My 1st conscious memory of my father

Well this is the 1^st memory that I have of my dad. I asked him about it before he passed in the 70’s and he let me know that it was the truth I was surprised that I remembered it.  I was about 4 years old, sitting on the porch. My dad came out with one of those twin Popsicles he gave me half and went inside the house with the other half. My excited four year old self ran down the porch and tripped dropping the Popsicle in the sand.  I wasn’t worried there was a faucet right there and I could wash it off.  Unlearned in the sciences I was shocked to see my beautiful Popsicle disintegrate under the stream of water. I sat there looking at the empty Popsicle stick and began to cry. Sobs at first, but it grew to a full-fledged wail of pain and disappointment.  My dad came out and asked “what’s the matta son” and I just pointed to the Popsicle stick and just bawled even more.  I looked up and my dad had this look on his face. I was surprised because he was smiling. He wasn’t laughing, but he had this look that said to me. “Son as long as I’m here I will take care of you and not to worry” he didn’t speak a word but it was a look of total understanding and the thought I felt was I got this covered. He then went into the house and came out with the other half of the Popsicle. To ensure that this did not repeat he let me sit on his lap and let me finish the Popsicle. He gave me that understanding look.   The amazing thing about this memory is I remembered it when Dad dropped me off at the dorms when I was 17 at Cal State University Fullerton. He worked 2 jobs to pay for my dormitory and meal fees. I saw this man cry for the third time in my life.  The first time was for our dog Coley  he was getting old and was unable to walk well but always was near us when we played in the back yard. It hurt dad to have to put him down. The second time was after his second heart attack. I was about 6 or 7 years old. He was off for almost a month. He didn’t hear me but I sat outside the door listening.  He was praying.  He was asking God for 10 more years to see us grow up into good men, he was asking more time. The third time was walking to his car from the dorms and I heard him thank God for granting his request. I was looking out the window and heard him sobbing “Thank you Jesus my son is in College”.   I got married the next year he was smiling from ear to ear when I went down to the altar.   My father died later that year. He had a massive stroke and died in the hospital I awoke from dead sleep and said DAD!!! My wife asked what was wrong and I said Dad just died I know it. While making preparations for the funeral I got to see the death certificate October 26 1975 at 1:05 AM. The exact moment that I was awakened from sleep.  I know my father worked hard entering the United States Army in 1942. Was a Heavy Machine Gunner of 600th Field Artillery Battalion of the 92^nd division of the US 3^rd Army. I never saw him without something to do. He was busy doing something all the time. I believe the thought of him stuck in a bed without the ability to communicate or move was too much and he just went home.  I think of my father often (daily) and if I can dig up the picture I look just like him.  I have his temper, and his foibles. He pushed me to do well in school. I learned later the importance of this when training for my second career as an IT specialist. (Because I was paying the bill for it.)   The funny thing is that I am reminded of him when I talk to my grand-kids.  I oft times open my mouth and Eugene Oliver Crawford comes out.  I just smile and know he lives on in me and my offspring. Some by birth and some by osmosis. 

Love YA DADDY 

Eugene Oliver Crawford 

Born December 7 1908

Died Oct 26 1975

How I became a 205 average bowler (It ain’t about bowling)

                            How I became a 205 average bowler (It ain’t about bowling)

    During the period of 1991-1996, I went from being a 135 average Bowler to a 205 average bowler. I was stationed in the beautiful Island Paradise that was Kadena AB Okinawa Japan this, by the way, is not about Bowling; it’s about becoming better. There I was rolling the stone and having fun, but at this point, I’m getting my behind kicked, and that was not much fun.  I was asked if I wanted to join an intramural Bowling team for the Squadron.  I later found I was asked for 3 reasons listed in reverse order. I was a cool guy and was recognized as such by my squadron mates, I was free on the dates that the league played. Finally, I was asked because I was maintaining a whopping 135 average. (I was the ringer there for my handicap) The math is pretty simple 4 players 3 with averages of between 170 and 205 the team needed the points the 4th (yours truly) would add a lot of handicap points to aid the team with the victory.

    Team members in a meeting discussed that my starting handicap would be 65 = 135-200, which would be added at the end of the game to the total score. This meant that I bowled out of my mind and rolled a 175, then my score for that game would be 240. (A ringer indeed). Don't get me wrong I had no plans to stay at 135 no sir I ain't cut like that. 

   

    I then bowled several times a week outside of the weekly tournaments, 1st lesson follows which is "find someone better than you then do what they do” I found all the bowlers that were light years ahead of me and stuck to them like glue. One of them that knew me from work told me C-Daddy you are going to have to keep up or you will be getting your butt kicked regularly. Get better or get dusted no mercy will be given.  As a side note, I am very competitive. This did not scare me in the least. I took my whupping like a man, but I listened as well. I learned hand positions, how to throw a hook, backup ball, and picking up spares. 

    2nd lesson follows "If it's worth doing it's worth doing badly until you learn to do it well"

I took instruction as I wanted to be statistically in their peer group (I WANTED TO BELONG).

After about 3 months my average was 150, 6 months it was 165, and a year 195. I then heald that average until the last year of my tour in
Okinawa when it went to 200 then 205.  Mathematically the more games played, the harder it is to raise ones average. I bought shoes, a couple of balls a ball that I used frequently and a ball that was for making spares. I learned foot position, lane conditions (that change throughout the game). The oil makes the way down the lane changing how the ball reacts to the surface how to throw on wood lanes and synthetic lanes. All of this required practice. How much did I play? O played 4 to 5 games a week with 3 sets per play (outside of tournament play) I would sneak a set in at lunch from time to time,

The 3rd lesson follows your technique faithfully every time adjusting for current conditions. I found that when I concentrated on my mark, the 5 board kept my head down until I actually saw the ball cross the mark before looking up I performed much better it got to the point I could tell the probability of a strike based on where the ball was when it went over the 5 Board.  Unless Mr. Murphy showed up to say his piece. I found myself favoring a hook ball. My particular hook would go 75% of the distance of the lane then make a Sharp left into the 1, 3 pocket for maximum destruction of the pins.    Learned the concept of trusting myself and not to worry about how many pins I needed at any given point in the game I say concept because it’s not easy to do on a consistent basis the ones that do are in the PBA.

    Finally, I gained the acceptance of my peers. My best game ever was a score of 278 in a tournament with 9 strikes in a row. Remember the concept of not worrying about the score well I didn't look at the score until it was late in the game and I let it get to me.  When one gets over 3 Strikes in a row, a crowd forms behind the lane it grows more significant with each strike. Imagine the mental pressure of sitting with 7 strikes knowing you have only 3 more for 300  missed the head pin in the 10th frame  the last frame was 9 1 9 for a total of 278 that was pretty close but no cigar.

Upon my return to the US, I only dabbled at bowling, but I was able to pull a 200 score on a pretty consistent basis. 

The moral of the story is that if you follow someone successful your endeavors that you choose to dedicate yourself to getting the basic concepts down to the point that they are purely muscle memory (practice, practice and practice) then finally concentrate on the goal it’s only a matter Of time before you throw a 278 or better.  You do know this a metaphor for doing well in life or whatever endeavor you choose.  Jus Sayin 

Oh i'm in the Shiznet now

I'm in the Shiznet now 

I just got a website hosted oh crizzap.  I came to IT from the hardware side of the equation, and as of this moment I am in uncharted waters.   I should have paid more attention when I was doing this in college. NO not me I'm working on being a Server guy and I have no need to learn website building. (go figure)  I am laughing at myself because like as when I was a younger man and had no need for trigonometry. then was told to tell my supervisor how much fuel in gallons would fill the tank outside the shop, and having that certain dumb look I think to myself "HERE I GO AGAIN" !!! 

No worries if i make a mistake it isn't like I lost today's launch codes....

much more to follow (as in details) 

I realized I’m an odd duck

I realized I’m an odd duck

        At breakfast this AM I realized something that I knew for a long time.  I AM an ODD DUCK!!!   My favorite musicians in 1968 were James Brown (that’s normal) but, Bert Bacharach, Sergio Mendez, and Herb Alpert not so much. I was only 13 years old, (what’s up with that.) I listened to the  Temptations, The Four Tops, and the like, but that was just to fit in. I was already an outcast because I liked no LOVED to read and lived a major part of my middle school time in the library, as I had a crush on the librarian. (I’ll write on this one later I need the writing practice)

Why was I the odd duck?  Well it was Los Angeles California in the 60s to the 80’s I lived in South Central LA, and it was swimming upstream or across stream from 90% of my cohorts. Thinking back that was the same time that I joined the L.A.P.D Jr band. It was a great experience

I played Trombone I found friends that I have to this day, unfortunately I haven’t seen in 30+ years,  To tell the truth I did not know who I was as my internal voice was telling me different things then my survival voice. I was once taken into the Boys restroom of my Jr Hi School

(as it was called in those days) and took a beating for acing a History test. (I made the brothers look bad I suppose) while I was taking my 1^st Major ass whipping I was told that I was acting white, and thought of myself better than my peers.  I was an Odd Duck indeed. 2 things happened at that

point. The 1^st was I went  from an A average to a C average that carried on throughout High School, and my 1st attempt at college (thats another good story)  The 2^nd was I made a vow to myself to leave there South Central LA never to return. That part happened in 1981 when I left to join the military

    

     I had no mentor in the more academic pursuits. I had a superb life mentor in my dad Eugene Crawford. He however, did not finish elementary school and my mom did not finish middle school. Remember those friends of over 30 years a lot of us no most of us were in band together

1^st Bishops Band, then LAPD Jr Band then The Velvet Knights Drum and Bugle corps. It just happened that way. I have a person that still is a hero of mine George who never met a challenge that he was afraid to challenge. Went from ZERO to running the Los Angeles

Marathon .He would never quit if I beat him at something he would not stop until he was at least as good as I am then left me in the dust. His brother Ronald was my best friend of the period, and we had several adventures that were at times funny and at others scary as hell.

 I met people during the period of 1979 to 1981 that I Consider family (I have 2 that I will write about later) that caused me to change my beliefs about what it is like to be Black or White in America.  In the military is was not one of the Homeboys that came to get me when my car was

broken down in  Norfolk Va in the winter of 81-82 It was a Good ole boy from Tennessee. Talk about paradigms shifting.  It seems that since that time I have drifted from being a Democrat (because my mom was) Republican after I watched Lester Maddox do his thing and learned who

 was on the other end of the “rope” then  Independent to date, as I tired of the BS.  

   

      I am still an odd duck. I have made lots of mistakes (trust me on that). Now that I am practicing for my 3^rd career (writing) I am trying to get my proverbial fecal material compacted in one place.

 I have a Grandson that’s an Odd Duck Just like me. There is a present for him in the mail

 I have not picked up yet (a Chess set). My goal is to be the “full service” mentor that my father could not, as stated before. As a Life mentor My Dad was without peer but did not have the educational background to help me in other areas. 7 year old grandson asked me “what is Magnetism” I knew something was afoot when I heard the question, I was excited to tell him what I knew about it, and show him where more information could be found. 

Where My Heads At

Where My Heads At  

I find myself in a place of disappointment today. Not at anything external but internal. There is a decision on a life change that involved some risk that I am about to initiate. I only have to send an email to my VA primary care physician to get the ball rolling.  That is not the problem, the problem is the hesitance I feel in making that call or sending that email.  Those are the facts. My disappointment is in why am I hesitant. It is the fear of the unknown the unexplored territory, and what will come after.  That’s the problem.  I am a novice Stoic. This whole process is an anathema to what I am coming to learn and believe.  I am the master of my thoughts and emotions, but my feelings (and not the facts) stand in my way.  The number one thing that I have completed in this vein was to become an IT person after being a generator mechanic in the U.S.A.F for 20 years. I believed this would give me a future that wanted for myself at the time.   I will make that decision at the competition of this writing as it accomplishes something I need to do for my day to start off with a WIN.

    I also want to be a writer, novelist. I however am stuck in the infancy of this as this is another one of those transitional periods just like when I was becoming an IT professional after retirement from the US military. I retire from Civil Service in another 5 years 1month, and 22 hours from the moment of this writing. I am in the midst of another transitional period. Once more moving from the comfortable to the unknown.   

    On the other hand there is a lot good news.   I am writing this was the goal the fact that I started writing again is something that makes me happy and encourages me to do more.  Additionally, my finances are coming into more order than chaos as of late.  That goal will be met by this time next year. I am happier than I have been in a long time. Because, the accomplishment of the above, (despite my disappointment) and the realization that I have great friends both old and new. Some that have not seen me since I left So Cal in the 80’s, and of course my family.  I have 4 Daughters all accomplished strong women 2 from the natural course of events and 2 through the family blending process. 10 grandkids.  Now I mention this because one of my daughters lit the fuse on this transition 6 years ago.  In a Daughter Father discussion she told me the truth about myself. That was the catalyst of this transition. Another daughter (of the same name) introduced me to the other reactive agents in my life her sons.  I am not going on a dissertation on the need for young men to have strong male leadership especially in this age, but I think you get the point.  I see a need and am trying to be an example. This is another reason for the change.

I have to control what I can control which is little. Today I wrote after a long drought.  By close of business tomorrow I will have contacted my Doctor conserving another change which at this point is at the conceptual level.