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.
hahaha.... I certainly never thought of myself as such, caseyjo! I am charmed, though, that's for sure. And so fortunate, despite losses & hardships.
(did you mean me?)
Ya...I loved your story...A good ending..or shall we call it a beginning?
I'm not purposefully avoiding following the rules. That would be anti-social.
Instead, I've purposefully avoided reading the rules, and therefore I am oblivious to whether this posting follows the rules or violates any or all of them.
And that's pretty much the story of my life up until this moment.
Also, when I was in high school I dated a girl who was in a musical and when I went to the musical to see her perform, I ran into an old grade-school chum who was at Princeton and was dating Brook Shields off and on. A few years later, Brook ended up marrying Andre Agassi, but it didn't last and then he married Steffi Graff, who I later met when she visited the college at which I was teaching in an attempt to coax more money out of a particularly rich alum who wanted to play a fun match against her. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to her, but through one of her friends I got to meet a bunch of the women who came to play at the US Open later that year. Somewhere I have a bunch of tennis balls signed by the best players in the world. But I've met none of the men, and not Andre. So my life is still empty and meaningless.
In contrast, my wife has meet several top male tennis players. Or at least that's what she says.
Sorry....that post did not land where it was supposed to.
*sometimes wonder why I bother...*
Lessons Our Parents Teach Us.
I only remember two times that I received praise from my Dad. He too was an only child and from stories I have heard was rather spoiled. But he did teach me a number of valuable lessons. Most were hard lessons, but helped me get through difficult times later in life.
I will always remember my Dad saying,
" If I ever catch you starting a fight I'll give you the whipping of your life". "If I ever catch you running from a fight, I'll give you the whipping of your life".
He meant it.
When I was in grade school we lived in one of the coal mining areas of West Virginia.
Coal Mining was a dangerious way of life.
The people were tough. The people were mean. Many of the men had just returned from the big war and they were very violent. We kids of course, took our cues from the grown ups.
Our neighbors had three boys. Ray about three years younger than I; Fred about one year younger, and Gene two years older. We were always fighting. Gene, the older one was about 3 or 4 inches taller than me and about 20 or 25 pounds heavier. The middle one was about the same size as me. But at that age, a year makes a big diference in attitude. The older one could usually whip me if he got a hold on me. But he would be chastised by the adults for picking on someone smaller and younger. So, He would egg on his younger brother to challenge me. Then when I started to get the best of him, The older one would start hitting me and if anyone said anything he would claim that I started a fight with the brother and he was mearly taking up for his younger brother.
One evening I was on the way home after just whipping Fred, who had started the fight at the behest of Gene. As I entered our yard Gene came running across the yard and hit me a good one. the fight was on.
My dad came out of the house and went straight to an apple tree and cut a big switch off one of the limbs.
"You Boys want to fight"? "I'm going to give you your chance". "You can start now, and if you quit I'll whip you with this switch until you start again".
i held my own for a while. then Gene started to get the best of me. During this period we had each gotten a taste of the switch.
"Garry", "Kick him" my Dad yelled. I did. What had been a fist fight/ wrestling match turned into a kicking contest. As it happened, Gene had on a new pair of big heavy boots. I had on a pair of high top shoes that I had been wearing for months. Gene had trouble moving around quickly and I soon was kicking the shit out of him. He gave up and Dad let us stop.
What did I learn from this? I'm not sure. But I don't give up easily.