On Saturday we had the memorial of life for my Uncle Ralph who died a few months ago at 79. He was a great part of my times in Florida with my parents that I cherish so much. I remember going to their place there and watching the Super Bowl one year, Another time I remember going there and it was SO HOT..My mom and I had to stay near the door in order not to pass out!! I remember a birthday party for my Late Great Uncle Art, and when he was blind going to the New Years Eve Dance and seeing him and his wife, My Aunt Sheila outside. So many memories of Florida never mind in CT.
Uncle Ralph sold me my first car. His used Buick Century. This thing was a boat but it was a great car. I learned to love the movie "Its a wonderful life" because of Uncle Ralph. We always had Christmas Eve at his house and I saw the Tape and wondered what it was. He let me take it home and it has become a cherished movie as well as memory.
At the Memorial of life for him I loved hearing my Cousin tell stories about him. I felt bad in a way though because you tend to realize that you don't really know someone when you hear all the little personal family stories. Part of me wished so bad that I had been part of all that and had known him better then I did. Did I not try hard enough or is it that life is like that? I learned about his sense of Humor and I wonder if in any way I got that part of myself from him, as I hear people say I get my love of writing from Uncle Art. Hearing from his friends and all the wonderful memories I felt a bit envious. I always thought he was a great man, now I see that he was more so then I ever knew.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, July 30, 2009
This Is Family
Another Family Reunion is coming. Unlike what some members of my family think, I happen to look forward to them. Yes, we only see these people once a year. Yes, We all promise to keep in touch, but of course it never happens. These are just things people say to each other having the best intentions. You know that going into it, so therefore I don't understand the reluctance in going.
I have memories of the reunion being held at my Grandparent's house. I was very young but I do have scattered pictures of them in my mind. Gathered around a campfire, My Cousin singing. The most reunions were held at my Uncle Larry's and Aunt Fran's. they held them for many years until they passed it on to my Cousin Karen. It was never the same after that. Karen's place makes everyone to scattered around. Karen says she is not able to hold it this year so Uncle Larry is taking it back.
When I was younger these held a special place in my heart. As I have gotten older though it has become less so. Everyone is grown now and has families. The second cousins are now where we were 30 years ago. We are in the middle now. In 15 or 20 years we will be the oldest generation. That is a weird and sobering thought. I hold dear the people who have left us: My Grandparents, Great Uncle Art, Uncle Dave, Aunt Gloria & My Brother Jimmy.
I go because of one reason: This is family. These are the people who we were given, like them or not. We all have our quirks that others look down upon. We all have relatives that we get along better with then others. We all have our own lives and concerns. But for one day a year we all get together and catch up. This or that one is still drinking. That one over there is still on drugs and on and on it goes. But we are family and you walk in knowing what to expect.
My big disappointment and sadness is that for the sixth year in a row I will be going alone. No partner, No kids. I will be asked politely how things are, if I am seeing anyone. I will answer them and they will smile and move on. I really hate that part of it. I am becoming one of those that people talk about. "Gary is alone again. It's been a long time since his Ex left" I hate that. Once again I go as just me. No stories to tell, no kids to show off. Just me. I am so sick and tired of just me. I want to slam it into the wall and destroy it. For once I want to hear "So, who is this, and how did you meet?"
I look forward to seeing my Cousins, I look forward to seeing my Aunts and Uncles. My Cousin Bill is very sick so it will be nice to see him, I can't wait to hear about peoples travels and one Cousins music.
For all the reluctance some have on going this weekend, I know that someday these reunions will stop. I for one want to hang on to them for however long we have left.
I have memories of the reunion being held at my Grandparent's house. I was very young but I do have scattered pictures of them in my mind. Gathered around a campfire, My Cousin singing. The most reunions were held at my Uncle Larry's and Aunt Fran's. they held them for many years until they passed it on to my Cousin Karen. It was never the same after that. Karen's place makes everyone to scattered around. Karen says she is not able to hold it this year so Uncle Larry is taking it back.
When I was younger these held a special place in my heart. As I have gotten older though it has become less so. Everyone is grown now and has families. The second cousins are now where we were 30 years ago. We are in the middle now. In 15 or 20 years we will be the oldest generation. That is a weird and sobering thought. I hold dear the people who have left us: My Grandparents, Great Uncle Art, Uncle Dave, Aunt Gloria & My Brother Jimmy.
I go because of one reason: This is family. These are the people who we were given, like them or not. We all have our quirks that others look down upon. We all have relatives that we get along better with then others. We all have our own lives and concerns. But for one day a year we all get together and catch up. This or that one is still drinking. That one over there is still on drugs and on and on it goes. But we are family and you walk in knowing what to expect.
My big disappointment and sadness is that for the sixth year in a row I will be going alone. No partner, No kids. I will be asked politely how things are, if I am seeing anyone. I will answer them and they will smile and move on. I really hate that part of it. I am becoming one of those that people talk about. "Gary is alone again. It's been a long time since his Ex left" I hate that. Once again I go as just me. No stories to tell, no kids to show off. Just me. I am so sick and tired of just me. I want to slam it into the wall and destroy it. For once I want to hear "So, who is this, and how did you meet?"
I look forward to seeing my Cousins, I look forward to seeing my Aunts and Uncles. My Cousin Bill is very sick so it will be nice to see him, I can't wait to hear about peoples travels and one Cousins music.
For all the reluctance some have on going this weekend, I know that someday these reunions will stop. I for one want to hang on to them for however long we have left.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
If you think really hard, maybe we can stop this rain
The 40th Anniversary of the Woodstock concert is coming next month, and I am very excited. I have loved the whole legend of Woodstock since I was a kid. I still tell my mom now that I was born way to late.
I discovered Woodstock at a neighbor's house. We all grew up mowing these peoples lawn. One day I ventured to a side house that they had. I saw some albums and went through them. On the cover of one of them I saw a picture of a large group of people. They were of all ages, long hair, men & women. They were dancing, laying, squatting, and having sex with the back drop of a huge stage. I asked about it and was told that it was a festival. A huge gathering in which people lost themselves in music and peace.
As I got older I would learn more about Woodstock. The bands that played there. Where it was held. The people who put it together. I watched the video of the concert and fell even more in love with it. Every now and then I would hear a song on the radio. Once when I was with my Brother Brian and our friend Richie the song "Fixing to die rag" from Country Joe came on and I just stood mesmerised.
Behind the legend of Woodstock of course is drugs and death. It was a mess with the rain and mud and poor resources. A 17 year old died there after being run over by a tractor. Rumors were a baby was born there also. But even with all the bad things I just love the whole feeling of togetherness. These people were there not only to see great music, And what great music it was. But they also were there because they were trying to run away from something. They were lonely, sad, depressed, hurt, near death, going off to war. I have read many books about people who went there and they all convey this one theme. To run to something. For a long weekend they were family.
The most interesting thing about Woodstock is that it was not put on to become the legend it eventually became. It was put on to usher out the 1960's and all the tragic events of that decade. It was also nothing more then a money making venture. But in the end the fences came down and they lost everything. Also if you look at it music wise it is interesting. Most of these acts were not big by any means. It was the first concert for CSNY. The Who had never played outside England. You look back on these people now and they are the innovators of rock and roll. Then they were just struggling musicians.
When Woodstock 1994 was put together I was in School and was so excited. I spent my money to get it on Pay per view and taped the entire concert on video. I then put this onto cassettes. When Woodstock 1999 was put together I did the same thing. I still have these videos and cassettes and listen to them as well as watch them at least 3 times a year. As with the Original Woodstock these concerts were a mess. Many people claimed that it was nothing but trying to make back the money they lost in 1969. This may be rightfully so, but who cares. People still needed a place to go.
Something about being with like minded people in a comforting environment just makes me want to run off and be part of it. I understand what it is like to question your life. I am 42 years old. I am divorced, have no kids, I work at a dead-end job. I hate myself so badly at times that I cry when I am alone but put on my smile and crack jokes to cover my heart when I am with people. I see people with kids and someone to love them and it tears me apart. What is wrong with me? Why is it that people who lie and cheat have it, but I go to bed alone and wake up alone every day? I crave for someone to look beyond my weaknesses and love me. Running away and trying to discover yourself and doing it in a communal environment. I get it.
I am romanticising Woodstock. I know. But in my heart the idea of people all gathered together for a weekend just listening to music, sleeping in tents, just forgetting for that short amount of time who you are and what you have waiting at home. Just forgetting all your pain and sadness and what you lack in life. That to me is poetry.
I discovered Woodstock at a neighbor's house. We all grew up mowing these peoples lawn. One day I ventured to a side house that they had. I saw some albums and went through them. On the cover of one of them I saw a picture of a large group of people. They were of all ages, long hair, men & women. They were dancing, laying, squatting, and having sex with the back drop of a huge stage. I asked about it and was told that it was a festival. A huge gathering in which people lost themselves in music and peace.
As I got older I would learn more about Woodstock. The bands that played there. Where it was held. The people who put it together. I watched the video of the concert and fell even more in love with it. Every now and then I would hear a song on the radio. Once when I was with my Brother Brian and our friend Richie the song "Fixing to die rag" from Country Joe came on and I just stood mesmerised.
Behind the legend of Woodstock of course is drugs and death. It was a mess with the rain and mud and poor resources. A 17 year old died there after being run over by a tractor. Rumors were a baby was born there also. But even with all the bad things I just love the whole feeling of togetherness. These people were there not only to see great music, And what great music it was. But they also were there because they were trying to run away from something. They were lonely, sad, depressed, hurt, near death, going off to war. I have read many books about people who went there and they all convey this one theme. To run to something. For a long weekend they were family.
The most interesting thing about Woodstock is that it was not put on to become the legend it eventually became. It was put on to usher out the 1960's and all the tragic events of that decade. It was also nothing more then a money making venture. But in the end the fences came down and they lost everything. Also if you look at it music wise it is interesting. Most of these acts were not big by any means. It was the first concert for CSNY. The Who had never played outside England. You look back on these people now and they are the innovators of rock and roll. Then they were just struggling musicians.
When Woodstock 1994 was put together I was in School and was so excited. I spent my money to get it on Pay per view and taped the entire concert on video. I then put this onto cassettes. When Woodstock 1999 was put together I did the same thing. I still have these videos and cassettes and listen to them as well as watch them at least 3 times a year. As with the Original Woodstock these concerts were a mess. Many people claimed that it was nothing but trying to make back the money they lost in 1969. This may be rightfully so, but who cares. People still needed a place to go.
Something about being with like minded people in a comforting environment just makes me want to run off and be part of it. I understand what it is like to question your life. I am 42 years old. I am divorced, have no kids, I work at a dead-end job. I hate myself so badly at times that I cry when I am alone but put on my smile and crack jokes to cover my heart when I am with people. I see people with kids and someone to love them and it tears me apart. What is wrong with me? Why is it that people who lie and cheat have it, but I go to bed alone and wake up alone every day? I crave for someone to look beyond my weaknesses and love me. Running away and trying to discover yourself and doing it in a communal environment. I get it.
I am romanticising Woodstock. I know. But in my heart the idea of people all gathered together for a weekend just listening to music, sleeping in tents, just forgetting for that short amount of time who you are and what you have waiting at home. Just forgetting all your pain and sadness and what you lack in life. That to me is poetry.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Vox Clamantis In Deserto
I wrote this back in May 1987. I saw this saying in the newspaper and fell in love with it. It means "The voice of one crying in the wilderness"
---------------
Alone among the trees and animals, sitting amongst some rocks, crying, I found my inner self.
I approached the figure, slowly. scared and confused.
I reached out and asked why it was crying. It turned to me, stared into my eyes and uttered "Don't you know"?
Confused, I sat next to it and a feeling of remorse came over me. I saw every moment of my life. The good and the bad. The good being outnumbered.
I came back and looked at my inner self. Slowly we became one and I alone was in the wilderness crying.
If you come across my secret place, listen.
Vox Clamantis In Deserto
---------------
Alone among the trees and animals, sitting amongst some rocks, crying, I found my inner self.
I approached the figure, slowly. scared and confused.
I reached out and asked why it was crying. It turned to me, stared into my eyes and uttered "Don't you know"?
Confused, I sat next to it and a feeling of remorse came over me. I saw every moment of my life. The good and the bad. The good being outnumbered.
I came back and looked at my inner self. Slowly we became one and I alone was in the wilderness crying.
If you come across my secret place, listen.
Vox Clamantis In Deserto
Monday, June 29, 2009
A Letter To My Unborn Child
I was hoping to meet you many years ago. I had it all set in my head on how it was going to be. Your Mom would be having you and I would be by her side, holding her hand, helping her with her breathing. You would come and I would look down at you as the nurse cleaned you up and wrapped you in a blanket. I would be crying as I brought you to your Mother. We would just be together as a family. I imagined it would be the most important, meaningful moment of my life.
Sadly the Woman who was supposed to be your Mother decided a few years ago that she no longer loved me. She cheated and left me for another. As much as your birth would have been the most important moment of my life, this ending was the most painful, heartbreaking, life changing event of it.
As the years have gone by, I am seeing you in my future less and less. I have not found the Woman who would be your Mother. Maybe I am not trying hard enough, or perhaps I am punishing myself for all that was taken away from me. I am slowly starting to believe in myself again, but I still struggle. I think I was a good Husband. I left her love notes, sent her flowers, was there for her to cry with and lean on. Not a day went by that I did not make sure she knew how much I appreciated her. But yet she left me for a Man that will do none of these things. How I am supposed to feel about myself when I lost out to a cheating jerk?
Maybe someday I will end up with a Woman who already has Children and your spirit will end up as not a newborn, but in the shape of a pre-teen or teenager in need of a Fathers love, guidance. Perhaps some day when your heart is broken your Mother, my soul mate, will wrap you in a blanket on the couch and we will sit as a family and talk.
I imagine it will be the most important, meaningful moment of my life.
Sadly the Woman who was supposed to be your Mother decided a few years ago that she no longer loved me. She cheated and left me for another. As much as your birth would have been the most important moment of my life, this ending was the most painful, heartbreaking, life changing event of it.
As the years have gone by, I am seeing you in my future less and less. I have not found the Woman who would be your Mother. Maybe I am not trying hard enough, or perhaps I am punishing myself for all that was taken away from me. I am slowly starting to believe in myself again, but I still struggle. I think I was a good Husband. I left her love notes, sent her flowers, was there for her to cry with and lean on. Not a day went by that I did not make sure she knew how much I appreciated her. But yet she left me for a Man that will do none of these things. How I am supposed to feel about myself when I lost out to a cheating jerk?
Maybe someday I will end up with a Woman who already has Children and your spirit will end up as not a newborn, but in the shape of a pre-teen or teenager in need of a Fathers love, guidance. Perhaps some day when your heart is broken your Mother, my soul mate, will wrap you in a blanket on the couch and we will sit as a family and talk.
I imagine it will be the most important, meaningful moment of my life.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Mean People Suck
The mother could not have been more then 40 yrs old. The son was about 10, The daughter 7 or so. I approached the check out line at the grocery store clutching my few items. The line was long and I heard people making sounds that impatient people make: moans, groans, muttering under their breath. I had no idea what the problem was until I stepped behind the last person in line. God forbid. The woman at the register did not have enough money to pay for all the items she was buying.
The cashier could have been nicer about it. Try to keep it private. But instead she said very loudly "Their is not enough on your card. Do you have any cash?" The woman turned red from embarrassment and I am sure a touch of shame. "You are going to have to decide what to take out" the cashier informed her. Loudly.
At this point the woman's kids looked at her. The son seemed to want to run away and try to not claim this as his mother. The daughter took her moms hand and looked up at her with questionable eyes "Mom"? Very quietly the woman started to hand the cashier items: Tuna, a can of fruit, a box of tissue. Beep, beep, beep, the cashier waved them back over the register. "You are going to have to take out more" the cashier, now visibly frustrated shouted.
The people in front of me were shuffling their feet. "COME ON"!! a few yelled. The son at this point walked away from his mother and sister and went closer to the doors. The daughter was handing things to her mom: Juice, frozen breakfast meals. Beep, beep, beep, went the register. I noticed that not one item was frivolous. She had food and household items. No junk, no candy, ice cream. Nothing that a mother would hurriedly buy after hearing their child say "Please, please, please" a hundred times. She was just a mother trying to provide for her family.
The cashier hit a button that let other employees know that a second line had to be opened. A man came over, put away the plastic "Closed" sign, and everyone in front of me went rushing over. Everyone. I stepped behind the woman and her daughter and waited. Now that the line had dispersed the son came back over and helped his sister hand over items. Beep, beep, beep went the register. "Do you want to just leave and come back with the money"? the cashier mumbled. "You are still short by a few dollars". The woman looked at me and I could tell by the look on her face that part of her wanted to run. Just take her children and get away from the situation. She wanted to go and put her kids in the back seat of the car so that they would not see her crying. The cashier looked at me rolling her eyes, expecting me to look down at this woman like everyone else.
Back in the late 80's I was living in Hartford and I was poor. I would live off of hot dogs, cereal, and eggs. I would have $20.00 to my name that needed to last me 2 weeks. I was ashamed, sad, depressed, scared, and hopeless. I had to survive so I starved at times. I finally did receive food stamps which helped greatly. Like this woman though I would be red with embarrassment when I had to pull out the book and tear off the bills within sight of everyone. I would just whisper to myself that at least I was going to be able to eat.
"How much is she short by"? I quietly asked the cashier. She looked puzzled. "You mean now, or from the beginning" she asked "The beginning" I said. "$15.47". Her eyes bulged as I went over and gave her my debit card. "Put it on my card" "What..Umm..Ok" she stammered as I put my numbers into the register. The other line had emptied out and the "Closed" sign was back in place. The woman standing behind me on her cell phone didn't seem to notice what was going on.
The mother just looked at me. She whispered "Thank you, thank you". The son smiled, the daughter was still holding her moms hand. The transaction finished they went to the counter to put the groceries into bags. I bought my few items and started to leave. "Thank you mister" said the daughter. the mother smiled at me with a look that I will never forget. The cashier continued on with the woman with the cell phone. She acted like her response to this mother was fine. No apologies, no looks of understanding. She just went on with her business.
As I drove away I hoped to myself that these children would remember this small gesture and learn from it. I hoped that they would have a good life.
The cashier could have been nicer about it. Try to keep it private. But instead she said very loudly "Their is not enough on your card. Do you have any cash?" The woman turned red from embarrassment and I am sure a touch of shame. "You are going to have to decide what to take out" the cashier informed her. Loudly.
At this point the woman's kids looked at her. The son seemed to want to run away and try to not claim this as his mother. The daughter took her moms hand and looked up at her with questionable eyes "Mom"? Very quietly the woman started to hand the cashier items: Tuna, a can of fruit, a box of tissue. Beep, beep, beep, the cashier waved them back over the register. "You are going to have to take out more" the cashier, now visibly frustrated shouted.
The people in front of me were shuffling their feet. "COME ON"!! a few yelled. The son at this point walked away from his mother and sister and went closer to the doors. The daughter was handing things to her mom: Juice, frozen breakfast meals. Beep, beep, beep, went the register. I noticed that not one item was frivolous. She had food and household items. No junk, no candy, ice cream. Nothing that a mother would hurriedly buy after hearing their child say "Please, please, please" a hundred times. She was just a mother trying to provide for her family.
The cashier hit a button that let other employees know that a second line had to be opened. A man came over, put away the plastic "Closed" sign, and everyone in front of me went rushing over. Everyone. I stepped behind the woman and her daughter and waited. Now that the line had dispersed the son came back over and helped his sister hand over items. Beep, beep, beep went the register. "Do you want to just leave and come back with the money"? the cashier mumbled. "You are still short by a few dollars". The woman looked at me and I could tell by the look on her face that part of her wanted to run. Just take her children and get away from the situation. She wanted to go and put her kids in the back seat of the car so that they would not see her crying. The cashier looked at me rolling her eyes, expecting me to look down at this woman like everyone else.
Back in the late 80's I was living in Hartford and I was poor. I would live off of hot dogs, cereal, and eggs. I would have $20.00 to my name that needed to last me 2 weeks. I was ashamed, sad, depressed, scared, and hopeless. I had to survive so I starved at times. I finally did receive food stamps which helped greatly. Like this woman though I would be red with embarrassment when I had to pull out the book and tear off the bills within sight of everyone. I would just whisper to myself that at least I was going to be able to eat.
"How much is she short by"? I quietly asked the cashier. She looked puzzled. "You mean now, or from the beginning" she asked "The beginning" I said. "$15.47". Her eyes bulged as I went over and gave her my debit card. "Put it on my card" "What..Umm..Ok" she stammered as I put my numbers into the register. The other line had emptied out and the "Closed" sign was back in place. The woman standing behind me on her cell phone didn't seem to notice what was going on.
The mother just looked at me. She whispered "Thank you, thank you". The son smiled, the daughter was still holding her moms hand. The transaction finished they went to the counter to put the groceries into bags. I bought my few items and started to leave. "Thank you mister" said the daughter. the mother smiled at me with a look that I will never forget. The cashier continued on with the woman with the cell phone. She acted like her response to this mother was fine. No apologies, no looks of understanding. She just went on with her business.
As I drove away I hoped to myself that these children would remember this small gesture and learn from it. I hoped that they would have a good life.
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