Kat, or maybe it was akabukowski, once said to me that everyone thinks their life would make a good book.
She is probably right. What do you think?
Here is your chance.
Let's all tell stories from our experiences as we traveled through time.
Ahh, but there has to be rules. They will be pretty loose, but rules there must be.
1. It can be any experience that you want to tell us about.
2. It can be as short as one line. Or as long as fifty. Anything over thirty will be deleted.
3.You do not have to end the story at fiftyy lines, but you have to quit writing at the end of fiftyy lines. You can not post again until at least one other person has posted something.
This ensures that everyone gets a chance.
4.You can continue on the same subject or jump to a new one.
5. Nothing is required to be in chronological order.
6. Very Graphic Sexual discriptions should be posted in the sex talk group. You can direct us to go there if we want to read about it.
7. No one will be checking the facts
8. Additional rules will be posted and implemented as I see fit.
Step right up and post. who knows, the next knock on your door may be Spielberg asking for the movie rights.
I'll go first.
Guess I’ll start at the age of four. I’m an only child. My parents are from West Virginia. Dad from Rural Doddridge County; Mom from Parkersburg, A manufacturing town on the Ohio River. At the time we were living in Pittsburgh, PA. Near the point where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers join to form the mighty Ohio River.
There is great excitement, anger, and fear in the air. Everyone is glued to the radio. The Japs have just bombed Pearl Harbor. We are going to war!!!!
My Dad was at that time working in one of the many steel mills in Pittsburgh. He was exempted from the draft because if the US was going to fight a war in Asia and Africa and Europe and possibly in the US, someone would have to build the equipment needed. Within a few months he was notified that he was accepted into the US Railway Mail Service which was also considered vital to the war effort and he would be sent to Washington, DC to be trained. My Mother and I moved back to Doddridge County, WV. Then a year later my Dad was transferred to the Mail Terminal in Pittsburgh and Mom and I moved back to live with him. My Mother went to work in one of the shipyards building LSTs. Her younger Brother was now in the Army Paratroopers and one of my Cousins was in Africa driving a tank.
Two more years zipped by and the war was over. My uncle was killed in the Battle of the Bulge. My Cousin spent three months in a German Prison Camp but survived. Everyone still alive came home and the whole country was one big celebration.
Thanks ROBBIE, there would many, many chapters that could
be added to this I know.
At 15 my father moved us 30 minutes west of the city so that he could start his own business.
I had gone to Catholic grade school and one year of Catholic High School.
I entered the tenth grade in a Public High School.
I experienced total culture shock!
I didn’t know how to dress, I didn’t know how to act—when the teacher asked a question, I raised my hand to answer.
When he called on me, I stood to answer.
Muffled laughter from my classmates went unchecked.
I was lost.
I was having a hard time making friends.
I was lonely.
Enter Gym teacher and assistant Field Hockey Coach Miss M.
After gym class one day, she approached me and invited me to play Field Hockey.
I hesitated, but she persisted.
I joined the team; much to my surprise, I had a knack for the game.
The girls that played Field Hockey also played Lacrosse.
In the spring, I played Lacrosse.
I found my niche.
I found friends.
I found happiness that alleviated my sadness of leaving my friends and the city.
Thank you Miss M.
A life spent hearing hundreds of other people (Some related, some not), very few of whom were Happy, or Rich, or Satisfied, or Fulfilled, insist that unless I worshiped the same things that they did, or hated the same things that they did or just generally made myself a carbon copy of them, that I'd never be Happy. Or Rich. Or Satisfied. Or Fulfilled.
Watching other people chase somebody else's dream, or get mad when they chased what they thought was their own dream but it turned out to be just like everybody else's dream, or sat back and expected some benevolent being to just hand their dreams to them because they were just so GOOD and MORAL and PERFECT.
A life spent watching quite a few of those same people do some very ugly things to each other or to anybody that they could get their hands on, because a thing as wild and random as Life hadn't turned out exactly the way that they thought it should.
A life still being spent dealing with the various fallout from those ugly, angry people who decided that I should suffer along with them, just because they'd screwed up their own lives. Because it's so much easier to make somebody else's life worse than it is to make your own life better.
Still hearing those same people insist that they did everything right, and that they should have gotten everything they'd wanted, because they'd always played by THE RULES, so the only possible explanation could be that somebody somewhere cheated them, it must be somebody else's fault, somebody who isn't just like them, and it could be in no way possible that they they themselves had always had a remarkably shallow, poorly thought-out approach to life in general.
A life spent enjoying the rare opportunities to make friends with new acquaintances who are not so foolish about the realities of life, or the foolish people who think they're all experts at it.
A life being spent knowing that I'm barely past the halfway point, and just about anything else could be waiting right around the next corner. A life being spent knowing that I'll meet more of both kinds of people, and I hope I'll be able to sort out the better ones from the less-better ones. But that I'll still be able to learn a lesson or two from the lesser ones.
I think I've got 17 lines left. Those will be for the next book.
I am in the shit shoveling Hall of Fame.
been shoveling shit since I was 10 years old.
I broke and galloped the horse that won the 1985 Belmont Stakes.
The Belmont Stakes is this weekend.
Who do you like???
I set up crab pots this morning in the back yard, I live right on the river.
Do you think I will catch any?
Some day soon I'll gather the facts and fiction, spread 'em all out on a table, sort 'em out and if there's anything there that I deem worthy of sharing, I will do so.