The BIG Fish Story

Some of my best childhood memories are of going fishing with my Dad.

There was just something about watching my Dad relax on the riverbank with a fishing rod in one hand and a beer in the other.

I was about 7 when my Dad took me fishing for the first time. He had just bought the farm out Galena, Ohio, way and Big Walnut Creek was only about ½ mile from the house. Grabbing the equipment, we walked down to the banks.

Cracking a beer, Dad handed me the cane pole and told me I needed to bait the hook?

“Bait the hook? With what?” I asked.

“Worms, of course.” Answered my father.

Worm? GROSS!!!!

My Dad gently took my hands and guided me through the process of impaling that poor creature on the fishhook.

“Does this kill the worm?” I asked.

“It’s either eat him or eat a fish. You choose.” Said my Dad.

Well, given that rock or a hard place, of course, I chose the fish.

The cane pole my Dad had brought for me was twice as tall as I was. Quickly, he showed me how to flick the line out over the water but when I tried, I got the hook stuck in the butt of my jeans.

The second try to set the bobber sent my baseball cap for a swim. I had to wander out into the mud to retrieve it but there was no way that was going back on my head that day.

Finally, I got the lure out in the water. The creek was about five foot deep in that spot. I turned to sit on a log and then back to the water.

Something was wrong.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yes, son.”

“Where’s my bobber?”

Turning back my Dad looked and then his eyes opened in surprise. That is when the cane pole twitched in my hands.

“I think you got a fish!” he said.

And, I did. That bobber went up and down and all around.

“Pull it, son.”, he said.

Slowly, I pulled my prize ashore, and it was the biggest fish I had ever seen! (Well, considering the only fish I had seen alive at that point were goldfish – it was!)

My Dad went to look at it and I saw it lying in the palm of his hand. And his hand made it seem tiny.

“Son, this is a bluegill.”

“Do you think we can have it stuffed on the wall?” I asked.

“Um, no, um, we need to throw it back.”

“Why?” I pouted.

“Because it is too small.”

“But it’s my fish….” I even remember the giant frown on my face.

“Sorry, son, but we gotta put it back.” With that, he unhooked the little fish and tossed it back in the creek.

Seeing my disappointment, my Dad suggested we move to a different spot.

“Where the fish might be bigger.”, he said.

We moved about 100 yards down the creek bed and tossed in out lines. Dad had a pretty good afternoon catching several bass but tossing back the catfish (“They taste nasty.”)

My own afternoon passed slowly with only a few nibbles but then —

The bobber sank and the cane pole bent in two!!!

“Dad, I got one!” I cried.

I struggled and struggled to bring in the critter. The more I tried to pull it in the stronger it got!

“Pull, son!” he said as he stepped up to help.

After what seemed an hour, a giant fish appeared, and it was mine!

“Dad, look at how huge that is!”

“It’s big all right.”, he sounded less than enthusiastic. I heard him tell my uncle who was with us what I had caught but I didn’t hear him very well.

“I Caught A SharK!” I said as I began to dance around.

“Son, that’s not what I said.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a carp.”, he said.

“But it’s HUGE.” I said. “It must be related to a shark. Right?”

“Not quite…”

“But it’s huge. It must be good eating!”

My Dad and my uncle exchanged glances.

“Um, well…”

“Can we have it tonight?”

“Ummm…”

My Dad looked at my uncle in bewilderment. Then, clearly, an idea came to him.

“Hey, son, how about you haul the gear back to the car for me while we take care of the fish?”

“Are we gonna eat it?”

“Tell you what. If you hurry, we will go to McDonald’s”

This is well before there was a McDonald’s on every street corner. The nearest one was about ten miles away.

“MCDONALD’S? YEAHHHHHH!” and streaked to the car.

Oh, we had Filet-o-fish sandwiches from McD’s that night!

Somehow The World Kept Spinning

My Dad was amazing!

(Those of you who read my book know this story but I feel it needs retelling now.)

1988

It was a hard drive home.

I had just found out my best friend had died of AIDS while I was living in West Virginia.

The next morning, I drove the three hours back to Ohio in a daze. The service didn’t start until the afternoon and I had no idea what to do with myself.

Feeling lost, I went to the only place I knew I could.

Home.

Yeah, home.

Dad knew immediately that something was wrong. I was gray and rumpled and was clearly in distress.

Rosemary gave me some tea, but I couldn’t keep up the normal chitchat.

Finally, my Dad said, “Son, what’s wrong?”

“Dad, I don’t know what to say.”

“You can tell us anything.”

“I know but I just don’t know how to say this.”

My father spoke with a note of fear. “We love you, Son, and you can tell us anything.”

Oh, God! They think I have it!

That’s when I completely lost it. Fear, love and hurt erupted in one huge burst. Blubbering, I told the story. The pain and the hurt. The fear and the utter feeling of loss.

“It’s not me. My friend, Larry, died – “

I couldn’t continue. The pain was just too much.

“It’s not goddamn fair! Why? Why!?!?”

I couldn’t stop crying. No, I didn’t want to stop crying. Ever.

“Dad, I am a nobody, but he was someone special. So talented. So—“ The pain welled up.

That is when my Dad did the most wonderful thing he has ever done and one I will remember always.

He put his arm around me.

He put his arm around his 25-year-old son and just let me cry. And cry I did. Down to the bottom of my heart.

Huge, wracking sobs.

And Dad held me like a child trying to make the hurt go away. And, somehow, the world kept turning.

Somehow…

I love my Dad.

(Now that Dad is gone, I hope I can be such a person to others who need it.)

A Smile The Size Of The Moon

I asked everybody to tell me the first thing they thought of when they thought of Dad.

I expected it to be the birdhouses he made – after all, he gave one to virtually everyone he met.

But that didn’t even make the short list.

And, then I expected them to mention how much he loved Johnny Cash music.

That one actually came in third.

Second on the list was how much he loved my stepmother, Rosemary. I would have thought that was a no brainer. Everyone on the planet knew how lucky he got there.

No, actually what almost everybody mentioned was my Dad’s smile. You see, my Dad could put the Cheshire Cat to shame with that smile of his.

It was huge and you always wondered how his face was big enough to handle it. It was simply enormous.

AND, it was genuine!

My father couldn’t have faked it if he tried. And, my Dad was many things but never fake. His smile always lit up a room.

I think I must have still been in the crib the first time I can remember Dad’s special brand of sunshine smiling down on me.

His smile could be kind.

His smile could be uplifting

And, his smile could be mischievous.

It could even be somewhat hypnotic.

It might sound odd but a leaking roof reminded me of Dad’s smile the other day.

Our roof needs replaced next summer and I have been trying to plan and budget to do so. While the budgetting needs work, the actual repair job is what is giving me fits.

You see, I am terrified of heights.

Not just scared of heights. I am “peeing your pants when more than two feet off the ground” scared of heights. I had to wear a cap with blinders to paint the ceiling last Fall.

My father would be soooo disappointed in me. You see, my Dad loved to be on ladders.

Even better if he was on the roof!

One of my earliest memories is when Dad had to replace the roof of our old farmhouse soon after we moved in. The neighbors stopped over and Uncle Bob came out to help. My brother had somehow disappeared again and I was the one drafted to run errands.

My Dad was quite clearly in his element. His smile never stopped or faded as he zipped up and down the ladders like a monkey.

Every so often, Dad would peer over the edge of the roof and ask me to put something in the bucket so they could pull it up with a rope. Nails, shingles, hammers, you name it.

Everything was going along fine when I heard the neighbor go “Shit!” and the rope slid off the roof and landed on the ground with a thump.

There was silence for a minute and then my Dad’s smile appeared over the roofline.

“Um, Micheal, could you please toss that back up to us?”

“Sure, Dad.”

I tried. I swear I tried but the eight year old me was many things but an athlete I was not. Four times I tried to get that rope back up there but the best that I could do was smacking the bottom of the second floor window. The final time it even swung back and hit me in the face and knocked me on the ground.

“It’s not working, Dad. Can someone come down here and get this?”

My Dad’s smile faded a bit.

“Micheal, we are trying to hold this frame in place and we really need that box of nails.” he shrugged. “I guess you are just gonna have to bring them up to us.”

“What?”

“Grab the rope and tie it around your waist and come up the ladder.”

He wanted ME to CLIMB A LADDER?!?

“It will be fine, son. Just come on up.”

And the SMILE reappeared!

I got up off the ground and tied the rope to me.

“HELL WITH IT!!!” I thought. If my Dad could smile while asking me to do that then there was nothing to worry about.

So, I stepped on the first rung. Not bad.

Step two, that was okay…

Step three, I made the mistake of looking down.

Acrophobia is the fear of heights and it can cause:

Dizziness – Check!
Anxiety – Check!
Panic – Check! Check! And, Check!

I grabbed tight to that ladder and closed my eyes.

“Micheal? What’s wrong?” asked my Dad.

“Dad, I can’t move…”

“Micheal, look at me…”

“I can’t Dad…”

“Micheal look at me.” came my Dad’s calm voice.

I turned my head up and opened my eyes and there was my Dad’s smile.

“Now, son, I want you to keep looking at me while you are climbing. Do not look down,”

“But, Dad -“

“Micheal, you know I would not ask you to do something dangerous, right?”

“Yes, Dad…”

“Okay, just keep looking at me while you climb.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slowly but surely, I c;limbed the ladder, Step by step, I climbed up. Dad’s smile never flickered.

It look forever! But, finally, I passed the eaves.

Dad grabbed me and pulled me off the ladder and away from the edge. It’s a good thing he did because that is when I turned and looked out. It was only about 20 feet but I felt like I was on Mount Everest’s peak.

And, it was beautiful! And, my Dad just kept smiling.

Dad perched me against the side of the dormer while they finished nailing the frame in place smiling the entire time. Oh, and he kept humming Johnny Cash songs.

I got my first real taste of beer that night.

And Dad smiled well into the night.

The Ghost of Music Past

Since Dad passed a couple of weeks ago, I have been avoiding music. His life was so full of it that I couldn’t listen to anything without thinking of him.

Driving, I would hit the radio and, of course, “Let It Be” would start:

“When I find myself in times of trouble,

Mother Mary comes to me…”

That did it. I lost it right then and there. Good thing there was a place to pull over.

Going to the grocery was the same.

I would walk up to the checkout and, of course, “Help Me Make It Through the Night” came on:

“Let the Devil take tomorrow.

Lord, tonight I need a friend…”

God, Dad loved Kris Kristofferson.

Holding my breath, I grabbed my receipt and bolted to the car and just sat there.

SIRIUS XM really must hate me.

I sat down to do some paperwork at the office after everyone left and put it on random…

OF COURSE, the first song up was “The Living Years”

“I know that I’m a prisoner
To all my Father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years.”

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! I desperately hit random.

“The Gambler” started. As this was the last song I ever sang my father, I hit random even before the first word was spoken. Kenny Rogers faded to…

GODDAMN!

“When you coming home, son?

I don’t know when.

But, we’ll get together then, Dad

You know we’ll have a good time, then.”

CAT’S IN THE FUCKING CRADLE???

I lost it.

Good thing I was the only one in the office.

I put myself back together and went home but it was time to walk the dogs. I grabbed the husky and the leash and went for a walk in the park.

Grabbing my phone, I popped on my earbuds and started up YouTube and put it on random.

Things went pretty well for a while. Boston led to Foreigner led to Queen and even Men Without Hats.

As the “The Safety Dance” faded away, that is when it happened.

“I hear the train a comin’

A coming round the bend…”

“Folsom Prison Blues”?

Dammit, I hit fast forward.

Barry Manilow started up and I started to relax when it suddenly skipped to –

“If I were a carpenter

And you were a lady.”

Johnny Cash again?!?

I looked at the phone and hit forward again.

The BeeGees came on and started to disco when IT DID IT AGAIN!

I watched the screen on the phone as it skipped down 20 songs to

“I fell in to a burning ring of fire

I went down, down, down but the flames went higher.”

Sitting down I watched as the screen just kept shifting and shifting

“A Boy Named Sue” switched to “Hurt” switched to “Sunday Morning Coming Down”

Finally, “I Walk The Line”

I had sat down on a bench and the tears had come. I cried until I had no more left and felt something brush me. The husky started to lick my face.

I looked down at my phone and realized the entire play list had switched to Johnny Cash songs.

That is when it hit me.

I hadn’t lost my Dad.

He was sitting right there with me and showing me that he would always be there!

That is when I started to heal.

I love you, Dad.

The Last Song

It was my little sister’s idea, and it was nothing short of brilliant.

As a matter of fact, it gave me an opportunity that I will never have again.

Dad had been placed in the Covid-19 ward and we were not allowed to visit him.

“I called there last night and the nurse put the phone up by his ear so we could talk to him.” she said.

Like I said, brilliant!

I tried to call several times, but he was always unavailable for some reason. Dinner. Asleep, Staff meeting.

And, I kept getting the brain weasels asking me why I hadn’t talked to him. Again and again and again.

Finally, last night, as the Christmas star appeared, I was able to get through.

“Capital Rehabilitative Care, may I help you?”

“Yes, my father, Calvin Hobbs, is a patient in the COVID-19 ward. May I please speak with the ward?”

“Yes, let me get you through.”

Ring…ring…ring…ring. Finally –

“Hello COVID-19 Ward, Jemiah speaking. How may I help?” came through in a Jamaican accent.

“Can I please speak with my Dad, Calvin Hobbs?

“Certainly, you can speak with Mr. Calvin, but you know he cannot speak right?”

“Yes, I know he is intubated.”

“Okay. Give me a moment.”

The line went silent and I waited. Finally, the line came alive with low hissing sounds and the beeping of monitors.

“Mr. Mike, I am putting the phone on speaker and laying it by his ear so he can hear.”

“Thank you…

Dad, I was calling to check in on you. “

Hiss…beep.

“Everything here is going well. We are getting ready for Christmas. The trees are up, and the dogs are running around it.

Hiss…beep.

“Oh, and the cats keeps trying to climb the trees. They think the ornaments are toys.”

Hiss…beep.

“Work is going well, and everyone sends their best.”

Hiss…beep.

“I have been working on that book I told you about. You remember the one that they want to adapt to the stage? It is going well.”

Hiss…beep.

“I am making Grandma’s green jello for Christmas. I will save you some.”

Hiss…beep.

Sigh…

Well, there is always music. My Dad always loves to sing, and I know his favorite song.

“You gotta know when to hold ‘em

Know when to fold ‘em

Know when to walk away

Know when to run.”

The hissing of the machine sounded louder.

“You never count your money

When you’re sitting at the table.

There’ll be time enough for counting

When the dealing’s done.”

“He’s trying to hum along.” said the attendant.

It was perfect!

“I love you, Dad! Merry Christmas!” and the call ended.

The next morning, I got the news that my father had passed…

“You gotta know when to hold ‘em

Know when to fold ‘em

Know when to walk away

Know when to run.

You never count your money

When you’re sitting at the table

There’ll be time enough for counting

When the dealing’s done!”

RIP, DAD!

…And Then The Tornado Struck!

Ever needed a knight in shining armor to sweep in and rescue you?

I have.

With my Dad fading more as each day passes, it has made me think of the amazing things he has done in the past without knowing it.

Ever heard of April 3, 1974?

If you haven’t, meteorologists sure have!

Let me explain.

I was a complete dork. I spent most of my time watching quiz shows and building models.

I bought the ship models using my tiny allowance and I was so proud of the tiny ships lining my shelves. I had tugboats, and submarines, and even aircraft carriers – all of them no larger than a shoe as they were all I could afford but I loved them anyway. They were my pride and joy.

April 3, 1974 was my eleventh birthday. My mother, oddly enough for her, had suggested that I actually invite my friends over for a birthday party. And, so, I had.

Well, let’s be honest, I had taken the invitations to school and had been laughed at as I tried to pass them out.

“Hobbs, you dork! How dare you invite ME to your birthday party?” was how the class president put it.

“I am not that desperate for friends,” said my former best friend who now wanted to be popular.

“Shove that up your ass.” was the response of one of the jocks who I had coached in English.

So, we actually ended up with eight kids confirming and my Mom in a planning tizzy. To my Mom, eight kids meant an eight layer cake, five gallons of ice cream and enough whipped cream to float a goat.

In the rush of all the planning, the birthday boy got sort of forgotten.

My mother did not care what I wanted for my birthday.

“No, you are not getting any ship models for your birthday.” she said.

“But, Mom-“

“But, nothing. You need school clothes so you are getting school clothes.”

No amount of whining, and yes, I whined a lot did a bit of good.

Dad just smiled and shook his head.

Then, came the morning of April 3, 1974:

Meteorologists became aware of a cold front sweeping in from Canada about midnight. It first broached the border about 4 a.m. in Montana.

At first, nothing seemed unusual. Then, the first air pressure readings came in. The air pressure was very high. Unusually high actually.

The first scientists thought the readings were wrong so they sent up airplanes to take new readings. The pilots passing through the storm front reported intense winds and lightning as few had ever seen before.

That was before one of them crashed.

My three best friends arrived at the house about 4 p.m. with the party to start at 5. Mom fussed about and we watched “Chiller Theater”. It was one of my favorites, “Godzilla vs. Mothra” and we were just getting into it when the weather alerts started.

“THE NATIONAL SERVICE HAS DECLARED A THUNDERSTORM WATCH FOR CENTRAL AND SOUTHERN OHIO”

“Mom, there’s a storm coming!”

“Let’s get the table inside.” she ordered.

Just as we got the cake inside and the movie restarted, the skies clouded over.

Godzilla rose over Tokyo harbor and -“

“THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS DECLARED A THUNDERSTORM WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING COUNTIES–“

About that time the sky opened! Rain came down in sheets and we could barely see the street. The gutters overflowed.

5 p.m. came and went and no one else showed up.

“Must be the rain,” said Mom in such a way that you knew she absolutely did not believe it.

I was crushed.

Dork?

Check!

Nerd?

Check!

Social pariah?

Check, check and double check!!!

Godzilla rose again and began to torch Tokyo.

Mom was on the phone with someone.

“Yeah, no one showed up. Yeah, he is upset but he will be fine. Get home soon.”

Mothra swooped in and –

“THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A TORNADO WATCH FOR DELAWARE, FRANKLIN, MARION -“

“Micheal, it has to be your birthday if all this shit is happening.” said Mom as she tipped back another vodka.

The winds began to howl and we could hear the shutters start to bang in the wind.

Godzilla tackled Mothra and they took off for the sky and crashed into a building –

“THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED-“

“Kids! Basement! Now!” shouted Mom.

“A tornado warning for Delaware, Franklin, Marion -” the TV died as the power went out and we scampered down the stairs to the basement.

What we did not know is that the most pwerful storm front ever recorded was sweeping across the Midwest. Town after town was struck. Some were completely obliterated.

Calling the old root cellar a basement was being generous. It was only about seven feet deep and smelled like earth and mold.

Mom turned on the transistor radio. Tornado warning after tornado warning flipped by and the earth shook as lightning struck.

A flash lit up the sky and came through the tiny windows. We gathered there and watched as lightning licked at the barn and the trees in the orchard.

The radio droned on: “Reports are coming in now that the town of Xenia has been completely destroyed…”

“Definitely YOUR birthday…” said my mother.

The wind raged higher and higher. Rain started to seep in around the windows. The dogs started to howl.

The radio broke in “A tornado has just struck Sunbury and Galena and-“

“That’s less than five miles away!” growled my mother looking out the grate.

Howling, the winds grew in pitch and we could almost feel the house rising off its foundations.

I started to cry. This was all my fault for wanting a birthday party.

AND THEN THE OUTSIDE CELLAR DOOR SLAMMED OPEN!

We crouched as the wind and rain reached a crescendo!

Suddenly. a giant came down the stairs and swung the door shut behind him.

“Micheal?”

IT WAS DAD!

“That was quite some storm!” he said. “I could barely drive in it.”

As my father smiled, the room seemed to light up.

“Happy Birthday!” he said as he opened a sack and handed me a huge box.

“Calvin, that has to cost-” started my mother.

“Hush! Open it, boy.” my father nudged me.

The box was simply enormous. “C.S.S. Alabama” was written on the side. In smaller letters, it read “The largest scale model ever produced.”

I opened the box and realized that the model itself was at least six feet long and four feet high once assembled. Huge is simply inadequate. It even came with a small steam engine to propel it through the water once assembled.

IT WAS AMAZING!

And the sun broke through the clouds like a sword. The rains stopped. The world returned to normal.

I later found out my Dad drove through three police roadblocks, flooded roads and hurricane force winds to get home. He had also convinced the shop owner to briefly reopen his shop in the eye of the storm so he could get the gift.

BUT… That’s my Dad!!!

A Life In Lyrics

Music has always been a big part of my life for as far back as I can remember.

After all of the time I spent driving with Dad in his old pickup listening to songs on the radio and all of time I spent watching Mom cavort around the living room to Elvis blaring as loud as possible on that old stereo, it would probably be a miracle if I didn’t like music.

So, I decided to try an experiment: I am going to tell the story of my life in song lyrics.

The only rules are:

The song cannot be too obscure.
The songs do not have to be in chronological order.
The lyrics tell the story but may be taken out of context.

So, let’s start:

Introduction:

“My name is Micheal.

I got a nickel.

I got a nickel

Shiny and new…”

Clint Holmes – Playground In My Mind (1972)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BolPQL83hFA

My earliest memory of Dad:

“Movin’ right along
Footloose and fancy-free
Getting there is half the fun, come share it with me
Movin’ right along
We’ll learn to share the load
We don’t need a map to keep this show on the road”

Movin’ Right Along (From “The Muppet Movie”/Soundtrack Version)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6NQcO9KTBY)

My earliest memory of Mom:

“Every breath you take and every move you make
Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you
Every single day and every word you say
Every game you play, every night you stay, I’ll be watching you.”

The Police – Every Breath You Take

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMOGaugKpzs

Earliest School Memory:

“When I think of home
I think of a place where there’s love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing”

Stephanie Mills – Home (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjMGYw7XyTU)

Earliest Memory of my older brother:

“Leave me alone, won’t you leave me alone
Please leave me alone, now leave me alone
Oh leave me alone, please leave me alone, yes leave me
Leave me alone, won’t you leave me alone
Please leave me alone, now leave me alone
God leave me alone, just leave me alone, oh leave me”

Leave Me Alone (Ruby Red Dress)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULKEBJRC0gs)

When we moved to the country at age seven:

“Yes I’m stuck in the middle with you,
And I’m wondering what it is I should do,
It’s so hard to keep this smile from my face,
Losing control, yeah, I’m all over the place,
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you”

Stuck in the Middle with you – Stealers Wheel

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMAIsqvTh7g)

Realizing my new teacher hated me:

“Mrs. Brown you’ve got a lovely daughter
Girls as sharp as her are somethin’ rare
But it’s sad, she doesn’t love me now
She’s made it clear enough it ain’t no good to pine.”

Hermans Hermits – Mrs. Brown you’ve got a lovely daughter 1965

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mA1uknS9JgM)

Realizing my mother had mental issues:

“Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly”

Gnarls Barkley – Crazy (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-N4jf6rtyuw)

Spending time with Dad:

“Well the midnight headlights blind you on a rainy night
Steep grade up ahead, slow me down, makin’ no time,
But I got to keep rollin’
Those windshield wipers slappin’ out a tempo,
Keepin’ perfect rhythm with the song on the radio,
But I got to keep rollin’”

Eddie Rabbit “Driving My Life Away”

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tvEvBUG8mY)

Loving Grandma:

“When I was a little bitty boy just up off the floor
We used to go down to grandma’s house every month end or so
We’d have chicken pie, country ham
Homemade butter on the bread
But the best darn thing about grandma’s house
Was the great big feather bed.”

John Denver – Grandma’s Feather Bed

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRTxRjOg5m0)

Realizing Mom was a slut:

“She’s just a devil woman
With evil on her mind
Beware the devil woman
She’s gonna get you
She’s just a devil woman
With evil on her mind
Beware the devil woman
She’s gonna get you from behind”

Cliff Richard – Devil Woman (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgomTOOgl8M)

Realizing I was a nerd:

“Ever since I was a young boy
I’ve played the silver ball
From Soho down to Brighton
I must have played ’em all
But I ain’t seen nothing like him
In any amusement hall”

Elton John – 10) Pinball wizard

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=joxyFDmh_LY)

Mom’s legal aberrations:

“My house! Is out of the ordinary
That’s right! Don’t wanna hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house”

Talking Heads – Burning Down the House (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3eC35LoF4U)

My parents announce their divorce:

“Daddy, don’t you walk so fast
Daddy, don’t you walk so fast
Daddy, slow down some ’cause you’re makin’ me run
Daddy, don’t you walk so fast.”

Daddy Don’t You Walk So Fast, Tony Christie

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kh8hviz6iaU)

Finding the science museum (COSI) that I worked at during high school:

“We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen under
Whatever we deny or embrace for worse or for better
We belong, we belong, we belong together”

Pat Benatar – We Belong (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxZInIyOBXk)

Realizing I was Gay:

“I am what I am.

And what I am needs no excuses.

I deal my own deck.

Sometimes the ace.

Sometimes the deuces”

I Am What I Am – George Hearn – La Cage Aux Folles

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rIZ_833XP_I)

Dad gets remarried (for the second and final time):

“Love is an open door!
Love is an open door!
Love is an open door!”

Frozen Sing-Along Edition – Love is an Open Door

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQDw88hEr2c)

Mom gets remarried (second for six):

“Woo hoo, witchy woman
See how high she flies
Woo hoo, witchy woman
She got the moon in her eye”

Witchy Woman Eagles 1976

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nc0988XxoXI)

I leave home to study archaeology at Beloit:

“King Tut (King Tut)
Now when he was a young man,
He never thought he’d see
People stand in line to see the boy king.
(King Tut) How’d you get so funky?
(Funky Tut) Did you do the monkey?
Born in Arizona,
Moved to Babylonia (King Tut).”

King Tut – SNL

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYbavuReVF4)

Mom’s second husband dies “mysteriously” one month after I leave for college:

“He had it comin’
He had it comin’
He only had himself to blame
If you’d have been there
If you’d have seen it

I betcha you would have done the same”

Chicago – Cell Block Tango

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0c2bKZMxEQg)

The FBI calls college looking for Mom and her third husband:

“Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there”

Soul Asylum – Runaway Train (Official Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRtvqT_wMeY)

I graduate college:

“Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the World”

Cat Stevens – Morning Has Broken

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZAsfB1Np-8)

I fall in love for the first time:

“I love rock n’ roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock n’ roll
So come an’ take your time an’ dance with me”

Joan Jett – I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iC8oP4Z_xPw)

I meet my best friend Larry Sherwood:

“Thank you for being a friend
Traveled down a road and back again
Your heart is true, you’re a pal and a confidant

I’m not ashamed to say
I hope it always will stay this way
My hat is off, won’t you stand up and take a bow?”

Andrew Gold – Thank You For Being A Friend (Official Music Video)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voNEgCKzves)

I lose my job and get dumped by my first boyfriend on the same day:

“I see you driving ’round town
With the girl I love and I’m like,
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo
I guess the change in my pocket
Wasn’t enough I’m like,
Fuck you!
And fuck her too!
Said, if I was richer, I’d still be with ya
Ha, now ain’t that some shit? (ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a
Fuck you!”

Cee Lo Green – FUCK YOU

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pc0mxOXbWIU)

And I became a Bob Evans Farms Restaurant manager:

Food, glorious food!
Hot sausage and mustard!
While we’re in the mood —
Cold jelly and custard!

Oliver! – Food, Glorious Food

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hEQDllvuy1I

And I was off to West Virginia for the next chapter of my life!:

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin’ like a breeze

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads

John Denver – Take Me Home, Country Roads (Audio)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vrEljMfXYo

Here Endeth Chapter One!

A Day of Reckoning

I am having a flashback.

I never thought I would smell tear gas again.

As some of you know, last night there were riots in many cities following the death of a man in Minneapolis in police custody. Stupidly, I thought our city was immune.

I was wrong.

As we live about a mile from the city center, last night was filled with sirens and popping and horns honking, and… well, you get it.

Around midnight, I stepped onto the porch. The breeze was from west, i.e. from Downtown and I smelled it.

It was faint but it was there… tear gas.

I have now smelled tear gas three times in my life.

Last night…sometime in the late 80’s…and May 5, 1970.

The second time was easy.

It was a protest march against that fucking bitch, Anita Bryant. You remember her, right? Orange juice spokesman? Former Miss America? Antigay, lying misanthrope?

If you don’t remember her, don’t worry. She will be spending eternity in Hell, anyway. And, I have no sympathy for the woman.

No, the exposure that is causing flashbacks is the very first one in 1970.

I was seven and in the first grade. Like today, the country was undergoing convulsions caused by the incompetence of elected officials.

As a child, I was considered precocious and I knew that the adults were worried but did not understand it all. The nightly news tried to explain but I could not connect it to my own life.

Then, the Kent State Shootings in Ohio happened.

For those of you who do not know or remember, on May 4, 1970, four unarmed students at Kent State University in Ohio protesting against the Vietnam War were gunned down by nervous National Guardsmen.

The nation erupted! Campuses blazed!

Ohio State University is in my hometown of Columbus, Ohio, and the riots there were unrivalled nationwide. Businesses and schools were closed and the city was under siege.

Imagine a seven year old child seeing this and watching their world burn.

That was me.

While my Dad had to stay home from work in downtown Columbus, my mother was considered essential personnel as she worked at Ohio State University Hospital in the heart of the OSU campus. She was a nurse and she was REQUIRED to go to work by order of the governor of Ohio.

In other words, my mother had to report to work in the heart of the inferno.

Even better, my mother was instructed by her boss that she was not allowed to drive her own car to the hospital. It turns out that cars in the parking lot had been torched and no one was allowed to drive themselves so my father had to take her and pick her up.

My mother has heard on the news that the protesters were swarming cars on High Street and that the National Guard had been deployed to campus. She has also heard they were ignoring cars with kids.

SO, what does that have to do with me?

Mom needed picked up at the end of her shift at 11 p.m. so picture me and my Dad driving down High Street in his old Ford pickup. Smoke drifted across the street and burnt out cars lined the way.

My Dad had to check in with the National Guard at the corner of Fifth Avenue and High Street. It was actually the first time I had ever seen a loaded gun in person. The young men were very innocent looking and they looked so scared.

They made us step out while they searched the truck and then waved Dad through.

It was very frightening as we drove down High street and then turned on Tenth Avenue. Burning cars and shattered glass were everywhere. Even the White Castle was damaged by the rioters.

On High Street, the Guardsmen were holding back the rioters from the street. The rioters flowed and ebbed like a storm. Smoke and embers rode the wind and filled the air.

As we turned onto 10th Avenue, the rioters broke through and surrounded the truck. Chants and shouting as they peered in at us.

Then: “There’s a kid in there!” and they backed off.

THAT is when it happened.

As the students backed off and my father began to slowly drive away, I heard popping behind us and looked back to see what looked like aerosols cans flying through the air towards the protesters.

POP! POP! POP! and tear gas filled the air!

My Dad hit the gas just as we both got a big whiff of it. Our eyes began to tear and we started to cry.

The rest of the route was lined by National Guardsmen but the protesters backed off as they started to cry and puke.

The Guardsmen were crying as well, but I don’t think the tear gas had anything to do with it.

The Last Word

When I first hear that someone has passed away unexpectedly, there are many things that run through my mind. How did it happen? How is their family taking it? What was their legacy?

One other thing always runs through my mind:

What were the last words that I spoke with them?

Were they words of anger?

Were they words of love?

Were the words we spoke stupid?

Were they profound?

As a few of you know, my family had an unexpected death recently. My stepbrother, Ken, passed away alone but peacefully and it has caused me to look back on our last meeting and ponder.

Ken and I were almost exact contemporaries. We were the same age and born in the same year. We were even roughly the same height and build. He had a bigger smile and I had more hair.

During high school, Ken was the guy I always wanted to be. He was popular and had loads of friends. He was always the life of their party.

Oh, and he loved the Beatles.

Over the 41 years that our parents have been married, we saw each other frequently or infrequently as our lives progressed. But, hey, that’s how families are, right?

41 years of ups and downs and just plain life.

The last time I saw Ken was last Thanksgiving. My family had chosen to meet at the memory care facility where my Dad is staying and to share a stress free holiday meal.

All of us sat around the table and talking and telling stories. Heck, we even all got to sing “The Gambler” when my Dad got started so we all sang along.

I remember Ken smiling as the whole table sang “You gotta know when to hold ‘em. Know when to fold ‘em…”.

We had a good time and the laughs were plenty.

Ken and I were the last ones out of the compound as my stepsister helped my stepmother to the car and then home.

We were walking across the parking lot when it happened.

Ken turned to me and said “Hey, Micheal?”

“Yeah, Ken?”

“Love ya, Bros.”

I was taken a bit aback, but…

“Love you, too.”

And we parted.

On the way home, it struck me. In the 41 years our parents have been married, that was the first time we had ever said that.

Those were also the last words we ever spoke to each other … and they were perfect.

“Love you, Bros.”

“Love you, too.”

Tales From An Old Ford

Some memories never fade.

They just crystallize and sparkle in our memories.

I love music.

And I grew up on a farm.

Put those together and what do you get?

Yup.

My favorite memories of all time consist of me and my Dad driving around in that old Ford pickup of his at 80 miles an hour down a country road and singing at the top of our voices.

Imagine a ten year old kid hanging out the window singing at the top of his voice while a smiling giant drives away like a shot!

I fell in to a burning Ring of Fire

I went down, down, down.

But the flames went higher…”

Then…
“Welcome to the Hotel California..

Such a lovely place

Such a lovely face…”

And…
“Sweet Home, Alabama

I’m comin’ home to you.”

Even –
“We all live in a Yellow Submarine!

A Yellow Submarine!

A Yellow Submarine!”

“Sing it out, Micheal John!”, my Dad would shout.

Elvis led to Johnny Cash to Merle Haggard to Warren Zevon. Even Elton John!

It always brings a smile to my face thinking about those Autumn nights driving like a bat out of hell and singing as loud as we could – with my Dad, this HUGE smile on his face and his eyes a twinkling!

I imagined us leaving some sparkling trail like a comet streaking through space…….

But time passes…

(Sigh)

As some of you may know, we have had to recently place my father in a memory facility. It was one of the most difficult and guilt-ridden decisions of my life.

Over the last few years, his recollection has faded. His gait started to waiver and the 6’4” near giant had become an old man who depended on a walker.

Those sparkling eyes had started to fade and the light became intermittent. He spent most of his time in a chair watching golf tournaments.

One of the things the care center suggests is that you talk to your loved one about good memories and show them pictures. So, I brought my laptop and flipped through pictures of Dad and my stepmother at college graduation, holidays, cookouts – you name it.

And every so often, I would see a little sparkle but then it would fade quickly. Again and again I saw it but it ran off.

“Is golf on?” he would ask just before he called me by my brother’s name.

Last weekend, I took him out shoe shopping. His first job after the Army was in an old shoe factory in Columbus, Ohio. He told me stories about the factory while we shopped but then he stopped and faded.

Dad had asked me to stop in a Tim Horton’s and grab a dozen donuts but we got stuck in the drive-through.

So, I started telling stories. And the spark came up again.

“Hey, Dad, remember when Mom planted pot out behind the barn?” That got the spark and a shrug.

“What was the name of the old dog we used to have? You remember that old furry mutt?” He looked at me and looked away.

I was getting down so I started to hum.

My father’s face turned to me.

Why, not?
“I fell into a burning ring of fire…” He smiled a bit.
“I went down, down, down but the flames went higher.” He started to sing but turned away.

Try another-
“You gotta know when to hold ‘em

Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run…”

“I’m stuck in Folsom Prison

As time keeps dragging on…”

I saw his fingers start to tap then he turned away.

Then, a light came on in my head.

“Awooooooooooooo!

Werewolves of London!

Awooooooooooooo!”

Yeah!

He turned back and the light was there and his smile grew!

“Micheal John – “And his hair was perfect!”

The transformation was amazing! A door opened!

And he sang!

“Awoooooooooooooooooooooo!

Werewolves of London!”

Now, imagine that each and every one one of you is sitting in the cab of a beat up old Ford pickup truck.

Darkness has fallen and the windows are open. The wind is blowing a thousand miles an hour…

The music is blaring and you are SOARING through the night leaving a blazing trail behind you!

Now, look to your left…

Do you know who that smiling giant driving and singing is?

“Awoooooooooooooooooooooo!

Werewolves of London!”

THAT’S MY DAD!!!!!

“Awoooooooooooooooooooo! “

YEAH!