One of the problems with growing up early, is the lack of a solid, fantasy filled childhood. Growing up In the 70's and early 80's was tough for my parents. They didn't expect my arrival and there was a serious recession going on, but nothing like what's going on now. As such, I had to work the farm, be a plumbers assistant, a surveyor and heavy laborer all before I had hair on my nuts.
I witnessed violence(s), murder (almost got caught up in the mob afterward), unexplained mysteries and emotional strife of every color of the rainbow, all before I was old enough to drive. After that there were brushes with all levels of law enforcement, but luckily, it was just for practicing my freedom, and not being a douche. I noticed as time went on, the America I grew up with had dissolved into a police state where your ideas could be charged with a crime (along with the body as well). Had I known the people of this country would have been fooled into such terrible circumstances, I would have left... but the 1980's under Ronald Reagan, were a time of pride and confidence and that kept me 'dreaming'. And pride does proceed great falls. As Ben Franklin once said, those who want security at the expense of freedom, deserve neither.
My mother could see the writing on the wall, even not knowing all the sordid details of our country's betrayal. Even she was conned into believing in Obama, but... She was a staunch Republican, listened to Rush on the radio and voted in every election (didn't help - people choose their parties like tattoos in most parts of the country). But before she died in the hospital, for months on end, she had only crappy TV... and the 'plastic educator' convinced her Obama would be different, like JFK was in her prime. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, though, at least JFK died while trying to defeat the private bankers in charge of the Federal Reserve - that much is very clear to me.
Like with all living things, life goes on, despite whatever happens to it. The scars of the past are fading on me now, as I approach 40 years of decreptitude. No one can have their childhood back - we remake ourselves as times goes on. All ya can do is cherish the moments, for they will never come again. No need to dwell on the wrongs you've committed - if it was really that bad, consider the lesson learned.
My BBS sig says, "No matter where you go, there you are", because, no matter how far you travel, you still got the same baggage - it's up to you to figure out how to tune yourself into being a feeling person.... "source programmable guidance" if you will.
My mom had excellent taste in moves and music for her age, and a combination of wit and humor I've rarely seen in others. Recently, while rewatching old TV shows on torrents, I came across something I got my mom to watch, and she got a real kick out it. Making and giving happiness to others is just as precious as life itself. Just don't forget to get a little for yourself.
sandy25198
let me be the first to say hello to this long and thoughtful post
VicariousE (Updated )
The post sez hello back... and thanks for reading it. I was really tired, muscles were twitching badly and I was mitigating nicotine withdrawal when I wrote it. But after seeing that one DS9 episode on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and remember watching a bit of it with my mom, I figured I needed to vomit up a situation report of sorts.
Get any food today? You watch the video... Nick might like it - it kinda sounds like the Fallout 3 soundtrack.
I got some unpleasant phone calls to make then I'm gonna get a nap in... it's wet out and Pop went 2 hours South of here for a back adjustment.. then it's 2 hours back and on dubious tires :|
K hon, I'll see ya this evening :3 (stupid soggy weather permitting :<)