Vivid Memories of Childhood and Beyond

I remember reading the book 1984

9783730609767-us.jpg

Not a big sci-fi fan, but that book fascinated me

Orwell painted quite the picture

Heh, read it in 1964, smuggled it into Western Civ class (kept me awake)

Thought, man, that'll never happen, and if it does, that'll be 20 years from now
And who cares, I'll be 35

1984 is working on 40 years back

Thought getting old would take longer
 

horseless carriage said:
In the group photo above you can see, circled on the left: Sir Michael Jagger, as he will become known as. His fellow alumni is also his fellow band member and one man hell raiser: Keith Richards.
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Mick never really changed did he... just got a whole load of wrinkles....:D..you know, the stones despite their wild hell raising reputation, which they deservedly have, are the nicest , most genuine people you could hope to meet...
 
All that hell raising was nothing more than a stage managed publicity act. The substance abuse often started when the band's management induced it. And not just The Rolling Stones. Most of the 60's groups, as the bands were called, back then, wore matching stage outfits, often a smart looking suit with collar & tie. That wasn't for The Rolling Stones, they revelled in their appearance, more so when newspapers fed their readers with descriptions like anarchists.
 
I've been reviewing my writings, jots

Came across this one

(Gawd, I love that woman)

My lady comes from a violent family, and when she gets angry, people scurry away….that’s one reason I have a wood shop.

Thing is, guns are for levelheaded people, male or female.
I don’t trust her with a handgun.
She doesn’t trust herself with a handgun.
‘I don’t need one.’
…and she doesn’t.

She took out a carload of teenagers with a garbage can lid at 20 yards (meters)…used it like a Frisbee.
And, shortly after I met her, she stabbed a guy that was gettin’ too friendly with a Bic pen.
I kinda got my own little bizzarro MacGyver.

Matter of fact, hangin’ around her, I don’t even need a handgun.
 
Gary O' said:
I've been reviewing my writings, jots

Came across this one
Click to expand...
Another;


Thanksgiving 2012





We ate.


Whew, tired now.

OK, the highlight.
After stuffing myself with stuffing, we settled into a rousing game of head bobbing scrabble.
I say ‘head bobbing’ because we don’t use a timer, so some people….I won’t mention names, but let’s just say I’ve known her for 43 years, and she still sports around a magnificent hind end…some people take a fortnight or two to lay down the word ‘MAY’…..and after a bit of wine and turkey and gravy, my head tends to bob, even though firmly propped up by my hands, elbows on the dining table.

One of the grandpuppies, he’s thirteen now, still likes to chew on things…dangerous things, just to still get a rise outta Namaw.
Heh, he excused himself and proceeded to the restroom.
I heard some coughing.
Not the normal cold like coughing, but more like gagging, and kacking.
I told my lady my concerns, but we played on, which consisted of my head plopping onto the table while she fretted over the letters AAZQTXP…
So, our darling teen hulk finally emerged from the bathroom, and a bit sheepishly sat back at his place at the table…..and laid out a rather moist letter K.
Apparently, he was wallering the tile around the inside of his mouth and got it lodged in his throat but managed to proceed nonchalantly to the can and hork it up into the tub.....along with other less distinguishable bits and pieces, but I could tell he’d dined mostly on green olives and cranberry sauce.

Now it’s our special K.
 
Gary O' said:
Another;


Thanksgiving 2012
I have a dog sweater that belonged to my most special pup. It says "Been There, Chewed That" There was not anything he would go after. He would even pick pocket the purses of ladies that came over. Steal wallets, makeup bags, glass cases. He was a handful!!




We ate.


Whew, tired now.

OK, the highlight.
After stuffing myself with stuffing, we settled into a rousing game of head bobbing scrabble.
I say ‘head bobbing’ because we don’t use a timer, so some people….I won’t mention names, but let’s just say I’ve known her for 43 years, and she still sports around a magnificent hind end…some people take a fortnight or two to lay down the word ‘MAY’…..and after a bit of wine and turkey and gravy, my head tends to bob, even though firmly propped up by my hands, elbows on the dining table.

One of the grandpuppies, he’s thirteen now, still likes to chew on things…dangerous things, just to still get a rise outta Namaw.
Heh, he excused himself and proceeded to the restroom.
I heard some coughing.
Not the normal cold like coughing, but more like gagging, and kacking.
I told my lady my concerns, but we played on, which consisted of my head plopping onto the table while she fretted over the letters AAZQTXP…
So, our darling teen hulk finally emerged from the bathroom, and a bit sheepishly sat back at his place at the table…..and laid out a rather moist letter K.
Apparently, he was wallering the tile around the inside of his mouth and got it lodged in his throat but managed to proceed nonchalantly to the can and hork it up into the tub.....along with other less distinguishable bits and pieces, but I could tell he’d dined mostly on green olives and cranberry sauce.

Now it’s our special K.
Click to expand...
 
I have so many memories from my childhood. Reading this thread reminded me of my Dad and his obsession with tv shows. He was so interested in watching tv that we had tv sets in every room of the house even the bathroom. He had a small one hanging on a pole so when we took a bath we could watch a tv show. I wish I had a picture of it to show you what it looked like.
 
Gary O' said:
Another;


Thanksgiving 2012





We ate.


Whew, tired now.

OK, the highlight.
After stuffing myself with stuffing, we settled into a rousing game of head bobbing scrabble.
I say ‘head bobbing’ because we don’t use a timer, so some people….I won’t mention names, but let’s just say I’ve known her for 43 years, and she still sports around a magnificent hind end…some people take a fortnight or two to lay down the word ‘MAY’…..and after a bit of wine and turkey and gravy, my head tends to bob, even though firmly propped up by my hands, elbows on the dining table.

One of the grandpuppies, he’s thirteen now, still likes to chew on things…dangerous things, just to still get a rise outta Namaw.
Heh, he excused himself and proceeded to the restroom.
I heard some coughing.
Not the normal cold like coughing, but more like gagging, and kacking.
I told my lady my concerns, but we played on, which consisted of my head plopping onto the table while she fretted over the letters AAZQTXP…
So, our darling teen hulk finally emerged from the bathroom, and a bit sheepishly sat back at his place at the table…..and laid out a rather moist letter K.
Apparently, he was wallering the tile around the inside of his mouth and got it lodged in his throat but managed to proceed nonchalantly to the can and hork it up into the tub.....along with other less distinguishable bits and pieces, but I could tell he’d dined mostly on green olives and cranberry sauce.

Now it’s our special K.
Click to expand...
iu
 
Sassycakes said:
I have so many memories from my childhood. Reading this thread reminded me of my Dad and his obsession with tv shows. He was so interested in watching tv that we had tv sets in every room of the house even the bathroom. He had a small one hanging on a pole so when we took a bath we could watch a tv show. I wish I had a picture of it to show you what it looked like.
Click to expand...
Here is a different kind of television screen.
iu
 
At age 88 I spend almost every minute of my day in front of my PC. I haven't watched TV since I purchased my PC many years ago. I do not even remember what year that was.

When I was just a kid, I spent hours every day with my shortwave radio.
 
Looking through some old magazines, it seemed that listening to the radio or music required the listeners to wear their 'Sunday best' clothes.

practical-wireless-1950s-uk-diy-radios-tape-7066445.jpg

In my teens, I used to build radio receivers using salvaged components, and I could listen to all sorts of things, though I was never sure of what frequency they were on. One thing I did know was radio Luxembourg on 208 mtrs. You could only get this in the evening and it would fade in and out. Later on my parents bought me a Transistor radio with a waveband centred on 208.
 
Gary O' said:
something I writ while still employed;

Henry

I feel as though I’m on the set of the last half hour of Papillion, or the movie Life.
Just said g’mornin’ to Henry for the gazillionth time.
He’s been an employee at this fine establishment since the doors opened, before even me, of which I’m regarded as the furniture.
We are both a bit slower of foot and noticeably grayer since we first met.
We have light conversation…about gardening, the weather, our offspring.

He’s a bit short on words.
Been thru a gaggle of engineer regimes.
Been in charge of what we call the process room forever.
It’s where we encapsulate, vacuum varnish, mold, and do all the dirty work....the dirty work that takes a mad scientist to coordinate all the tanks, racks, and ovens to yield product (as our brochure says) ‘in a timely manner’.
For him, it’s a symphony, and he’s the conductor.
Patience his not his strong point.
He’s ‘hard to work with’.
Whenever an upstart engineering manager approaches him about a certain process (more like begging for an answer, so he can document the procedure in the build book), his usual reply is, ‘You’re the engineer, you tell me….ah...hahahahahaha’.

He can be seen on any given day, meticulously scraping out the last drop of epoxy in the bottom of a 5 gallon bucket….’It’s expensive’.

About ten years ago I had to take him in to counsel.
He’d made a production worker upset, to the point of tears.
We all knew he was just being Henry, harsh words were how he communicated.

I sat with him and the production manager, and explained to him about how he represented our company, and therefore an example, blather blah, blah, blather.
I guess he took every one of my words to heart.
I guess I dressed him down, took him to his inner core, because he began to weep.
It really took me off stride, as I was just building momentum, not even getting off my final salvo.
It confirmed what I’d learned sometime before.
Gruff crusty people, folks with chips on their shoulders, that once the armor of their defense is removed, will just fall apart.
I guess he was more than motivated that day, because motivation lasts only a short time, but he has yet to come off so harsh, as he’d been so many times before.

He is not articulate in the English language.
Someone once mentioned to me that ‘Henry sure speaks funny’
‘Yeah, he speaks funny like that in seven languages.’

He was a man without a country for around twenty years.
I was one of the privileged few from our company that he’d invited to the celebration of his citizenship.
A lot of his people were there, and they all revered him as a god.
He looked good in his uniform.
That day he became ‘Henry’, and we shared a sixpack of Private Reserve. He still mentions our little celebration, and has the Henry’s Private Reserve cap, I’d given him that day, hanging above his desk.

Henry has several distinct scars all over himself.
Holes the size of machine gun rounds.
Holes that remind him of the death march, of hiding under the body of the guy that became him when he took his identity papers because he’d lost his.
Holes that should have killed him more than once.
Holes that remind him of the loss of his entire family.
Holes that cause him to be even less verbal when someone inquires as to ‘what’d you do to get that?’

Holes that remind him of the price of freedom.

He still eats his lunch with sticks, sometimes sitting on the picnic bench cross legged.
It was a year or so after I’d hired on that Henry learned it was more acceptable to sit on the toilet instead of stand on it then squat.
I was glad to see that…hated always having to wipe those freaking footprints off the lid every damn time.

Yeah, him and I are on the other side of the hill now.

But it’s still really great to say g’mornin’ to my fellow countryman every day

….it’s actually quite an honor.
Click to expand...
There was another Cambodian lad
Sirren
Same background as Henry.
We joked a lot, but he had this temper....

We'd hired on a new production manager
A somewhat pompous ol' fart

Him and Sirren didn't get along

So, my Cambodian buddy came to me

Seems a lot of people would unload on me
All ranks
Not sure why, I wasn't in personnel
Gues I was a good listener

Sirren was pissed at the new prod mgr

'He talk to me one more time, I kick him down!
He go to sleep!'

Sirren was well versed in the arts
sometimes sticking his foot in my face
Rather playful like

Anyway, it took a bit to get him leveled out
Sometimes just listening to venting does it
Sometimes it takes a few words to get folks to think another way

I talked with the prod mgr
Wasted words

No worries, he lasted only a few more weeks

Sometimes things just work themselves out

Wonder what Sirren is doing these days

Heck of a worker
 
Gary O' said:
I just watched the movie 'Shine' last night

.....reminded me of my eldest son

was hard to hold emotion thru some parts

was much harder for my Lady

but we remained

riveted

My son
Excelled in academics
Skipped grades
Won awards
Became somewhat sought after
Mensa
Artistic things hung in municipal halls
Life for him was just too slow apace
Stayed up for days at a time
He’d regurgitate all his thoughts to his mother and I
It was a bit suffocating

Then one day he came to me in my shop
....and began crying, telling me he felt he was going crazy,
but unable to put his feelings into words
I hugged him
Told him all kids go thru puberty and change
‘this too shall pass’ kinda thing

The next years are a blur
I guess maybe I never have wished to dwell on the events in those years

I’ll try to piece some together on my own, as I know better than to ask my lady


He ended up in prison
At 19
Advancing from a minimum security facility to OSP
And on to ‘thunderdome’
Where nobody wants to go

Tried to arrange visits
Rejected countless times
Talked to OSP counselors
‘forget your son, concentrate on your other children’

We got a call
OSP does not call anyone
‘You need to see your son’

The visiting area was like a staging zone for zoo critters
Steel tables, benches, cemented in
Chain link walls and doors
He was led in by guards
Shackled head to toe
Made to sit
Unseeing eyes
No recognition
Indistinguishable utterances
He stunk to high heaven
Never looked our way

On the way home I had to pull over, off the freeway
I don’t remember the last time I cried
Maybe as a small child...
But
Never wept like that in my life
And have yet too since
Bitter
Helpless
Godless
Utter hopelessness

A week (?) later we got another call
He was being transferred to the psych ward across the street
Where ‘One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest’ was filmed

We were told he had quit eating entirely
Weighed 90 lbs
A guard carried him across the street

We were led to the visiting area
Typical booth like situation for visitors
Only, the other side of the glass was something from a zombie movie
We got to watch him attempt to drink milk and cry

My lady had a very hard time
I went alone
Weeks of visiting later, he was released
Just like that

After 7 years of maximum security

to us

I do not do well when cleaning up men with uncontrolled body functions

Triage
Nut bins
Meds

It’s all a blur

Somewhere in there, when he was still cognizant, I did a bit of a fraught thing…

We talked about his options
He wanted to go camping

So

Him and I packed his meager belongings

Bought him some basic camp stuff

Drove him to the Trask river area


And dropped him off

while it began to rain

Ever do something that gave you immediate relief, knowing the end result would probably not be optimal?

The sack of cats Dad would have me toss out the window of a speeding Chevy may have had an influence

On the way back home, I tried not to think.

Still

Thoughts crept in

Maybe he’d just lie there curled in his sleeping bag
Inert
Oblivious
Until days later large birds of prey would dine on his remains

It’s all a blur

They found him 300 miles south
Incoherent

The Tillamook women’s mental health facility asked us to take him back 'he can't stay here'

More triage

Got him hooked up with a place called Luke-Dorf

General population nut bin for semi-functional goofballs
Then what they call the quad
Then paired up in a shared apartment
And now
On his own
On a budget

I figger the tax payer’s dollars for this are from this tax payer

During these times he’d ever so often not take his meds
Sometimes it was because they changed colors or shapes and he didn’t think they were right
Sometimes it was just because he thought he no longer needed them
Always ended with me going over there, reattaching his phone, and fishing his glasses outa the toilet.

He’s as functional now as you and me, first look.

As long as he takes his meds.

Sorry
This is jumbled time line mess
My lady can recite the events like they happened yesterday
7 or more years of them
I will not take her there


Couple things;

Underage folks do not get diagnosed in regard to mental health
No matter how batshit crazy they are
At least they didn’t then

but

Rosie O'Donnell can git outa bed to do a show
Then go back to bed
And she’s clinically nuts

I know, I know, mental illness is different than insanity
I jus’ wanted to be trite for a bit during this scattered post
Click to expand...

It's like the old saying: "When they are babies they break your arms and when they're old they break your heart".
 
Gary O' said:
I remember reading the book 1984

View attachment 199499

Not a big sci-fi fan, but that book fascinated me

Orwell painted quite the picture

Heh, read it in 1964, smuggled it into Western Civ class (kept me awake)

Thought, man, that'll never happen, and if it does, that'll be 20 years from now
And who cares, I'll be 35

1984 is working on 40 years back

Thought getting old would take longer
Click to expand...
I read this book also and I had similar thoughts. Little did I know then that someday I may be living it. It wasn't long after I had finished reading this book that a book written by L. Ron Hubbard came out and was handed to me to read over. I couldn't even begin to imagine living in those types of societies.
 
Remember Dick and Jane books?
Wonder how they'd read today....

Where's spot?

He's dead

What?

Heeee's DEAD!
DEE EEE AYE DEEE! DEAD!

Can't hear a dang thing you said
gotta plug this doggone thing into my ear

OK, now what did you say?

He's outside
running

See Spot run

Can't see a darn thing

What's fer dinner?
....and who are you?
Where's Sally?
 
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When I was growing up I couldn't wait to get home and watch Bandstand, it was taped in my city. My sister and I would dance to every song.
Our neighborhood boys would even be on the show.
1959_Fabian_Forte.jpg Fabian ForteFrankie_Avalon_1959.jpgFrankie Avalon
Bobby_Rydell_1960.JPG Bobby Rydell
 
Gary O' said:
Remember Dick and Jane books?
Wonder how they'd read today....

Where's spot?

He's dead

What?

Heeee's DEAD!
DEE EEE AYE DEEE! DEAD!

Can't hear a dang thing you said
gotta plug this doggone thing into my ear

OK, now what did you say?

He's outside
running

See Spot run

Can't see a darn thing

What's fer dinner?
....and who are you?
Where's Sally?
Click to expand...
right here....
b904e9b069ec7cb9a2e302991deeb4fe.jpg
 

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