alabama with Travis Tritt. Two acts I never thought I’d be able to see.
1968. It was a big year in the United States. I only know of it from second and third hand accounts, due to being born in 1980. Little did I know however, how important the events of that year and the sixties in general were to my fathers worldview.
A few months ago, the newspaper from the town my father grew up in said they were looking for him or his ancestors. He had placed something in a time capsule that would be opened. How exciting! Why did he never tell me of this thing?
That day was the start of 3rd grade for my youngest daughter. As soon as I got her contact information, I emailed her explaining the importance of this event to our family and that I would be taking her from school early to attend. My oldest daughter is out of school, but working. She got permission to leave work early to attend as well. I wanted them to be present.
The small meeting room, where the time capsule would be opened was over crowded. The three of us crawled onto the floor and kneeled on the floor between aisles to see it be opened. The event was also live streamed on Facebook.
The tears started flowing as soon as dad’s envelope was called out, with my youngest daughter handing the envelope to my oldest. We left the room to get some space. We were then video taped as I read the letter. I tried but couldn’t keep composure of the words a sixteen year old version of my father wrote.
The contents of the envelope were a typed letter, two newspaper clippings and a post card. I came to tears when I saw the post card. Whenever I would travel anywhere – he would say the phrase “send me a postcard.” Which I did, often.
The newspaper clippings were from both of the assassinated Kennedy brothers, lying in state. His letter primarily spoke of the Kennedy’s. I’m attaching a scan of that letter for the world to see. My daughters and I are continuing this trend, and will be adding something to a new time capsule to be opened in 2068. We will see if I make it. Dad’s letter closes with “see you in 2018.” It broke my heart, and brought my oldest daughter to tears, as he didn’t get to see us.
The loss of him from our lives still breaks our hearts, and forever will.
This summer has been a hard one on me, for a multitude of reasons. Reasons I will outline below.
Work
There have been some changes to my work environment. The director that hired me had to step down and officially become an emeritus due to policies I don’t exactly understand. The new “interim” director isn’t exactly as social or open, and it has the staff and faculty mighty concerned. For instance, he has requested several things that I should have been in the loop on, but I’ve found out third hand about them. We will carry on, but it’s a time of a lot of unknowns. I’m not a fan of unknown.
Fortunately I work for a different department technically, so he does not have the capability to fire me, or even discipline me. But these are my people, and I will stick up for them with everything of my being. It’s who I am professionally.
Vacation
The girlfriend had planned a vacation for all of us, and I left the details up to her this time. It seemed like a fun time, but quickly turned into a nightmare. We went to Williamsburg, KY. They have a waterpark there. What caught my eye was that the fee to get in was only $2 more than it was to get into the local city pool. Attached to the waterpark is a campground. We were all going to camp there for three days, go to the waterpark and try to visit any other sights in the area that weren’t too far away.
When originally planning and booking the site, the weather was supposed to be comfortable, it turned out to be the opposite. We had absolutely 0 shade at our camp site. The tent camp sites were relegated to an area around the “backwash” of the waterpark. It seemed very 3rd class.
Our Campsite
After a day at the waterpark, I got the worst sunburn I’ve ever had in my life. With the combination of the heat and humidity, it felt like it was at least 110 degrees. I was done. My anger and frustrations at this situation couldn’t take anymore.
So I sat in my vehicle with the air conditioning on most of the day. Later, I took a couple of the kids with me, and we drove to wherever. Eventually making it to Chatanooga, TN and turning back around. Me and her got into a fight. For some reason she thought I was going to leave her and her kids there, five hours away from home without a way back home. Did I think about it? Yes. But I could never do something like that.
We ended up staying for the Independence Day fireworks and leaving immediately afterwards. I told her things would be different after this. I needed peace, I require peace.
The next weekend, I took my daughter on a trip she deserved. It was short but sweet. We went to Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace, then went over to The Biltmore Estate. Something her mom and I did 13 years prior, we even stayed in the same hotel.
Lincoln’s Birthplace
Biltmore
The Bathroom
We get home, and my main bathtub faucet wouldn’t stop dripping. This remodel that I had been putting off for 12 years decided for me that it must be done now.
I have 3 bathrooms in my house, and this one has for the most part remained untouched since I purchased my home in 2006. I knew it would need a complete gut, and I wasn’t prepared for the expense. There was mold that would keep coming back. This told me that it was in the wall.
So, after taking essentially two vacations – I am now knee deep in a bathroom renovation.
I have removed the tub surround, purchased a new one (that was just delivered to the store today), had my tub refinished and purchased a new tub faucet.
Now it’s just a matter of installation, and that disaster will be over with partially. Once I get some of these debts paid off, I’m going to complete the rest of the renovation.
As I said in my previous post, I started reaching out to old classmates of mine for IRL social needs. I met one of my old classmates at a BBQ joint for lunch one day. Instantly something just felt different about her.
We never really knew each other while in school. She was in a polar opposite world than I was. I was what was commonly referred to as a “hick” in my outward appearance. She on the other hand was all heavy metal, and even had a mohawk in high school.
But on the inside, wow. I felt drawn to her. I didn’t know why, and I still don’t fully.
She invited me to go to the drive-in with her and her kids. Something my ex-wife hated, another thing of life that I genuinely missed. So I went, it was a no brainer. We went to the drive-in several times together.
We talked non stop, about everything and anything. We quickly became close. She was my best friend, my confidant, the person I ran to with new and/or exciting information.
When talking with other friends of the female persuasion, they told me that some of the things we discussed weren’t things that girls normally talk to “friends” about. My mind wondered and stewed on that heavily. Do I make a move? Do I ruin this good thing I have going on in life? I’ve had so much bad stuff happen, my fragile soul just can’t take rejection right now.
So one night, after bringing her and her kids back from the drive-in, I made a move and kissed her. Nothing more, nothing less. I showed where my mind and my heart was to her. I was going to leave it up to her on where it went from there. I would be okay with any direction it went.
After a day of biting my nails until they bled, she was receptive but anxious at the same time. Life hadn’t been so good to her, with health, vocation or relationships. She was still technically married to her husband but had long since been separated and apart from him. He had a girlfriend, and she had went through several boyfriends since they parted ways. She too was done with the opposite sex.
We just sort of fell into this whirlwind romance and lived by our hearts.
My life post divorce was that I didn’t have one. For a good while, that didn’t bother me at all. I was always doing this or going here, and I was tired of that.
I worked my job, I binge watched TV shows I had never been able to see before and for the most part I was happy. But how much happiness does that sort of life lead? I’m somewhat of a social creature, for the most part the internet helped fill that void. I was lonely though. I needed touch, I needed affection, I needed intimate physical contact.
So I did what most people do these days, I put ads on dating websites/apps. What a disaster that was. It instantly showed me what our society had turned to, and I didn’t like it. I dated a lady who lived 50 miles away for a few months. We had some good times, but in the end, she turned out to be completely not trusting and wanted to control how I operated my life, and my actions. That’s when I said goodbye to that world for good.
So, I had to formulate a new plan. I was done with the thought of dating. That’s when my next step came to be. I was the guy in school who everyone knew. I was social enough to be noticed. Not everybody knew me, I only had 2 close friends ever. But, the thought of reaching out to those people I could find and catching up with them, to see how life has treated them seemed really appealing to me.
So I started reaching out. I haven’t had that much luck, but it’s a goal. It’s something that keeps my social needs met.
One of those classmates quickly turned into a relationship.
I had to start over in life, figuratively speaking. Financially and career wise my life is in the best place it has ever been. But emotionally? It’s a tough tale. That’s where I’m still picking up the pieces.
His love for me? It never faltered. It never failed. It only blossomed over the years.
The torch has been passed, not in a way I wanted it to. It is now up to me on how to handle and direct this sect of the family to proceed. I just have to pull myself up by my boot straps and take care of what needs done.
