Month: January 2017

Oil Change

Every six to 8 months (give or take three) my dad would beckon me to the drive way.
It was time to change the oil on the old Ford Econoline Van. He was proud to have me on the ground worming my way into position and using man tools to coax bolts aside while grease caked my hands. His happiness was my dread in that I loathed having to grab an old piece of cardboard, placing it on the ground where the dust and dirt would eventually invade my nostrils.
Then there was the contortions my hands had to make in order to find the position which would finally yield torque on the bolts. The heat in East LA was ever present and I could feel how it made me sweat about my eyes. Sometimes, a mixture of Aqua Net & sweat would enter my eye sockets and then they would sting.
Finally there were his barks and orders… always complaining about my overall bad attitude. Then finally I’d release the bolt and black fluid would pour out for a few minutes onto a tray. While that happened I could just lie in my place and close my eyes thinking of the other places I’d rather be. Soon thereafter the job was done and I had to tend to other chores.

Thank goodness I wouldn’t be back under that car for 6 to 8 months (give or take three).

Malice and Indifference and Cruelty

Because of my station in life I can sometimes forget about the malice, indifference and cruelty that rest in the hearts of people. Lately, my children ask me questions stemming from their history lessons. I’m obliged to dialog with them about mankind’s lesser moments. 
They sometimes ask if things are better now. 
As is my policy…I do not lie to my children.

Inherit the Wind

While in a Prosecutorial state I stood among my peers and began to lay out my case. My voice cracked at first but one comforting look from Mr Bennett helped me get into my groove. In minutes I had mustered up my inner William Jennings Bryan and brought my speech to a frothy frenzy. I reveled at the crowd’s reaction when I sassed my opponent or professed & pontificated poignant points to ponder . Later the librarian who hosted our AP Politics class would tell me she had seldom seen such passion in all her years at James A Garfield High. 
I suppose that’s the moment when I fell in love with the sound of my own voice. Sorry y’all!

The Known Unknowns

I did not know he didn’t know but because he was my father I always believed him. 
Like the time he told me that the Titanic was SO big that you could start walking at one end in the morning and you would not reach the other end until late evening. The assertion that dinosaurs still lived in parts of Mexico and the government was hiding them. His knowledge that American women were trouble. Or that the Cowboys were and would forever be America’s greatest football team. He never meant any harm but it was a little disconcerting when I started learning truths. 
Now I wonder…what will the kids come to learn was a misconception on my part? Whatever it is I hope it endears me to them just a wee bit more.

Seconds from Disaster

I am not too familiar with the Buena Vista off ramp which Siri asked me to take. At 6:50ish in the morning, with the rain falling briskly and a husky white Tundra in my right side mirror I stepped on the pedal once the phone told me I had about half a mile to get off. When I thought I had enough room to merge onto the lane my hands began to gently turn the wheel and my little car’s momentum began to shift. 
Then without warning we all felt the hard punch as the front wheels slammed into a pocket of water I had not seen. Next, I felt through my feet how the right front tire lost connection to the ground which set us careening into space and a wall of unaware k-rails on the side of the car where my daughter and wife rested. Some instinct made my forearms twitch and I moved my wheel attempting to correct course. The car had ideas of its own though and our back end started to swing left onto the lane I had just tried to leave. Right before I took my foot off the break and I relaxed my grip off the wheel I did a quick glance at my rear view mirror. For a long fraction of a second I spotted my son’s frightened face and I noted his cry. The car slowed some, steadied course and I was finally able to regain control. 
Finally resettled I turned on my blinker and sheepishly took the off ramp, turned on the avenue and headed to the airport where my wife needed to be dropped off for an early morning flight. 
My heart is still feeling the effect of those few seconds of freeway action.

Hen Delivered

My hens show me something new everyday. My dogs teach me stuff all the time. My kids hand me lesson constantly. My wife course corrects me full time. My friends make me wonder quite often. The interwebs gives me info I take in with a grain-of-salt. 
You know…for a bloke that has been out of school for a long time I haven’t had a day when something fresh makes it into my grey matter.

A Failed State

Sometimes when I think about my posts I wonder what my children may come to think of them. I hope they’ll smile, a few may make them think but I have a feeling they’ll just roll their eyes a lot. Either way my hope is that they’ll will come to concur with my descriptions of love for them, my wife, our friends, the house, ye olde neighbourhood, the mutts and chickens. 
I will consider it a failed life if the person delineated on the screen is far far different from the man who was their real life dad.

Lord of the Flies

Lost in a sea of books I tried my very best to guide my boy about the aisles of this massive story. We have such different ideas of what is a worthwhile read and for a moment I thought we reached an impasse. But then I had him read the back cover of the Lord of the Flies and when he was done he beamed with excitement. 
Good choice my boy…good choice.