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I Must have been having a bad
hair day...
I have heard it said that we are what we eat. I am prone to believe that we are what we have had shoved down our throats in the form of heritage, "common sense", and so on…
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Some make their living singing the blues. Others try to outgrow it and move on with their lives. It seems to me that if I were to express anything worthy, it would stem from objective views outside the various influences of the sadness and apathy encountered. That is not such an easy accomplishment, when sadness and madness is imposed on us from our youth and till death do us part. I imagine there are some that have such strength of character that they may not be able to relate to “the blues”. There have been times when I see some people looking so happy and full of laughter and think to myself that they are either irresponsibly oblivious to what is going on around them or maybe that is their way of staving off the impact of it. But for a chuckle, I am reminded of the expression, Ignorance is Bliss.
Sometimes I wonder if my sadness may be a family trait. At other times, I wonder if it is solely a reflection of my own weakness. When I look back at my youth, I think of how all of the acts of violence, cruelty, ridicule, etcetera, encountered, are nothing more than natural phenomenon and can have a major influence on how we develop.
We either grow from it, ideally speaking, or succumb to it.
I cannot help but think that the media has been a major influence on our character. The sadness that was reflected thru the radio media during my youth was nearly omnipresent and had quite an impact on me. Some may think that at the time, the music industry was molded to support the record companies. Once found that sensationalism sells, it was used to lull us into supporting the industry. I guess you could say that it was used as a crutch to make money from. I cannot help but think that the media is very suppressive in that respect. It seems that it is too easy to absorb yourself in the sadness of the music often played in those days.
Like moss on the north side, it kinda grows on you, if you don't keep looking for new horizons and developing your scope.
There is one thing that seems of great importance in relation to negative external influences, and our own feelings of sadness and depression, is to remember that they are cyclic. If we can keep that in mind, and not loose focus on a healthier outlook, we would be a lot better off.
So what it boils down to is, only the strong survive. In my youth, I was told that we should refrain from use of crutches, personal and otherwise. When habitually used to deal with challenges, they only leads to more weaknesses. That leads me to think that from all of this coarseness of character experienced, we make our own personal walls to protect ourselves. A common wall, but not so easily perceived as such, is sarcasm. In a way, it may be considered a humorous expression of intelligence, but some think of it as a reflection of callousness and insincerity, while attempting to reflect a more superior understanding.
There I go again. Every time I attempt to write a page about me, I seem to speak in overviews, rather than a direct reflection of my life. Being that I am often a sarcastic person, I cannot help but say, that I often have an objective perspective. I object a lot. smirk. Ok, I will try to delve into telling a bit more about me. It seems that every time that I attempt to express more personal information, I end up procrastinating by falling back on expressions of humor (I’m a funny guy, but too modest to let it show), or speaking in generalities and overviews.
Ok, I will try to delve into telling a bit more about me.
As you might have guessed, there has been a lot of turmoil in my life as well as blessings. If it not too boring, I will let you in on some if it. For the first four years and most all summers of my youth, I lived in a town of about 150 population on the Hood Canal in Washington State. It had a grocery store, Post Office, and a one-room school for all 8 grades with one teacher. Three generations of my family went to that school. Then when my mom remarried, I lived in the foothills of Mt. St. Helens until my early teens. The family included 6 boys and one girl with me being the middle aged kid. Living there was pretty rural too. I lived about one mile from the nearest kids my age. School was 7 miles away and we lived about 15 miles from the nearest town. We lived on 60 acres with 3 large fenced fields and it included a river that ran thru it. The river was great. It was about thirty feet wide and fifteen feet deep at one section making it a great place for swimming. As kids, we did a lot of exploring along the river, nearby hills, and mountains. We got around most commonly by horse, bicycle, or just walking. Being a rather large family, we grew about half acre garden each summer and did a lot if fishing in the river. We had 4 houses and at times would ride them to school. We had about twenty head of cattle, which included beef and milk cattle. Typically, We milked the cows every morning before going to school. Being that it was pretty much a farm that we lived on to support the family, we raised our own pigs, chickens, turkeys, and much more...sometimes we rode the pigs and cattle too. Silly kids, huh? Some might think that living there, sounds like a slice of paradise. In a way, it was. But, in my step dads’ eyes, my moms’ kids were rarely considered or treated any better than the animals that we had. Most of the time he was quite emotionally and physically cruel. Any time he sense us developing a some self esteem, or strength of spirit, he would take some pretty strong action to ensure that did not happen. (I found out just recently that he said that he hated kids.)
Expressions of kindness and social graces were few and far between. The first time someone in that area did something that I thought was kind to me. I was about 8 years old and was riding the bus to school. A kid in his teens that was sitting in a seat behind me fixed the collar on my shirt. I guess it was sticking up from under my coat and was not folded over. There were two major influences that did help me develop socially. I went to church for nearly ten years without missing one day of Sunday attendance. The church was far from a mainstream religion. It was branch of the Quaker religion, called the Friends’ Church. The other major contribution, thanks to my grandmother who paid for it, was taking three years of piano lessons. The piano teacher was one of the few families in the area that reflected some class. They had about 120 acres further up the valley. It was called Melody Ranch. They had a large two-story house with the lower level used parties and was where the piano lessons took place.
From my own observations and personal experience, what is often ignored or overlooked is that children of divorced parents seem to suffer from insecurity and a lack of self-esteem. Add to that, living in a family that is in constant conflict that puts little effort into nourishing personal growth and development makes it very tough to be…successful.
I do not want to elaborate on the family life too much, but to reflect some the intensity and influences of living there, I will say that my mom had a nervous breakdown from it. The primary source of income for most people living in the area was in support of the logging industry. One could easily get the impression that fist fights at school was the primary sport there. I could go on and on about it, but living in that environment made the summers spent with my grandparents even more enjoyable. I really do not want to continue on talking about the rough times of living there.
After finishing my freshman year in high school, I moved out to live with my grandparents on the Hood Canal and finished my education there. My cousin, who was my next-door neighbor and two years older than me, became my best friend. He was a senior in school at the time. He talked me into turning out for the wrestling team. Probably the most positive influences of my life were both his friendship and joining the wrestling team. We would go to parties together after school and sometimes after practices. I never went to parties prior to that. I was typically a very quiet and reserve person, While at these parties, I spent most of the time observing the people there making fools of themselves and some expressing their capacity to be rednecks. There was one place that I felt like it was some shelter from the storm. It was where some of these parties took place. I never had much opportunity feel like that much before. If it were not for the parents and their children, who put on these parties, I probably would have developed very few social skills. They were very open-minded parents. Going there was a bit like going to a Hugh Hefner party, but more reserve, considering our ages, and the legal consequences. Both of their children became very good friends of mine. One of their kids who was also in the school band with me, taught me how to play drums. He had a great sense of humor, but was also quiet and expressed quite a bit of self-discipline. They were very kind people that inspired me to develop my social skills. I still am normally quite reserve, and far from the epitome of social graces, but I feel that their influence has helped me advance in many social situations, including my career.
I have worked in a variety of fields, not just pastures either. I have been employed as a social worker, in power plant construction, a mechanic, and primarily over the years as a quality control inspector for aerospace and medical manufacturing companies.
If you want a view of how I could be so easily relay such a viewpoint, read some of my
family history.
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