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EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For
Intelligent Life (EXODUS)
My Friends Think I Exaggerated About My Dad
One night Brother James, my friend Johnny Q. and
I were sitting about at James’ place, a townhouse he rented.
Downstairs looked like a showplace. It was hard to believe the
once messy ‘Pigpen’ was now a regular Felix Unger. Every thing
was fancy and clean beyond compare.
He had on
occasion, made noises when he came over my place, giving my
place the white glove treatment and other such shit. This
aggravated me, but other than his showboating, I was pleased to
see that he did indeed take after our Father in cleanliness.
Johnny Q. was
using James downstairs bathroom, and I had the overpowering urge
to empty my bladder at that instant. I decided to run upstairs
to use the bathroom I knew was there, (Since he told me). As I
went for the stair, my Brother screams out, “No, you can’t go up
there!”, and he tackles me on the stairs.
Normally I would have
respected my Brother’s wishes since it was his place. But, since
my need to empty my bladder was urgent, I insisted on moving
forward.
James used
every ounce of strength and his famous wiliness to keep me back.
Our struggle was just shy of a fight. I finally won out and made
it to the top landing. Once there, it was apparent as to why he
had fought so hard. The downstairs looked as if it was cared for
by Felix Unger. But the upstairs looked like it was left in the
care of Oscar Madison. It looked like his old bedroom. “Oh
well, he was half way there” I thought.
I went over to
visit James to tell him that Johnny Q. and I found out from our
Godfather that our Dad was back in town. He wanted us to go
visit him. He had done his best not to dwell on the fact that
our Dad had abandon him, or that our Stepmother had
pistol-whipped him.
We both
wondered how our Dad was doing and we both hoped that he had
changed and perhaps now that we were all grown and somewhat
self-reliant and that our parents divorce had been over a decade
old he would finally be the father we had always fantasized
about.
I thought,
“Wouldn’t be great if he became more like Aberant’s Dad or maybe
like my Uncle Pip.”
We went to our
Dad’s place. To say he was shocked to see the both of us would
be an understatement.
My Dad and
Stepmother had both been drinking and so had James and John;
however, it looked like they got quite a head start. My Dad was
in his element, holding court and catching up with us.
He embraced me,
“Look at you with all of those muscles. Shit, if I had muscles
like that I would rule the world.”
He offers all
of us a drink.
“What can I get
you, beer, wine, a mixed drink?
James and
Johnny Q each accept a beer.
I declined
since I had been of a several month health kick and cleanse.
“Yeah, of
course you don’t want a drink… you get high on life”, he said
with sarcasm and thinly veiled contempt.
I looked over
at Johnny Q and James and they appear shocked and embarrassed
for both my Father and me.
The message
from my Father was clear. Geeks and nerds get high on life –
real men and the movers and shakers of the world indulge in
vices. (Sadly my Brother James slavishly copied my Father’s
philosophy).
Then he looked
at me with an odd light in his eyes, “You may have muscles, and
you may be my son, but if you ever gave me shit… I would blow
your fucking head off!” He spun around and looked maniacally at
my friend Johnny Q. and said to me, “I got a fucking pistol in
my bedroom, and if you fucked with me… as much as I love you… I
would not hesitate to put a bullet in your head!”
I felt a
mixture of fear and hurt. I also felt embarrassment for both of
us. I had wished he had never said those things, especially in
front of James and Johnny. I could not help but wonder if the
guy he was bragging about was the same one he had pulled on my
Mother twelve years prior and threatened to kill her if she
refused to stay away from his side of the family. No doubt it
was the same gun that his second wife Heloise pulled on my
Brother James, the instrument she used to pistol-whipped him.
Then my Dad
looks at James, “Well hell, look at you. You have become a man.
He grabbed my
Brother’s muscular hands, “Hey look at your hands, they are
hands that know work. I like those hands.”
Despite the
past betrayals and neglect, or perhaps because of them, James
could not help but blush and glow, basking in the warmth of
Dad’s stroking.
My Dad looks at
me, a look of alcohol induced lunacy still on his face, “Hey Laz,
you may be the man with the muscles, but don’t ever fuck with
James. He’s the man. You may have the muscles, but James is the
man, he’s a bad ass. He takes after me. Don’t fuck with him,
he’ll fuck you up.”
My friend
Johnny Q., James and I were all feeling uncomfortable with how
Dad was trying compare us, to push us into a sort of
competition.
Suddenly my Dad
asks where we are working.
“You know Laz,
I could give you anything!”
“I could give
you money or give you anything you want!”
I look over at
Johnny Q. and he is looking uncertain and hopeful, like my Dad
is going to announce that he has realized his error in judgment
as a parent. He seemed that he was ready to admit that he was
sorry for not supporting Lynn through college or not taking more
of a hand in our upbringing and health and welfare.
He acted as if
he was on the verge of telling us that he and my Grandfather had
socked away some cash for years in a college of trust fund.
James and
Johnny Q. looked hopeful.
History taught
me that you believe people by the fruit of their past… still I
was hopeful that our Dad was going to tell us that he was in our
court from there on out.
He rants some
more, “I could give you everything! I could! I would! I got the
money!
But I won’t! It just
wouldn’t be right!”
I looked at my
Dad and said, “I’m not asking you to give me anything.”
He rants again,
“I could do it! But it’s not right… so I won’t!”
Johnny and
James seem to deflate and they are confused by my Dad’s jumbled
incongruent rant.
There is a
moment of uncomfortable silence as we all stare at my Dad in
disbelief… and we waited with an almost morbid anticipation of
what he would do or say next.
Finally my Dad
looks at James, and me “So I see that you both still have your
hair. You don’t seem to take after your Grandfather.”
Glad to be away
from the I could, would and should but I won’t rant, I
said, “Well, I’m starting to lose a little of mine.”
My Dad looks
concerned, sort of like it would be a shameful tragedy if either
of his sons lost their hair. This would have been a poor
reflection on his DNA. What would his friends think?
“You know, I
was starting to lose my hair, until I quit drinking”, my Dad
volunteers.
“My Stepmother
shrills a shrewish note, “Aw fuck! Ya quit losing your hair when
you quit fucking!”
The air became
think with impending violence. Johnny Q. quickly mentioned that
we had to get going.
My Dad shakes
Johnny’s hand as he was eyeing his enormous chest and arms. “It
was nice to meet you John.” My Dad looked like he was ready to
attack John, but was holding back due to social protocols.
When the three of us
left, John breathed a sigh of relief.
“Man Vinny, you
and James have always told me about your Dad, but up until
tonight I thought you and James were exaggerating about him.
He let out
another stress relieving sigh. “If anything, I think you and
James have been downplaying about your Dad. Your Dad is intense!
I thought he was on the verge of attacking me several times. He
kept giving me the hairy eye.
“Ahh, I
thought, it was good to get other people’s perspective on my
family, especially my Dad.
As we drove
away, I made a mental inventory of what sort of mentoring James,
Johnny and I had gotten out of our visit with my Dad that night.
Invariably,
parents that don’t see their kids for great lengths of time are
usually eager to impart gifts, or important information –
perhaps mentoring or even forgiveness and promises of familial
support.
What keynote
points did my father decide to share with us in a similar
situation?
They were, “If
I had muscles like you, I’d rule the world.”
“I love you, but if
you ever fuck with me, I’ll blow fucking your head off!”
“Don’t fuck with
James, he is the man… he’ll fuck you up. He takes after me.”
“I could give
you everything. I have the money. I could, I should, I would,
but I won’t it wouldn’t be right.”
“Thank God you
don’t take after your Grandfather, you still have your hair.”
It was apparent
that my Dad had not changed.
To say that as
we drove away that I was disappointed and sad is an
understatement.
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(GENESIS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(REVELATIONS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(JUDGMENT DAY)
THE MARINES: GOD'S CHOSEN
WARRIORS
VINCE'S GYM
ADVENTURES IN MARINE BIOLOGY
CONVERSATIONS WITH NEO
NEO TEACHES ME THE ART OF WAR
& PEACE;
His Version of The Matrix
MEMORIES OF MY FATHERS
ZEN & THE ART OF RESISTANCE
TRAINING:
A Yogic & Scientific Approach To Weight
Lifting
ZEN & THE BIOLOGY OF
TRANSCENDENCE:
The First Matrix of Psychic
Phenomena
ZEN & THE ART OF KINESIOLOGY:
The Yogic & Scientific
Approach To Movement
ZEN & YOUR ENERGY SYSTEMS
ZEN & VARIOUS ASPECTS OF
TRAINING
HOMEPAGE TO MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(EXODUS)
HOMEPAGE |
